Gecko (24 page)

She sat for a moment, eyes closed. She rolled her head and sighed. Then she turned toward the camera, cupped her breasts, squeezed, and sighed again. He had never seen anything like this. He wanted to take out the disc, but couldn’t. He was frozen, mesmerized. He had forgotten about why he was here, there was only him and the seventeen inch color screen. The rest of the world didn’t exist.

She scooted off the bed, stood and faced the camera. She had a little girl pout on her lips and she batted her eyes like a whore.

“
Get on with it,” the doctor ordered, his voice coming from off camera.

“
Play some music,” she said.

Washington was shocked, but couldn’t stop watching.

“
What do you want to hear?” another male voice out of camera range said.

“
Light My Fire. Play, Light My Fire.” In a few seconds the music of The Doors played in the background and she started to sway when Jim Morrison started to sing. The combination of the cocaine and music seemed to put her into a trance.

“
I’m going to be oh so good. You’ll see,” she said. “I’m going to fuck and suck you till you’re sore and dry and then I’ll make you beg for more.” She spread her legs and ran her hands between them. “Oh it feels so good, can’t you see,” she said in a sultry voice as she masturbated through her silk skirt. Then she moved her hands up to her breasts and massaged them.

“
Soon you’ll each have one of these in your mouth. Think about it.” She continued the upward motion of her hands till the fingers found the button at her collar. She unbuttoned it. “One down, four to go.” She swayed with the rhythm and found the second button, her hands were shaking again as she slipped it out of the button hole. “Three to go,” she said, then she looked at the camera and pleaded. “Do we have to do this?”

“
Just take it off and make it look good. We don’t have all day.” Kohler’s voice from off camera again.

Her hands, shaking now, found the third button, then the fourth, then the fifth. She closed her eyes, like she was shutting out the world, and took off her blouse, dropping it at her feet. Her hands went behind her back, for the clasp, but then she dropped them to her sides and let the music rule her as she slow danced with the rhythm. She started masturbating again, moving her right hand with a frantic cadence, undulating her hips with the beat of the music.

She continued like that till the pleasure chased away the shame. She opened her eyes, winked, reached behind her back and said. “I’ll bet you boys want to see my titties.” Then she undid the clasp and the skimpy bra sprang free. She curved her shoulders forward, shucking it off, and the bra joined the blouse on the floor at her feet. She cupped her breasts in her hands, pointing them at the camera.

“
One for each of you.” She squeezed the nipples. “Oh, I hope your lips can make them feel this wonderful.” She tweaked the buds, pinching herself. She moaned and Washington wondered if she was hurting herself on purpose.

She ran her hands from her breasts down to her skirt, hooked a thumb in each side, slid it down and stepped out of it. She resumed her dance clad only in sheer white panties.

“
Come take them off me,” she said toward the camera.

“
No. Take them off yourself. Then stand and face me and make yourself come,” the doctor ordered.

Washington thought he saw her flush a little as she dropped the panties, but he couldn’t be sure if she was humiliated or excited. He gasped as she faced him on the screen, legs spread like she was riding a horse, masturbating. Her screams of pleasure filled the room. She wasn’t faking.

Without realizing what he was doing, Washington slipped open the buttons on his Levi’s and stuffed his hand in his pants, stroking himself. Soft and slow, keeping perfect rhythm with the woman on the screen. And to his amazement when she screamed, “Oh my God, I’m coming,” he came, shooting hot sticky fluid over the inside of his underwear.

“
Shit! Shit, shit!” He was immediately ashamed.

He pulled his hand out, trying his best to keep the sticky stuff away from his Levi’s. He wiped his hand on the bed cover, unbuckled his belt and carefully eased the pants off. Then he got up and went back to the bathroom, pulling his sweatshirt off on the way. He took his soiled underwear off in the shower and scrubbed them with soap. Once he was convinced all of the telltale evidence was off the shorts, he opened the shower door and tossed them into the plastic covered wastebasket. Something else to buy tomorrow, he thought. He spent another five minutes letting the heat and steam wash away the shame and guilt he felt.

When he finished with his second shower of the evening, he toweled off, then went naked out of the bathroom. He bent over to pick up his Levi’s as she moaned in ecstasy. He turned his head to the screen.

Julia Monday was on her hands and knees. The Weasel on his knees behind her, fucking her from the rear. Stupid was standing at the edge of the bed. Her mouth was wrapped around his cock. Kohler must have been working the camera. The Weasel was pumping furiously and Stupid’s face was flushed red. Stupid looked like he was going to explode as she worked on him. It looked she was enjoying herself.

Washington felt disgusted, he jabbed his right arm out, index finger extended, and turned the set off. Then he ejected the disc and got dressed. He didn’t trust himself to sleep naked tonight. He sat down on the bed and pulled on his shoes and socks. The canned beef stew hadn’t dented his appetite. His stomach was growling as he walked out the door. It was only 10:00, something should be open.

Something was, the diner across the road. He rubbed his arms against the cold night and crossed the empty street. He didn’t notice the gray Mercedes in the parking lot. The hostess smiled shyly and asked him if he wanted smoking or nonsmoking. He said he didn’t care. Something by the window.

It was smoking. He inhaled the tobacco fumes from the booth behind and wished he had a cigarette. He was about to raise his hand and call the waitress, when he heard the clipped German accent that followed the tobacco smoke. He hadn’t been paying attention. He wondered if they had seen him and if they had, if Kohler had recognized him.

He saw the waitress approaching. He wished her away, but she kept coming. He wished harder. She kept coming. He buried his face in the menu, wishing she would walk on by.

She did.

“
Here’s the damage, thirty-four fifty,” he heard her say to Kohler’s party in the next booth. She was a middle aged woman who had probably worked the night shift for twenty years. When she saw Kohler was going to stiff her on the tip, she said, “Big spender, think you can afford it?”

“
You’re wasting your time,” a high squeaky voice said. Washington placed the voice with the Weasel. “He’s heard it all before and he doesn’t care.” He laughed.

“
Please, don’t bother coming back,” she said.

“
Lady,” Kohler said, “you do your job and I’ll do mine. If you don’t like it, I can always talk to the manager.”

“
You’re looking at her, and like I said, please don’t bother coming back.” Hugh glanced up. Her jaw was set tight. Her right hand was balled into a fist, the knuckles white. She was rubbing the thumb against the index finger, hard, chasing the blood away. She looked like she wanted to belt Kohler. Washington figured that Kohler got that reaction from a lot of people.

“
Then I will go to the owner,” Kohler said.

“
You’re looking at her too. And it still goes. Don’t come back.”

“
It’s your loss.” Kohler got up. Hugh pressed his face further in the menu as the doctor stormed by, followed by Mrs. Monday, the Weasel and Stupid.

After they left the waitress turned to Washington. “You look like you didn’t want that asshole to see you.”

“
You don’t miss much.”

“
No I don’t, Hugh.” At the sound of his name he looked up into the big woman’s smile.

“
I know you,” he said.

“
You better, you bastard.” She broke out into a laughing smile, showing lots of teeth.

“
Four Eyes,” he said. Now he was laughing. “You’re Susan Spencer.”

“
I never really liked that name,” she said.

“
And I liked Metal Mouth?” he grinned back at her.

“
I guess I was pretty cruel to you boys, you little wimp.” She laughed.

“
Not so little any more,” he said. “And we deserved it, always making Johnny’s big sister and her friends miserable. We really loved tormenting you guys.”

“
And we kind of liked it. Little boys chasing after us. It was cute.” She lost her smile for a minute. “Seeing you here like this reminds me of Johnny. I haven’t thought about him in a long time. When I first heard he was killed, I blamed myself. I thought that if I’d have been a better sister, understood him more, maybe he would’ve stayed in school. It was years before I figured out it was just the times. Sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and the war. He chose war. Karma. There was nothing anyone could do.”

He saw a gecko dart across the floor and was reminded of the one he’d seen in the hospital. And the talk of a dead friend brought Walker to mind. Something wasn’t right. He hadn’t been hurt that bad. He shouldn’t have died.

“
Look, I have to go. I’ll come by before I leave town.”

“
You’re a policeman now, I hear.”

“
That’s right and if you’ll excuse me,” he said, sliding out of his seat, “right now, I’m trying to figure out a way to put that German son of a bitch away for a long time.”

“
I wish you luck.” She gave him a great bear hug. “If you need anything while you’re here, you call me.”

“
Count on it,” he said and then he left.

He hurried across the street, oblivious to the gray Mercedes still in the parking lot, but even if he’d seen it, he wouldn’t have been able to see Kohler’s hate filled eyes staring at him through the dark tinted glass.

Back in his hotel room, he called the information operator in Orange County and got the number for Hope Hospital. He asked for Patti Hamilton and was put on hold. After a long wait, which he occupied by pacing the room with the phone at his ear, she came on the line.

“
This is Patti Hamilton.” She sounded as pretty as she looked in the hospital.

“
This is Hugh Washington. Do you remember me?” He crossed his fingers.

“
Of course I remember you, Hugh Washington,” she said. “How did you know my name?”

“
Are you still wearing that name tag?”

“
Oh yeah,” she laughed. Then her voice dropped as she changed from light banter to deep concern. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“
That’s why I called. I saw another of those geckos and was reminded about the one I saw in the hospital and I got to thinking there was something funny about Ron dying like that. He seemed pretty healthy to me.”

“
They didn’t tell you?” He heard her gasp.

“
Tell me what?” His hand tightened on the phone.

“
You’re friend was murdered.”

“
Murdered?” He knew something wasn’t right. But he hadn’t suspected murder.

“
And not just murdered,” she said, her voice cracking. “He was torn apart. Ripped to pieces. I was the one who found him. It was horrible. It was like some big animal tore into him. The walls were covered in blood. It was even on the ceiling. They’re trying to keep it quiet, but I figured you would know. You were his partner.” There was a long silence between them. Then she said, “And you know what else? Just before I went into that room, just before I found him, one of those geckos came running under the door, tearing out of that room like it knew what was inside. It scared the holy bejesus out of me.”

He saw movement across the room, on the ceiling. He looked up and it stopped and sat there, mocking him. A small green gecko, on the ceiling, upside down. Still.

“
Shit,” he whispered into the phone. “I gotta go. There’s one on my ceiling, right above my head.” He hung up the phone leaving her wondering and worrying.

“
Glenna, dear Glenna,” he said, as he made his way toward the door. He felt foolish. They were harmless, but still they were out of place here. He eased the door open and stepped out into the parking lot. He unlocked the Chevy, got in and relocked the door, started it and drove off into the night, hoping that Glenna was okay and that there were no geckos wherever she was.

Chapter Fifteen

Glenna shivered in her sleep. She was cold and she had to go to the bathroom. She hated getting up at night, getting out from under the warm blankets, leaving a friendly dream. When she was a little girl and wanted the light off, she would lay in bed and wish her father into the room. He usually came, but when she had to pee, no amount of wishing in the world could make it go away. She just had to get up and take care of it herself.

She reached for the blanket. She didn’t have to go that bad. She would wait a while longer. She wanted to sink back down to that wonderful place in the sun. She was reliving a vacation in Honolulu with her parents. She loved the beach, the night life, the Hawaiian attitude, but most of all, she loved the hot climate. She shivered again and moved her hand farther down, looking for the covers, but they weren’t there.

She opened her eyes. Just for a peek. She wasn’t in bed. Not safe at home. She was cold. She had to pee. She was in the cemetery.