Naked Frame (5 page)

Gabby motioned for Rebecca to come too.

They followed Cotton Candy down several
hallways to an empty office in the back.

"Please have a seat. Someone will be with
you in a moment."

"The owner," Gabby insisted.

But Cotton Candy had already closed the
door.

Rebecca glared at him. "You're crazy. Just
plain crazy."

Gabby held a finger up to his lips,
indicating that they should not be talking.

Rebecca looked around for cameras, but
didn't see any.

The room became dead silent. They stared at
each other, not knowing what to expect.

The door flung open and two large men strode
in.

"I'm Joey Ketrousie." The accent was
obvious. New Jersey. "What's the problem here?"

Gabby said, "Are you the owner?"

"That's right. And I understand you had a
complaint about the food."

"The hamburger tasted like leather."

"Didn't my waitress offer to get you another
one?"

"Yes. But I've lost my appetite."

"I see. Well, look, here's what I can do for
you. The meal's on me, okay and—"

"—what meal? I couldn't eat it."

Joey's face turned red with anger, and
Rebecca thought he might rip Gabby's head off with his large,
paw-like hands. But he quickly regained control. "Whatever. My
associate here, Mr. Ballentini, is going to give you a nice, clean,
crisp one-hundred dollar bill. Would that make you happy, Sir?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Good." He motioned for Bobby to give Gabby
the money.

"Now," said Joey, "you
will
never ever
come back here again. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Sir. No problem," said Gabby.

"Good," said Joey.

"You did say you were the owner?" said
Gabby.

"That's right."

"I thought William Smotherburn was the
owner."

"I'm buying the place."

"When?"

"Hey, what's with all the questions? We're
done." He motioned to Bobby. "Get them the hell out of here,
Bobby."

Bobby led them to the door and opened it.
They saw another one of Joey's goons waiting in the hallway. "My
associate will assist you to the exit."

Gabby and Rebecca walked out of the room,
into the hallway. Bobby closed the door.

The thug said, "Follow me."

Gabby followed, but Rebecca lingered at the
door for a moment, trying to hear what Joey and Bobby were saying
inside.

The man turned around and saw that Rebecca
was not following him. "What the hell are you doing, Lady?"

"Uh, sorry. My shoe fell off." She slipped
it back on and hurried to catch up.

"Stay with me." He led them out of the
building.

Once they were outside, walking back to
Gabby's shop, Gabby said. "What were you doing in the hallway?"

"Listening."

"Hear anything?"

"Yeah. Bobby was worried about what to do if
Wiley showed up tonight."

"That's interesting."
Rebecca could see that Gabby's mind was churning. "What are you
plotting
now?
"

"A way to find out what Wiley knows. Yeah,
I'm sure it'll work. But you'd have to go sleazy. You know. A
little slutty."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

CHAPTER 6 - Monday, 11:52 p.m.

It was nearly midnight when Phillipa Thagery
drove up to the gate. She smiled at the guard. He returned a smile
and waved her through.

All the guards knew Phillipa well. The
brilliant, attractive young black woman was Senior Research
Scientist in Product Development at Smotherburn Technologies. Big
Bill had given her a free hand and almost unlimited resources to
develop a device he hoped would make him a fortune.

Phillipa parked her car, grabbed the
McDonald's bag from the front seat, and walked up to the retina
scanner at the back door of her lab. She inserted her key card and
leaned in to the scanner. The automatic door swung open, and she
entered.

She walked through the ultra-modern lab to
her office, sat down, and retrieved a bottled water from the
mini-fridge next to her desk.

As she took the Big Mac and fries out of the
bag, she told herself that someday she would eat better. It
wouldn't always be like this. Soon she would have everything she
wanted. And she'd never work nights again.

Phillipa took a bite of the Big Mac. She
heard something out in the lab...a toilet flushing.

She got up from her desk and walked out to
the lab. "Hello? Who's there?"

"It's me, Phillipa. Wiley."

William Wiley Smotherburn was Big Bill's one
and only child. And a big pain in the butt. The twenty-two year old
had recently graduated with a degree in drama. He had hoped it
would be easy to break into Hollywood. His dad could pull a few
strings, offer a few bribes.

But Big Bill had refused to
help Wiley in any way. He wanted his son in the family business,
working a
real
job. He told Wiley it was time he earned his keep, and hired
him as a lab tech.

Phillipa had told Big Bill she would quit
rather than continue to work with Wiley. He ignored her threats.
They both knew she was bluffing. She wouldn't leave. Not when all
her dreams were about to come true. "How did you get in here?"

"Henry let me in."

"That damn Henry had no business letting you
in. What's the point of a retina scanner, if the guards are going
to bypass it?"

"Well, since we're both here...all alone..."
He walked up close to her. "Why don't we take a load off? Relax on
the couch in your office."

"Don't make me file sexual harassment
charges against you, Wiley. Because I will, you know."

He put his hands up. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry.
Please accept my humble apologies."

Acting. Everything Wiley said or did was an
act. Nobody knew the real man. And Phillipa didn't wish to. "Why
are you here at this hour?"

"Because I came in late this morning, and I
took kind of a long lunch."

"No, you wandered in at precisely 11:22
a.m., and left at 12:15. You returned from lunch at 3:45."

"Wow, I had no idea you were keeping tabs on
me."

"Your father asked me to."

"Why? Because you've been complaining about
me?"

"That's correct."

"Well, at least you're honest. Unlike
Simpson in accounting."

"I expect you to be here from eight to five,
like everybody else. Not to come in at all hours of the night
trying to make up your time."

"What's the difference? You're here
practically 24/7."

"The hours I'm here in the lab are none of
your concern. I enjoy working alone at night."

"But wouldn't it be nice to have a partner?"
Before she could respond, he said, "Hey, what's that gadget over
there on the workbench?" He went over to check it out. "I've never
seen one of these before. Is it some top secret thing? Is that why
you don't want anyone body else up here at night?"

She smiled nervously. "You watch too much
TV. It's just a new type of TENS unit."

Wiley launched into his TV
commercial voice. "TENS, or
Transcutaneous
Electrical Nerve Stimulation, is used to treat pain with electrical
pulses. Two or more electrodes are attached to pads, which are
applied to the skin. The pads are similar to EKG pads."

"Very good. Now go home."

He picked up a little black thing, shaped
like a small watermelon seed. "What's this?"

"Put that down. It's an electrode. It
attaches to a pad. Same as all the others."

"You think I'm stupid, don't you? Just a
dumb actor. This is not like the others. Where's the wire?"

"Put it down, Wiley."

"He held it up to the light. There's
something inside. A computer chip."

"Give me that."

"It's an implant, isn't it? It goes under
your skin."

She stared at him.

"I knew it!"

"Now put it down. And go home."

"What's it going to be for?"

"You must not tell anyone about this. Do you
understand?"

"Sure, sure, I know. I won't tell
anybody."

"It will work like the others, only
better."

"To kill the pain."

"
Reduce
the pain. And do it more
effectively than anything else on the market.
Wirelessly."

"
Wirelessly
. Cool. My dad's always
complaining about the wires."

Big Bill had suffered from chronic lower
back pain since his thirties, and had been using TENS units for
years. It was the reason he had formed Smotherburn Technologies—to
develop a better TENS unit—and make a fortune.

"That's right."

"So, that is a tiny computer chip
inside."

"Yes. And the user will recharge it each day
by wearing a special charging cap that I'm developing."

"Wow. That is cool." Wiley thought for a
moment. "Could it be used for other stuff?"

She hesitated. "What do you mean?"

"You know. If you implanted a couple of
those babies down below the belt," he said, pointing to his crotch,
"could you make somebody go from frigid to red hot with the flip of
a switch?"

"Why do you have to be so crude? This device
is for pain management. Like all of our other models."

"But...
could
it be used for
pleasure?"

"Well, that's a good question."

He smiled. "See. I have something to
contribute. I make you think."

"Sure. Very good. So, do you want to be my
test subject?"

"Uh..."

"You'll need to strip down, and get up on
that table," said Phillipa.

"Naked?"

"Yes, of course. Don't be embarrassed,
Wiley. I'm a scientist. I'll cut two slits and insert the
electrodes. Then we can test your theory."

"You'd have to
cut
me?"

"Yes, of course. How else
can I insert the electrodes? They'll be
tiny
slits."

"Where?"

"Hmm. In the scrotum."

"Whoa. Wait a minute."

"But, I must warn you that I have no idea
what will happen. Maybe nothing. You might not feel a thing. Or it
could light you up like a Roman candle."

He grinned.
"
Great Balls of Fire
."

"Literally
."

"You know what? I think I'll pass."

"Goodnight, Wiley."

He headed for the door. "See you
tomorrow."

"Be on time."

"Right."

CHAPTER 7 - Tuesday, 12:03 a.m.

"Are you sure Joey won't recognize me? And
what about the waitresses? And the maître d'?"

"See for yourself." Gabby spun Rebecca
around to see herself in the full-length mirror.

"Who is that? I truly do not recognize
myself."

"So, you like?"

"Well, sure. It's amazing how much different
I look with curly hair. And it's been a long time since I've worn a
skirt this short."

"How about the makeup?"

"It's way too heavy."

"That's on purpose. The idea is that you're
desperate to get noticed."

"But I'm ten years older than Wiley. You
really think he's going to believe I'm his age?"

"Honey, looking like this,
he's not gonna care
how
old you are. Are you kidding me?"

"Thanks, Gabby. But I don't think he'll even
notice me. Not in a roomful of bare boobs. How can I compete with
that?"

"Easily. They're
exposed.
Their
stuff is in all in your face. You, on the other hand, are
leaving something to the imagination. And the imagination is
always
better than the
real thing. I ought to know. It's how I make my living."

"Yeah, I guess so." Rebecca
looked around at his beautiful designs all over the walls, thinking
he could make
any
woman look beautiful.

"Okay, we'd better get going. Wiley should
be there soon. He usually strolls in between midnight and one."

"But we still don't have a reservation. I
hope your new buddy will let us in again."

"You don't
need
reservations after
midnight. They let everybody in."

**********

When they strolled into the lobby of Café
Nue, Gabby spotted Wiley. He leaned over and whispered to Rebecca,
"He's right over there. In the corner. See him?"

Rebecca saw Wiley talking to Bobby
Ballantini. It looked like a serious conversation.

"I hate this place." Gabby spoke loud enough
for everyone in the lobby to hear him, including Wiley.

Rebecca looked surprised. And she wasn't
acting. Gabby had gone off script again.

"Let's get out of here." Gabby grabbed
Rebecca's arm.

Rebecca took the cue. "Get your hand off me
before I break it off."

Gabby threw both hands in the air. "Fine.
You can catch a cab home, Bitch."

Rebecca punched him in the face.

He grabbed his jaw and began to rub it.
"We're done, Slut! You hear me? Done!" He turned and stormed
out.

Rebecca hoped he was still acting. She had
walloped him pretty good. She turned around and straightened her
dress, attempting to regain her composure.

Wiley walked over to her. "Are you okay,
Miss?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thanks."

"Good. But you've lost your escort. Could I
buy you a drink?"

"Oh, don't feel obligated just because my
boyfriend's a jerk."

"I don't. Not at all. But you can do
better."

"Thanks." Rebecca smiled. "Oh, sure, I'd
love to have a drink with you."