Pam (17 page)

It wouldn’t be the first time I was swept away.

“I can tell
you
what I feel.” She pressed
tighter
against me.

I tried not to move my hands, work into her manipulation, but her moist
lips
moved up my neck.

Let me snap out of this fantasy. Snap out.

But I didn’t. I wasn’t in a good frame of mind when I arrived
,
and she made matters worse.

It wasn’t all Sharon
;
it was me. She was being her
self
, and Sharon was exactly what clicked in me.

I
pulled
back
my hands and lifted them. “This isn’t right. You need to leave.”

“Stop it.” She smiled, reached
around
me
,
and grabbed her drink. She downed it. “You want it.”

“This situation right here
is highly unethical.”

“I’m not your patient.” She shook her head. “I’m a woman highly attracted to you. And I guess …” Her other hand moved up my leg and cupped my crotch. If I wasn’t hard before, I was at that second … instantly
.
“It’s what you want.”

I moistened my lips
as her hand moved around the outside of my pants.
She set
down
the glass
,
and then she reached for my
belt
and undid it.

“You want me. I want you. Any way …”
s
he
whispered
in my ear. “Any … way.”

Pants undone, her hand slid into my
pants
and touched me. She smiled. I had to stop it. I had to. And then I heard Rich Perkins
’
voice in my head.

“And I let it get the best of me. I justified it. If that makes sense.”

It did. The justification. Sharon wasn’t my patient.

With those thoughts, that
justification
, I removed her hand from me. Stared at her for a moment and gently shoved her back to the chair not two feet from her.

S
he bounced down, laughing out, “
Great aim.”

I
wasn’t
laughing, I was dead
serious
. It was no longer a situation of who was before me, but what. What was there along with my driven needs.

Her leg lifted as she tried to adjust in the chair
,
and I
grabbed
her leg and dropped to my knees. Reaching under her dress, I grabbed hold of
her
flimsy undergarment and ripped
it
with ease.

She groaned. It was a like a shocking
ly strong
medication to me. Lifting both her legs
to
the arm
s
of the chair, I pushed them back tight against her body exposing her completely
,
and I buried my head between her legs.

At that second, that moment, I didn’t know who it was
,
and I didn’t care.
My mouth hungrily worked her to the point
that
she pushed against me, grabbed hold of my hair, and using her legs held me to her.

I swore I couldn’t breathe, but it was a
euphoric
suffocation
. It fed the overwhelming sexual de
sire that grew in my
groin
.
I was ready to bur
st. When she ached out the long moan of
achievement
,
I
pulled back with a gasp.

But I didn’t want to look at her. I didn’t want to lose that ache I felt myself, that need to finish. That need to have that bitter result.
My head was down as she stood and, grabbing my hair
,
she led me to stand. I wasn’t on my feet long before she had my pants down.

She was perfect.
Her lips were perfect. The
y
glided against me with the right amount of tease and not for very long.

I
stood
there saluting, throbbing with every beat of my heart when
she
lifted
to her feet, brought her lips to m
y
ear
, and in a wet whisper
said
,
“
Fuck me.”

It took one sweep of my arm
,
and I sent
a lot of items from my desk on
to the floor.

I didn’t care.

Again, not wanting to see her, I spun her face first to the empty desk, bent her over, lifted her skirt
,
and without hesitation, and with raging urgency, I entered her.

One hand to her head, the other to her hip, each motion of my body against her
s
was charged with the building tension and desire of the day, the moment.

I swore that at any given second, I would open my eyes, find a horrified Sharon as I feverishly and unknowingly masturbated in the dementia of a full
-
on fantasy.

Bu
t
that
wasn’t the case.

Her moans of
“
Oh
God’ fed me
,
and the desk rocked and the half
-
filled whiskey glasses clanked as I slammed into her.

Was I hurting her? I didn’t know. But until the second of fulfillment, it didn’t
occur to
me. Exasperated, I fell onto her. We both breathed heavily.

“I
didn’t
hurt you
, did I?” I asked.

“
N
o. Not at all.
” She tried to catch her breath. “I need a drink
,
though.”

“Me, too.” I reached down for my pants.

She handed me a drink. “Are we done?”

I brought the glass to my lips. “It depends.”

“On?”

“If you’ll do me a favor
,
” I spoke breathless
ly
.

“What is that?”

“Take off your dress, go put that coat on
,
and walk back
through
the door.” I gave an up of my head and finished my drink.

She produced an
ornery
smile, set down her glass
,
and walked
to
the door, lifting her
coat
as she did. “Give me a second.”

My mouth was dry and I hurriedly had another drink as I made my way behind my desk. Sitting there, waiting.

She knocked.

“Come in.” I said.

She stepped in wearing
t
he coat. “I’m not late
,
am I?” she asked seductively.

“Absolutely not. Have a seat.”

“I think I’ll have my session on the couch.” She walked over,
lay
down
,
and lifted her leg while relaxing.

She had taken off the dress. I could see that. Smiling and grabbing my notebook, I pulled a chair over and created a reality of one of my many fantasies.

Was it a
mistake?
Absolutely
.
My
mind
justified it as my illness getting the best of me
,
and I just didn’t care.

My reasons for throwing myself and seducing the good doctor were not purely
sexual
. They were
about
control
.
If I had him in the palm of my hand, then I was able to control him. Sexual chemistry is a powerful thing. I strived to attach that to Desmond.

He was easy. Too easy. He
played like putty and folded with my first touch. Perhaps I was right in my assumption that he was attracted to me.

There was something especially kinky about Desmond Andrews.
I knew playing that card with him would make him vulnerable.
He liked sex. He thrived on it more than any man I
’d
ever encountered and had a teenage enthusiasm and seemingly
insatiable
appetite.

I handled it.

I needed to know about Pam. What they spoke of, where his thoughts were. I needed him under my spell of lust to control
him
, implant things in his mind
,
and make hi
m
turn on his own patient.

That was my plan.

I didn’t intend to be his play
thing for several hours. It
w
as
if he
had this cabinet full of fantasies waiting to unleash and I was the ‘dam breaker’ and he gushed forth … in more ways than one.

Would I meet him again?

Absolutely. Not because the sex was mind blowing. It wasn’t. I had better and I had worse. I’d meet him again as his reward for unknowing
ly
giving me
information
.

It happened
the
second time h
e
had me bent over his desk. The first time the office was too dark, he was rough, getting out that first round of ambition. Plus he hovered
over
me.

The second time, though, he was too busy
examining
my posterior
. I was bent
over;
he was on his knee
s
probing with
his mouth
and hands. I
squirmed
for the effect, wiggled some to keep him down
there,
because in his haste
he didn’t realize he left a folder on his desk. One of the few items that didn’t
fly
to the floor.

The folder had Pam’s name on it and inside
were printed
sheets of news stories. He had little s
heets
of
paper
tossed
in there as well. I smiled. One of them was Justin’s phone number and a name written. Stacy. I knew that name.

I had to
encourage
him to continue
until
I
w
as done
looking
. “Keep going
,
baby, that feels so good.” I quietly flipped a page.

“
God, I
’m ready to take you again,” he said.

“Just a little more. It feels …”
Fuck!
I stopped talking when I saw it. Richie’s father’s address. Why? Why was it there?
Rich, Justin, Stacy, murders and deaths of people I knew and could be connected to. Was the good doctor finally seeing the truth about Pam and putting it all together
?
I could only hope. I tried to make heads or tails out of the scribbled handwritten notes, but it was difficult. Desmond
took my sudden silence as a sign of pleasure.

I was so engrossed in what I read
or tried to read
, I hadn’t a clue what all he was doing down there. He was having fun and
staying busy, out of my way
.

Wit
h
his groan of, “I can’t hold
back
,
” I quickly shut the folder, mov
ed
it aside
,
and ‘bucked up’ for the ride.

I let Desmond do what he needed to do to me, but the whole time I was poised there, I thought
o
f what
I
had to do.

There were two reasons I went to Vito
Electronics
.
They
had a sale on computers
,
and it also was the former body shop that was below Marion Blake’s apartment.

“So you think this price will be good next week?” I asked the salesman.

“
Yeah
, this is
the
normal price. In fact, we may be having a sale on a different model.”

“That’d be wonderful. I …” Paused and pointed upward. “I saw the apartment upstairs is for rent.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Couldn’t get me to live there if it were free.”

“Why is that?”

He looked around the store. “A woman was murdered there years
ago. People
say it’s haunted. Hell
,
I know it is. There are times I hear footsteps and I know no one is there.”

I shivered
with
a chill
that I
got from his story. “Maybe she isn’t resting in peace.”

“They neve
r caught who did it. This store
used to be an auto body place. But they moved right after the murder because of the stigma. I
t
really hurt their business.”

“At least they didn’t go out of business,” I said.

“No, they’re actually a few blocks
down
the road.” He shrugged. “It’s a real interesting story. You ought to look it up on the Internet.”

“I’ll have to do
that.
” I didn’t tell him that I had already looked into it
,
t
hat he aided
me
with the information that I needed.

The story printed
about
Marion Blake told about her body being discovered by the downstairs auto body man long after she had been killed.

He had noticed he hadn’t
seen
her. He thought at first something had happened with the pregnancy, but after she missed paying her rent and the landlord asked the guys to keep an eye out for her, the auto body guy, Leon, went to check.

Ironically, he was
the
number one suspect because he frequently made late
-
night trips to the garage to work. In his testimony, he said that one night he heard arguing. Women arguing. He didn’t think much of it. He recalled the date because of the car he was working on and that led them to accuse me.

The article didn’t mention me by name
,
b
ut
it
said
that
they couldn’t make the charges stick.

I wondered if Leon was still working for the auto body place
;
it was worth a shot, and during the short walk a few blocks down the street, I came up with my reasons for seeking Leon.

At first I asked if it was the same shop that was previously located down the street. When they said it was, I took a shot in the dark and asked if Leon still worked there.

He did.

The manager called Leon to the front. He was in his fifties, a little gray
.
He
want
ed
a cigarette,
so
he gladly stepped outside with me. I told him I was glad he still worked there
;
he said he had job security
because
his brother owned the shop.

I gave a fake name
,
Lola
,
and said I was a writer working on an unsolved murder book and came across the one from years ago.

Immediately
, he grew
skittish
and stepped back. He stared at me.

“No, listen, I’m not here because you were at one
time
a suspect.”

“Okay,” he stated. “Then why are you
here
?”

“
Witness
.”

He
smirked
,
and his lips fiddled with the cigarette. “Yeah, well, my witness
testimony
didn’t mean squat now, did it?”

“Why do you think that was?” I asked.

“One, because I was
accused
,
and two, I was always drunk back then. No one took me serious
ly
.
That girl that was killed was a really nice girl.
Very nice.”

“I’m sure she was.”

“She was
,
”
h
e snapped.

“
They
said
you heard voices and arguing?”

He nodded. “Women
,
yes. I was under the stairs outside having a smoke and beer. Hiding
,
you know, in
case
my wife drove by. I saw the woman. I saw her.
She
walked
up the steps to Marion’s apartment.
” He nodded again at me. “All dolled up, high heels, short skirt, big hair
,
and I could smell her perfume.”

“Did you give this description to the police?”

“Yep
,
I did.” He
tossed
h
is
cigarette
. “But I
didn’t know
what was said when she knocked on the door, because I went back in
side
. The arguing was loud and then it stopped. I
didn’t
hear any
screaming
. If I had,
I would have called the police
right away. In fact, I
vowed
I would call the police if I ever saw her again.”

“It’s been years. Do you think you
would
recognize
her?
”

“Absolutely, without a doubt. I looked up those steps. I saw her face.
She was hot
.
I’d recognize her.” He winked. “What did you say your name was?”

“Lola. Lola Andrews.”

“You live around here or you just
passing
through
town?”

“I just moved here.”

“Well, maybe you can stop by again.” He winked. “You and I can go out.”

I smiled politely. “I may. You’ve been helpful. Thank you.”

“No. Thank you.”

We shook hands
;
he held on to mine a little longer. And I walked away
.
He seemed like a hard working and nice enough man. Maybe after it was all said and done, after Sharon was away f
or
good, then I’d take him up
on his
offer.

He deserved it. He was a key witness that no one took
serious
ly,
and he said he’d recognize her anywhere.

I needed him to see Sharon. I needed him to indentify her to authorities. I was so close, I just had to figure out how I was going to get her to the auto shop or get a picture to show Leon.

It would happen. I was determined.