Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (6 page)

“I appreciate the help,” he said with a smile. “Maybe you should put on an apron and a hair net. You'll find both in the walk-in closet,” he said with a jerk of his head.

Maggie nodded and headed for the closet. He quietly followed and when she was inside he swiftly placed his hands on her buttocks and pushed her against the wall. He pinned her in place with his body and moved his hands to her chest.

“You have a nice ass and a decent set of tits,” he said into her ear. “You ought to show them off. You be nice to Eddie and Eddie will see to it you get a job."

He felt her relax and he moved his hand down her flat stomach. As his fingers tried to slip under the large brass belt buckle, her bony right elbow smashed into his rib cage. He jumped back in pain and surprise. Too late, he tried to prevent her knee from finding its mark between his legs.

He dropped to the floor and rolled on his back with knees bent, gasping for breath and clutching his groin. She pressed the brogan on her right foot against his throat and applied pressure.

“Say you're sorry,” she hissed.

“I'm sorry,” he wheezed.

“Tell me you are a worthless piece of shit."

“I'm worthless."

She pressed harder.

“I'm a worthless piece of shit."

“Tell me you'll never touch me again."

“I'll never touch you again."

She moved away and put on a white apron while he rose to his knees.

“Maggie,” he said. “I really am sorry. I thought you were sending me a signal."

She looked at him but did not respond as she put on a hairnet and adjusted her red cap. He struggled to his feet.

“Damn, you're strong. Where did you learn that stuff?"

“I have five brothers,” she said as she pushed past him on her way back to the kitchen.

Eddie's pride was wounded, but try as he would, he could not keep up with Maggie's pace. By noon, half the boxes were empty, their contents washed and put away.

“Fix me a sandwich, Eddie,” George Bennett said through the partially opened door. “Forty-six interviews and there's still a line.” Then he noticed Maggie. “Hello, lovely lady,” he said cheerfully. He came into the kitchen and held out his hand. “I'm George Bennett. I own the place. Where did you come from?"

Eddie again felt his knees grow weak as Maggie smiled. “I'm Margaret Skinner,” she replied. “I saw your ad in the paper and came to apply for a job, but there were so many in line I decided to look the place over. I saw Eddie struggling with these heavy boxes and thought I'd give him a hand. I became so involved I never did get in line."

“She's worked my tail off, Mr. Bennett,” Eddie laughed. “Seriously, she's a good worker."

“Which of the jobs are you applying for?” Bennett asked.

“I'm a cook,” she replied.

“Hmmm. Do you have any experience?"

“I worked in the cafeteria kitchen the one year I was at Clemson. College just wasn't for me, so I took a job as a short order cook in Rock Hill, South Carolina. I was there almost five years."

“Why did you leave?"

She shot Eddie a glance. “It came to the point I could no longer stand the sexual harassment from my boss."

“I'm sorry,” Bennett said. “It's unfortunate, but there are men in this world who think women are on this earth solely to be their sexual toys."

“Yeah,” she said. “But in this case my boss was a woman."

“Oh,” Bennett said, his face coloring slightly.

“When I threatened to file charges against her, she beat me to the punch. She claimed I was embezzling receipts from the restaurant. Nothing came of her charges, of course, because I wasn't guilty. The whole thing was so messy, though, that I decided it was time to start over somewhere else. I thought I'd give Charlotte a try. That's how I came to see your ad."

“Married?” Bennett asked.

She shook her head and smiled. “Not even a boyfriend."

“Maggie,” Bennett said, “you're a very likable young lady. How old are you—twenty-five?"

“Close,” she replied. “Twenty-six."

“I like you very much and I am impressed by your industry, but I have all the kitchen personnel I need. You see, I used to own a restaurant chain in Charlotte. I was fortunate enough to get several of my former employees to come to work for me here. I still need waitresses and housekeepers for the motel though."

Maggie's shoulders sagged noticeably.

“What about the night shift—ten to six, Mr. Bennett?” Eddie asked.

“I don't think...” He paused.

“You don't think it's safe for a woman to work that shift?"

“I don't expect to have much business during those hours. I plan to have just one person running the place from midnight to six."

“I'll take it,” she said.

“I don't know."

“Boss,” Eddie chimed in. “She was raised in a family with five brothers. She knows how to take care of herself."

“Fill out an application,” Bennett said. “We'll see what happens. Report to work two weeks from today."

“Mr. Bennett,” Maggie said, her brilliant white teeth flashing as she smiled, “you won't regret it, but I need a job now. It looks like you have plenty of work to do getting set up, and I can help getting the motel ready too."

George grinned and shook his head. “It's hard to say no to you, Maggie Skinner. Fix me a hamburger with everything on it. Let's see your culinary talents in action."

“I saved your pretty little ass,” Eddie said after George returned to the waiting applicants.

Her big brown eyes flashed a warning. “Forget it,” she said.

“Hey. You've made your point. Your body is off limits. I respect that, but can't we be friends?"

“Okay, friend,” she smiled. “Do me another favor. Tell me where I can find a place in Dot to hang my cap."

“That's a tough one,” he said. “I rented the last place available a couple of weeks ago. It's just a four room house,” he explained. “There's barely enough room for my, uh, wife and me or I would offer to let you bunk with us until something turns up."

“Now that the weather is warming up,” she said, “I can sleep in my Blazer. How about letting me use your bathroom for showers and stuff?"

A vision of the naked beauty with beaded water on her breasts standing in his shower stall popped into Crow's mind. “No problem,” he leered. “And I have a Whirl Pool, too. Just the thing to take the ache out of those well developed muscles of yours."

They worked together at a fast pace and by late afternoon, all of the boxes were empty. Maggie heard George call her name. She looked up and saw him standing on the opposite side of the opening between the kitchen and front counter.

“I just got rid of the last one,” he said. “Come on out here and fill out an application."

“Boss,” Eddie said wiping his hands on his apron. “I'm gonna take ten and go check on Greta."

Bennett nodded.

“Good luck,” Eddie said. He lightly patted her bottom and danced away from her attempt to slap him. He went out to the loading dock and breathed deeply. There was a hint if spring in the air.

He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. He spotted the tractor trailer truck at the end of the row of motel rooms and walked briskly towards it. He watched as a crew of men finished furnishing the room and moved on to the next one. Greta was vacuuming the carpet when he entered the newly completed room.

“Not very fancy,” he said over the roar of the vacuum.

Greta smiled and switched off the noisy machine. “No, but the bed's comfortable,” she replied. “Go on, try it."

He sat on the edge of the mattress and bounced up and down. “Not bad,” he agreed.

Greta gasped as he pulled the toy pistol from his belt.

“Looks real, doesn't it?"

“If it ain't real, what is it?"

“It's an air pistol, or at least I thought it was. I bought it at Wal-Mart the other day. Turns out it has spring action—not compressed air. That limits the range and velocity."

“What do you want with an air gun?” she asked.

“It shoots darts as well as pellets,” he explained. “I was planning on dipping the darts in a strong tranquilizer and popping Sandra Dollar in the ass with it when I kidnap her. If it works like the tranquilizer guns animal control officers use, she'd be unconscious instantly. Trouble is, it doesn't have much range. What I need to do is find out how close to her I must be to get a dart to stick her scrawny hide."

“You ain't gonna test that thing on me, are you?"

“It's just a little dart,” he said, holding one in his hand. “Get in the bathroom, push your britches down and bend over the toilet."

“Eddie, please, don't make me do this."

“Tell you what,” he said, his face contorting into the sinister look she knew too well. “I'll give you a choice. You do what I told you or I'll jam this dart up to the hilt in your clit. It's your choice, bitch."

She walked sadly to the bathroom and followed his instructions. He went to the far wall, cocked the gun, raised the loading chamber, inserted the dart, closed the chamber and aimed.

She jerked when the dart reached its target.

“Don't move, bitch,” he warned. He strolled to the bathroom, picked the dart up from the floor and examined her buttocks. “Damn thing didn't even prick your skin."

He took a position about twenty feet away, cocked and loaded the gun, aimed and fired. Again the missile touched her buttock cheek but did not penetrate. The third try from fifteen feet, broke the skin, but did not stick in Greta's flesh. The fourth try from ten feet produced the desired result and Greta yelped as the metal point penetrated her flesh and remained partially embedded.

Eddie yanked out the dart and smiled when he saw blood on her skin. “Ten feet will do it,” he said. “I guess that's better than nothing."

“How do you plan to get her to take off her britches before you pop her?"

“You have a point. I guess I'll have to aim for her arm or face."

Greta started to get up, but he roughly pushed her back down. “Spread your ass cheeks, baby, and open up that nice little hole for me,” he demanded as he unzipped his pants.

As the pencil flew over the form, Maggie sensed Bennett's eyes studying her, but she felt no alarm. When she handed him the completed application she said, “Mr. Bennett, I appreciate you giving me this opportunity. I won't let you down, but I do have one problem."

He smiled easily. “And that is...?"

“I just came to the area yesterday. I spent the night in a motel in Charlotte, but I can't afford to keep that up much longer. Eddie says he has the last available rental unit in Dot. Do you happen to know of anything?"

“Not really,” he said. His heart seemed heavy as he saw the disappointment in her eyes.

“It's okay,” she said. “I can sleep in my Blazer until something opens up. Eddie said I could use his bathroom."

“You have a Blazer?” he asked.

She nodded. “It's my one luxury. It should be fairly obvious that I am the athletic type. The Blazer turns me on. I see myself using the four wheel drive to scamper over fields and through streams in search of adventure like in the TV ads,” she laughed.

“Maggie,” he said as he folded his hands together and placed them under his chin. “I think I need to tell you something.” He stared out over the dining area for a moment and then locked his eyes on hers. “You are the spitting image of my wife. She was five feet six and I'd wager you're the same. She had the same short brown hair and full eyebrows, the same radiant smile, the same facial beauty without the need of makeup, the same body build except maybe her, uh, chest area was a little fuller. She even liked to wear a ball cap and she had the same first name."

“Had?"

He nodded sadly.

“We sold our restaurants in Charlotte, bought a big, fancy house here in Dot and then she died.” He brushed a tear from his eye as Maggie reached for his hand.

He looked at her hand resting on his. “We were going to spend our retirement years playing golf, fishing, hiking, exploring and making love."

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Bennett."

“It's a big house. I just rattle around in it. I'm not a dirty old man, Maggie. What I'm trying to say is you're welcome to stay with me if you like."

She brightened. “I'll pay you rent and keep the place clean for you,” she offered.

He shook his head. “Mrs. Morgan comes in once a week to clean,” he said, “and I don't want your money. Consider it part of your salary. There is one thing you could do, though."

“I ... I can't replace your wife, Mr. Bennett,” she said and she wondered why she squeezed his hand.

“Hey,” he said sitting back in his chair. “I told you I am not a dirty old man."

“I didn't mean to imply..."

“I would like for us to become good friends,” he said with a weak smile. “When it's not an inconvenience I would like to, well, enjoy your company. Go to church with you, play golf, fish, go hiking—things like a daughter might do with her dad."

She smiled warmly. “I think that's a distinct probability."

Eddie Crow watched the last part of the conversation from his vantagepoint in the kitchen. He imagined it was his hand, not Bennett's, Maggie was squeezing. He saw himself pull Maggie's firm body against his, slip off her clothing as she removed his, explore her full lips as she snaked her tongue inside his mouth. He moaned and shook his head. One day, he promised himself. One day I'll lie between her upturned legs and feel her breasts flatten against my chest.

While Maggie moved her things from the Blazer to the large guestroom directly across from the master bedroom, George prepared dinner consisting of tossed salad, baked potatoes, thick charcoal T-bone steaks and Texas toast. They ate in silence, listening to the sound of big band music coming from the den stereo. She insisted on washing the dishes, but as soon as the last utensil was put away she slipped beneath the rippling waves of the Whirl Pool in the bathroom of the master bedroom. I could get used to this, she thought.

George snapped on the big screen TV in the den and stretched out on the sofa. He wasn't used to the long working day he just completed. It seemed as if every muscle of his body was in rebellion. He watched one sitcom after another, too tired to use the remote to search for better shows. He turned over on his side and groaned out loud.