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Authors: Dennis Larsen

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BOOK: With Cruel Intent
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said, a concerned inflection to her hushed

voice.

“I’m not glad but with the stuff

we’ve been talking about lately in class,

it’s weird that we’d have a deviant

starting to do some of the same things

here, that we’ve studied, that’s all. I hope

nobody gets hurt too. Worries me when

I’m at school and my mom is home alone.

Anyway, I’m anxious to hand in my

project today, you know, the one you

helped me with the other night? It’s due

this afternoon and I think we did pretty

well on it. Maybe when I’m done today,

I’ll swing by the library and update you on

what’s going on, that is if you’re

interested,” he coyly asked.

“That would be fine. I’ll be here

all day, but I’ve got something tonight so I

have to be sure to leave on time.”

He was dying to ask what it was

she had that evening but didn’t want to pry

or sound possessive, so he let it drop. If

she wanted to tell him, it would come out,

especially if she’d started dating someone.

“K, well have a good day and I’ll

maybe see you later,” he said, snapping

his phone shut.

The balance of the day passed

quickly. Her lunch with Marcus was fun

as usual, she loved the back and forth jabs

and the lighthearted conversations that

helped to pass the time when he was

around. By 3:00 p.m. she had cleared her

boxes of the items contained therein and

was looking for things to do, when a man,

approximately her own age, came to the

front desk and asked her where he might

find some information on ‘Voodoo’ and

the ‘Occult’. She couldn’t remember the

last time that she’d had to find such

material and it took her a few minutes to

wrap her librarian brain around the

request, before sending him in the desired

direction.

“Well, that's a tough one. Can’t say

I’ve done much reading myself on those

subjects so give me a minute and let me

look through the electronic catalog,” she

said, keeping a very courteous and

professional lilt to her voice.

“No problem. I’m in no rush take

your time. I’ll just hang out here while you

look.” He was attractive, in a unique sort

of way; Blanche had thought when she’d

first seen him from her desk. It looked like

he’d just gotten a haircut, his dark hair

trimmed above his ears with slight bangs

and no sideburns. He was clean-shaven,

wore no spectacles, was thin faced and

she could tell, under his form fitting shirt

and shorts that he was in remarkable

shape. There was a moment when she had

first looked into his eyes, a sense of

acknowledgement, almost recognition,

which she dismissed quickly. She hadn’t

met that many people yet and she was sure

she would have remembered this good-

looking guy. He politely waited patiently

at the desk, not taking his eyes off of

Blanche, as she looked for the requested

information. He made light of the weather

and tried to keep some type of

conversation going.

“You’re not from around here. No

accent, where you from?” he asked.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m from out

west, Arizona to be exact. Not much of an

accent out there but some have told me I

have a bit of a drawl. What do you think?”

she said, being a bit flirtatious.

“I don’t know if I’d call it a drawl

or not but your voice is certainly sexy. Not

what I’d expect for a librarian, if you

don’t mind me saying,” he said, taking her

cue.

“Oh, I don’t mind, but don’t tell

that to Mrs. Anderson, the director, she’s

already worried about the clothing I

wear.” They both laughed in that, ‘I’m in a

library’, kind of hush. “Here we go, I think

I’ve found what you are looking for,

section H next to the shelves on travel. Do

you need any help finding that?”

“That would be very helpful. I’ve

never been in this library before and could

use a hand. Do you do everything around

here, manage the front desk, and assist

clients, the whole nine yards?”

"Some days. Mrs. Anderson helps

out a lot and we have a college student

that works nights."

"Oh really, where does he go? I

went to school here in Valdosta," he said,

through lying lips.

"Is that right? He goes to The

University. How 'bout you?”

He had to think quickly or get

caught in his lie. “I, ah, just went to the

tech college, hands on stuff,” he said,

following Blanche through the library.

They walked together to the

section in question on the main floor and

Blanche showed him where he could find

the type of material he had mentioned. He

thanked her, shaking her hand and

introducing himself as Rob, no last name,

but she returned the favor and walked

back to her desk. A short time later she

noted that he had selected a book and had

sat in a chair that gave him a direct line of

sight to the front desk. He seemed engaged

in what he was reading but on more than

one occasion she had looked up to catch

him eyeing her, and had quickly averted

his eyes back to the pages of the book

when she’d caught him staring. She

thought it odd but it wasn’t the first time

that men had been caught staring at her

both here and elsewhere. After all, he kind

of intrigued her a bit, nothing wrong with

him checking her out, he was pleasant

enough and she hadn’t seen any rings. The

notion that she’d seen him before

continued to eat at her until he approached

the front desk again, thanked her for being

so helpful, placed a $5 bill in the donation

container and left, but not before

promising that he’d be back and was sure

he’d need her services again.

With the library locked up and the

staff on their way home, Blanche hailed a

taxi with instructions to take her to the

university campus and to drop her as close

as possible to the auditorium, wherever

that was. The campus was beautiful,

sprawling lawn; cream pillared buildings

with contrasting orange tiled roofs dotted

the grounds. A large iron gate dominated

the entrance to the campus and a bricked

walkway extended beyond the gate that

led to a two-story building, with people

funneling into the front doors. She saw no

signs, other than the few scattered along

the path, ‘Go Blazers’ and ‘We Love Our

Blazers’, but the only building that seemed

to have any activity was the one straight

ahead. Situated in front of the building

was a large fountain, water cascading into

a sparkling pool, a few students seated on

the rim, splashing their hands in the cool

water. Maneuvering past the students she

noted a large placard on the wall near the

open doors, ‘Auditorium’, and a sign on

an easel that read, ‘Lowndes County Mr.

Muscle Competition’ with the details

listed below. A brochure sat on a nearby

table featuring a very muscular man and

woman on the front, all oiled up, posing,

and muscles ready to burst. She reluctantly

took one, looking around to see if anyone

saw her slip it into her purse. Blanche

followed the moving crowd until she

could see a stage with lighting technicians

making final adjustments for the upcoming

event. The room was about 50% of

capacity and of course she could see no

one that she was familiar with, so she

tried to find an inconspicuous place to

ride out the event.

She spotted a chair in the back left

corner with very few people around and

started slipping between the rows of

chairs when she heard, “Ms. Delaney, dat

you?” Her heart stopped. Who would be

calling her name so loudly in a public

arena with so many people filling the

room? She turned to see an older black

man

walking

toward

her,

arms

outstretched, one leg appearing to be a

little shorter than the other, causing him to

hop step as he moved. “I knowed dat was

you. Sho nuff, ya did come, just like

Jasper said ya would.” Rufus, by this time

had reached Blanche and taken both of her

hands in his. “Ya lookin’ as pertty today

as when we met dat day on my poche.

Why you sittin’ all da way back heah? I

done got us a place right up at da front

where we can see betta. Come on now,

Jasper be so happy to see ya right up dere

at da front.”

“Well Rufus, I don’t know, seems

awfully close and the lights are so warm.

Maybe I better just sit back here, I’m sure

I’ll see just fine,” Blanche tried to

convince him, giving some resistance to

his persistent pulling.

“Ms. Delaney, don’t ya be silly,

don’t ya want ta git a close look at these

muscle mens,” Rufus said, winking at the

good-looking white woman.

“Of course, but don’t you need to

save that for family or somebody more

important?” she mildly continued to

object.

“Jasper says nobody comin’ to dis

tonight that’d be mo impotant than Ms.

Delaney,” again smiling and showing the

spaces in his teeth.

“Well, I’m very flattered. Okay, I

guess we can sit up there if that’s what

you want,” she said, finally giving in and

allowed the older gentleman to pull her

down the aisle and to the seats closer to

the front.

Jasper had been watching from the

security of the stage behind the large

curtain pulled to either side and held in

place by gold hooks fashioned into lion

heads. He was pleased to see her. She

was everything he’d been looking for in a

woman and destiny had thrown them

together not once, but twice. He was sure

it was a sign. He had hoped she would

come tonight; maybe he’d have the

courage to ask her out on a real date. The

few minutes he’d spent with her over the

past few weeks had filled his memory and

fueled his imagination. On more than one

occasion he’d been pulled from a dream

much sooner than he would have liked.

Just seemed every time she was about to

drop the bikini top or come crawling into

his bed, he’d wake up spoiling the

inevitable. Other contestants milled about

on the stage, friends and handlers covering

their hairless bodies with oil, in

preparation for the judging. Jasper knew

that on this night he’d be performing for

only one person and she was no judge.

On the very last row of seats, a

man sat, light jacket over a dark t-shirt,

long denim jeans, athletic shoes, a

Brave’s baseball cap covering a fresh

haircut, pulled over his forehead and dark

sunglasses. He had hoped that the

librarian would not have given in to the

older black man and stayed at the back of

the auditorium. The Stalker could have

gotten some awesome voyeuristic pictures

of her seated alone, nothing to obstruct his

view. He cursed Rufus under his breath,

the small compact digital camera hugging

his palm. He hoped that the trouble of

following her tonight would pay off, with

at least a few pictures, if not something

more. The lights dimmed throughout the

auditorium as those on stage intensified.

He thought back to the few hours prior.

Holding her hand in his, so soft, so

feminine, he’d gotten caught up in the

moment and almost gave her his real

name. Thankfully, ‘Rob’ had come to his

mind quickly. Surely he’d be able to come

up with a logical explanation for that

guffaw later, when he revealed himself to

her completely.

An announcer made his way to the

microphone positioned in the front center

of the large stage. He wore a striking,

classic black suit, white ruffled shirt and

black bow tie. Blanche suspected he’d be

BOOK: With Cruel Intent
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