The Lawyer and the Killer Ch. 02

He recalled her courtroom performance. He remembered how he liked the way she sort of danced around the courtroom floor. Sometimes she'd do this little pirouette and her skirt would skim up around her knees. She had this impertinent precociousness, a pert sassy personable demeanor he liked. He remembered thinking how good she'd look on his arm if they were ever out someplace. But he'd met a lot of women.

He reflected this would have been one he'd have been proud of. He brushed those thoughts of. That kind of silliness was no reason to keep her alive.

Face it. She really wasn't worth an extra moment's notice one way or the other. If she lived another hour, another day, another month it didn't matter much one way or the other. If he kept her alive no one would know. If he killed her, no one would know that either. That seemed to make sense. Hell that settled it. If it didn't matter one way or the other, it could just as easily be the other. He'd keep her around a while, or at least until he got bored.

He realized, though he'd been looking right at her, he'd been off in space. He could tell she was starting to feel self-conscious, "You look very nice. Follow me inside where I can discuss my plans for your immediate future." He turned and started inside.

Not having much choice, she followed along behind.

After he left the patio Susan had gone to the bathhouse where she found what he expected her to put on. While she liked the outfit, it reminded her again of the seemingly childish nature of everything she'd been asked to wear so far. Not that she seriously minded. They were all nice clothes, and she might have selected some of these things on her own. It was just the idea that she had no control over what was happening to her. It was like he told her she was a thing, a thing he controlled.

That stopped her. She thought about that. He hadn't used the word, thing. She just did. He never once called her anything but a person.

Her next thought was not to find a way to get away, but to find a way to stay silent. She really wanted to scream. She wanted to yell, cuss. She wanted to argue. What she wanted was punch him in the nose. But she feared anything like that would only bring the gag, and padlocks back. She thought, just stay quiet. Keep your ears open. He'll slip up. Men always do.

She followed him into the house. They went through a broad expanse that had to be the main living room, and on into a somewhat smaller room where a television was mounted on the wall.

He found the remote control and turned on the television. Then reclining on what she could only describe as a sinfully large and beautiful couch, he motioned for her to kneel on the floor in front of him. As she moved to sit facing him he said, "No face the television. Let's see what in the news, and then we'll see if we can't find a movie or something to watch. You sit here on the floor. I want to brush out your hair."

Susan obediently sat down in front of him, facing away and toward the television.

The man took control of the remote and began to flick through the channels looking for something worth watching. He could see by the dial it was after 7:30 so all the regular national news programs were finished. He checked through the movie stations until he found something they both could watch.

There was an older movie. The stars predated the both of them. It starred Steve McQueen and Natalie Wood, and the blurb said something about two young lovers, and an abortion. He, as was the case with most men, always liked Steve McQueen.

The girl sitting at his feet had no say in what they were to watch. The fact of the matter was she wasn't supposed to have any say about anything. She just sat there, and assumed he had settled on the McQueen and Wood flick.

Susan had seen this old movie at least two or three times before. It was one of those cult films young women sometimes got hooked on; something of a chick flick about the nice girl who had been wronged by some man, and now the man was trying to find a way to help her get out of the jam she was in. She was pregnant with his child. He didn't want to take any responsibility so she was being maneuvered into an abortion. The movie, like all the movies of that era, ended well. The rat McQueen would find out he really loved her, and would want to settle down, but not until they had gone through several tight spots. She liked the movie, and if she could have a say, she would tell him this was a good choice.

The man recalled after about five minutes that he'd seen this video before. He remembered liking it. He liked McQueen's character, and he remembered liking Natalie Wood as well. He thought she probably had never seen it. She was only a twenty something. It would be a good story for her. She might learn something from it.

Not long into the movie he leaned over and told her he needed to go get something. She wasn't to leave. Actually what he wanted to do was get a hairbrush and clear the knots out of her hair. That's what he told himself, what he really wanted was find an excuse to be able to touch her again.

As he stepped out of the room Susan took the time the look around. She had no intention of getting up or trying to run. Where would she go? Where could she go? She didn't have the slightest clue as to where here was yet. She liked this room. It was obviously set up to be a movie room, or some place where someone could curl up, relax, and watch an old movie or read an old novel. The furniture in this room had that rich comfortable look one might find in the home of some happily married older couple. She'd already taken note of the big, thick lazy looking couch. She also noticed there was a large inviting lazy boy. There was also a cool little love seat.

She liked it in here. There was a coffee table that sat just in front of where she was kneeling. She thought he probably wouldn't mind if she let her legs slip out from under her. She was getting a little cramped. She pulled her legs out and allowed her bottom to plop itself on the carpet. The carpet had a rich thick pile. She didn't have any panties on. It was very comfortable. It rubbed up against her puss. She only hoped he wasn't one of those men who liked the submissive look. The kneeling she'd been doing was getting fatiguing.

He came back in armed with a brush, comb, and some ribbon. He saw she'd changed her seat, "I see you've changed your seat."

She started to move back.

He said, "No, stay the way you are. That kneeling thing gets old after a while. I want you to relax. We'll watch this old movie together, and while we're watching it I want to do something about your hair. It's starting to look knotted."

He sat down and placed his hands on her shoulders. His hands weren't particularly big, but they engulfed her small shoulders. He let his thumbs press lightly against her neck. His fingers could reach down and touch her clavicles.

He blew her hair to get a better glimpse of her neck. She either shivered or flinched, he wasn't sure. He didn't mean to scare her. She had a long swan like graceful neck.

He began fiddling with her hair. He took the brush first and began stroking it slowly and carefully down the back. Every now and then he caught it on a knot. He never understood why, but he'd always liked fooling around with a woman's body, their hair, their skin, their breasts, and that warm crease between their legs. He thought it wasn't just about the sex. It was just fun to do. He remembered the old song that had the refrain that went, they may be stupid, but they sure are fun.

He was starting to warm up again. He used his fingers when he found a knot too big to pull the brush through. He took both hands and pulled her hair back toward the nape of her neck. He wished now he hadn't told the girls to cut it quite this short. A person could do more with longer hair. Still he could get a good grip on what she still had. He took the comb and started to make a part down the middle. Using his hands and the comb he organized it into two medium long pigtails.

He had two rubber bands he used to hold each tail in place. He took the two pieces of ribbon, and tied them around the top in little bows. The ribbon was red. Each segment was about twelve inches long, and it was about a half inch wide. The extra ribbon cascaded down with the pony tails. When he finished he ordered her to turn around. She did. He liked his workmanship. She looked like a little girl. It was cute. She looked, for want of a better word, she looked kind of cuddly. Yes he thought he might keep her around for a while. Playing with her so far had been fun.

Susan sat patiently while the man worked on her hair. Susan always liked going to the beauty shop. She liked being made over. She liked having someone else do all the primping. He was being very gentle. She'd never been around a man quite like this one. His was a soft touch. It felt good. He made it feel real good.

She was wearing a dress, and she didn't have any under pants on. What she wanted to do while he was combing out her hair was touch herself. She was feeling warm down in her secret place, and she knew that she was getting moist. She hoped she didn't leave a spot on the rug. She knew she couldn't help how she was feeling. It wasn't him. It was just the natural way to feel when someone was making over her. She could feel her labia through the dress. They were beginning to swell. She liked the way he touched her. She wished he would do more than just comb out her hair.

He asked her to stand up so he could see her. She did. There was a smallish mirror on the wall on the side. She made a side wise glance toward it. She couldn't help but notice how she looked. She looked awfully childlike. Maybe that was his fetish? If it that was the case, then she'd use if she could. If that got him to lower his guard so she could find some advantage, then she was all for it. Meanwhile, whether he had a fetish for women dressed and acting like girls or whatever, she enjoyed the attention. Maybe he wouldn't kill her. She grimaced. Don't think about that.

He saw her grimace, "I didn't hurt you did I?"

"No. I was just thinking."

He took her hand and pulled her back to the floor, "Don't think so much."

Just then his cell phone rang. He'd forgotten he'd brought it into the television room with him. It was the man he'd talked to about the cat. He heard the man ask if he wanted the cat right now. He answered, "Yes, bring it in." He sat back. Her hair was done, so he decided to go back to the movie. It was the scene where Natalie Wood was trying to fix Steve McQueen a homemade dinner.

His man strode into the room carrying a paper bag. He handed it to his boss, "Here's the thing you wanted."

He thanked his employee, and handed the bag to the girl, "I think this is yours."

Susan took the bag. She felt something squirming inside. She knew right away that the thing in the bag was Tom, her cat. She opened the bag, and out jumped her big red tabby. He pounced on her and started to meow. He was purring and meowing. She knew he was hungry. It didn't matter. Her cat was here. This man whom she should loath, her kidnapper, her jailer, her potential murderer had gotten her cat for her.

Susan jumped for joy. She let out a little yell, "Oh Tom," she cried. She squeezed the cat mercilessly, and then she turned to the man, "Thank you. Oh thank you so much. This means so much to me."

She climbed up on his lap. She was out of control. She reached around, took his head in her hands, and kissed him on his lips. She nestled her head in his shoulder, "I know I'm not supposed to talk, but I don't care. Thank you. Oh, thank you." That was all she was able to say. She was crying again.

For the man her gratitude was more than he expected. He thought she'd be pleased, but this was more than he could hope for. That is, if he hoped for anything from her. He was befuddled and somewhat taken aback, "Well I'm glad you're happy. Getting your cat wasn't anything." He really wanted to grab her and throw her back on the couch, but she'd gotten him out of sorts.

He spoke again, "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to watch the rest of the movie." As he turned to the movie he saw it was the scene where the Natalie Wood's home cooked dinner plans had exploded in disaster. He thought, "And I'm turning this moment into a disaster as well." He didn't want that so he spoke again, "Let me see your cat. He looks like a tabby. Is that right?"

Susan had become frightened again. Her burst of gratitude hadn't turned out well. Now he wanted to talk about the cat. He'd asked her a question. She thought it over. She decided she should provide him with an answer of some sort. "This is Tom. I found him outside near the trash bin by my apartment complex a few years ago. He was a kitten then, and it looked like he wasn't going to make it. I brought him in, and well, he and I have been close buds ever since."

She looked like the type who would take in a stray. The man took the cat from her and hugged it in his arms, "He's a big healthy fellow isn't he? I'll bet he weighs twelve pounds. What does he like to eat? Is there any special cat food you use? If there is I'll see to it that we get some. I mean if that's all right with you?"

Susan was delighted. She was being asked to talk. He was asking mundane life giving questions. She answered, "Yes, He likes Fancy Feast, the canned, but he doesn't like it in the gravy. He usually eats about one can a day. He'll need some litter too, and he has to have a litter box. He likes the dried cat food also. I usually get him Meow Mix."

The man answered, "As far as the litter box is concerned I have yours in storage. So we can use the one he's used to. Regarding the cat food and the litter, we'll get somebody out first thing tomorrow morning to handle that. Meanwhile we'll see if he'll eat some of the left over crab meat we had earlier. You satisfied with that?"

Susan wondered to herself, he's letting me talk. He has my stuff in storage. Then, in a more composed manner, she spoke again, "That's very kind of you. Thank you very much. But there' just one more thing if you'll allow it?"

He responded gruffly, "What."

Susan asked, "Could you tell me what's going to happen to me?"

The man stiffened and then responded, "Tonight, in a little while, I'm going to show you where you're going to sleep. As for your long-term future I've got some thinking to do. I'll give you a better idea sometime tomorrow. I will say this. You don't need to be afraid for your life." Then smiling he added, "That is as long as you remember to keep quiet."

Susan thought this was all good news. She thought, since she was already on the couch, thanks to her leap of gratitude, she decided to stay where she was until he told her to get back on the floor. She was feeling tired. She leaned against his right shoulder and curled up against him. She felt so sleepy. She could feel herself slipping off. Slowly but steadily she began to slip downward until her head was in his lap. Lying there, almost asleep, she could feel his hardness. That was the last thing she remembered that evening.

The man sat there like a wooden Indian. He thought this was about as crazy as things could get. How did this happen? I'm making promises to a girl I'm supposed to eliminate, or at least not keep around too long. He gave an involuntary shrug. Well, I guess that's the way it goes. He looked down at her. She was fast asleep. He'd have to carry her to bed. He decided he would put her in his bed this evening. It was larger, and had the nicest bathroom. That way when she awakened she'd have more ample facilities. He could go to sleep anywhere.

Slowly he scooped her somnolent body up in his arms carried her down the hall and up the stairs. As he carried her he brushed an errant frond of hair from her face. He realized as he had her in his arms how small and light she was.

His bedroom was on the eastern end of the house. He thought he would open the curtains so she would awaken to the rising sun. Meanwhile he'd keep the damn cat downstairs with him.

Once they reached his bedroom he gently laid her on the coverlet. He pulled back the sheets, the blanket, and the spread. He rolled her over.

Carefully he took off the dress she was wearing. He thought she could sleep in the altogether this evening. Then, impulsively he took his hand and softly rubbed around each of her breasts. Boy he thought, she's really is a hottie. He watched her as she slept. She looked so innocent, so beautiful. She didn't need him to kill her; she needed someone to watch over her so she could enjoy playing lawyer. Covering her only with the sheet he quietly stepped away.

As an afterthought he went to the desk, pulled out a sheet of paper, and wrote her another brief note. He thought she might become frightened again when she awakened. Once the note was completed he quietly left the bedroom, closed the door, but he locked it from the outside. He thought he might be a little on the maudlin side right now, but he wasn't a fool.

Hours later Susan awakened from a long and restful sleep. She wasn't confused when she woke up this time. She knew she didn't know where she was. Scratching her head and feeling the ribbons she looked around the room. This was the largest bedroom she'd ever slept in.

The sun was pouring in from the big picture window, and she could see what could only be described as a magnificent view. She got up and went to the window. The weather hadn't turned cool yet, so she felt comfortable. Looking out she saw one of the most picturesque scenes Mother Nature could provide. There were gently rolling hills, a bubbly stream, and several small clumps of trees. She noticed several horses grazing in the distance.

Everything was green and clean. It was beautiful and she loved it.

She might have stayed and looked longer, but another aspect of nature was calling. Turning, she saw what most certainly must be the bathroom. She headed for it, opened the door, and took advantage of the facilities. While cleaning herself she felt like another kind of dark cloud was descending on her. It occurred to her that she'd been to the bathroom twice since they'd had sex, and neither time did she have a sense that she'd wiped away any semen. She thought he'd really shot it up there. What if? No she put that out of her mind. She mentally reassured herself that could never be. But what if it could be? She grew mildly concerned, yes, it certainly could be. She blew it off. Probably not!

She looked around the bathroom. It had a hot tub, a walk in shower, and sink with a counter that traversed the entire wall. She found the linen closet. There were several kinds of soaps, creams, moisturizers, and lotions. Some of them had been opened and seemed to have been used. She noted the ones that had been used were ingredients for men. She opened one of the bottles of cologne. It had a spicy smell. She liked the aroma. It was a manly scent, his scent. She wondered what his name was.

There were also several substances intended for women. She noted none of them had ever been opened. That reassured her for some reason. Well she thought now's the time. Susan took a bottle of soap and a bottle of hair shampoo and went to the shower. She turned the water on, and let it heat up to a temperature she liked. She went to work, scrubbing, shampooing, cleaning, and just generally getting refreshed. She thought he might want to kill me today so she better be at her best. The thought of being killed did seem somewhat sobering, but Susan rationalized, she didn't think he was going to kill her. He could have done that a dozen times, instead they'd had sex, had lunch, watched a movie, he got her cat, and she was sure it had been him who put her to bed.