A Rose By Any Other Name Ch. 03

ALL CHARACTERS ARE ADULTS



The Crown Victoria turned off the highway into the alley; the driver located the secluded spot, pulled into it, killed the engine, and waited. After fifteen minutes or so Todd Jackson rapped the passenger side window with his knuckles. The driver unlocked and opened the door; Todd slipped inside the car and closed the door.

"Where's my fuckin money?" Todd demanded.

The driver looked at Todd, "You ain't done shit yet, my man." He opened his jacket and let Todd see the white envelope tucked inside the coat pocket. Todd lunged to grab it, the driver hit Todd's face with the back of his hand, the passenger in the back seat grabbed Todd's hair, pulled, and Todd's head smacked the window. "Better chill out, asshole, or get the fuck outta the car."

"I want my fuckin money!" Todd insisted.

The driver turned his head to look into the rearview mirror. "Are you believing this teeny bopper's punk shit?" He asked his partner.

A man in the backseat learned forward. "Son, you're a dead mother fucker unless you shut the fuck up and pay attention."

"We're gonna take you someplace and you're gonna take care of a problem we got," He handed Todd a key. "This key will open the back door, but do not go inside until you hear the phone ring. So you're gonna wait patiently outside till you hear the phone, then you go inside. Find something to use in the kitchen. Is that simple enough?" He said.

" I want my money?" Todd said.

"Who is this Rainman muthafucka we got?" The driver asked.

"Chill out, Reggie. You get your money when you're done with the job; the money will be here waiting for you. We'll wait for you, and if you don't make it back by midnight, we'll assume you fucked up. Got that? And bring some proof."

"Like what?" Todd asked.

"Something convincing. Be creative! Bring back his balls. But whatever you do, don't show up with nuthin but your dick in your hand. Do we understand each other?"

Todd scowled.

"You got any questions?"

"I got it," Todd said.

The pair dropped Todd off along the road, close to the cottage, and drove away. Todd walked up the drive to the house, concealed himself, and waited.

Todd saw a light switch on in the kitchen. He waited. The light switched OFF. In a minute or less he heard sounds in the bathroom, then the sound of water tinkling in the toilet. The toilet flushed, the sink spigot came on. He waited. A tv switched ON.

"Hurry up, asshole!" He thought. He heard footsteps along the hallway, then heard the refrigerator open, then closer. After a few minutes he heard footsteps along the hall again. "I'm gonna kick his ass for making me wait." He brooded and waited. Todd couldn't hear the tv plainly but he heard Jack laugh. "The stupid asshole is watching tv!"

At ten o'clock he heard footsteps along the hall toward the kitchen, then footsteps back toward the... bathroom! Jack went in the bathroom, pulled the curtain open, and started water running. Todd listened for a few minutes until he heard him step into the tub and activate the shower. Then the phone rang. Todd left his hide and went to the back door. The door was locked. He pulled the key from his pocket, pushed it into the lock, and turned it.

Todd turned the doorknob carefully till it stopped, then pulled the knob slowly toward him. "Son of a bitch!" A chain-lock held the door. Todd pushed the door back until it was cracked enough to slip his fingers through and pinch the chain with his fingertips. He eased the stay along the slide to the insertion hole while leaning against the door to make another fraction inch of slack. He pushed against the door, pushed the stay till the chain was taut, and the stay fell out of the hole.

Todd pulled the door open, stepped inside, and hesitated to listen. He heard the shower running and heard Jack talking. Todd moved through the living room to the kitchen, opened some drawers, removed a heavy carving knife, and laid it on the counter top. Then he stopped to listen again; Jack was humming a tune.

Hearing nothing suspicious Todd removed his shoes and clothing until he was naked. Then he coated the blade with margarine and wrapped the handle with a dishtowel, then stuck his head around the refrigerator to check the hallway. The hallway was dark except for the light coming from the bathroom.

Todd inched along the hallway until he came to the bathroom door; he looked in and saw that the water was running and the shower curtain was closed. A bulb was missing from the overhead light bar and the bathroom was dimly lit. Todd smiled and walked into the bathroom, hoisting the knife and changing his grip to better stab and slash.

He stepped to the curtain, grabbed it with his left hand, and jerked it back. The shower and tub were empty, and the pistol shot was loud enough that everyone heard it but Todd. Jack backed away from the bathroom door. Todd collapsed across the tub. When he didn't move, Jack let the shower run till Todd bled out.

At four Carl, the graveyard shift rent-a-cop, aroused from his slumber, checked the clock on the office wall, then looked at the security-cams on the computer; steady rain obscured the view around the building but all appeared quiet and serene. He made notes in the log book, yawned, and slouched back in his chair fighting sleep. Carl was alert enough that the Muzak made another nap impossible; Carl hated Muzak. "Time for a smoke!" He leaned forward, sat straight, and stood, balanced and perfectly still.

Carl, short, paunchy, bald, retired, in his sixties; wearing small, polished shoes; walked across the carpet to the corridor, and turned left to the entry door. At the entry he squared his shoulders, unlocked the door, and stepped outside into the cool, damp, night air; in moments a cigarette glowed faintly in his mouth.

Outside he couldn't see anyone pass in front of the security-cam. But he couldn't see anyway because the orange sodium vapor light reflected off the raindrops, concealing the beyond like a curtain of orange rhinestones. The parking lot was littered with shitty Pampers, empty KFC boxes, full condoms, an assortment of used syringes, and a naked body.

Jack was lying, backside up sunning, on a chaise longue, when Rose appeared. He lifted his head to look at her.

"I hope I'm not assuming too much coming by without a date," she said.

"Sit down," he said.

"You sure?" She asked.

"Relax," he suggested.

"I feel awful that you got dragged in to my problem," she said, reaching over to touch him.

"Shit happens," he said.

"That was my dad's favorite expression," she said.

"What time is it?" He asked.

She glanced at her watch, "Eleven-thirty."

"Let's get something to eat," he suggested.

"I'm not really hungry, but you go ahead," she replied.

Jack rose up and said, "C'mon," and took her hand to cross the beach and climb the dune on the path to the cottage. Then they climbed the stairs to the veranda, where Jack unlocked the door, "After you," he held the door open.

The cottage was built atop concrete columns. The first floor was forty feet by forty feet with a veranda around the entire outside. Inside the first floor included a large great room with a fireplace and cathedral ceiling that used half the floor space. The rest was a kitchen, dining room, and guest bedroom.

The 2nd floor was located above the kitchen, dining room, and guest bedroom. Most of the space was used for the master bedroom, the rest was bathroom and closet area. She followed Jack up the stairs to the bedroom. "Have a seat," he pointed to the bed, and pulled his trunks off. She was surprised by his audacity, but he seemed relaxed and comfortable around her, and she liked what she saw.

Dressed, he asked her, "Where to?"

"I don't care, really," she said, and stood up, her hands locked behind her back, and swaying a little as she made tentative steps toward him. He looked her over. She seemed amused and anxious as his eyes travelled up her body from her shoes, up her legs, then to her dress and breasts, finally to her face. He grinned and she blushed, and he took her hand and pointed her towards the stairs, lightly touching her back with his fingers as they walked.

The Cadillac was parked under the cottage in the space between the columns. Next to it was a 60s Willys-Jeep Wagoneer powered by a 230 cubic inch straight six.

"Can we stop by my place, first?" Rose asked. "I want to collect a few things I'll need to spend time with you. I hope you don't mind a room-mate." She looked at him. He reached over and held her hand and kept watching the road. "You remind me of someone I knew long ago. I felt the same sort of peace and comfort around him that I do with you," and leaned over to kiss him.

"An old boyfriend?" Jack asked.

"The boy next door," she mused.

"What happened to him?" He asked.

"He died," she said.

"Oh, that's too bad," he said.

"I don't know what made me latch on to you so quickly," she said, looking up at him. "When a place or person feels right I don't hesitate. If you don't grab things they tend to slip away." Jack moved her hand to his package. She looked at him and squeezed him. "Aren't you lucky I didn't say, 'get my claws into you'? After lunch we need to buy some groceries."

Jack gave Rose the keys to the Caddy and a fist-fulla fifties to go shopping, and elected to stretch-out on her sofa for a nap till she returned. Later Melissa came in, went to her bedroom, and came out to the living room where she untied the belt of her terrycloth robe, pulled it off her arms, and dropped it on the floor close to Jack. Beneath the robe she wore matching Booty Camp boy shorts and tank top. Jack opened his eyes and watched her.

"In all the excitement I never thought to thank you for what you did the other day," she said, pulling the top over her head.

"Your mom just pulled up," Jack said. "How about a rain-check?"

Melissa walked over to the sofa, kissed Jack, and fled to her bedroom.

TO BE CONTINUED