Two Wrongs Don’t Make It

The white cargo van, dinged and dented by ten years of service, slowly eased into the mega-apartment parking lot near the largest college campus in Little Rock. The driver selected the parking space which strategically provided a view of the apartment fronts and parking spaces but was shaded from the parking lot lights by branches from a venerable oak tree. At 10 PM, the night clouds had begun their descent to earth and most people were inside for the night.

In his late thirties, the driver was still handsome but as shop worn as his van. The last jail description put him at 6 feet tall and 238 lbs., brown hair and brown eyes. Phil wore his hair in a flat top, crew cut. His career as an itinerant auto mechanic demanded that he be physically fit. After parking, Phil rolled down the van windows and sat on a lawn chair inside the cargo area and fired up a cigarette.

He had followed her several times and knew that she would soon come home from her job as afternoon shift, store manager. She was beautiful to him, the type of classy girl who did not go for greasy mechanics, even when they were cleaned up. He guessed she was 22 to 24. She was tall, about 5' 8" and normal weight; not athletic but not flabby, either. She wore her long brown hair straight past the middle of her back. He did not know her name. He never knew their names, unless he saw their pictures on cable news later.

His mind had constructed lots of scenes with her: What she would look like with her long straight hair just barely covering her breasts. What those breasts would look like and feel like as his hands squeezed. What those long legs would look like if she wore only a black bikini bottom. How soft her butt would feel to his face and hands as he circled her butt cheeks and reached around to run his fingers through the thick hair of her bush. How soft those thighs would be when he spread them. Her wet aroma. How her wet pussy would surround and suck his cock into her. How deep he would thrust. How she cried out in pleasure. How she cried in mortal terror. His penis was fully erect. He licked his dry lips. He popped open a beer.

There was more to this; he had been to this circus many times before. There was location and disposal. Phil would park his van on a hillside fire trail, just outside something like a state recreational park. They would walk down an easy embankment to a small clearing. Afterwards, he would roll the body down the steep embankment, where the autumn leaves would cover it up and animals would dispose of the remains. The descent was too steep to willingly hike and too high up from the flowing creek below.

He met chicks in bars and elsewhere and got it on with them, like a regular man. Few men have seen either the look of terror in the eyes of a bound and tormented woman or the look of resigned desperation, when she knows she's dying. It is a different kind of sex, where physical arousal is not required. It's more powerful and more addicting.

In Phil's mind, it was the classy girls, like this one. The first night he observed her, she dressed in a light linen jacket, light, buttoned blouse, navy blue pencil skirt, pumps, and accessories to go out on the town. This was the woman he had to have. Phil had been in town three months and he ached to do a girl like this again. His van was packed tonight and he would not return.

Her car nosed into the parking space. In the fog shrouded, dim light, Phil could see her long brown hair and retail uniform. She was shapely, pretty, and walked with confidence. She unlocked the door and went inside. The wheel was turning.

Phyllis unlocked the door and entered meekly. Her sister, Louise, looked at her and turned away.

"Hi Lou," said Phyllis. "How are you?"

"What do you think? I'm still furious. How could you, Phyl?"

"I said I was sorry. I didn't mean it. The doctor says I'm sick."

"That's a load of crap and you know it," Louise responded. "This pain in my chest is killing me." She turned her head slightly, "I know I said mean things; will you still be my bride's maid this Saturday?"

"Yes, Lou," Phyl answered contritely.

"I haven't told anyone. The parents are expecting it," said Louise looking at Phyl with disgust. "I don't know. I just don't know. Ben and Ron? Ben. How am I to trust Ben after this? I can see you fucking Ron; he's a hunk. But my fiancé Ben?"

"I told you I'm sorry. I can't do anything to change the past. The doctor says I'm a sex addict. My brain starts undressing every mateable man I see. I can't control it. That's why I'm going away for therapy in two months."

"That's a lot of crap. Let's not talk about it any more, okay?"

"Okay," said Phyl gathering a change of wardrobe, "but you said that this morning, too. Besides, you've been to therapy." Phyl turned away, "Look Lou, I'm going out. I think it's better for us."

Phyllis entered the bathroom and removed her clothes. She put on a sexy pair of black panties and then covered her body with tingly baby powder. Next, she put on a low cut, black bra, which pushed the girls up and together. After donning fresh socks, Phyllis struggled to pull up a tight pair of jeans, which displayed faded seat and thighs. She put on a tightly fitting, country style, long sleeve shirt and she left the top buttons unfastened to show off her charms. Phyllis generously sprayed perfume and fussed with her hair. Lastly, she slipped on cowboy boots and perfectly positioned her cowboy hat, with the sides curled up.

Leaving the bathroom and tossing her worn clothes aside, Phyllis looked to Louise for approval. Louise's expression said it all, "Tramp."

Phyllis answered her look, verbally, "I'm going out to get laid. Maybe I'll get fed first." Louise remained speechless. Phyllis locked the door behind her and headed into settling fog of the parking lot. She did not notice the white van parked next to her car with the cargo door adjacent to her driver's door.

In the dim light, Phyllis searched the wad of keys when Phil silently approached from around the front of his van. "Hello," he said. Phyllis jumped a half step back and gasped for breath. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," Phil smiled. His brain whirled in the conflict of anticipation and disappointment. This was not the classy girl he expected. This was a slut. This was the same girl but her looks are all wrong. What to do?

"You were so quiet," she replied and then she smiled. "Are you new here? I haven't seen you before."

Phil stepped closer, to within two feet, and replied. "No, I'm camping out. My apartment was foreclosed. They ordered me out. I was gonna leave in a few days anyway."

"Damned luck. Oh, I'm Phyllis; Phyl for short."

"That's funny; I'm Phillip but no one calls me that. It's always Phil. Phil and Phyl. Where you heading, if I may ask?"

"I was heading out to get dinner and perhaps stop off for a drink or two. I just got off of work."

"Well then, can I buy the lady a drink?"

"You sure can, Phil. Do you mind if we take both cars? I'd feel safer."

After dinner and too many drinks, they returned to the parking spaces where their chance meeting began. "I'd invite you to stay here tonight but my sister's here with me. It's a small studio apartment." She studied his face and continued, "Although I hate to think you're sleeping in that van." He seemed all right. "Do you mind sleeping on the couch?"

"Phyl, I'd much rather sleep with you," with that he bent to kiss her. She eagerly opened her mouth and he ran one hand along the cheek of her face and the other hand along her butt cheek. She bent into him and embraced him.

When they broke off the kiss, Phyl said, "I hoped you'd say that. Actually, you were feeling me up in the bar so much my panties are soaked. I'll ask Louise to sleep on the couch. She's getting married on Saturday and we both have the day off tomorrow."

Inside the small studio apartment, Phyl bent over her sleeping sister and said gently, "Lou. Lou, get up. Please sleep on the couch for me. Please Lou."

"Go away Phyl," answered the still sleeping Louise and she rolled over.

"Hey!" Phil barked, "Get up. To the couch, now!" He snapped the covers off of Lou, grabbed her arms, and yanked her onto the floor as easily as pushing a bag of potatoes from tabletop to floor.

"Fuck you!"

"She said 'get up'," Phil retorted.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Lou," begged Phyl. "This is Phil. We've had a lot to drink and I told him he could stay here tonight."

Now wide awake, Louise looked about from the floor; Phil stared at her with the look of murder in his eyes. Not daring to challenge this menace, Lou stood up and walked to the linen closet to obtain a new sheet and take the extra pillow. With eyes seething, Louise just said contritely, "It's your place, Phil." Blinking back the tears she gathered her car keys and walked out the apartment door.

Louise bedded down in the back of her Ford Mustang. The seat was lumpy and very cramped. A swirling tornado of angry emotions commanded her thoughts, creating a score of scenarios designed to remove Phil from the world of the living. Most of the plans employed the .25 caliber pistol locked in her glove compartment. Dad had armed each of his daughters and trained them to shoot accurately, but only in self-defense. When Louise was able to momentarily quell her brain, she heard every night sound, all night long. Suddenly, she woke up to the bright sun. She was soaked in sweat.

Louise opened the apartment door and saw her sister dressing for her pre-wedding errands. Phil appeared asleep. "How long is he staying?" she asked.

"Well?" replied Phyl.

"I'll get dressed and leave you two alone. I'm going to the parents."

"I'm sorry, Lou."

When Louise left the bathroom, Phil gathered some clothes, with one eye always on the cable news. "Sorry about this morning Lou. I had a little too much to drink, I guess." She avoided looking at him as she threw her clothes into a pillow case. He produced a medicine vial. "Here, a peace offering. Have a Roxi or two to take the edge off. Phyl told me about your rehab."

Louise glared at both Phyl for broadcasting her previous addiction and at Phil for tempting her. Lou quickly departed. Phil discarded his clothes, flashed his lady killer smile, and pulled Phyl into bed with him. After sex, Phyl showered and they went to a nearby diner for pancakes.

When they returned, Phil switched on the cable news and he became completely focused on the story of a missing, former local Little Rock girl, attending college in Colorado.

"I've got to go get my hair done for the wedding tomorrow, hon," said Phyl. Phil did not answer but remained riveted to the story.

The on-site reporter read her story to the camera, "Police have not confirmed that the body found in the woods near Colorado State University is the body of the Little Rock college senior reported missing three months ago. The witness who found her said she severely was nude and badly decayed."

"Oh? She was my age," remarked Phyl. "What bastard would do a thing like that?"

When the piece ended Phil snapped off the set with the controller. "Maybe she deserved it; did you ever think of that?"

"Are you serious?"

"Men kill other men for drug deals. Why not women?"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Phil's quick temper flared. "Look at this place. It's a goddamned mess. Clean up this place now." His face turned white and his eyes focused on Phyllis.

"No way. I've got to get my hair done and pick up my dress. If it bothers you, you clean it up. Otherwise, it'll wait."

Phil got up and immediately slapped Phyl's face, knocking her to her side. She burst into tears. He paused. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Phyl. I don't know what came over me. Come here and hug me."

"No, I'm leaving now. You be gone when I return or I'll bring the police, you bastard!" With tears streaming, Phyl collected her purse and makeup case and slammed the front door.

Alone in the apartment, Phil snooped for money and anything of value. He became fascinated with a new device. Phil mounted the cam corder on a tripod and recorded himself sitting on the chair before the television, occasionally mugging for the camera. Two hours after Phyllis departed, Louise knocked on the door. Phil opened the door with a silly grin.

"I apologize about being rude to you, Phil. May I come in?"

Phil widened the door and stepped aside. "Change your mind about me? What some of that sweet loving your sister's getting before you're a married woman?"

Once inside she answered, "Oh, please! I'd like to buy some Roxi's. Are they 30 mg strength?"

"Yes, they are. They're primo. How many did you want?"

"Six. How much?"

"I thought you went to rehab for Roxi's? Are you sure you want to start again?" he grinned wickedly.

"I need something to get me through this wedding fiasco. Just six will do. How much?"

"Well Lou, considering how rude you were, I want you to come over here and kneel on the carpet and apologize and I will give you six Roxi's without charge, okay?"

She looked suspiciously at Phil but proceeded to kneel in the designated area. "Okay. I ask for your forgiveness."

"No, a sincere apology. Close your eyes and put both hands out, palms up." She did as she was told. He deposited six pills into her right hand. "I said 'without charge'. I didn't say they were free. There's some little thing you can do for me. Keep your eyes closed. You can put the pills down. Give me a long apology and you'll know what to do." Louise began a rambling, insincere apology. Phil slid both thumbs down his sides, just under the waistband of his underpants and slid his pants down to his feet. He moved to stand just before Louise and positioned his extended penis just before her moving lips. He took her free left hand and guided it to grip his shaft and eased his penis head into her babbling lips.

Around dinner time Phyl entered the parking lot and was dismayed to see Phil's van parked in the same position. Call the police or deal with it herself? The police were always a hassle. She steeled herself for more confrontation and she opened the apartment door. Phyllis was immediately struck by how neat and orderly her apartment was and a bouquet of red roses on her dining table. Phil sat watching cable news and immediately stood to greet her with his lady killer smile. He was clean shaven and dressed well. "Welcome back Phyl. I missed you. I am so sorry about before. I apologize." He kissed her lightly as she surveyed the room.

"What's this about?" She put her dead cell phone on the charger.

"I decided to take you to an expensive restaurant. You look magnificent. The best I've ever seen you."

"Yeah? Well, I have a rehearsal and rehearsal dinner in two hours."

"Yeah? Maybe you should see what your sister is up to behind your back." Phil began the video from the cued position. Phyl moved in closer to see the images. Phil narrated, "Here, Lou comes in to see me. She wants a handful of Roxi's and doesn't have any money. This is how she proposes to pay me off. Sorry, but I'm only a man." Phyl buckled over and burst into tears. Phil quickly switched off the cam corder.

"God damn! God damn. How could she?" Phyllis cried long and hard. Finally she pulled herself together. "She's trying to get back at me, that's it. I'm finished with her. She can have her wedding and rehearsal without me."

"I'm so sorry that you had to see that," consoled Phil. "I was just being honest. Get dressed and I'll take you to a wonderful steakhouse downtown. You do like steak? Here, as a special favor to me, please wear these clothes that I have set out for you. Please?" He bent to kiss her forehead and wipe away the tears.

"These clothes? These clothes are for a job interview."

"Please do it for me, hon. If you don't mind. Hurry, get in the shower, now."

"Okay." Phyl turned and went into the bathroom and shut the door. Phil was very pleased.

Phyl came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body and one on her head. She fussed with her hair some more. Phil pretended to watch the tube but studied her every move. "May I ask a favor as you get dressed?"

"Okay, what is it?"

"It's a little kinky. Toss the towel away and stand up straight," he began. Phyl stood nude at attention. Phil surveyed her as if taking mental pictures. "Now put on your panties." Phyllis picked the black panties and put them on. After a pause, "Now your bra, please." Silently and obediently, Phyl put on her bra. "Now turn completely around, please." Phyl rotated on her feet. "You look so beautiful I could just eat you," he said with a grin. "I can see why you have so many men friends. Now put on your stockings."

"Phil, this feels so creepy but my panties are already wet. Why don't we just forget going out?" She smiled her best charming smile. "Why don't you just go for it right here and now, cowboy?"

"No, this is like a little fantasy thing for me. No harm," he replied. He ordered her to put on skirt, blouse, pumps, and jacket.

"Did you pick out jewelry or can I do that?" she asked.

"Go ahead and wear whatever you like, Phyl," he replied. She rummaged about for some jewelry. Phil stood by the front door with a sincere, ear to ear smile. His plans were at last coming together again.

"You look so beautiful and classy. I promise this will be a night we both will remember for always. Lock up. I'm going to start up the van and get the air conditioning cooling," he said.

Louise called and texted Phyllis for the umpteenth time without a response. The rehearsal would begin soon. "I've got just enough time to drive over there and back," Louise announced to her parents. "Please stay here with the guests." As she rode the elevator down, Louise perused the news sites on her iphone. The story of the local girl missing girl in Colorado had a new startling update. Police had identified "a person of interest". Displayed was Phil's picture.

Louise called the police who agreed to meet her at the front of the apartment complex. Driving as fast as she could, Lou arrived before Phyl's apartment in time to see Phil and Phyl walk toward his van.

"Stop! Stop! Don't get in his car, Phyl, Louise screamed. "He's a killer. Run!"

"You bitch! I saw what you did with Phil. It's all on camera. You're not my sister. Fuck you and your wedding." Phil and Phyl got into the van and drove off. Lou burst into tears and blew the horn in a continuous stream of annoying sound. She pounded the steering wheel until her hand hurt. What had she done? What had happened? Where were the cops? She sat there immobilized with fear and self-loathing.

Eventually, the tapping on the car window broke her lethargy. A big, athletic man was dressed in a natty suit asked, "Are you the woman who called with information about a person of interest?"

Lou burst into another round of tears. "I'm sorry. He just drove off with my sister. I tried to warn her but she hates me."

The cop stuck Phil's picture in her face. "Is this the man with your sister?"

"Yes. Where were you? Why didn't you stop him?"

"Park your car and come with me. Get a grip, lady. This man is a cold blooded killer."

After Lou parked her car, she got into the back of the unmarked unit with a new resolve. "They went straight ahead out the entrance. Oh, that's why you didn't see them. We use the back entrance all the time and not the front entrance. He's driving a white service van."