Zeke (17 page)

“Damn straight,” the trucker said.
“Nice and cozy.”

“Remember what I told you, Ernie,”
Zeke said. “Lots of tongue to get her in the mood.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ernie licked his lips,
and yanked his pants down.

Sue looked at his eager face and
was put off by his squinty eyes, sausage nose, and crowded teeth. The thrill
she had felt earlier was gone, replaced by resignation. Zeke wanted her to do
this, and she wanted to please Zeke. She mentally shrugged her shoulders; she
supposed it could be worse.

“Take off your pants, honey,” Zeke
encouraged her softly as he readied his camera. “Get on back there with Ernie
now.”

Sue listlessly slipped off her
shoes and removed her jeans. She squeezed past Zeke into the sleeper with
Ernie. His truck was nice, but there wasn’t a lot of room. She leaned back on
the mattress, aware of Zeke taking pictures. Light tingles spread slowly between
her legs; she could admit to herself she liked being looked at. There was
nothing wrong with that.

Ernie leaned over and studied her.

“This is good,” he said, mostly to
himself. “You’re prime, little lady, prime.” Without further preamble, Ernie buried
his face between her legs and she closed her eyes. She pretended it was Zeke.
The man was surprisingly talented and in spite of her reluctance, her
traitorous body began to respond. At the same time, she also was mildly
disgusted. Disgusted with herself and with Ernie. But most of all, with Zeke.
She opened her eyes and gazed at Zeke with his camera.

Sue tried to ignore what was
happening, but Ernie was intent on pleasuring her, and he was succeeding.

With a grunt, Ernie heaved his
heavy body upward and crawled on top of her.

Sue turned her head to the side to
avoid his kiss. He smelled of coffee, fabric softener, and Old Spice cologne.
Somewhere along the way, her body betrayed her and she had an orgasm. She hoped
neither Zeke nor Ernie could tell.

“By god, that was good,” the
trucker exclaimed afterward. “You’re a peach of a gal. A real peach.”

Ernie turned away from her, picked
up his pants, and pulled a thick wallet from the pocket. Extracting some bills,
he folded them and handed them to Zeke. “I threw a little extry in there,”
Ernie said generously. “Best I’ve had in years.”

Sue watched this transaction with
revulsion. She had just been pimped out, sold. Sue turned to her side and
quietly vomited into the pillow; neither man noticed.

Zeke put his camera back into the
case. “Let’s go now, Sue. We got to get back on the road.”

Sue moved up front but didn’t slip
into her jeans and shoes. She wanted out and fumbled with the door. Ernie had
to reach over and open it for her. The three of them crowded into that small
space made her feel claustrophobic and panicky. She stumbled down from the cab
and landed hard on the cold ground before jumping to her feet and running half
naked back to the van. Zeke stayed inside another minute and she heard the
men’s muffled laughter before she closed the door behind her, shutting out the
sound. Once inside, Sue dressed quickly and wrapped her arms around herself.
She felt ashamed and dirty. What would her parents think if they could see her
now? She was nothing but a prostitute, a dirty whore. She began to weep softly.

The door opened and Zeke got in. He
turned the key and opened the heater vents. “That was the most awesome thing
I’ve ever seen!” He was exuberant, oblivious to her misery. “You ought to see
the pictures I got, honey. Holy shit, they’re hot.”

Sue huddled silently in her seat.

Her distress finally registered
with him. “Oh, baby. Now, don’t cry. You made that man’s day. His life. You
made his entire life. And I witnessed it. Oh, Susie, you’re the best! You make
me so proud.”

She sniffed loudly, and he gave her
a sharp look.

“What’s wrong? If you keep acting
like that, you’re going to spoil the moment.” Zeke frowned. “Aw, come on. Come
here.”

He reached for her, but she pulled
back. “I just can’t get it out of my mind. What would my mom and dad think if
they could see me now?” The shame rolled over her in waves.

“You might find this hard to
believe,” Zeke said, “but I think your dad would be proud. And maybe even a
little jealous of ole Ernie. He’d probably wish it was him back there in that
semi.”

“Stop talking about my dad that
way,” Sue croaked. “That’s just sick.”

“Sorry,” Zeke said. “But, Sue, you
should be proud of yourself; you’re like a Venus. A beautiful, sensuous woman.
Oh, honey, I’ve never been so proud, watching you perform. It was
breathtaking.”

“Well, I feel like a total skank,”
she said in a small voice.

“You’re no such thing,” Zeke
protested. “You’re a liberated woman, enjoying your sexuality. You have a right
to do that, you know. You have every right to exercise your sexual freedom.
It’s normal. Perfectly natural and healthy. Your body was designed for
pleasure. Engineered for it. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have responded. And it did
respond, Sue. You liked it, didn’t you? What Ernie was doing? I could tell. It
was nice, wasn’t it?”

He wanted her to say yes; she could
feel it.

“Maybe a little,” she mumbled.
Privately, she recalled the experience with feelings of loathing. “But, Zeke,
he paid to use me. What does that make me?”

“That money doesn’t mean anything.
Ernie just wanted to give something back, that’s all. Just a little gift for
the way you blew his mind,” Zeke continued. “It made him feel good to give us
some money. It’s not like you think.”

Sue was quiet, but his words were
working on her.

“I know what you need,” Zeke said.
“Let’s get in the back.”

Sue sighed and made her way to the
back of the van. Zeke followed her. He pushed their stuff out of the way and
laid her down on the mattress.

“He was just a proxy for me, a
stand-in. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me touching you, but with
someone else’s hands, that’s all. It’s all good, Susie Q. Let’s just make love,
right this minute, and it’ll erase that whole thing. It’ll be like magically
undoing it. Oh, man, I want you so bad, I can hardly stand it. You got me so
hot, Susie. I mean it, baby. I love you so much right now I think my heart is
going to explode.” Zeke was all over her, hands everywhere. She liked it when
he was mushy and sentimental for her. It didn’t take long for Zeke to work his
magic.

They Went That-a-Way

Will walked across the hall to his
partner’s office. Roxie Barnes was leaning over, checking the leaves of her
potted plant and giving him a nice view of her healthy backside. He took in the
sight for a moment, enjoying the vision before announcing his presence. Will
liked Roxie. But office romances never worked out so he kept his thoughts to
himself.

“I need to run something past you;
it’s about the Cox case.” Startled, she turned surprised eyes on Will. Roxie
was short, compact, and prone to chubbiness, a condition she alternately fought
with salad binges and indulged with fudge brownies á la mode. She favored
jewel-toned clothes in comfortable styles, professional looking yet easy to
move in. With her red hair and porcelain skin, she looked enough like Will that
they had sometimes been mistaken for siblings, but Will was glad they weren’t.

When Roxie had been studying for
her license, Will was her mentor. They got along well, and becoming partners
was a natural move for them.

Roxie dusted her hands over the
wastebasket and sat down behind her desk. Will took a chair on the other side.

“At first, I thought her parents
were just being neurotic. I mean, the girl hadn’t even been gone a whole day,
and they’re already hiring me to look for her?” He shook his head. “But now I’m
not so sure. Too many odd things about this case.”

“That’s true. Just the way she left
is weird. Abandoning the car, writing a note instead of just telling her
parents she’s leaving, and going off with someone who’s using a dead guy’s
identity.”

“Exactly. That and sneaking around
to hide the relationship. Why was that necessary?”

“Maybe you’ll find the answers.”

“I hope so.”

He outlined his plan of action,
encouraged by her occasional nod or “Mmm-hmm.” She played with the calculator
for a few seconds.

“We’re not going to make much on
this one, are we?” she said, after some consideration.

“It depends on how fast I find
her…but probably not.”

“
If
you find her. Foolish
girl, running off like she did.” She sighed. “Oh, well. And at least we’ve got
the Morris Industries case. That’ll keep us afloat in the meantime. Let’s grab
a map and move to the conference room.”

Roxie calculated how far a person
could hope to get in two days of hard driving. Will drew a radius on the map.

“I just wish I knew which direction
they went,” he said. “I’d leave today if I knew that.”

“I suggest we canvass all the gas
stations in town, starting with the ones on the edges,” Roxie said. “I’ll call
Melvin and get him to help out.”

Melvin was the college student they
employed occasionally to help with footwork. He was seeking a degree in
criminal justice and loved the job, even the dull clerical chores and errands.
A tireless worker, his help had been invaluable many times in the past couple
of years.

A short time later, a very agitated
Melvin contacted Will on his cell phone and gave them their first real break on
the Cox girl. He asked Will to meet him at the Snack Shack, a convenience store
on the south side of town.

“I found a clerk who remembers
them,” he wheezed, excitement activating his asthma.

“Okay, Melvin.” Will grinned. “Take
a few puffs off your inhaler and calm down. I’ll be there in about ten
minutes.”

The clerk did indeed remember the
couple. They had paid cash for a fill-up around ten o’clock the morning Sue
disappeared. Several things stood out for the clerk. The first aspect of the
encounter was the color of the man’s hair, jet black, unnatural looking. “I
just figured he was emo or metal, you know.”

The second thing that caught his
attention was the fact that the guy was a famous reporter from New York. He had
asked the clerk if he knew of any abandoned buildings or houses in the area. He
had bragged that he and his wife were photojournalists who tracked down
derelict structures and did photo layouts, with a focus on urban decay. But,
he’d said they would consider rural sites also. Finder fees were available if
they could use the site for a story. Unfortunately, the employee had no information
on abandoned buildings.

“Did you get a look at their
vehicle?” Will asked.

“Sure did. It was a van,” the young
man answered, pleased with himself.

“Okay,” Will said slowly. “Make and
model? Color?”

“Older, dark color, tinted windows in
the back. That’s all I remember. Man, I see a thousand cars a day.”

Will doubted that. “Could you
venture a guess as to what dark color it was?”

“Maybe blue, or green. Definitely
not red, unless it was maroon. Yeah, it might have been a dark maroon. Or
possibly brown. Not tan. Darker. Definitely not black, though. I’m sure of
that.”

Will’s patience was usually
endless, but today it was in strangely short supply. He struggled to keep the
irritation out of his voice.

“Do you remember anything else
about them?” Melvin crowded in.

“Just that the girl was quiet.
Didn’t say a thing the whole time. But it was her that paid.”

“Did you see which way they went
when they left here?”

“Oh, sure. You can only go two
ways, and they headed away from town.”

Will thanked him and left the store
with Melvin.

“Melvin, my boy,” Will said once
they were outside. “Remind me to give you a raise.”

“You mean you’re gonna start paying
me?” Melvin asked innocently.

Will slapped him on the back. “Very
funny.”

Skirts and Dresses

In the next town, Zeke pulled into
a Salvation Army store parking lot and turned off the ignition. He turned to
face Sue.

She tugged at her uneven hair and
peeked into the visor’s mirror, still unused to the feel of the short cut.
After dying her hair, she hardly recognized herself. Her hair was now a flaming
red, shining like foil, an unnatural shade somewhere between burgundy and
fifties lipstick. The pale face staring back at her, topped by uneven bangs,
chopped shaggy cut, and slap-in-the-face color, seemed that of a stranger.
“What are we doing here?” Sue asked.

“We’re going to buy you some
skirts.”

“Skirts? Oh, no.” Sue reacted with
dismay. “I don’t wear dresses, Zeke. It’s just not my style.”

“Why not?” His eyes were chips of
blue ice.

“I just don’t.” A knot of pain
lodged in her throat and tears threatened. His words had resurrected another
demon from her past, an excruciating memory.

When Sue was a child, she’d
idolized her Aunt Ginger, a vivacious bleached-blonde with big white teeth, a
wide mouth, and a strident voice. Ginger always wore cherry red lipstick, dark
mascara, and painted a fake mole on her cheek. A pert nose and bright green
eyes rounded off her face. She slung her voluptuous figure around with the
freewheeling stroll of a vaudeville stripper. She even painted her toenails.
She was outrageous, fun loving, brassy, and adored by men.

Ginger usually showed up at family
functions with her friend, Marge, a slender rail of a woman with long dark
hair, who wore peasant skirts and sandals, and talked endlessly of crystals,
Tarot readings, and herbal remedies. They made an odd pair, but were close as
two fingers on a hand. Sue’s dad affectionately referred to them as The Party
Girls.

Sue remembered when they arrived
for a visit one Saturday afternoon when she was still young. Sue’s mother
settled them at the kitchen table, then ran outside to pull the clothes off the
line before joining them. As usual, Sue was excluded from the grown-up talk and
had been sent to her room to play. However, she lingered near the kitchen door,
peeking from behind the buffet in the dining room, hoping to listen in on the
adult conversations she always found so fascinating.