Blood Red (9 page)

“He seemed to be doing just fine this morning, but as soon as the kids went out for recess he just dropped like a stone. I was afraid he’d been stung at first, but I didn’t see any evidence of it.”

“I don’t think he’s allergic anyway.” She tried to think back to any allergies at all, but Teddy was a strong little kid, and there was nothing to remember.

“Well, he seems to be doing better now, but it might be best if he took the rest of the day to rest. If he’s bad in the morning, it might be time to see a doctor. You never can trust the flu season to wait.”

She thanked the woman for her time and bit her tongue on the patronizing tones the nurse employed, and then took Teddy with her toward the parking lot outside.

They hadn’t made seven steps out the door before Teddy grew pastier than ever and swooned. Kelli was strong enough to carry him the rest of the way to her car. She tucked him into the passenger’s seat and drove as calmly as she could.

He was sweating rivers of perspiration and she almost took him directly to the hospital, but decided to check with his parents first.

The new neighbor was outside, gardening of all things, when she pulled into the long driveway of the Lister house. Jason Soulis looked her way as she tried to lift Teddy’s dead weight from the car, and then moved in her direction.

He moved across the street without bothering to look in either direction, and was by her side long before she could finally pull Teddy from the side door. Without bothering to ask her, he gently urged her aside and swept the boy into his arms.

Soulis moved with her, asking her to open the door of the house and she did, gesturing for him to go ahead inside. He carried Teddy into the living room and placed him on the couch.

“Have you called a physician yet?” His tone was calm, but almost completely professional.

“No, it just happened.”

“Perhaps you should do so now.”

He opened Teddy’s shirt and began rubbing his palms over her charge’s chest. Then lowered his head and placed his ear against the pale adolescent skin, listening.

“His pulse is strong, but erratic. It’s possible he was bitten by something or ate the wrong foods. I would guess he’s having an allergic reaction.”

She dialed William Lister’s office number and got him on the first ring.

“This is Bill Lister, what can I do for you?”

“Bill? This is Kelli. Teddy got sick at school and he’s not doing well. I didn’t want to take him to the doctor without checking in with you first.”

Soulis had removed Teddy’s shirt and was now working on his shoes and his pants. He showed little emotion, save for a small expression of concern. She was tempted to question his motives, but his approach was clinical.

“Is he all right now?”

“Well he’s really weak and the new neighbor, Mr. Soulis, helped me get him inside. He thinks it might be an allergic reaction to something.”

“Oh, Kelli. We trust you. If you think he needs to be at the doctor’s, go.” He paused for a moment. “But please, call me as soon as you know anything. I’d be on my way to there right now, but I’m due in court in less than fifteen minutes.”

“All right, Bill. Should I call Michelle?”

“I’ll take care of it, Kelli. You just get Teddy squared away, okay?”

She looked over at Teddy, where Soulis was rubbing his extremities as if to warm them. “Okay, I’ll let you know when we get there.”

She hung up the phone and Soulis looked at her. “I think an ambulance might be a better way to go, Miss.” He pointed to an angry red mark on Teddy’s leg. “It would seem your friend has been bitten by something.”

Teddy’s head rolled to the side, and a small moan crept past his pasty lips. Kelli dialed 911.

Tom Pardue woke up just after noon and glared at the sunlight pouring through his opened curtains. He could have sworn he’d closed them the night before. Then again, there’d been a girl in his bed the night before, too.

He sat up and looked around his bedroom. Clothes were scattered around the floor, his cast-offs from last night, but no one else’s things were there.

“Stupid bitch.” He’d been thinking of going at Liz a second time. She was good in the sack. Also, she made the sweetest sounds when she was crying. He liked a girl that could cry for him.

Just thinking about it got him in the mood, and he climbed from his bed, annoyed all over again that she wasn’t there.

He walked from the bedroom into the hallway, and stopped for a moment to listen. A small noise from the kitchen caught his attention and Tom nodded as a smile slipped across his lips.

He walked the rest of the way on his toes, and as quietly as he could manage. He had a feeling that Liz was about to make his whole day better.

The kitchen was big; it was one of the things he liked about the house. There was an island in the center, complete with a chopping block, and several stainless steel countertops ran along the entire wall of the room. Most of Tom’s food was delivery, but he liked the appearance of a professional kitchen for those rare occasions when he had something catered. It didn’t happen often, but now and then he had get-togethers for his more prestigious clientele.

Mostly it was for show, but it was also a great place to sit and relax. It was also one of the first places a lot of the girls looked if they were trying to find out where he hid his dope.

Liz might be making him breakfast, or she might be trying to steal his stash. The former would get her a few brownie points. The latter would take care of his desire to hear her cry again.

Liz Montclair was a good-looking girl; she was cheer-leader material, with lustrous sandy hair and wide hazel eyes. She also had a mouth that was beyond generous. Like most of his hookers, she was a college student. He liked to get the girls young, before the shit they went through on the streets could make them look older than their years. Liz was already starting to show the signs of her bad habits. She was starting to get a little too hooked on the heavier shit. Her weight was going down and she was going to lose her looks if he didn’t make her curb her taste for partying.

That, or he could just find a few more whores.

He watched her as she carefully moved from cupboard to cupboard; searching the various containers for where he might have hidden what she was looking for.

He waited patiently, knowing full well that she was getting closer to being in deep trouble. It only took her four more minutes to find the stash, and by then she was so desperate that she wasn’t even paying attention.

He waited until her hand was deep inside the container of rice before he stepped all the way into the room. She was on her hands and knees, her face focused solely on the contents of the container.

He waited for the look of triumph when she found the baggie inside and then cleared his throat. Liz started, shocked by the sudden sound, and dropped the canister of rice. It rolled twice, spilling easily a pound of grain across the hardwood floor.

“You having fun there, Lizzie?” He walked closer, looking at the mess she’d made, his eyes taking their time in reaching the shocked and frightened features on her face. She was a pretty girl, with the sort of face that every guy would love to take home to meet the folks. She also looked so damned sexy when she was afraid.

“Tom!” Her voice broke and she stuttered. “I was just going to make you breakfast in bed!”

“I’m sure you were.” He walked closer until he was looming above her. Liz looked up, her bottom lip trembling and her eyes already starting to tear. “Lizzie? Honey? We seem to have a problem here.”

“I was just . . . I was gonna pay you, but I need a fix.”

“Of course you do.” He reached out with his hands and pulled the baggie from her fingers. He tore the package open and threw the contents in her face, watching her as she coughed uncontrollably, her face going red from the violence of her fit. “Help yourself, honey. It’s nice and pure.”

And it was, too; Tom doubted there was a better source anywhere for powdered sugar. Liz’s lungs tried to compensate for the inhaled confection; it wasn’t working out. She kept coughing for almost a minute, and when she was finished, she stared at the floor, her lips licking at the white powder on her face.

“What is that?” She wiped at her face, smearing white paste across her features and wiping a few spots of moisture away.

“Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to leave anything like that lying around my house?” Tom reached out and grabbed a thick handful of her sandy blond hair. “Time for you to learn a few lessons, Lizzie.”

She started crying, her eyes grew wide and her hands reached up to stop him from pulling as hard as he was. He repressed a shiver of lust. First the discipline, then the sex. He had to make sure she understood who was boss, and then he’d demonstrate his affections.

Tom hauled back on her hair as hard as he could, and Lizzie wailed out in pain as her hair separated from her scalp. He knew she was going to be feeling that for a few days, oh yes, and he knew she’d be feeling a lot worse before it was done.

His knee slammed into her taut belly and doubled her over. To make sure she was really, really getting his point, he struck her there again as she coughed and dry heaved.

By the time she was done retching, he was sporting an erection. “Never try to steal from me, Lizzie. And never try to just borrow something of mine without asking. I let you off with a warning last night. I told you if you stole from me, we would have to work things out.”

Liz nodded her pretty head, the tears still flowing from her eyes, though she no longer had the strength to actually cry. He walked into the living room for a moment and reached into his very small stash, the one he’d taped to the inside of the closet, far from where people would be able to see it with a casual glance.

When he returned to the kitchen, Liz was back on her hands and knees, and trying to sweep up the crap all over the floor with her hands. She was hyperventilating, her chest hitching at high speed, sucking in air without really getting much relief for her lack of breath. It did lovely things to her perky little tits.

He dropped the nickel bag on top of the rice and watched her pick it up. Liz looked at him with wide, desperate eyes, asking for his permission. He nodded and she attacked. When she was done, she had white along her nostrils that was a slightly different color than the trail left by the confectioner’s sugar.

He could see when the coke hit her system. Her body relaxed and she almost managed a smile.

He was pretty sure she was about to say thanks to him when he tackled her and started tearing the clothes from her body.

She wasn’t even considering the idea of thanking him before he was done. Now and then a girl got uppity and he was forced to put her back in her place. Liz had broken the rules twice in one day. For that reason, he got inventive.

When he was finished and she was pinned under him, he leaned in close and licked her earlobe. Liz twitched, but couldn’t possibly get away from him. Then he withdrew from her, his erection fading as he rolled off of her sweet little body.

Tom leaned over and winked at her crying face. “Bet you didn’t even know you were still a virgin anywhere, did you, Lizzie?”

She shook her head and started crying again.

Tom ran his hand over the side of her face, leaving streaks in her white sugar makeup. “You remember something, Liz. I choose your clients. I’ve been nice with you and kept you away from the rough ones.” She tried to nod her head, but didn’t seem to have the energy. “You mess with me again and I’ll leave you for a couple of really sick fucks. Those boys like to use knives to make their own fuck holes.”

She broke down again and Tom let himself smile. Sometimes life was good.

Maggie waited until the other two priests had left before she approached Father Wilson. He was a lean man, with less hair than he’d had the year before and a warm smile for all of his parishioners. He was also a man who was accustomed, if she was reading him the right way, to the finer things in life.

He’d had a sermon once about the wild things he’d done when he was younger, and how he’d almost lost himself in the decadent ways of his youth before God called him home.

That made him a little bit different as challenges went. He’d had sex before and probably on several occasions. His face still held on to some of the looks that had probably made him very popular with the girls in his neighborhood when he was younger. Mostly, he looked at the women in the audience when he gave his sermons, and she had little doubt that part of him still longed for the good old days.

She was wearing her Sunday best today. She wanted to make sure he noticed her. Father Flannery had been easy; he was lonely and he liked younger women. Father Harris had been more challenging, but she’d figured the best way to handle him was to basically assault him in his bedroom. She was fairly confident that she could manage with Father Wilson as well, but he was an intriguing challenge.

He seemed so set in his ways, and even if he looked at the women in the church more than he looked at the men, that was almost to be expected. Also, he didn’t try to look down her blouse nearly as often as the other two did. They were subtle, but she knew how to read them. Father Wilson wasn’t quite as easy to peg.

She couldn’t find him at first and wondered if she had made a mistake. It was possible that he’d left before she got there, or that he was off doing any number of things that she had no desire to learn about. The business of running a church was hardly what she thought of as exciting news.

She found him in the vestibule behind the altar. Donald Wilson had been waiting for a moment alone. He had his eyes closed and was masturbating as quietly as he could, his mouth making motions as if he were speaking, but no sounds came from him.

Maggie watched him for several seconds, taken aback by his actions. Then she cleared her throat and got his attention.