“I know what,” she whispered.
Harry was breathing deeply as though already sleep. She had to fight the impression that she was alone in the darkness, talking to herself.
“Your Uncle Richard’s summer camp at Little Sebago, in Maine. We went there a couple of summers ago. We could stay there.”
“Uh, you may recall, Uncle Dick died two years ago, and the rest of the family has been squabbling over who’s going to get the camp. Besides, why the hell would we want to move to Maine? Now that Uncle Dick’s dead, we don’t have family or friends there.”
“So Alex would
never
think that’s where we went! And we don’t have to stay there. I’m just talking about using it for a little while. Why not? I mean, if you explained our situation to your sister and brother.”
“I suppose so, I mean, if we had to; but look, Cindy—” His voice became edged with agitation. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, all right?” He slammed his fist into his pillow and, huffing, rolled away from her. “Lemme get some goddamned sleep!”
Well. I want to talk about it
, Cindy thought, but she didn’t say anything. For the first time in over ten years marriage, she was thinking that there might be something that was going to split them apart. They had made it through job hassles and emotional problems, rough the anxiety and sadness of not being able to have children of their own, and through numerous family tragedies, including her parents’ deaths and her sister’s accident—
No, murder!
—but now Cindy was thinking that
this
might be it: this might be the issue, the wedge that would finally drive them apart.
When she searched her feelings, she was frightened to discover how much she didn’t care. Not really. Right now, protecting her sister’s children, sparing them the pain of being raised by an abusive, alcoholic father, maybe even saving their lives from the man she was positive had killed their mother was the most important thing in her life… even more important than her marriage.
And in the dark, humid pre-dawn silence, she decided that she was going to do it, with or without Harry’s help. It might take her a few days, maybe even a week or two to get things organized, but she going to kidnap Billy and Krissy Harris.
She
had
to!
Rendezvous
T
he sun hammered down onto the asphalt and rebounded in rippling, watery waves as Harry Toland pulled his bright red Camaro into the parking lot of the Buzzy Bee Motel. As always, he was a bit concerned about the conspicuousness of his fancy car with the novelty license plate reading “HRDWRE,” but—as always—he told himself that the odds of someone on the Iowa side of the Missouri River recognizing his car were… well, at least small enough not to allow the worry to ruin his afternoon.
No siree, even though he was exhausted from not getting enough sleep last night, he had no intention of letting any worries spoil the fun he had planned for this afternoon with Elizabeth St. Claire. He glanced at his watch, saw that he was almost ten minutes late, and hoped like hell that Elizabeth’s attitude wasn’t already soured. She was on her lunch break from the credit union and would no doubt have to hurry to get back to work by two o’clock. But just thinking about her waiting for him in that dark, air conditioned room, made his erection harden.
Shifting his car into park, he killed the ignition and grabbed the bottle of white Zinfindel from the sea beside him. He was hoping it would go a long way toward making up for lost time; and as much as he hated to admit it, time was his enemy today. He had worked double-time all morning, trying to cover a full day’s worth of business by noon just so he could take off a few hours this afternoon. The drive from the hardware store, across the Missouri River to Council Bluffs had taken almost half an hour, what with the traffic heavier than normal and a bad run of luck with the traffic lights.
He sighed heavily as he stepped out of the air conditioned comfort of his car, and the heat of the dash washed over him like a gush of hot water. After making sure he’d locked the car doors, he squinted as he scanned the heat-hazed parking lot. A smile split his face when he saw Elizabeth’s white Toyota Camry parked at the far end of the long, low row of motel units. As always when she arrived first, she’d signaled that the door was unlocked by hanging her red scarf on the Levelor blinds in the window of unit 40, their usual rendezvous room.
“Ah, that’s my girl,” Harry whispered.
He slid his car keys into his pocket and started across the parking lot, wanting to hurry out of the heat but no quite having the energy to move fast. With each step his feet seemed to sink a few inches into the sun softened asphalt. The combination of heat, lack of sleep, and working at top speed all morning were taking their toll. By the time he rapped lightly on the enamel green door and jiggled the doorknob, he was thinking how much he’d rather take a short nap than make love this afternoon… even with Elizabeth.
“I’m waiting,” a light, feminine voice chimed from inside the room.
Smiling, Harry pushed the door open and stepped into the embracing arms of cool darkness. The air conditioner was humming softly, drowning out all other noises from outside. He shivered as he swung the door shut behind him and waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the thick gloom before running the security chain lock shut.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he felt his way cautiously forward and placed the bottle of wine on top of the TV. “Traffic was all screwed up downtown.”
“Don’t worry,” said the woman’s voice with just a hint of humor. “I didn’t start anything without you.”
Harry laughed softly. He could see a little bit better now, and could make out the mounded hump in the bed. A single, white sheet covered Elizabeth up to her neck. Her long, black hair spread out over the pillow. Her eyes seemed to glow dully as she stared up at him. A faint smile exposed the fine white line of her teeth as her tongue darted out and licked her upper lip.
“Oh…
some
one’s been sleeping in
my
bed,” Harry said.
His eyes lingered for a moment on the shadowed, rounded curves beneath the sheet… curves that made his mouth go suddenly dry. For a woman in her late thirties, Elizabeth was in fantastic shape. He loved the passionate enjoyment she brought to their love-making sessions. At times, but not often over the past three years of his affair with her, Harry wondered when and why and how he had lost that feeling with Cindy. Only lately had he stopped wondering if they would ever get it back. Why worry, when he had discovered it was so much better with Elizabeth?
“Would you care for some wine first?” He indicated the bottle with a sweep of his hand.
In answer, Elizabeth flung the sheet aside, exposing her naked body. Her firm, rounded breasts drew his gaze and held it for a moment, but then he looked down at the dark triangle between her legs as she slowly spread her knees apart.
“Would you care for some of
this
first?” she said.
“I—uh, I thought you said you hadn’t started yet,” he said, laughing.
“I’ve shown you mine, now get your butt over here and let me see what you’ve got,” Elizabeth said, lowering her voice to a husky, commanding tone.
Chuckling softly, Harry walked over to the bedside and stood at attention while Elizabeth, leaning on one elbow, reached up and began to unbuckle his belt. She unsnapped his pants, ran the zipper down, and then rolled his pants and underpants down to his knees in one swift motion.
“Umm,” she said, followed by a low, guttural growl. “I like what I see already.”
She grabbed his penis with one hand and, cupping his balls with the other hand, started kissing the tip, flicking it with her tongue. In an instant, Harry was hard and ready to go, but in spite of his arousal, he couldn’t suppress the yawn that shook his body.
“Oh, dear… What’s the matter?” Elizabeth said with a note of wounded pride in her voice. “Aren’t you all that interested this afternoon? Maybe I can convince you.”
Harry grunted but said nothing, choosing instead to close his eyes and lean his head back as she opened her mouth and took him inside. The warm, wet ring of her lips surrounded him, pulling up and down with a soft, steady pressure. Blood engorged his penis, but still, in spite of himself, he yawned again with a loud, warbling groan.
“Are you sure you’re up for this? No pun intended,” Elizabeth said as she shifted her knees to one side and sat up on the edge of the bed. Harry immediately plopped himself down beside her, bouncing a few times before flopping onto his back. Elizabeth leaned over him, her hand making cool, lazy circles on his chest and stomach as she pinched the loose, white flab of his belly—the belly of a man who was too busy with his work to exercise conscientiously.
“I—uh, well… you see…”
He smiled as Elizabeth shifted forward and let the soft cushions of her breasts brush against his ribs. He felt her nipples harden as she shifted up and down, breathing heavily into his ear.
“Hey, doll,” she cooed. “If you’re all stressed out, you can just lie there and let me take care of things.”
Again, her hand closed around Harry’s penis, squeezing and pulling gently; but the waves of sleepiness washing through him were too strong to ignore. He twisted his head to one side and covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned again so hard that tears filled his eyes.
“God, I dunno,” he said. “I’m just…” He sighed, laid his head back and closed his eyes.
“What, are things still out of control at home?” Elizabeth asked.
Harry had kept her filled in on most of the details about Debbie’s death and Cindy’s reaction—no,
over
reaction to it. They had talked—as they had often talked over the past three years—about when he would get around to divorcing Cindy so they would be free to get married. Elizabeth knew better than to push him about it now because she knew how upset his wife was about her sister’s death. Still, after such a longtime, she was starting to lose patience and was beginning to wonder just how sincere he really was. After all, if a man would cheat on his wife for three years and never get around to broaching the subject of divorce with her, what was the guarantee that he would remain faithful to her once they were married?
“It’s weird and getting weirder,” Harry said, keeping his eyes closed and smiling sleepily as Elizabeth continued to move her hand up and down, up and down.
“What is it now,” Elizabeth said. She shifted down a bit and started kissing his stomach, taking a few moments to ream his navel with her tongue before shifting further down.
“She wants the kids,” Harry said. Heated waves of pleasure mingled like whiskey in water with the soft pull of sleep. He told himself it was okay, that she had suggested he just lie back and enjoy himself.
“What kids?” Elizabeth snapped. “You’ve been telling me for three years that you don’t have any kids.”
The accusatory tone in her voice almost dragged him back to full consciousness, but he didn’t stay there for long. The softness of the mattress and cool sheets enfolded him like a billowing cloud.
“No, not
ours
… her
sister’s
kids,” Harry said. “There’s this—Her sister wrote a will that gave her custody of her children, and Cindy wants to take them.”
Elizabeth’s ministrations suddenly stopped. She heaved herself up so their faces were level, and she glared at him. “You’re not going to let her do it, I hope,” she said.
Harry craned his head up and looked at her, surprised by the flashes of anger and concern he saw in her eyes. He shook his head weakly and said, “Course not! No way! Besides, I’m sure their father’s gonna fight her on it—all the way. She’ll never get them, but get this—last night, goddamned if she didn’t keep me up almost ’till dawn, jabbering about how she wanted to take the kids away from him—kidnap them and take them out of state.”
“Good! Then let her do it!” Elizabeth said, snorting derisively before sliding back down and taking him into her mouth again.
His mind swirling with pleasure, Harry closed his eyes and eased his head back onto the pillow.
“Yeah, you know? Maybe you’re right,” he said, his voice drifting up and down the scale. “Umm—that feels
great
! Keep doing that. Maybe I can… I dunno… maybe I can work it so she does take off with the kids, and I’ll stay behind. Then—I dunno… maybe I can sue her for desertion or something.”
Elizabeth said nothing as she started moving her head up and down, faster and faster. The pressure in Harry’s groin was growing intense, almost to the point of pain. Just as he was about to explode, Elizabeth stopped what she was doing and, smacking her lips, shifted one leg around so she was straddling him.
“Hold on, there, buckaroo,” she whispered as she clawed at his chest and stomach. Her fingernails crosshatched red lines on his white skin. “We have to pace ourselves, baby.” She slid forward until the triangle of her pubic hair was only a few inches from his face and started thrusting back and forth. Closing his eyes, Harry stuck out his tongue and started licking her, gently at first.
Elizabeth groaned with pleasure as Harry picked up the pace, making her wet.
“I mean … we have… ourselves… a whole… hour … to kill…”
2
“Billy… I think I heard something downstairs.”
Krissy Harris’s high whisper barely penetrated the darkness of the bedroom she shared with her brother. Every night since their mother had died, nearly a month ago now, they had slept in the same bed together. Billy knew that his father didn’t want them sleeping together. “Sissy stuff,” he’d called it. But every night after their father sent them off to bed and had gone out for the evening, leaving them home alone, Billy would slip under the covers with Krissy, and they would hug each other until they were both asleep. Most nights, Krissy would cry herself to sleep, muttering as she drifted off how much she missed mommy. Then, every morning before his father got up, Billy would go back to his own bed, making sure to mess it up so his father would think he had slept there. They knew they shouldn’t be sneaking like this, but being close—especially at night—gave them both a small measure of security. Most nights, though, even that didn’t seem like quite enough.
“No… I didn’t hear—”
“Shhush… I think someone’s moving around downstairs.” Krissy waited a beat or two. “Listen! Did you hear that?”
Billy strained to hear, but the only sounds were the soft whispering rush of blood in his ears and the faint patter of rain on the roof. He didn’t like the darkness, didn’t feel safe in it, but he sure-as-heck couldn’t let his little sister know how scared he was. It was up to him to be the big kid in this situation.
“Naw… I don’t hear nothing,” he hissed. “Maybe it was just the wind… or dad getting home.”
“No… there’s someone sneaking around down there.” Krissy gripped his hand and squeezed it as tightly as she could. “Oh, Billy,” she said with a moan. “I’m scared. What if it’s that… that lady I saw?”
“What lady?” Billy asked, but when his sister didn’t answer right away, he whispered, “Hold on a sec.”
Sliding his hand from hers, he threw aside his bed covers and tiptoed toward the closed door, running one hand along the wall for guidance. His heart was hammering hard in his chest as he pressed his ear against the door and listened… listened for… something… anything…
“I
know
I heard something,” Krissy whispered. Her voice was like a moth, fluttering in the darkness. The tension she telegraphed only made it worse for Billy, too.