groan escaped her lips. I pulled her back into the alcove. We squeezed into the small space together. “We’ll stay here for a few minutes until we’re sure he’s gone. Then we’ll grab the elevator and get the hell out of here.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I couldn’t believe it was you!”
“Are you okay?” I said.
She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. She threw her arms around my waist and squeezed as hard as she could. “Harry had invited Benny to come and watch—”
I interrupted her before she finished that terrible sentence. “—Does Benny live here in the hotel?” I said. She nodded. I went on, thinking aloud: “That means he’ll probably go to his room and wait for Varchetta’s call.”
I looked around the corner of the alcove again. The hallway was empty. “Let’s do our disappearing act,” I said.
Chapter 13
I glanced at Felicia. Her eyes were bright and excited in the glow of the instrument lights as she stared through the windshield at the onrushing road.
The Jag flattened against rain-washed Route 95, delighted with being let loose after being confined for so long in the city. The clicking of the wipers was the only sound inside the car, except for the deep-throated moan of the six-cylinder, double overhead cam engine as it propelled us away from Las Vegas.
I grinned as I thought of Benny, sitting alone in his room, filled with anticipation. I imagined the little beads of sweat on the dummy’s face as he explored his erotic thoughts. Then, suddenly, it wasn’t funny, and I found myself pissed.
I forced myself to think of other things. Such as, where to now? I knew one thing for certain: I wanted to get out of Nevada as quickly as possible.
Felicia slouched in the seat, eyes closed, mentally and physically exhausted. Ripper tried to get comfortable, at her expense. She stirred, and her eyes opened. “Poor Ripper,” she said. She put both arms around the brute and helped him get rearranged on her lap.
The big predator looked at me and sprawled against the warmth of her body, a 150 pound puppy. “Isn’t he squashing you?” I said.
“He’s tired, Jack. He’s worked hard, too, you know.”
Ripper let out a huge sigh and laid his ugly face between the full breasts that swelled up out of her wet, tissue-thin evening gown. The sight gave new meaning to the term, “Lucky Dog.”
I continued to cruise right around the century mark, letting the Jag eat up the miles. I checked the gauges. Everything was normal and the tank was full. There’d be no need to stop anywhere until we were well away from Las Vegas.
I glanced again at my companions. They were sound asleep, Felicia’s cheek resting against Ripper’s head, her arms still wrapped tightly around him.
* * *
The lights of Tonopah beckoned. I pulled into the Tonopah Station’s parking lot. The casino’s reader board boasted of a twenty-four hour restaurant. I killed the engine and glanced at my watch. One-thirty.
The rain was coming down harder than ever. A stiff, cold wind swept across the high desert, adding to the general misery. I sat there in the quiet, dark interior, listening to the creaking of the engine as it cooled down. Ripper was snoring, his head still resting between Felicia’s breasts, which rose and fell steadily as she breathed deeply in her sleep.
I was reluctant to disturb her—and yes, I was enjoying the view. Finally, I touched her cheek. She did not move.
“Hello in there,” I said. Nothing. I leaned closer and called her name. Ripper opened his eyes and gave me a disgusted look. “I’ll happily trade you places,” I said to his ugly face. He groaned and moved, which brought her instantly awake. She looked around, confused. “Where are we?”
“Tonopah. Hungry?”
“Starved.” She looked out at the driving rain. “Oh my, it’s really coming down!”
I got out of the car and dashed quickly around to her side. I opened the door and Ripper clambered out,
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I couldn’t believe it was you!”
“Are you okay?” I said.
She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. She threw her arms around my waist and squeezed as hard as she could. “Harry had invited Benny to come and watch—”
I interrupted her before she finished that terrible sentence. “—Does Benny live here in the hotel?” I said. She nodded. I went on, thinking aloud: “That means he’ll probably go to his room and wait for Varchetta’s call.”
I looked around the corner of the alcove again. The hallway was empty. “Let’s do our disappearing act,” I said.
Chapter 13
I glanced at Felicia. Her eyes were bright and excited in the glow of the instrument lights as she stared through the windshield at the onrushing road.
The Jag flattened against rain-washed Route 95, delighted with being let loose after being confined for so long in the city. The clicking of the wipers was the only sound inside the car, except for the deep-throated moan of the six-cylinder, double overhead cam engine as it propelled us away from Las Vegas.
I grinned as I thought of Benny, sitting alone in his room, filled with anticipation. I imagined the little beads of sweat on the dummy’s face as he explored his erotic thoughts. Then, suddenly, it wasn’t funny, and I found myself pissed.
I forced myself to think of other things. Such as, where to now? I knew one thing for certain: I wanted to get out of Nevada as quickly as possible.
Felicia slouched in the seat, eyes closed, mentally and physically exhausted. Ripper tried to get comfortable, at her expense. She stirred, and her eyes opened. “Poor Ripper,” she said. She put both arms around the brute and helped him get rearranged on her lap.
The big predator looked at me and sprawled against the warmth of her body, a 150 pound puppy. “Isn’t he squashing you?” I said.
“He’s tired, Jack. He’s worked hard, too, you know.”
Ripper let out a huge sigh and laid his ugly face between the full breasts that swelled up out of her wet, tissue-thin evening gown. The sight gave new meaning to the term, “Lucky Dog.”
I continued to cruise right around the century mark, letting the Jag eat up the miles. I checked the gauges. Everything was normal and the tank was full. There’d be no need to stop anywhere until we were well away from Las Vegas.
I glanced again at my companions. They were sound asleep, Felicia’s cheek resting against Ripper’s head, her arms still wrapped tightly around him.
* * *
The lights of Tonopah beckoned. I pulled into the Tonopah Station’s parking lot. The casino’s reader board boasted of a twenty-four hour restaurant. I killed the engine and glanced at my watch. One-thirty.
The rain was coming down harder than ever. A stiff, cold wind swept across the high desert, adding to the general misery. I sat there in the quiet, dark interior, listening to the creaking of the engine as it cooled down. Ripper was snoring, his head still resting between Felicia’s breasts, which rose and fell steadily as she breathed deeply in her sleep.
I was reluctant to disturb her—and yes, I was enjoying the view. Finally, I touched her cheek. She did not move.
“Hello in there,” I said. Nothing. I leaned closer and called her name. Ripper opened his eyes and gave me a disgusted look. “I’ll happily trade you places,” I said to his ugly face. He groaned and moved, which brought her instantly awake. She looked around, confused. “Where are we?”
“Tonopah. Hungry?”
“Starved.” She looked out at the driving rain. “Oh my, it’s really coming down!”
I got out of the car and dashed quickly around to her side. I opened the door and Ripper clambered out,
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