until they were completely uncovered. He turned back to Sherry, but before stretching out over her, he knelt on the bed beside her and just looked at her.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“I’m sorry, I’m ... staring at you.” He chuckled.
“Staring at me?” she said.
“Yeah. I’m ... drinking you in.”
“Now you’re drinking me?” She laughed even harder and the movement of her breasts made Philpott instantly hard. She reached out and stroked his cock. “Boy, you really get off on this staring stuff, huh?”
Philpott reached down and spread her legs and knelt between them. He was lowering his face to her crotch when someone pounded on the front door.
“Oh, shit!” Sherry hissed. “It’s locked. Doesn’t Andy have a key? Why is he knocking?”
“You think it’s Andy?”
“Who else would it be at this hour?”
“Shit,” he said as he scrambled off the bed and assembled his clothes. They dressed quickly, bumping into each other a few times.
Finally, they were dressed and in the living room. Philpott flopped onto the couch and looked at the television. Sherry went to the door.
Before she could open it, there was more pounding.
“Andy?” she said.
There was no response outside the door.
“Uh, hello?” she said. “Who is it?”
Another long silence followed and she turned to Philpott with a questioning look.
“Don’t open it,” he whispered.
“Who is it?” she said.
Still no response.
“If you don’t answer, I’m calling the police,” she said.
A strong male voice said, “We’re looking for Arnold Garvis.”
Sherry turned to Philpott with wide eyes. Together, they turned to the lump under the blanket on the floor.
“That’s all we want,” the first voice said. “We’ll just take him and go.”
“Who are you?”
Silence, then: “Secret Service.”
Sherry rolled her eyes. “ You’re the secret service?”
“Do you know who Arnold is?” the second voice said.
Sherry looked over at the shape under the blanket on the stained floor again. “Well ... no.”
“We do. And we’ve come for him. Just let us get him, and we’ll leave you alone.”
Philpott stood and went to Sherry’s side. “Who are you?” he said.
“Someone who can make a hell of a lot of trouble for you in a very short period of time if you don’t cooperate.”
Sherry went to the bar and opened the small drawer behind it. She removed from the drawer a .38 revolver. She turned to Philpott and said, “I’m gonna let ‘em in.” She turned to the door. “I have a gun. The second you do something I don’t like, I start shooting, understand?”
“Yes.”
She unlocked the door and pulled it open. She saw two black figures on the other side of the screen door. She turned on the porch light, but they remained two black figures. They wore black shirts and black pants and shoes and looked like twins. One had blond hair, the other dark. They had very serious, stern, but nondescript faces.
When she pushed the screen door open, they came inside.
They were tall and bland. They turned to Sherry and the blond said, “Where is he?”
The brunette glanced at Sherry’s gun.
“Under that blanket over there,” she said.
They went to the lump on the floor and Blondie pulled back the blanket. They stared down at the corpse.
The dark-haired man turned to Sherry. “What happened?”
She shrugged. “We woke up and found him that way. It looks like an overdose. We don’t even know who he is or what he’s doing here. He came with a friend of a friend early this morning.”
They spent a few more seconds looking down at the corpse, whispered briefly to each other, then turned to her again.
“Mind if we take some of these blankets?” one of them said.
“No, go ahead, take ‘em.”
She and Philpott stood back while the two men wrapped the body up in blankets. One stood at each end and carried the wrapped-up body to the door. One opened the door and they carried the body out of the
“What are you doing?” she said.
“I’m sorry, I’m ... staring at you.” He chuckled.
“Staring at me?” she said.
“Yeah. I’m ... drinking you in.”
“Now you’re drinking me?” She laughed even harder and the movement of her breasts made Philpott instantly hard. She reached out and stroked his cock. “Boy, you really get off on this staring stuff, huh?”
Philpott reached down and spread her legs and knelt between them. He was lowering his face to her crotch when someone pounded on the front door.
“Oh, shit!” Sherry hissed. “It’s locked. Doesn’t Andy have a key? Why is he knocking?”
“You think it’s Andy?”
“Who else would it be at this hour?”
“Shit,” he said as he scrambled off the bed and assembled his clothes. They dressed quickly, bumping into each other a few times.
Finally, they were dressed and in the living room. Philpott flopped onto the couch and looked at the television. Sherry went to the door.
Before she could open it, there was more pounding.
“Andy?” she said.
There was no response outside the door.
“Uh, hello?” she said. “Who is it?”
Another long silence followed and she turned to Philpott with a questioning look.
“Don’t open it,” he whispered.
“Who is it?” she said.
Still no response.
“If you don’t answer, I’m calling the police,” she said.
A strong male voice said, “We’re looking for Arnold Garvis.”
Sherry turned to Philpott with wide eyes. Together, they turned to the lump under the blanket on the floor.
“That’s all we want,” the first voice said. “We’ll just take him and go.”
“Who are you?”
Silence, then: “Secret Service.”
Sherry rolled her eyes. “ You’re the secret service?”
“Do you know who Arnold is?” the second voice said.
Sherry looked over at the shape under the blanket on the stained floor again. “Well ... no.”
“We do. And we’ve come for him. Just let us get him, and we’ll leave you alone.”
Philpott stood and went to Sherry’s side. “Who are you?” he said.
“Someone who can make a hell of a lot of trouble for you in a very short period of time if you don’t cooperate.”
Sherry went to the bar and opened the small drawer behind it. She removed from the drawer a .38 revolver. She turned to Philpott and said, “I’m gonna let ‘em in.” She turned to the door. “I have a gun. The second you do something I don’t like, I start shooting, understand?”
“Yes.”
She unlocked the door and pulled it open. She saw two black figures on the other side of the screen door. She turned on the porch light, but they remained two black figures. They wore black shirts and black pants and shoes and looked like twins. One had blond hair, the other dark. They had very serious, stern, but nondescript faces.
When she pushed the screen door open, they came inside.
They were tall and bland. They turned to Sherry and the blond said, “Where is he?”
The brunette glanced at Sherry’s gun.
“Under that blanket over there,” she said.
They went to the lump on the floor and Blondie pulled back the blanket. They stared down at the corpse.
The dark-haired man turned to Sherry. “What happened?”
She shrugged. “We woke up and found him that way. It looks like an overdose. We don’t even know who he is or what he’s doing here. He came with a friend of a friend early this morning.”
They spent a few more seconds looking down at the corpse, whispered briefly to each other, then turned to her again.
“Mind if we take some of these blankets?” one of them said.
“No, go ahead, take ‘em.”
She and Philpott stood back while the two men wrapped the body up in blankets. One stood at each end and carried the wrapped-up body to the door. One opened the door and they carried the body out of the
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