Page 133 of I'm Watching You

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Friday, July 11, 6:00A.M.

Richard Braxton sat on the edge of his bed. The whore who’d showed up in his room late last night lay under the rumpled sheets. Her dark hair swept over her face. He imagined that in the right light, she could look like Christina.

He rose and pulled on his trousers. He handed her several hundred-dollar bills.

A sly smile lifted her lips. Now that his desire had cooled, he could see that the woman had coarse features made worse by layers of makeup. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her naked breasts bobbed and she pulled a tight T-shirt over them. She wriggled into her skirt and slipped manicured feet into four-inch heels. ‘It was fun. You in town long?’

Richard slipped on his shirt and buttoned it. ‘Long enough.’

She slid her hands seductively down her thighs. ‘If you want another romp, call me.’

Now that his desire had been satisfied, the whore disgusted him. Like yesterday’s trash, she needed to be dealt with. ‘I need for you to make a phone call.’

She traced a long finger down his chest and lookeddirectly into his eyes. ‘Sure, baby. You want Mama to talk dirty again?’

‘No.’ Richard handed her a disposable cell phone and a piece of paper with a number and a message on it. ‘This is what I want you to say.’

The whore shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed. She crossed her legs and dialed. She grinned up at him and ran her tongue over her lips suggestively. One ring. Two rings. ‘It’s going to voice mail.’

Damn. ‘Go ahead and leave the message.’

She nodded and he heard a distant message:‘I can’t take your call right now …’

The whore sat straighter. She followed the script. She’d said she’d wanted to be an actress.

Richard moved to the other side of the bed and pulled a length of rope out of his back pocket. He leaned over the bed and kissed the back of her neck as she closed the phone. ‘That was nice.’

‘You want me to be anyone else? I could be her again. What was her name? Christina?’

Hearing his wife’s name made him cringe. ‘I’d like that,’ he said silkily.

She started to turn, but he stopped her as he leaned forward and kissed her neck again. She tipped her head back, her long black hair falling over his hands. He fisted his fingers in the hair. He’d chosen her because of her hair.

As he continued to kiss her neck, he freed his hand from her hair and he carefully wound the ends of the rope around both hands and fisted his fingers around it.

In one swift move, he raised the rope over her head and wrapped it around her neck. He jerked hard, forcing her back. Immediately, she started to gag and her hands went up to his. She scratched his skin.

Her cheap perfume swirled around him as he tightened the noose. She tried to wriggle free as she thrashed her arms backward toward his face. Her fist connected with the side of his cheek. The pain pissed him off and he squeezed even harder. He could feel the vein in her neck pulsing wildly against his hand. Her body screamed for oxygen. His erection returned.

‘Christina,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘You said you wanted to be Christina.’

The fight slowly drained from her as her face turned bluer and bluer. Her hands dropped to her side, limp and lifeless, and finally her body slumped back against his.

To be extra careful, he held the rope in place several extra minutes until he was certain she was dead. Finally, he released her and she dropped to the carpeted floor in a heap.

Richard flexed his fingers. Now it was time to go to the hospital and wait.

Lindsay woke to the sound of her cell phone ringing. She sat up in bed, confused and disoriented. Her head throbbed and her body ached. She glanced at the phone number and didn’t recognize it. Assuming it was another reporter, she let her voice mail take it.

She swung her legs over the side of the twin bed. Brianna Dillon slept in the other bed. Lindsay had calledRuby late yesterday and her friend had welcomed her into her home without question.

Rising, she pulled her jeans on beneath the T-shirt she’d worn last night. She combed her fingers through her hair and pulled it up with the rubber band she’d tucked in her jeans pocket.

Quietly, she slipped out of the room. A light in the kitchen and the smell of coffee lured her down the hallway.

In the kitchen, she found Ruby standing next to the gas stove scrambling eggs.

---