Page 63 of Salvation

A lock turns and the door opens a crack. A very attractive woman of about forty looks me over. Her hair is a rich brown. Her skin is smooth, and has the look of a porcelain doll, except for a few lines around her eyes. She looks me over from head to toe and I don’t mistake the appreciation in her eyes. Glancing over at Alan, she dismisses him.

I hold in a smirk. She smiles at me, opening the door wider. “Well, I’m Mindy Smith. What would you two fine gentlemen with the Louisiana State Police, out of Baton Rouge, want with me?”

I watch her face as I say, “I have a few questions about Renald Antoinette.”

All color leaves her face, leaving her rosy complexion from moments ago looking sickly and sallow. She slumps against the doorframe. She looks up, suddenly looking worlds older than mere moments ago. Her hand covers her chest. I can see it shaking slightly. “What’s he done now?”

My brows arch and I quickly glance at Alan. He’s also watching Ms. Smith intently. He asks, “How well do you know him?”

Swallowing sharply, she looks out at the street before opening the door wider and waving us in. “You two should come in… this might take a while.”

We follow her into the house, as she leads us into a nice, inviting living room. She sits in a chair in the corner, and reaches for the remote on the arm, muting the TV. Her hands wave toward the soft, sage colored, sofa across from her. “Sit down.”

We do. I take my notebook out, leaning forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Ma’am… I’m just going to jump into this because it’s very important. Who is Renald Antoinette to you?”

Sighing deeply, worlds of regret are evident in the sound as she pats her hair… then, she smiles sadly. “To answer that adequately, I need to know exactly what you know about me.”

Alan clicks his pen as he opens the file he’s holding. He reads the information printed there. “Mindy Smith. Forty-one. 1546 Cherry Tree Lane.” He coughs. “Formerly an exotic dancer. No known occupation now.”

She nods. “Yes, that’s all true. I’m forty-one and I was a stripper… I no longer work… I no longer need to.”

Alan is deeply focused on Ms. Smith as I ask, “Why is that, Ms. Smith?”

She looks right at me, barely acknowledging him. “Because of Renald.”

I shake my head to show I don’t understand. “Because of Renald? Did you lose your job? Are you unhirable? Can you elaborate on that statement?”

Leaning back in the chair, she crosses her legs. They are still very toned, and she has a healthy color as though she spends a lot of time outdoors, or she has found the perfect self-tanner for herself. She’s a very attractive woman. “I no longer have to work because Renald has paid me over a million dollars over the past eight years.”

I blink. “Pardon? He’s paid you a million dollars for what, Ma’am?”

She looks at me, and then, her gaze strays to the window. She stares out of it as she speaks. “I’m going to tell you a story. About nine and a half years ago, I fell into some hard times. I lost my job as a receptionist and couldn’t pay my bills. I was about to be evicted from my apartment. My car was about to be repossessed. My credit cards were maxed out… I was desperate.

“I’d always been fit. I used to do kickboxing and spin. I enjoyed it, but it also kept my body toned and tight. And it got me attention…

“One day, I was at the gym at Louisiana Tech Shreveport. I used to work out there because it was free, and no one checked to make certain you were a student. A man approached me. He was young, probably early twenties or so; he started talking to me and flirting. I enjoyed the attention. I mean, he was this young, virile, attractive man who was paying me attention. Eventually, he started complimenting my body. I was flattered. We talked a bit more and he asked me what I did for a living. I told him I’d just lost my job.

“He told me he knew a way I could make a lot of money and it would be easy with my sexy face and body. I got uneasy and tried to excuse myself. He told me not to misunderstand and that he wasn’t talking about prostitution, but then he asked if I’d ever danced exotically… stripped before.

“I immediately said no and that I couldn’t do that. He talked to me for a bit and said that his uncle ran a well-known, upscale strip club in Shreveport, and he could get me an interview. Again, I said no thanks, but he kept on. He said that I could make more than a thousand dollars a night and all I had to do was dance with no clothes on.

“I said no, but then I started thinking about it. I mean it was stripping, not hooking. All I’d have to do was take my clothes off and dance… and I’d get paid for it. And what he was saying was that I could get paid a lot for it.

“I was about to get evicted. I was about to lose everything I’d previously worked for, and no one was hiring. I’d been on so many interviews… So, I agreed to meet with his uncle. He set it up for the next day.

“I met with him, and he asked me to dance. Dancing was something I’d always loved, so I was good at it. He hired me and I started working that night. The young guy was right. I made $1200 that first night.

“I kept doing it. About a year in, I was really making good money. I worked five nights a week and was making around $7000… cash… Every week.”

“Then one night, a group of college guys came into the club. They stayed near me, and all got lap dances. One of them, Renald, offered me $10,000 if I’d do a private party. I knew I shouldn’t have gone, but he waved the money in my face to show he was serious. He swore that I would only dance. They weren’t expecting sex. He even offered to let me bring one of the security guards at the club with me if I was nervous.

“Outside work was prohibited, and I knew that I could get fired if I was caught, but I’d made friends with one of the bouncers, and after work I asked him if he’d come with me for a cut of the money. He agreed and the next night I did the party. I danced for about two hours and made $10,000. It became more frequent.

“One night, Renald came in alone… he was anxious and seemed like he needed to unwind. He asked me if I’d dance for him privately… alone. I felt comfortable enough with him that I agreed. I mean, nothing had ever gone wrong before. The bouncer couldn’t come with me that night, but I decided to go anyway. The parties were always at his house, so I knew where I was going. I went and he answered the door. He offered me a drink, but I declined. I started to dance for him and at first everything was fine. He offered me another drink and I accepted it.

“Midway into my next dance, I started to feel strange. I was disoriented and my legs felt like jelly.

“He acted concerned and said I should lie down until it passed... It didn’t.

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