Play Time
The first redheaded girl in a short skirt that Junior and Lucky found as they cruised up and down the dark roads in and around the UCLA campus turned out to be a young prostitute plying her trades right outside the south campus gate. She didn’t appear to be a coed, not unless she was moonlighting for tuition, which could have very well been the case. It had happened before. The important thing was that she was pretty good-looking, a hooker on the prowl who met their designated description. She wore black fishnets, firetruck-red six-inch heels, and a short white skirt that showed off some shapely legs. Her top was low enough to reveal two other impressive attributes that they both deemed highly important. As they drove slowly past her in Junior’s red Mercedes, she smiled and waved at them by lifting the hem of her skirt—which pretty much did the trick. Yes, they liked that about her.
“What’d you think, Junior?”
“I think she just looks good enough to eat. She’s a little-bitty thing, too, so she shouldn’t cause us much trouble if she starts fighting. She’ll probably be too scared, though.”
“Okay, she fits the criteria, so let’s do her. We can get us a college kid next time if she’s not enrolled. This is only a trial run, anyway. Who knows, maybe she goes to classes in the daytime.”
Junior drove the length of the block and turned the car around in a private driveway. Then he came back and stopped right in front of the willing young woman. She looked older than they’d first thought. Still in her twenties, or most likely thirties. Like a graduate student, maybe. Junior hoped she was in college. He wanted to keep to their plans and make their board choices sacrosanct. He was anal that way. But whatever, she did meet most of their standards. So Lucky slid down his passenger window and called to her. Junior decided that she was really good-looking under all the makeup she was wearing. More important, it would be easy to crack her skull with the heavy silver candlestick they’d chosen as a weapon, the one his mom always used in the middle of the table at Christmas dinner. They needed to get her inside the car and back home quickly and efficiently, before anybody saw them talking to her, much less saw her getting into the car. He decided that they needed to buy an old car in which to pick up their victims, one that wouldn’t be so easy to identify.
“Hey, handsome,” she said to Lucky, leaning down close so he could look down her blouse. Junior could smell her perfume all the way over on the driver’s side. She smelled damn good. Nice and sweet. He thought he recognized the scent as Juicy Couture, because his mom used to wear that sometimes. Now the little redhead was smiling across the seat at him. “Oh wow, this is my lucky day. Two hot guys in a hot car.”
“You do two at a time?” Junior asked.
“I do two and three and sometimes four, baby. But it’ll cost you double for the both of you. Triple if you want a threesome.”
“Yeah? How much?”
“A hundred bucks each for an hour, higher if you want some kink thrown into the mix.”
“Seems a tad pricey to me. Think you’re worth that much?”
She only laughed and shook those long russet-red curls. That’s when Junior thought she might have on a wig. Her hair just looked too perfect. “I’m worth a lot more than that. I hone my talents. You’ll see.”
Lucky was still looking down her gaping blouse. “I think you’re exactly what we’ve been looking for, baby.”
“Yeah, me too,” agreed Junior. “Climb in. We want to go somewhere nice and private. Campus cops patrol around here.”
The redhead climbed into the back seat, raring to go, it seemed. Probably envisioning lots of dollar signs. Junior glanced at Lucky and smiled, and then he took off. He made sure he did not exceed the speed limit. It was late now, well after midnight. He took as many side streets as he could while Lucky flirted with the girl. He glanced back at her. “You okay with going to my house? Nobody’s home this weekend but us. We’ll have it all to ourselves.”
“How far is it?”
“Beverly Hills.”
“Really? You live there?”
“Yeah. I got lots of money.”
She looked skeptical, as if she didn’t believe him. “So tell me what you’ve got in mind. There are some things I won’t do. No exceptions.”
“Don’t worry. We aren’t weirdos. We like to play strip poker with girls like you, you know, the pretty ones.” Lucky rested his arm on the seat and looked back at her. “You up for some fun and games first?”
“Sure, I like to play games.” She giggled a little. She might even be in her mid-thirties, Junior thought. But she was still really cute. They had lucked out this first time around.
“What’s your name?” Lucky asked her.
“Rosie.”
“That your real name?”
“You don’t get to know my real name.”
“That’s okay. You don’t get to know ours, either. You work the streets every night around campus?”
“Unless I’ve got a final or something the next morning.”
Junior and Lucky looked at each other again. So she was a college student after all. After that, Junior picked up speed, getting eager. He hit an on-ramp and headed for home. When they entered the quiet streets of his exclusive neighborhood, Rosie appeared impressed. “You guys must be as rich as Mark Wahlberg, living in houses like these.”
“Yeah, we pretty much are. Maybe you’ll get a big tip if you do things our way.”
“No problem. I can stay as long as you want. But it’ll cost you. I’m short on tuition.”
“No problem,” said Junior. “We’re both loaded.”
By the time they got Rosie the Hooker down into the game room, Junior was beside himself and antsy with anticipation. They had planned it all out in specific detail while they’d driven around eating pepperoni pizza. They had made up some game cards to play, cards that listed which piece of clothing the player who drew it had to take off. Once he’d seen how enticing her body was, he wanted the game to last longer before they revealed their true intent. But killing her was their objective, so that’s what had to take priority over other prurient pleasures. They could find a call girl any day, but murder was the goal tonight—and that was pretty damn erotic. At least, it was to Junior.
The three of them sat down together at the round game table in the center of the basement. Rosie kept looking at Junior, even more than she looked at Lucky. That was unusual. Girls always looked at Lucky the most, and told him what pretty eyes he had and how handsome he was. She had great eyes, too, big and black and so heavily drenched with black eyeliner and black shadow and false eyelashes that it was hard to tell what they really looked like. Junior was pretty sure her hair wasn’t naturally red. It really did look like a wig, now that he saw her close-up. At first, he found that disconcerting. If she wasn’t a natural redhead, that would disqualify her from one of the major requirements they’d deemed necessary for their victim. Then again, he guessed it didn’t really matter. She was gonna have red hair at the moment of death, and that was the important thing.
“What kind of poker do you guys play? Five card draw? Texas Hold’em?” she asked. “I like them all.”
Lucky laughed. “We usually just skip the poker and get down to the stripping part.”
“Sounds okay to me.” She reached under the table and squeezed Junior’s thigh, up high, where it counted. He was already incredibly turned on by the idea of murdering her in cold blood, and her familiarity and obvious come-on just made it that much more intense. He’d never picked up a hooker off the street before. Not like Lucky had. Lucky liked to boast about the hookers he’d had, and he bragged about never having to pay them a penny. Junior was pretty sure he was lying about his prowess, though.
Now Lucky was explaining the game to Rosie. “Okay, we’re just gonna draw one of these cards right here, the black ones, and do what it says. Okay?”
“Sure. Sounds like fun. It’s your money.”
“All right then, you go first. You know, we’re gentlemen. Ladies always go first.”
“Oh, wow, I do like manners in my johns. Don’t see all that many nice guys like you, not around campus. You sure you don’t want to just get it on? The three of us? I don’t think I’d have to pretend with you two.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet. But we can do that in a little while. I wanna play a game first.” Junior spoke the last part in a creepy voice. Rosie gave him a startled look, but didn’t seem to get the connection to the torture porn movies. Poor little thing, she had no idea what kind of horror was headed her way. But he couldn’t let himself feel any empathy for her. She was a means to the end. Besides, the die was cast. She was in the lion’s den with two very deadly and bloodthirsty big cats. That analogy made him smile.
“Okay, I’ll draw first,” she offered. “You boys got anything to drink?”
“How about a glass of champagne? We bought it to celebrate with you.”
“Really? What are we celebrating?”
“Oh, just the first step in a big project of ours.”
“I love champagne. I’ve only had it once, on New Year’s Eve.”
Junior went to the bar and poured them all champagne in his mom’s best crystal flutes. Rosie held hers up, examined the etching, and exclaimed over all the bubbles. She was coming across as a very innocent girl. After she took a drink, she put her glass down and reached for the top card of the stack. She had long nails painted dark blue. Junior was going to have to watch those nails when he grabbed her, or she would most certainly use them like talons and gouge his face. Girls always went for a guy’s eyes when he got too carried away.
“Why, look here, guys. This card says for me to take off my skirt.” Rosie jumped right up, eager as hell, it seemed, unzipped her tiny white leather skirt, and let it drop down to the floor around her feet. All she had on underneath it was a black garter belt and the fishnets. She looked as sexy as hell standing there in front of them. She was as pretty as the high-price girls they called in from time to time.
“Nice,” Lucky said. His tongue swiped over his lips. He found her desirable, too. “You look real good, Rosie.”
Junior could tell that he meant it. She was fine, and she was sexy, and she was ready to roll. A captive audience, in fact. For a second, he thought about taking advantage of her chosen profession and having a bit of fun before they did her, but then he realized that that wasn’t in the plan. They had to treat their new game in a businesslike manner if they wanted to succeed. This first selection was an important step. They had to do it well, do it together, and get away with it, without any hitches.
Junior elected to draw next. His card told him to remove his shoes. So he kicked off his black tasseled loafers.
Lucky’s card said to take off his shirt. He pulled his T-shirt off over his head, and Rosie reached over and rubbed her palms on his bulging pecs, then trailed her fingers down over his six-pack and below. Now Junior thought what a pity it was that she had to die tonight. She really was a nice girl, and smelled so great and sure as hell was hot to trot. Then again, she was nothing but a cheap streetwalker, so far beneath them that what did it really matter?
They joked and flirted with each other, and drank their bubbly and played the game for a while until each person had drawn twice and removed two articles of clothing. Then the girl drew the card for which Junior and Lucky had been waiting on pins and needles. “You just won a special surprise,” she read off the card. She looked at each of them in turn, smiling. “What’s this one mean? Do I get a bonus?”
“It means this,” Lucky said. “Watch closely now.”
Junior felt his muscles draw up and get all tense, and he veritably held his breath. Lucky leaned down under the table and got a firm grip on the heavy candlestick. It weighed at least five pounds and was almost a foot tall. Pure sterling silver. A pair of them had cost his mom a bundle at Tiffany’s. Junior sat tense and rigid as Lucky stood up and held it out for Rosie to see.
“Oh, that’s so pretty. Is that my prize? Do I get to keep it?”
“Sure,” Junior said. “It’s all yours.”
When Rosie glanced over at Junior, looking absolutely delighted, Lucky smiled, too. He was now standing right behind her. Then he said, “Die, bitch!” He swung the candlestick down hard and smashed it against the side of her head. Blood came flying out, spattering crimson droplets all over the table and game cards. Rosie fell forward onto the tabletop, then collapsed sideways off her chair and went down onto the rug. She was moaning a little, barely conscious, already close to dead. Lucky stood over her, still breathing hard, his nostrils flaring, his muscles flexed. Junior could see the blood spatter all over his chest. Then he looked at Junior and laughed. He took one hand and smeared the girl’s blood around on his bare skin, as if he relished the feel of it. Junior backed away from the carnage and couldn’t stop staring at the girl’s busted skull. He could see some of her brain, for God’s sake, and some sharp shards of her skull sticking out through her hair. It wasn’t a wig, after all. She was a true redhead. He supposed that was a good thing.
“Your turn, Junior. Just like we agreed.”
“She’s already dead, I think.”
“Don’t care. You have to do it, too. We agreed. Don’t be so squeamish.”
So Junior stood up and took the bloody candlestick out of Lucky’s hands. He hesitated a moment, and then he lifted it high over his head and brought it down on her like an axe splitting wood. After that, her head was nothing but a thatch of red hair and pulpy gore. The two boys stood side by side and stared down at Rosie’s body, both a bit shocked by what they’d just done. On the bright side, they had chosen a victim, and now she was dead and nobody was any the wiser. All they had to do now was dispose of the body and they’d be home free.
“Good job, Lucky,” he said, but his voice sounded shaky, and that embarrassed him.
Lucky gave a little butler’s bow. “We are gods now. We decree life or death.”
“I can’t believe we really did this.”
“Yeah, well, we did. Simple as pie. And you know what they say: the first time is always the hardest. Here’s to many more games.” They lifted their champagne flutes and clinked them together.
Feeling giddy, they started to laugh and staggered away from the dead body. Junior felt as if he’d released some kind of black-cloaked demon that had been lurking deep inside his soul since he’d been born. Lucky just looked pleased that they’d pulled it off. Fortunately, there were a lot more devils deep inside both boys, devils that would rise up and help them when they needed someone to die.
Junior became a bit more subdued after his initial elation faded. Actually, he felt a little nauseous when they wrapped her body up in a long plastic tablecloth they found in kitchen pantry. They shoved her into the trunk of the car and drove way up into the hills, ending up on Mulholland Drive.
There, in the darkness, with all the lights of the valley stretched out below them, they dragged her over to a steep incline thick with weeds and underbrush. Then Lucky put his boot on her back and shoved her off the cliff. They both watched the body roll and tumble down the deep ravine, wrapped up tightly in the tablecloth, the little candlestick token they’d taken out of their Detection game wiped clean of fingerprints and adhered with superglue inside her closed right fist. It was a little flourish they’d agreed upon, a tiny clue for the cops to fret over. But who were they kidding? Nobody would ever find Rosie’s body. They had done their first victim, done her well and got away clean. Boy, did that ever feel good.