The Keystroke Killer Page 9

  “Anything for you. We still on for tonight?”

  “Something came up.” Matthew looked at his bulging crotch. “Just getting a quick burger and off to bed. It’s been a whacked up kind of day.” He strode toward the front entrance and entered. “Yea. The Alley Cat. Maybe tomorrow night. Talk at you later.” The door shut behind him.

  Smoke filled the dark bar. Madame Laveau, a dark-skinned heavy-set woman, accompanied by a blonde haired male piano player, belted the blues from the stage. Her voice was deep and raspy, and her long thick black hair appeared to be deep blue beneath the stage lighting. “The next song is Dead Man’s Bone by Gypsy Elise.” The keyboardist played the song’s intro.

  Matthew entered and looked around for his date. Upon not seeing her, he sat at the bar.

  Alex, the bartender, poured a draft beer and brought it over to him. “You look like you need this. How’d your visit with that psycho go?”

  “Things got out of hand at the end.”

  “Imagine that. Explains the bruise.”

  “If you think this looks bad, you should see the other guy.”

  “I’ll pass. Any interesting cases?”

  “Now that you mention it, ever heard of Ms. Ima Star?”

  “If you’re from here, you’ve heard of her. What’s up?”

  “Oh, a bunch of queens disappeared from the Quarter and she wants me to find out why. Where’s the blonde that came in wearing a short black mini dress?”

  “You mean Roxy?”

  “Is that her name?”

  Alex pointed to toward the restrooms. “Incoming.”

  Matthew looked over his shoulder at the blonde. She approached him, placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a peck on the cheek. “You must be Matthew? That’s if that’s your real name.”

  “It’s my real name. What’s yours?”

  “Roxy.”

  “That’s if that’s your real name.”

  “What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?”

  Matthew nodded and waved to Alex. “Whatever she wants as long as it’s not champagne. We’re not there in our relationship.”

  “What will the lady have?”

  “A Cosmo.”

  “One Cosmo on the way.”

  Matthew’s thoughts were elsewhere as Madame Laveau ended her set. “I’m taking a short break and will be back in twenty.” She placed her microphone on the stand and headed to Roxy. “Roxy, good to see you again.”

  “You too. This is Matthew. Matthew, meet the one and only Madame Laveau.”

  Matthew lifted his head and gazed at Madame Laveau’s chestnut brown eyes which sent chills ricocheting across her spine. Her forehead wrinkled; her eyes widened.

  Roxy noticed her reaction. “What is it?”

  Not breaking her eye connection to Matthew, Madame Laveau stepped closer to Matthew. “I sense great despair. There’s an evil presence around you.”

  Her statement confused him. I have to get away from this fortune teller. He placed his hand on Roxy’s shoulder. “It’s time to get out of here.”

  Roxy took an extended deep breath as Alex placed her red blush cocktail in front of her.

  “She’ll take a go cup.” Matthew’s tone authoritative, rubbed Roxy the wrong way.

  Alex poured the drink into a plastic cup as Matthew chugged the rest of his beer.

  “Don’t leave on my account.” Madame Laveau deepened her gaze. “It’s only an observation.”

  “I’m not. I’m ready to go.” Matthew scooted the bar stool back scraping it across the floor. He motioned for Roxy to leave as he headed for the exit. Roxy waved to her friend and followed Matthew. He held the door open for her and they left together.

  Alex placed a glass of ice water in front of Madame Laveau. Her eyes fixated onto his. “How well do you know him?”

  “He’s been coming about five years. He drinks his sorrow away.”

  “It’s more than sorrow. Someone from the other side is trying to make contact.”

  Matthew and Roxy hustled to the Ford Taurus. She was disappointed as she expected something a lot nicer considering the money he paid upfront. “You want to do it here?”

  “Get in. I’m taking you to my apartment.”

  “That’ll be extra.”

  “Fine. I don’t give a damn.”

  Matthew escorted his date to the passenger side and opened her door.

  “I see you haven’t forgotten your manners.”

  “Manners have nothing to do with it. Get in the car. I need to get the hell away from here.” Matthew shut the car door once Roxy sat, hurried to the driver’s side, got in and slammed the car door shut.

  “So, how old is your car?”

  “Does it matter? It runs.” He started the engine, eased out of the parking space and proceeded toward the gated exit. He paused and waited for the gate to lift. “Smile, you’re on Candid Camera.” He put on his Falcon Ti sunglasses.

  Confusion grappled Roxy’s face. “Not sure what that means, but okay.” She flashed him an appeasing grin. What is his state of mind right now?

  Matthew drove south on Veterans Boulevard in dense traffic. “Deedra, play This is the End by the Doors.” The song began. “There’s nothing better than Morrison rambling about the end.” Matthew held a bad boy sort of grin as he bobbed his head to the rhythm of the song. How apt the song proved for the night’s activities elsewhere in the city. Matthew lip synced to Morrison’s vocals. “This is the end, beautiful friend. This is the end, my only friend, the end.”

  A paranoid part of Roxy emerged. Is this the end for me? The thought frightened her. “What is it about this song you like? I find it kinda depressing.”

  “It’s the tone. He was depressed. I’m depressed.” His mouth tightened.

  “Well, now I’m depressed.” She waited for a response. But instead, their conversation ended until they reached Matthew’s apartment complex.

  ***

  “This is where I live. Shall we?”

  “Why not? As long as it isn’t the end of me.”

  “Don’t worry. I catch serial killers. I’m not one of those sick bastards.”

  “I guess I should find comfort in that.”

  Matthew opened the front door of his apartment. “After you.” He extended his hand.

  Roxy stepped inside and looked around. Dirty dishes filled the sink. Three empty Chinese containers lay on the kitchen counter and an empty pizza box graced the coffee table. “You must be into thrift shops.”

  “What?”

  “Your furniture. It looks like you got it from a local thrift shop.”

  “I haven’t lived here long. Want a drink?”

  “Sure, what do you have?”

  “Two choices. Warm beer or tap water.”

  “I see you enjoy the finer things in life.”

  “This isn’t the Garrick five star hotel with robotic room service. Warm beer or water?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “Warm beer it is.”

  Matthew retrieved two cans of Abita beer brewed by a local distillery. “Want a glass?”

  “No. The can will be fine.”

  “Meet me in the bedroom.”

  Maybe he’ll be a one and done type of guy.

  He unbuttoned his plaid shirt as they approached his bedroom. Just before he reached the unmade bed, he threw his shirt aside onto a pile of soiled laundry. By the time she reached the door, he’d already removed his jeans.

  Matthew climbed into bed. “Undress. Undress slowly; or, does that cost extra?” I like her.

  “It’s part of the paid package. Got any music?” Roxy sensually swayed standing at the foot of his bed waiting on further instructions.

  “Deedra, play Al Green.”

  “I’ll Get Next to You album has commenced.”

  “Deedra, lower the volume.”

  “The volume is lowered. Is it to your liking Matthew?”

  “Don’t you get tired of Deedra repeating everything
you say?”

  “Sometimes it’s the only conversation I have. I get tired of being alone. Now strip.”

  “Matthew, please do not ignore me. Is the volume to your liking? I can reprogram it more to your specification.”

  “Deedra, it’s fine. Thank you.”

  Roxy wiggled as she slithered her hands across her breasts. “Your Deedra is bossy.”

  Matthew closed his eyes. The tension left his body melting deep into the bed as he listened to the lyrics.

  She removed her dress over her head and continued to strip. “You paid to watch. It’s easier with your eyes open.”

  Matthew opened his eyes. Roxy danced wearing her black lace bra, black satin panties and her red platform shoes to the song Tired of Being Alone liquid in her movements to the musical beat. Her musicality oozed from every pore highlighting her sensual movements as her skin glistened from the glitter lotion she put on earlier.

  By the smile of sheer pleasure across Matthew’s face, she entertained him.

  The longer the song played, the more sexual the private dance became. She stroked her golden hair and glided her fingers across her perky double-D breasts to taunt him. She slid her left hand over her stomach and stopped short of her lace thong.

  “Don’t stop there, remove them. Just take your time.”

  Roxy made the tease more of an arousal for him. Her end game to decrease the time of actual skin to skin contact made total sense. More tease, less time spreading her legs wide opened. She learned that at the ripe age of fourteen. Her left leg raised, and she placed her red platform shoe on the end of the bed. She arched her back thrusting her ass out.

  Matthew took a deep breath relinquishing his distress as she delayed the inevitable by continuing her seductive dance.

  Desire burned deep inside Matthew as his hard on tented the dark blue sheet.

  “I’d give anything to know what you’re thinking.” She teased him with her sensual dance. “Anything.”

  His horny grin amplified along with his breaths. “How about, blow me?”

  “One blow job coming your way.”

  Matthew lustfully watched the seductress as his eyes gleamed in anticipation.

  Roxy removed her panties, threw them at his face and removed her bra, which expressed her seductress skills. Still wearing her platform red heels, she positioned herself on the end of the bed and crawled toward him like a cat searching for prey. She straddled over him and brought her face inches from his. She puckered her pink glossy plump lips, blew him a kiss and leaned close to his left ear. “You want me?”

  Matthew’s heart raced, and his temperature rose pretending to ignore her question.

  “Do you want me?” She licked his unshaven cheek. She blew air out from her puckered lips as goosebumps emerged on Matthew’s hardened six-pack body.

  The longer she took, the more money she earned. “You’re such a complicated man. I find you rather intriguing.”

  Is this part of her seduction? He took a deep breath. “There’s nothing complicated here. I’m one horny bastard that doesn’t commit.”

  She clutched his cock and massaged it. She slid against him as her breasts tickled his chest until her mouth lingered over his shaft. Again, she puckered her lips and blew warm air. His throbbing flesh hardened and pulsated between her fingers. She took a deep breath and surrounded his stiff flesh using her moist lips and sucked hard.

  Matthew orgasmed after thirty seconds.

  Half an hour later, Matthew slept restlessly as Roxy stared starry-eyed at the moon.

  Matthew mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and whimpered.

  She looked at him, shook her head and combed her fingers through his hair to comfort him.

  “Such a tortured soul.” Madam Laveau was right. There is evil around you.

  ***

  Blaze sat on her couch watching KWNC news while her Dimension laptop lay beside her. She plopped her feet onto the coffee table and sunk deep into the sofa.

  “In tonight’s news, Congressman Tom Thompson and Louisiana’s Attorney General, Janice Bennett, married in a private ceremony today in Las Vegas.” Samantha Breland’s eyes followed the teleprompter. “The wedding announcement came unexpected as their relationship was unknown to the public. We at KWNC wish the couple a happy and fruitful marriage. Now over to George Newland.”

  “In other news, famous drag queen Ima Star held a press conference on the steps of the Saint Garrick Hotel. Live from Magazine Street, Star informed KWNC that several of her colleagues have gone missing. She engaged the services of Hammer and Snead Private Investigation firm. According to Star, Jody Pasteur, or better known as the drag queen Anna Conda, disappeared after performing at the openly gay bar and restaurant Fleur De Lis Country Club. This missing person case follows seven college women’s deaths at the hands of the Sorority serial killer. A security guard found the latest victim, Phyllis Cantrell, on the campus of Loyola University. The serial killer posed each victim leaning against a tree and placed an open psychology textbook across their lap. Each victim pledged to the Greek sorority Alpha Gamma Kappa. Anyone with any information call the missing persons hotline listed below.”

  “Deedra, turn off the television.”

  “Turning off the television. Would you like for me to start your music playlist?”

  “No Deedra, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight Blaze. Sleep well. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

  Blaze retrieved her laptop and began a D-Global search. She typed in the search bar, “New Orleans Serial Killers.”

  ***

  Morty strapped an ebony leather three inch spike-studded shock collar around Anna’s neck and attached it by a four foot chain to the stripper pole in the middle of the shed. Duct tape fortified her mouth making it impossible for her to speak.

  Cher’s song Dark Lady played low in the background.

  Close to the metal cage that once held Anna, Morty sat naked on a rusty timeworn aluminum tan folding chair. However, another captive, an unconscious brunette took her place in the kennel. Silver duct tape bound her mouth, wrists and ankles. A hole through the middle of the tape across her mouth secured a feeding tube down her throat. High in the corner a video camera broadcasted the live event before the auction began.

  “Now dance!” Morty masturbated to the rhythm of the song.

  Anna did what Morty commanded and moved to the deep bass beat.

  “That’s it. Show me what you got.” He snorted between his carnal pleasured wails which sent chills down her spine. “Don’t stop.”

  Anna shivered because of the sinful words and sounds her captor elicited. Is he telling me not to stop dancing or is he speaking to himself?

  He moaned louder on the verge of exploding.

  Hang on girl. Don’t let the bastard control you.

  “Keep fucking dancing!” He jerked off faster out of breath.

  A lump in her throat formed as she stared wrathful at the floor humiliated and continued to dance. Anna glanced at Morty’s recent captive in her former cage knowing the girl’s future. She glowered at him. You deserve to die. I’ll kill you when I get the chance.

  “That’s it.” He moaned in his own gratification as his hand jerked quicker up and down his shaft. Morty bolted from the chair, lifted Anna’s gown, penetrated his penis into her naval and continued to hump her until he ejaculated. She tried to fight her way out of his hold, but he proved too strong of a match. He finished pleasuring himself as he grunted and rested his head between her breasts.

  Anna closed her eyes as she flinched desiring to escape. Please kill me. I’d rather die.

  Morty grabbed her gown at the shoulders, ripped it from her body and threw it onto the cage. He stepped back to evaluate her like a rancher adding to his herd stroking his chin. “It’s strictly business. Don’t take this personally. Let me see what he’s paying for.”

  Anna recoiled dreading his touch. I’m a dead man if he discovers my bits. She tried to speak through her tape
d mouth. “Please stop.”

  “No need to talk. I only want to see. Now pull off your panties.”

  Anna shook her head infuriating Morty. “Remove your panties or I’ll cut them off.” Morty toddled to the work bench and retrieved a pair of sharpened hedge shears.

  Anna froze in horror as her heart palpitated averting his angry glare. Tears streamed as Morty approached. Fear consumed her body.

  “Take off your panties or I will.” His voice sounded savage as he brushed a strand of hair from her creased forehead.

  Anna muttered an imprecation. Her cheeks burned red as her tears fell and her fingernails dug into her palms creating a crimson flow.

  “Why do you girls always choose to be difficult?” He cut her panties away from her body. “Now that didn’t hurt, did it?” His eyes bulged when he spotted Anna’s rod expecting a pink moist pearl. He gagged, choked and vomited. His face turned crimson. “You’re a vulgarity not worthy of living on this earth.” His eyes blazed at her like a fiery dragon.

  Anna’s spine stiffened. He’s going to butcher me. She buried her face into her shoulder to avoid his gaze of hate and disgust. Her lips quivered and her heart beat fast enough for her to become faint and breathless.

  Morty sucker-punched her rendering her unconscious as she fell to the floor. He knelt over her. His adrenaline fired as he squeezed her face and gouged her eyes using his strong stubby fingers as his thumbs pressed upward from her cheek bones. With the shears, he slashed her protrusion several times until it dismembered and splatted to the floor. For a few seconds, he stared disgusted at the meaty flesh. “Filth. You deserved to die.” He grabbed the meat package and tossed it onto the coals in the stove by the branding iron; his expression filled with dawning horror. Lorena Bobbitt looked like a girl scout selling mint cookies compared to Morty. His torture undiluted.

  As the eight inch flesh charred, the smell infused the torturous shed. The fresh captive in the cage moved as the aroma penetrated the air.

  Not wanting to take another chance on finding a woman dangling a package, he stormed over to the cage, unlocked it and jerked the woman by her ankles out of her confinement.

  The hard thrust jerked the duct tape and feeding tube from off. She tried to scream as tears flowed and she shivered.