The Saturday After the Flight
I caught an Uber to the airport early, just to be sure Trent wasn’t skipping out of the conference early and catching a different flight. On the way, I texted Robert:
Conference is over, heading to the airport. Going to Atlanta with Trent!
Another breadcrumb. He wrote back asking for more details, but I ignored it. At the airport, I had to be Stephanie to get through security and show my ID, but I could morph into anyone after that. I wore her nice clothes and carried her purse, lurking in the corners of the ticketing area so Trent wouldn’t see me.
At last he came in. He wasn’t paying attention to anyone, striding to the security line with his bag, the one that now contained women’s hair and blood. He had a garment bag too, and I knew it was filled with suit coats, one of which had two pairs of women’s underwear with his semen on them. I waited until he was through security before heading in myself. The guard looked at my boarding pass and ID and nodded me through with no issues at all. Another one fooled.
Once I passed the metal detectors, I hoofed it to the nearest restroom and did my switcheroo again in the handicap stall—gone was Stephanie’s clothing, and on was mine, including the baseball cap and glasses. I doused my eyes in a crazy purple eyeshadow that made them look different, but this time I left my lower face alone. I had a different idea: a mask. Thank you, COVID. I had seen them for sale in the airport gift shop. That would help me disguise myself from Trent on the flight. I bought several for good measure and felt safer the moment I put one on. Only my eyes peeked out from under the baseball cap.
At the gate, I lingered back so Trent wouldn’t see me and boarded near the end again, keeping my eyes down as I walked the jetway. I heard his voice as I was passing his first-class row, booming as he talked to the woman in the seat next to him. He was bragging about returning home from an “exclusive conference.” Oh, I couldn’t wait for what was about to hit him.
When we landed in Atlanta, I followed him through the airport from a safe distance to the Uber/taxi-pickup area. As he got into his Uber, I grabbed a cab and said, “Follow that car, but don’t be obvious, please. I’ll make it worth your while.” The driver barely nodded and pulled behind Trent’s Uber.
On the way, I texted Robert again:
Landed, heading to his place.
Then I texted Raven and told her I needed her to be ready to go.
Dress sexy and come with some sort of pill to knock a 6' 2" kind of burly guy out, make him so sick he needs to stay in for two days
I have just the thing
I asked the taxi driver to drop me a half block down from where Trent was getting out so that he wouldn’t notice me; then I crept up to his building and pinged Raven the address. Taking out Steph’s phone, I snapped a few pictures of the exterior that I would use to prove I was here.
There was a bench down the block, and I sat and waited for Raven, trying desperately not to chew my nails so I wouldn’t look nervous. She came in an Uber thirty minutes later, a black leather coat over a tight white blouse showing her cleavage, with bright pink lipstick on. She had always been pretty, but she looked extra hot. I gave her a long hug.
“I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” I gushed. “Thank you.”
“You got it, sister. Where’s the creep?”
I pointed toward the condo.
“So you want me to follow him into a bar, pretend to hit on him, slip something into his drink that he’ll feel tomorrow, and get out of there, right? I don’t have to sleep with him, do I?”
“Oh, God, no, I wouldn’t do that to you,” I replied. “Yup, that’s it, that’s all you need to do.”
“Piece of cake, Jazzy,” she said. “Your passport is coming tomorrow.”
“You’re the best,” I said. “Here’s half the money. I’ll get you the other half when I get the passport.”
I reached into my purse, but she put her arm out and stopped me.
“Not here,” she hissed, glancing around. A man all dressed in purple and with a poodle in his arms was walking across the street. He looked at us and raised his eyebrows but kept going.
“You can pay me all at once,” she whispered.
Removing my hand from the bag, I tried to resume a casual pose. We waited longer. At least the time on the bench gave me a chance to catch up with my friend.
“So what are you doing now, Raven? Do you like Atlanta?”
“It’s like any place, good and bad. I do what I have to do to make money … and to keep out of jail,” she laughed. “Been there once. I will do anything not to go back, and I do mean anything. I’d turn in my own mother if I had to. It ain’t easy to make a living, but I find ways. Just gotta stay one step ahead of the feds, you know?”
“Amen to that,” I said, and we sat chatting on the bench for another few minutes. I told her about leaving Glenn and about stealing Stephanie’s identity. I stopped short of the full murder, but I told her I wanted to frame Trent for some things. She nodded.
Finally, Trent walked out. He had changed since the flight but still had his greasy-looking hair slicked back.
“There he is,” I hissed, grabbing her forearm. He turned right. “Let’s go!”
We stood up and followed him from a distance. It wasn’t very far. He went to a corner bar and walked in. I just knew he would do something like that. He wasn’t the type to stay home on a Saturday night and clearly was single, so I had a pretty good idea of what his night would entail.
“Got the pill?” I asked Raven as we got within a few storefronts of the place.
“Of course, I’m no amateur.” She grinned at me. “I’ll be out within an hour, that’s my prediction. Go find a motel, Jazzy. I’ll text you when it’s done.”
And she disappeared. It was getting dark and a little chilly, and a motel sounded nice. I found one nearby and called an Uber. It was just two minutes away, the joys of a big city, and I was settled into the motel in no time.
I had one more thing I needed to do the next day to complete my fictitious trip to Atlanta for evidence, so I couldn’t change my hair just yet. I set the hair dye next to the sink, though. That would be coming soon.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I nervously waited for Raven’s text. It took a little longer than an hour but not much.
Done. He’s going to be feeling like crap tomorrow. He won’t be leaving his bathroom, let alone his house. And you’re right, what a jerk. He wanted me to sleep with him tonight. Total flirt and loser.
You’re amazing. Thank you. One final favor. I need to take a few pictures around town to show that I’ve been here, but they have to be from behind. Can you help me tomorrow? Some sort of tourist place?
Centennial Olympic Park would be good. I can meet you there at noon. ALL the tourists go there, for what reason I don’t know. It’s just a stupid park with Olympic rings and a few fountains but it’s definitely Atlanta.
I hearted the message and said I would talk to her again the next day.