Chapter Five
Henry texted Susan Twilitter that he was running twenty minutes late and for her to order him a cheeseburger with sautéed mushrooms and a Coke, and that he would meet her at her booth. Susan didn’t know him as Henry Pollard, nor as Leslie Gorman, but as Howard Donner. He could’ve shown up on time since he had three hours to kill after killing Corey Freeman—time that he ended up spending at the Santa Monica Pier playing skee-ball and sitting on a bench looking out over the ocean—but he didn’t want to be seen walking into the restaurant with her. When he did show up at Susan’s booth, he was twenty minutes late on the dot, and the food had already been brought to the table. Susan seemed both relieved and surprised to see him, almost if she didn’t really believe he’d be coming, even though he had replied to three text messages from her assuring her each time that he was going to be there. It was sad in a way that she would be so worried about being stood up by the likes of Henry.
“You look like you didn’t believe I was really coming,” he said pleasantly, his thick lips twisted into a warm smile.
“What? No, not at all. I trust you, Howard. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you, that’s all. And I was worried that your food would get cold, but it was brought out only a minute ago.”
That was another reason Henry planned to be twenty minutes late. So that his food would already be at the table and the waitress wouldn’t see him with Susan. He scooted in next to her and peered at the small garden salad that sat untouched in front of her.
“Is that all you’re eating?” he asked. He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think that’s going to be enough. You’ll be needing your energy, especially with all the activity we have planned.”
She blushed at that and ran her hand down her flat belly as if she were smoothing out her shirt. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “After all, I have to watch what I eat so I stay attractive for you.”
“Ah heck, Susan, you could eat a dozen hot fudge sundaes and you’d be thin and beautiful.”
“You’re so sweet.”
“It’s the God’s honest truth.”
And it mostly was, although Henry stretched things with the beautiful comment. At forty-three, Susan was somewhere between slender and bony, with broomstick-thin legs and arms, barely any ass, and not much of a chest. Plums, at best, if he were being generous. Henry liked a woman to be more full-figured with some meat on their bones, like Sheila had been before the accident, and not have a boyish figure. Still, Susan did have a nice smile, and with her blonde hair, catlike brown eyes, freckles, and slightly upturned nose she could be very cute. Even with his gripes, she certainly rated significantly higher on the attractiveness scale than he ever would, and while she might not have been his ideal of feminine beauty, he could see how there’d be men out there who’d find her pretty, at least if they could overlook her barely ripe plums.
“How a pudgy schlub like me found someone so ridiculously hot and sexy is a mystery,” he said.
He was laying it on as thick as he was partly because of that miserable little salad she was going to be eating for lunch. A few leafs of wilted iceberg lettuce, three pieces of cucumber, a couple of shriveled and pathetic-looking slices of green pepper, and two cherry tomatoes. What a lousy thing to be having for your last meal. The thought of it saddened him, and made him want to be extra nice to her during her last few hours alive. He added, “And so youthful looking. Not a day over thirty. I swear to God.”
That one was a straight-out lie. Susan had her share of wrinkles, and with years of desperation seeped deeply into her flesh, she looked every bit her age. Still, it got her beaming, and she reached under the table and rested her hand on Henry’s thigh. Her smile turned wicked. “It’s so dark in here we could almost do the dirty deed right here without anyone knowing.”
The back room of the restaurant being kept so dark was one of the reasons Henry had chosen this place. Being able to slip in through the back door without being seen was another reason, and the parking garage half a block away that didn’t use security cameras was yet another. He and Susan had started dating three weeks ago, seeing each other secretly in dark restaurants and out-of-the-way places because Henry claimed he was preparing to divorce his wife, and that if his wife found out he was involved with her it could severely affect a settlement.
“Millions of dollars are at stake,” Henry had told her, which would be true if he was actually divorcing Sheila. “My lawyer is getting all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed, and as soon as he gives me the go-ahead, we’ll go public, but until then I’ve got to be extra careful.”
So far things had been mostly chaste between them. A stolen kiss, a quick embrace, held hands, that type of schoolyard thing. The last time they met, Susan had told Henry that she was ready for them to be intimate, and their plans for after they finished their late lunch were to go hiking in the Santa Monica Mountains to a hidden and isolated spot Henry knew about so that they could get intimate there. In a way, that was all going to be true. Henry was going to take her to a spot he’d found off a little-used trail, and he couldn’t imagine anything more intimate than what he was going to be doing to her. In many ways he regretted what was going to happen. Over the last three weeks he’d grown to like Susan quite a bit. She might’ve been a bit neurotic at times, but aren’t we all? Besides, she was a nice person, had a good heart, and if he was really looking to divorce Sheila, he could imagine himself becoming romantically involved even if she wasn’t physically his dream girl. Who was he to complain? He’d found out early in life that he was physically most girls’ cruel joke. There was even a minuscule chance he might’ve changed his plans for the afternoon if she had reprimanded him for calling himself a pudgy schlub, but as nice as she was she probably knew she couldn’t do that with a straight face. No, there were forces greater than himself at work here. The words “the things we do” whispered in his head.
He forced those thoughts out of his mind, and addressed Susan’s joke about consummating their relationship right there at the booth, saying, “Don’t tempt me. You’re going to give me a stroke with thoughts like that.” Then turning serious, he asked, “What do you see in me? You’re a beauty while I look like a big block of cheddar cheese that’s been melted in the sun. What are you doing with me?”
Calling her a beauty was an exaggeration, sure, but even with her barely ripe plums and nonexistent ass, most guys would rate her at least a six, while he’d be lucky to rate a two from any woman. She took her hand from his thigh so she could hold one of his thick meaty hands with both of hers.
“Howard, please, don’t ever say that about yourself. You’re the most gentle soul I’ve ever encountered, and you’ve got the kindest, most beautiful eyes. And you know what they say about the brain being the most powerful aphrodisiac? I’ve never met a man whose brain turned me on as much as yours.”
He had to fight hard to swallow back a giggle when she made that comment about his brain, and somehow he forced himself instead to simply nod. She let go of his hand, the two of them seemingly losing themselves in their private thoughts. While Henry chomped away on his cheeseburger smothered in sautéed mushrooms, he caught a glimpse of the intensity burning in Susan’s face, and noted the pinkish hue that was now coloring her cheeks. She really believed what she said, and he knew that she was deep in thought over what she was expecting to happen later that day. If only she had refuted his crack about himself resembling a block of melting cheese. That was one last lifeline he had thrown out to her, but it was too late now. What was going to happen was inevitable. As he masticated and swallowed the last remnants of his cheeseburger, he absently whispered to himself, “The things we do.”
“What was that?” Susan asked, a nervous eagerness burning in her eyes.
Henry smiled at her. “Just telling myself for the thousandth time what a lucky guy I am to have met you.”
She took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze. “What a sweetie you are. Ready to go on our adventure?”
Henry left thirty dollars on the table, which would more than cover their bill. “I’m going to hit the little boy’s room,” he said. “I’m parked in the garage next door. How about I meet you inside the pedestrian entrance?”
Susan smiled thinly at that. “So we’re not seen walking out of here together.”
“A necessary precaution, but just for a little bit longer. My lawyer’s promising me he’s going to have everything in order by next week.”
“Okay, okay, I understand.” Her look shifted subtly, becoming somewhat guarded, accusatory, “You’re not still sleeping with your wife, are you?”
That certainly came out of left field, and made Henry raise an eyebrow.
“No, that hasn’t happened in years, and I assure you will never happen again,” Henry said, which was the absolute truth.
Susan couldn’t deny the obvious truthfulness in Henry’s tone, and she accepted what he said. Whatever momentary doubt and distrust had surfaced vanished just as quickly. Henry gave her a warm smile as he left the booth and headed straight to the men’s room. For a long moment he stood in front of the mirror and grimly stared at the cruel joke genetics and the universe had played on him. Not that he looked grotesque or frightening. Instead he looked utterly harmless and also completely unappealing sexually. Like he could be any woman’s best friend, just not someone they’d ever have romantic thoughts about. It still amazed him that he’d ever found Sheila, or that Susan responded to him the way she did three weeks ago when he was out hunting for a potential victim and approached her while she sat on a bench by one of Santa Monica’s walking trails.
Once Henry felt that he had given Susan enough time to leave the restaurant, he washed his hands, splashed some water on his face, patted it dry, and then left to meet her at the garage. When he stepped outside, he took three steps and froze before he realized what he was doing. Things weren’t the way they were supposed to be. Susan stood on the sidewalk gabbing with a woman around her age. Or to be fair, the woman was the one gabbing with Susan.
Somehow this woman sensed Henry standing frozen in place, and turned to face him. Just as quickly, she looked back at Susan and when she caught her helpless expression, she made sense of the surprise she’d seen in Henry’s face and Susan’s reaction. Loudly enough for Henry to hear, she told Susan, “Caught you.” Then she turned and took several quick steps toward Henry and held out her hand.
“Gail Hawes,” she said introducing herself, her lips twisted into an amused grin. “You must be Susan’s new friend.”
Before Henry quite realized what he was doing, he took her hand and muttered that his name was Howard Donner.
“Pleased to meet you, Howard,” she said, obviously tickled pink with herself. “Well, I’ll leave you two to go off and do whatever it is that you have planned.”
She grinned from ear to ear as she nodded so long to Susan. Henry seemed incapable of movement, at least until this woman disappeared from sight, then he slowly lumbered forward. Susan waited for him, her expression brittle.
“I’m so sorry,” she said in a hushed voice. “Gail and I have known each other forever, and while we were sharing a bottle of wine a couple of days ago, I told her that I’ve been seeing someone special, but that we had to keep it secret for now. I also let it slip that we were going to be taking things to the next level soon. But I didn’t tell her your name or anything about you. I swear. She figured it out from our reactions.”
Henry tried to sort through this new development. Gail had stared straight into his face. She didn’t know his real name, but she’d be able to describe him to the police, and Henry had no doubt that it would be an accurate and detailed description. But still, it would be weeks, maybe much longer than that, before Susan’s body would be found, and even much longer after that before they’d be able to identify her, especially if animals got to her remains, so he should have more than enough time to take care of this Gail Hawes.
“I know how important it is to you to keep us secret for now,” Susan said. “I know how much it will cost you if your wife found out about us. But Gail’s one of my best friends. She’s not going to say anything to anyone. Your wife’s not going to find out about us from her. This really shouldn’t be a big deal, and it certainly shouldn’t interfere with our plans for today.”
Henry only half-listened to what Susan was saying. He realized he might not have nearly as much time to take care of Susan’s friend as he first thought. This woman might try calling Susan soon, maybe even later tonight, to find out how things had gone with her secret lover, and if she was unable to reach her she might try calling the police next.
“You look so troubled. Are you okay? Are we still doing this? If it will make you feel better, I can call Gail and make her swear she won’t breathe a word to anyone.”
Henry was so absorbed in his thoughts that he had momentarily forgotten about Susan keeping pace alongside of him. They’d reached the pedestrian entrance for the parking garage, and he held the door for her. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Forget about all the time he’d spent searching for such a perfect victim as Susan, there was also the three weeks he’d invested in her and the perfect plan he came up with, and he hated the idea of throwing that all away. He still had time to sort it out in his mind. It was going to take them at least two hours to reach the isolated spot in the Santa Monica Mountains where he’d been planning to kill her. Once they were alone up there he’d make a decision. Maybe divine inspiration would strike him.
“No need to do that, Susie darling,” he said. He took a deep silent breath through his nose and let it out slowly, his facial muscles relaxing and leaving him smiling in an unconcerned, pleasant way. “We’ll go on our hike as planned, and I’m sure everything will work out just fine.”