Chapter Eighteen

 

7:45 p.m. EST

 

His job to deliver the video to Channel 10's news director finished, Russ Parker had stopped at the Hole-in-One lounge for a Budweiser. After enjoying a baseball game, several cold drafts, an order of nachos, he drove to the Miami Beach Ocean Resort on Collins Avenue. There, he went to his room, discarded his black wig and mustache and changed into his swimsuit. After applying a coating of sun screen, he took the elevator and stopped at the front desk. He deposited his cash, fake Russ Parker ID and car rental papers in a safe deposit box. Smiling, he ambled pool side.

Feeling on top of the world, he spent the late afternoon sunning, ogling male anatomy, drinking gin and tonic. A conversation struck in the hot tub with a cheeky looker, Phil, they went back to Russ’s room. Half-hour later, Phil’s nude thighs straddling Russ’s chest, the last thing Russ saw was a glint of steel. The last thing he heard was his sucking blood and air through his sliced trachea.