Chapter Five

Alison was having a nightmare. It was one of those dreams that seemed so real that she could describe every object in every room, the story in detail, know how she felt in the dream and how everyone else in her dream felt, too.

In this dream, she was herself but pretending to be someone else, someone else named Deborah. She had to make this man, whom she had never met before, believe she was trolling the web for sex. His name was David Florio, and he was a very, very bad man. She didn’t know why, she only knew that it was so. She was to get him to invite her over for dinner, and once there, she was going to kill him.

Alison set up a fake profile for a sexy bombshell called Deborah on Dare to Dream, a new online dating service. She invented Deborah to catch him for her. The site promised her that all her desires could be fulfilled if she was willing to take a chance. She was.

The bait was irresistible; she made damn sure of that. Deborah was a cute blonde with an athletic body type who enjoyed hiking and exploring her wild side. And he only lived one town away, in East Brunswick.

“I hope I’m not calling too soon. I mean,” Deborah purred, “you did give me your number and all...”

“Nnn...No!” David stuttered. “I’m glad you did. I wanted you to call. The sooner, the better.”

Good. He’s anxious, eager.

“So,” David gulped, “your profile said you like to explore your wild side. How exactly do you go about doing that, Deborah?”

“I think spontaneity and surprise are the real keys to exploring one’s wild side. Don’t you agree, David?”

“Absolutely, Deborah. May I call you Debbie, or do you have another nickname you prefer?”

Why am I so unbelievably angry with him? Who is he? Oh, well, anything can happen in a dream, Allie, just go with it. Skewer the slob.

Deborah found herself aroused by the phone conversation, but she was also confused by it. Was it lust or murder that turned her on? She had never actually committed murder, but as the voice said, it was a dream.

Why not go ahead and do it just to see what it feels like? I know it isn’t real and there won’t be any price to pay. What was it that the Silver Man promised? Oh yes, he said that killing a thief, rapist, or murderer was a public service. David must be one of the three. It is my duty to protect and defend the Collective.

“Uh, Deborah, are you still there? Hello…”

Deborah cleared her throat. “I was just thinking about what kind of mischief we might get into.”

“I can’t wait to see you. Would you like to come over for a quiet dinner at my place tomorrow night? I’m quite a gourmet.”

“You’re a fast worker, too, aren’t you? I just hope you don’t do everything as fast…” Deborah was delighted with her own power.

Alison heard Deborah’s breathy voice fondling David over the phone. She could taste Deborah’s peppermint-flavored lipstick and smell her trashy perfume.

I don’t want to do this. He never hurt me; why should I hurt him?

The voices sang to her, rising up inside her and filling her up until she heard nothing but their song.

I have no heart and no conscience. I am revenge. This man wants to hurt me; I have no choice. I will finish what they have told me to do.

“Email me your address and time you want me – for dinner that is. Or shall we say, dessert?” She let him hear a throaty growl. Then she hung up, leaving him panting on the other end of the line.

Alison didn’t have a car, but hey, it was a dream. She’d make Jeannie drive her there.

***

Twenty-Four Hours Later

Alison fast-forwarded to the next night. While dressing, the voices commanded Alison to remember the way her father hurt her mother just because he could. Alison could see her now, curled up in a protective ball, afraid for her life, and begging him to stop. She could hear him shout, “You’re only good for one thing and even that’s no damn good!”

It was then that Alison admitted to herself she hated men and that they frightened her. When she dreamed she was Deborah, though, she felt sure of herself and as strong as any of them. Deborah loved the thrill of the hunt, but enjoyed the conquest much, much more. She would snare him, but Alison would be the one to step in and finish him off.

***

It sputtered and stalled, but Jeannie’s car had done that a million times before. Alison muttered unintelligibly to herself. Jeannie stopped turning the key, and glared at her. “O.K., so my car’s not new and doesn’t have a fancy, push-button ignition.”

“It sounds like it doesn’t have an engine. How can you ride around in this death trap?”

“I have a better question. How can you? Why don’t you cough up the money to have it fixed, your highness?”

“Sorry, Jeannie. I’m nervous, I guess.”

Jeannie shook her head, and her face softened. “I’m sorry too. I’m nervous for you. I feel like I’m going on the date, too.”

Jeannie tried the ignition again. Nothing…

“Just in case things don’t go so well, I’m counting on you to get me out of there. Look, your car won’t make it home and back again to pick me up. If I buy you some take-out and a bottle of wine on the way, would you be willing to park the car in his neighborhood and wait for me until it’s time to leave? For me? For love and adventure?”

“Oh, brother! Well…what will be our signal be if you need to make a hasty retreat?”

“How about a text?”

Jeannie’s eyes widened at the thought of adventure until she remembered it would only be if things went wrong. “O.K., text me the letter ‘E’ if you need to escape.”

Alison gave her a final instruction. “Then park a house or two up the street, and I’ll meet you there.”

Jeannie sighed and turned the ignition. This time the engine turned over. She hoped the heap of crap would make it there and back.

***

Ringing a doorbell had never been so exciting. Not even on Halloween.

“Hi, I’m glad you got here O.K.” David flashed her a winning, whiter-than-white smile.

Deborah extended her hand. David grabbed it and pulled her into an embrace. This wasn’t going to be as easy as Alison had hoped.

“I got here just fine.” Deborah’s eyes roamed the apartment. It was as roomy!

He’s either very successful or a thief.

David was off to the kitchen. “I have to check on dinner! Have a seat in the living room.”

He pivoted and whisked a bottle of red wine off the half-counter that served as a barrier between the kitchen and the dining room table. This was where she thought she might do it- right on top of that counter, with all its little bottles and containers swept to the floor.

“What do you do, Dave?” Deborah was in charge again. She wandered around the living room lightly fingering the brick-a-brack.

“A little of this and a little of that. I.T. stuff, mostly.” He tried his best to look self-deprecating.

Deborah loved it. She leaned into his ear and tickled it with her breath. His erection was instant. “I bet you’re a wiz, David. I just love successful men. They make me go all loosey-goosey. Would you mind pointing me in the direction of the bathroom, honey bunny? I just need a moment to freshen up.”

David was on full alert. It looked like he was going to have dessert first. “It’s the second door on the left.”

The handbag she carried was stuffed, but she wasn’t worried about that looking suspicious. All men knew that women carried everything from first aid to camping tents in their handbags. Deborah allowed Alison to inventory her handbag.

Smokes. Check.

Lighter fluid. Check.

Candle. Check.

Knock out drops…check. David must eat and drink very soon.

“I’m back.” Deborah stood behind David, watching him cook. The spatula flew across the room.

I am sooo liking this power trip! I should let Deborah out more often.

“Care for a smoke? I have some righteous weed with me.”

“Great!”

David reached for the joint. He was putty in her hands. He knew it, and she knew it, too.

“So, tell me, Davie, why on earth are you available?”

“She…she got sick. It was fast.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Deborah took a hit, but Alison decided David must have abandoned his sick girlfriend. This had to be his crime.

“I could ask the same thing. I bet you get all kinds of invitations.” David opened the oven door.

“So many invitations, so little time…” Deborah threw her head back and giggled. Alison, buried deep inside of her, was full of envy.

“Well, for better or worse, the first course is ready.” David grabbed a towel to lay over his right forearm. Then he bowed. “Right this way, madam.”

Alison was depressingly unimpressed.

Oysters! Could he have been any more predictable?

Deborah raised her wine glass and sipped. “Oooh. It’s wonderful!” She licked her bottom lip delicately.

David served her the best looking piece of chicken on the platter. He spooned vegetables with sauce onto her dish. “Don’t be polite. Eat like you mean it.” He stabbed a leg as if it might jump off his plate. “This is the best part of cooking.”

Deborah’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, you’re not done cooking, yet, David. I’m going to light your fire. How about I pour us another glass of wine?” She picked up the two glasses and went into the kitchen. With her back to him, she emptied the contents of a vial of liquid into his glass and returned to the table with it. They talked and laughed and sipped.

David emptied his glass, and asked for another refill. They got up from the table and moved into the living room to relax. Within a few moments David’s speech became noticeably slurred. He slumped forward on his chair. Alison slid the joint into his mouth. His eyes were as glazed as the chicken had been.

David coughed after the first drag and spit out the joint. “God…my lungs feel like glue.”

“Oh, honey, are you all right?”

He shook his head from side to side.

I’ll take that as a ‘no’.

She placed her handbag on the table, unzipped it and removed her candle.

David seemed mildly curious.

“The neurotransmitters gamma- aminobutyric acid and glycine are starting to kick in, David, that’s all. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Imitating Deborah’s light teasing banter, she lowered the boom. “You wanted to go all the way tonight, didn’t you, baby? Your wish is my command. I think someone needs a…” She paused for emphasis, raising a lighter from her bag. “light.” David’s eyes widened but that was all.

The candle was hard to stuff down David’s throat. His paralysis made it damn near impossible, but she managed it. Pieces of food and liquid gushed up as she pushed it further down. David’s eyes had rolled to the back of their sockets and his lids fluttered furiously as if they could carry him away on the wind.

“And now for the big finish…” Alison poured lighter fluid and the rest of his red wine down the front of his body, making his white shirt look like a candy cane. She blew David a kiss and torched him.

Trapped inside the roaring flames, David appeared translucent. The fire consumed him quickly, but it must have been a long, agonizing death. Alison, rooted to the spot, looked on in morbid fascination.

I wonder if it’s morning yet…

She stacked the plates and glasses into the dishwasher, just in case the fire didn’t burn every trace of her D.N.A., made a quick inspection of the apartment for any other evidence she may have left behind, and slinked out the back door before the blaze set off a fire alarm. Dressed in black, with black stockings, black shoes, and a black coat, she walked around the block in the silence of night.

In fifteen minutes, Jeannie picked her up. “Come on, spill.”

Alison laughed. “It was one hot night.”

The car chugged along Ashbury Lane in the first chill night of autumn, its taillights bright and merry. A tall, young man with dark hair read the license plate before it was swallowed up and gone.