Quiet Servitude Pt. 06a3
Keywords: 06a3, Pt., Quiet, Servitude,
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*Author's Notes*
"Before reading this story please be aware that that some people would label this work as obscene and pornographic in nature. It contains several themes including transgendered, homosexual and lesbian issues in addition to graphic sexual descriptions.
To make the action flow more freely and the stories light-hearted, I have taken a socially naïve approach and have not included the usual protections that intelligent people would choose such as condoms, birth control and out safeguards against sexually transmitted diseases. Such risky behavior as those exhibited by the characters of this story should not be followed.
If any of these topics make you uncomfortable please look elsewhere.
If this sounds like a story you might find interesting, enjoy.
With the exception of the main character Stacy, after whom I modeled a lot of my own psyche wanting to capture how I would feel in situations developed in the story, all other characters and circumstances are completely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or places is completely coincidental.
NOTE:
Quiet Servitude Pt. 01
Quiet Servitude Pt. 02
Quiet Servitude Pt. 03
Quiet Servitude Pt. 04
Quiet Servitude Pt. 05 \
Quiet Servitude Pt. 06
Quiet Servitude Pt. 06a1
Quiet Servitude Pt. 06a2
Quiet Servitude Pt. 06a3"
* * * * *
Chapter 20 - Friday, October 8th - 11:03 a.m.
The phone continued to ring, the noise echoing through the home. After a minute, the noise stopped and the house returned it quiet state, save for the breathing of the furnace that kicked on every so often to keep it at the perfect temperature for the occupants who would never return again.
"That's strange." Christa said quietly to herself as she dialed another number.
The ringing was different, but the result the same. No one had answered at Debbie's house and she didn't answer her cell phone which never left her side.
Christa set the phone back in the cradle of her hotel room and would call again later after a refreshing dip in the pool, just outside the balcony from where she sat in shade enjoying the hot afternoon. She rose to her feet and was halfway to the door when her own phone began to chime.
"It's about time!" she smiled, knowing that Debbie wasn't about to let a delicious week of torturing her ex-husband go by. She snatched it up wanting to hear all the delicious details of what had transpired since their last call.
"Hey Deb!" she laughed into the phone, knowing Debbie was the only one who knew where they were staying at the moment. There was no reply from the other end of the phone, only silence. She was about to hang up when she heard a weird gurgling sound coming from the other end and a raspy voice began to speak weakly.
"Christa?" the voice croaked as though about to expire. "He shot Glenn . . . he's dead . . . I can't believe he shot me!"
It sounded like Debbie but she couldn't be sure. The only person who had this number was her as she clutched the phone, wondering what to say?
"Who? . . . Who did it Debbie? Who shot you?" she pleaded, knowing in her heart who 'he' had to be.
There was nothing but an uncomfortable silence building on the other end of line.
"Damn it Debbie. Tell me who did it!" she literally screamed into the phone, tears building in her eyes.
And then a familiar voice, cold as rock, came on the line.
"Hello dear." I said. "Time again for our weekly call already? Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?"
Christa's heart seized in her chest, keeping her from taking anything but shallow breathes as she gasped for air and stars began to circle in her head.
"Cat got you tongue? That's understandable I suppose."
"What . . have you done?"
"I killed the bitch. What do you think I did? I couldn't put up with this hell you two were nice enough to create for me and I just thought I'd dish out a little payback so I popped them both. Look absolutely brutal here. Walls look like a God damn Jackson Pollack masterpiece bitch and I'm hoping to redecorate at your place in the near future. Ta ta." I said and hung up.
Christa couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Stacy has this number!" she exclaimed, her extended honeymoon suddenly coming to an end.
Then she heard the lock on the hotel room door click and her heart began to pound as she saw it swing open towards her and a person strut towards inside. Even though her eyes had seen it was Terry, whose real name was Jeff , her brain couldn't make the connection so quickly and he was almost to her when she felt the strength drain from her body, slumping to the bed, the phone still clenched in her white knuckled hand.
"He did it. . . ." she said, staring at her reflection in the black television screen.
"Who did it? Who did what?"
"Stacy. She killed Debbie and her husband!" suddenly springing to her feet, dropping the phone.
"She killed them?"
Christa started darting around the room throwing their belongings in their suitcases.
"Christa! Talk to me. Who was that on the phone?"
"Stacy. It was Stacy. She killed them both! We need to get out of here!"
"This is nuts. Even if she did, she can't get us here."
"She knows the number. She can find the hotel. We need to get home." She said, her face suddenly draining of color. "We'll need to switch apartments too, with no forwarding address. They have our address here when we registered. We'll have to leave there too."
Clothes continued to fly as they packed up without another word and changed before heading down to the lobby where Terry was checking them out. He was contemplating slipping the clerk a hundred dollar bill and try to get the info erased but even if a reservation is cancelled, the info still resided in the hotel's secure system.
"We can't remove the data from the system Sir and I can assure you that no unauthorized personnel have access to it either."
He nodded. They would have to move unless they wanted to keep looking over their shoulders. Maybe it was all a bluff they couldn't take the chance.
While he continued with their departure arrangements, Christa slipped off to the payphones and frantically fed it with all the loose change she could find. Dialing information, because 911 wouldn't work, she was connected with the police station a mile from the Hennessey household. The switchboard picked up the call a few seconds later.
"Hello. Yes. Hello. I need you to send an ambulance to 1266 Lincoln immediately. There's a chance there could be at least two gun shot victims at that house. Please. Just send someone now. Please."
"Ma'am. Please calm down. Let's start with your name."
Christa hesitated, unsure what she should do.
"I can't tell you that but please, can you just send someone."
This time there was a hesitation from the other end of the line.
"I can assure you ma'am that there isn't anyone there. Everything is alright now."
"Please. You don't understand."
"I do ma'am. The tragic murder/suicide that occurred there yesterday was shocking to us all. Most of us new Glenn and his wife and it will take a while to sink in."
"Yesterday?" Christa asked, now thoroughly confused.
"Where are you calling from ma'am?" the police operator asked.
Suddenly aware that the seconds were ticking away and that the police would know her location, she hung up the phone and walked quickly towards the front door where she met up with Terry and the luggage. Christa stopped when she heard the payphone ring behind her. Fearing that someone might answer it and see her, she slipped on her sunglasses and the pair slipped melted quickly into the crowd.
I hung up the receiver of the pay phone at the bus stop and smiled with extreme satisfaction. There was no intention on my part to track anyone down at the moment but knowing the number that Hal had provided prove irresistible. It wasn't much, but if scaring her was enough to keep me going, then it was worth it.
The clock over my shoulder was nearing 11:30 and my next bus was getting ready to leave from it's terminal in Chicago. The Windy City was a large bussing hub and no one would have a clue on whether or not I had back-tracked to the south-east, turned to the south-west or headed for the Great Plains. I climbed on the bus and headed off on the next leg of my journey.
Chapter 21 - Friday, April 1st - 10:45 p.m.
I was uncomfortable in the strange bed but couldn't roll over. I kicked off a reading light on the desk next to me and felt the sleeping pill finally starting to kick in, my breathing becoming more regular and shallow. The tendrils of sleep began to tickle my brain as the worries of the day began to fade away.
"Your nurse friend just came out on break and confirmed that she's inside." Terry said as he stared at the small, brick building from his perch under a nearby tree. From his vantage point, he could see the entrance to the medical facility as only a few employees came and went this late at night.
"She actually went through with it?" Christa asked.
"Clip and snip she said. Stacy, or should I say Amanda Taylor went through surgery this morning and now has an 'innie' instead of an 'outie'."
Terry could almost imagine her nodding as the silence grew on the call.
"What do you want me to do?" he finally asked.
He listened for a few seconds.
"Yup. I'm on it. Call you in a few."
He snapped the phone closed.
I had been asleep but something had brought me around, much to my dismay. The pill had calmed me down but now that I was a awake again, it would have just the opposite affect. I was feeling groggy and confused but fidgety and unable to sleep at the same time. I was determined to get back to dreamland even with the voices of passing nurses roaming the hallway right outside my room. They poked there head in occasionally to check on me but something was different as the door to my room opened silently and someone slipped inside, keeping the room light off. My head swung over in that direction but my gaze was blurred and it was too dark to see anything. I could sense movement coming towards me but no one spoke and the room was still dark.
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Keywords: 06a3, Pt., Quiet, Servitude,