Rochelle Campbell
Chapter 6
Dropping the v-shaped bread crust onto her white and blue-rimmed plate, Jennifer picked up her phone and did what she promised to do.
After three rings, he answered.
“Wow. I didn’t think you’d actually call.”
“Well, that let’s me know your batting average ain’t that good no matter what you say.”
He chuckled.
“Touché, Milady. How’s that headache?”
“Trying to ignore it. Coffee does nothing for it, does it?”
“Not a damn thing.”
The conversation faltered. After a pause, he blurted.
“Dinner? Tonight?”
Jennifer took a deep inaudible breath blinking back the fear and anxiety then punted.
“Can’t. Got things to do. Maybe next week? This is my first break in over a week and I need some downtime,” she said.
“Right. Downtime. What better way to unwind than to go out and relax? You know? I guess you don’t subscribe to that whole no-time-like-the-present thing, huh?”
His pressuring made her testy.
“What? You desperate, or something? Next week’s good for me.”
“You’re all cop, aren’t you? You ever take off that badge?”
She refused to feel admonished. “You’re avoiding the question, Chad.”
“Okay, next Friday evening. I’m off on Fridays. Will that work?”
She weighed her options. One date won’t kill me…will it? He’s cute, actually he’s very handsome. But, what if he’s some kind of closet freak, or a crackhead? He’s a bartender for Chrissakes! What kind of man is a bartender for his real job?
“You gotta answer a question for me.”
“What?”
“What else do you do? I mean besides bartending. You got other hustles?”
She could hear the smile as he answered.
“Not exactly a hustle. Do you remember I told you my family has a horse farm?”
“Yeeah...”
“Well, I sort of have a trust fund.”
“You don’t say. And this — trust fund — allows you to do what you want?”
“Pretty much.”
From his tone she surmised the rest.
“I get it. You ran with the horses – loved it – but hated the business side. You bailed ‘cause you were none too happy with your lot. Bargained for more time, didn’t cha? So, you could find yourself?”
He whistled. “Not bad. My Dad did want me to help with the business but his definition of help was to actually run it. I’m not the oldest. Dad’s offer caused an issue with Bart — the oldest. To prevent World War III and IV, I moved to New York saying I needed to experience the big City before I could settle down to a life on the farm.”
“Figured it went something like that. Any other siblings?”
“Is this the Inquisition?” When he received no reply he sighed and continued. “Yeah. It’s Bart, me, Jack-jack and Suzie.”
She snorted, “Jack-jack? Suzie? What were the dogs’ names – Rex and Fido?”
“Rude! What? Never had a nickname pinned on you?”
“Actually, no.”
“Don’t knock it – ”
“I know. Heard that one before. But, Jennifer Holden’s my name. Think it’ll stay that way for now.”
Only silence met her comment. It stretched a moment too long before she cleared her throat and spoke to end the awkwardness.
“So, next Friday. It’s settled. Where will we meet?”
“Will you allow me to pick you up? Or, do we have to meet in a neutral zone?”
Jennifer couldn’t help herself. A sunny smile brightened her face and colored her next statement. “Even if we met in a neutral zone, I think you’d do something to attempt to sweep me off my feet. I’ve never been wooed by a cowboy before…”
“Horseman. We don’t do cows. At least…not anymore. It’s a long story.”
“See? I was right. There were cows in the picture!”
“But — you know what? Never mind. I’ll be whatever you want me to be as long as you let me take you to dinner. I’ll never wear chaps though!”
The tension eased away and they both chuckled.
“Okay, I’ll never request that of you. And you can never request that I not travel with my weapon.”
“That came out of left field.”
“I’m a cop. I never leave home without my piece. You need to know that so if you’re not comfortable you can let me know now.”
“Is this how you scare men off? ‘Cause it’s not working.”
Shit. Thought it would work. “No! No. I’m not trying anything! It’s been a problem before and I wanted to get it out of the way early. Guy was freaked out by guns. Saw someone get whacked when he was young. Couldn’t stand the sight of my holster and…”
“I’m not him — if he ever existed. In horse country we have rifles, pistols, and all types of weaponry. Not to mention the dangerous implements for branding. Then, there are those who try and steal our horses. We Fosdicks protect our property by any means necessary. Got anything else up your sleeve? Wanna try your bi next? What about you’re in a complicated relationship? I won’t believe either one of those so shoot for something original, hmm?”
“Next Friday. We meet in front of wherever you’re taking me. You text me the address the day before. You have issues, you call me.”
“Yes, Sir! Permission to sign off, Sir!”
“Smartass.”
She hung up on him but couldn’t keep the cheesy grin off her face.
Friday, November 9th, 5:00 P.M.
“I had to clean up, right? What was I supposed to do? Leave it there?”
“That’s not what I would have done after getting sick at the club and then being sick again when I got home!” Babs laughed.
“You’re a filthy pig that’s why!” Jennifer grinned as she chomped on her turkey burger while using her head and shoulder to hold the phone.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, you let Chad leave you on the street? You go home, get sick, scrub the place, and yourself, spotless then go to bed? Who does that? It sounds like something you’d hear on a reality show about obsessive compulsive people, or that show,” Babs snapped her fingers. “Uhm — you know the one…”
“Monk? The OCD detective?”
“Yeah! That’s the one.”
Jennifer said quietly, “I love that show.”
“Oh. Jen, I’m sorry. I —”
Jennifer shook it off refusing to go down the path of memories. It was off-limits in a conversation with the woman that was going to teach her how to feel beautiful.
“It’s nothing. You pegged me right. I’m a bit of a weirdo and the only thing I can do is try to keep it better hidden. So, I need to know what clothes I should look for. I’ve seen What Not to Wear a few times but I couldn’t get with it. And body type? Haven’t a clue! Advice?”
When the spark came back into Babs’ voice, Jennifer knew she had chosen the right segue to end the uncomfortable conversation. Jennifer continued to munch on her burger ecstatic she had averted serious talk.
Babs bubbled on about boots, skinny jeans and shirt styles that would look fetching on Jennifer. The focus was to highlight Jennifer’s best feature — her arms — and which colors would make her dark brown eyes pop — the greens and the blue hues in the richer tones. Jennifer’s darker coloring — her perfect café au lâit skin tone — would make her look regal in the rich jewel tones.
Jennifer wanted to run into a corner and hide 10 minutes into the conversation. Half an hour later, when the burger was but a memory, and Babs was still waxing on about pairing scarves to add texture, color and ‘pop’ — which seemed to be Babs’ favorite word Jennifer smiled when the phone beeped. It was Betty.
“Gotta run, Babs! Work call.”
“We’ve got to go shopping so you can try on these combinations!”
Jennifer barely suppressed a shudder; shopping was the bane of her existence. “Sure. We’ll talk soon.” She clicked over immediately severing the line to avoid committing to an actual shopping spree date.
“Thanks for saving my butt, Feinster.”
“From what?”
“The Babs-Texture-N-Pop-Shopping-Spree reality show.”
“Well, with the extra set of bucks you won last week you can afford to shop.”
“Well shit! I forgot about that!” Jennifer jumped up, rushed to her satchel bag and looked inside the zippered pocket. Sure enough the winning scratch-off ticket was still there.
“Got it!” Jennifer grinned.
“You’re so stupid. Most people would have run to cash that in the same day and here you are — what over a week later? Just remembering? You’re not stupid, you’re a certified whack job.”
“Yeah well, I only had a little case of a murder with signs of serial killer to investigate…”
That shut Betty up quick.
“What do you mean serial?”
“While I was rooting around the database, I input all the crazy variables I could think of because this guy seemed so clean and precise. Clearly, Barnes was targeted and watched for quite some time. The perp had to know Barnes’ schedule and the route, or routes, she walked each night.”
“How’d you figure that out?”
“It was a strong hunch and no one popped from her friends, family or familiar haunts — not even a little bit. Barnes was a squeaky clean fashionista. So, I began putting in Halloween, rape, mid-twenties, Caucasian female. Stuff like that and the pattern pinged. Every other year, a woman is raped in a very similar fashion to Barnes.”
“How similar?”
“Almost exactly the same as Barnes.”
Betty whistled then asked, “How exact?”
“Everything same except for one of them had her breasts cut off.”
“Ouch!”
“All the others were exactly the same as Barnes. More or less knife-work is the only small variable. Ten more cuts more on one than the other.”
“Shit and a half.”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t anybody put this together before?”
“Probably because it was every other year; the pattern isn’t readily apparent. Plus, the murders all happened in different states.”
“For how long?”
“Give or take ten years.”
“Four other murders!”
“Yup,” Jennifer smiled with satisfaction.
“So when were you going to tell me?”
“I wanted to tell you the other night but you went and told me that I had go out, get shit-faced drunk and sleep with strange men, ‘member?”
“I didn’t say you had to sleep with Chad; you just should have. Have you called him yet? It’s almost five o’clock. You think he’d be up now? Or, still sleeping?”
Jennifer sighed, “Yes, I called him.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Don’t make me pull your tongue out through this phone…”
“So, we have a date next Friday.”
“Wahoo! It’s about damn time. Where ya going?”
“Out. Now, do you, or do you not want in on this case? You want in…dontcha?”
“Selfish spoilsport! I want the deets after the date and of course I want in! So, what do I have to do Holden?”
“Lemme think hard on it and get back to you. Right now, I’ve got a golden ticket to cash in.”
“If you don’t let me in on this case I’m going to tell Babs you won fifteen hundred bucks and have money to burn. She’ll be on you like white on rice for that shopping spree…”
“If you tell her…”
“Yeess?”
“I’ll, I’ll…”
“Ya-huh, you’ll have to go shopping. You’re no fool. Babs will take no excuses and will manhandle you into her vehicle. Then, she’ll make you try on each and every outfit combo that she thinks would look great on you.”
Jennifer was turning green from the inside out. Her brain went into overdrive at the thought of Babs dragging her to the mall like her mother did years ago.
“Jenny, this would look so nice on you! Try it on.”
Her mother nudged the 12-year-old Jennifer to the fitting rooms avoiding the girl’s bruised arm covered by a ¾ sleeve T-shirt. Little Jennifer glared at her mother and stood firm finally realizing her mother knew.
“No! That skirt and blouse won’t make Uncle stop touching me, Mom. He might even like it too much. No!”
Hastily putting the set down, her mother fidgeted and ran to another rack pulling at designer jeans.
“Here. What about these? They’re really cute. See the sequins?”
Her mother’s eyes begged the preteen for forgiveness and understanding. Jennifer could see the tears glistening in the corner of her mother’s eyes. Guilt rammed itself into the little girl’s stomach. She turned away crossing her arms against her board flat chest and tapped her foot.
After a tense thirty second standoff, little Jennifer sighed blowing air through her teeth. She gave in to the guilt. Marching over to her mother, she grabbed the jeans out of her mother’s feeble grasp and continued into the fitting room. Without a backward glance, she forced herself not to cry for herself, or for her mother’s weakness…
With her throat constricted, Jennifer held the phone and tried to breathe through the onslaught of emotions.
She croaked out, “Can you stop her?”
“I sure can,” Betty said in a voice oozing with honey.
Jennifer knew Betty had no idea of the emotional maelstrom the shopping trip caused. For that, Jennifer was grateful. Jennifer knew Betty would never understand; her world was way too normal.
“Okay, you keep Babs from taking me shopping and I call you in as back-up whenever the Brass sniff out what I’ve got going on. Deal?”
“Deal!”
“Conniving bitch…”
Betty’s deep throaty laugh rang in Jennifer’s ears as she clicked off still disturbed by the decades old shopping memory. She knew she needed some serious help because one day her phobias would be the death of her.
Having had enough conversation for the rest of the weekend, Jennifer headed to the bathroom to rid herself of the unwanted feelings, and the memories, with a good scrub under the shower’s pounding spray of hot water. Halfway there, she stopped. Too anxious to shower just yet, Jennifer paced instead trying to regain poise and control. Taking deep breaths she willed the memory and the turbulent emotions away.
As the shopping memory receded, a burning anger replaced the cold places in Jennifer’s heart making her blood boil.
The abrupt shift in emotional arc peaked The Fury’s attention. The demon followed Jennifer’s anger back to the memory from which it stemmed. When the journey ended deep in Jennifer’s hippocampus Abatu smiled. It was just as the demon suspected. There was damage. The Fury caressed the host’s slightly shrunken organ.
Jennifer shivered uncontrollably. It felt as if someone had walked over her grave. She forced herself away from the unreasonable anger she felt and paced around her apartment biting her lip. She knew that getting angry was bad.
Whenever she had gotten angry in the past he would laugh, chortle and guffaw until tears streamed down his face. He would point his finger at her while clutching his bloated beer paunch as her impotence loomed before little Jennifer.
Over the years, Jennifer tried to forget the white ribbed sleeveless T-shirt and the unbuckled ubiquitous khakis he wore.
Shuddering, Jennifer shoved the memory of his flat bare feet with the gnarled dark toenails out of her mind. To this day, she hated imperfect feet and any hint of obesity.
Jennifer ran into the bathroom stripping bare in five seconds. Using the loofah, she scrubbed herself as she tried to purge the memory of his feet and gut. She scrubbed in fits and starts not knowing why but just going with what she was feeling. Some many minutes later, she sighed as she welcomed the relative peace of bruised raw skin in the place of the decades-old foul memory snapshots.
Abatu stilled and pulled its claw off Jennifer’s hippocampus. The rigorous scrubbing stopped. The Fury put its claw back, applied pressure and saw that the scrubbing commenced again. Thoughtfully, the Fury pulled away and moved into another part of Jennifer’s brain.
Jennifer placed the loofah back into the shower caddy and picked up the Victoria’s Secret emollient body wash she had splurged on last Christmas. Picking up her thick cotton washcloth from the caddy, she gently exfoliated her face and neck, letting her mind rest as it coasted off now that the horror of the past had been laid to rest once more.
It must be the Barnes case. It’s making me so sensitive.
Abatu sent a truer thought to infuse the host’s mind that the coffee and Red Bull combination weren’t helping either.
During their night out, Abatu gleaned from the host’s friends that Jennifer imbibing the heavily caffeinated drink coupled with the alcohol was not something that would go over well on a continuous basis. The demon decided to concede on this one small point. It decided to not press the host’s body to adapt to the Fury’s preference for a high degree of stimulants and alcoholic beverages — that particular need could be, and would be, satiated in other ways very soon. Abatu had already identified an activity much more appropriate for this Jennifer host. It seems this activity was deemed necessary also by the host’s friends. This, more physical satiation, would most definitely by enjoyed by the demon. It had so missed copulating while it was away from the earth plane…
***
Walking with a hum in her throat and a bop to her step, Jennifer smiled as she thought about the winning scratch-off ticket in her satchel. Even with the remnants of her first hangover still lingering, Jennifer had taken care with her wardrobe on this special occasion. She didn’t want to pick up her first-ever big lottery winnings looking like a bum. With a pair of leggings in hot pink, a comfy lamb’s wool pale pink cowl neck turtleneck under a cable-stitched wheat colored sweater with her broken-in light brown Uggs all topped off with a mixed autumn colored Betsey Johnson scarf swirled around her neck. Jennifer felt bright, stylish and comfortable. She smiled to herself. Even this morning’s plunge into the dangerous frightening world of her past couldn’t stop the pleasure and excitement that raced along her nerves.
I won! I finally won!
The bounce in her step was unmistakable. Unbeknownst to Jennifer, she was attracting a lot of attention. Her stride had lengthened creating a scintillating tightening and softening of her derriere which made male and female passer-by do double-takes.
The Fury stayed in the background observing. Joy looked good on the Jennifer host. The demon decided in that moment that it would use this emotion as the primary tool to motivate its new host. Abatu realized that happiness had been withheld to such a great extent in the host’s life that if Abatu fabricated exhilaration it probably would not be believed. However, the Fury saw that manipulating the people and things around this host to create happiness would work, exceedingly well it seemed.
Abatu settled into the fully mapped territory that was Jennifer’s mind. All of the host’s painful memories were now known and catalogued. All that was left to be done by Abatu was to exorcise them. However, the memories had to be removed in small passes. Abatu could not forcibly pull them out as it did before…or, even stroke them. This host needed help to deal with these memories but Abatu had no idea what resources were available to the host in this time period. The laying on of leeches were of minimal use, in most cases. However, the demon pondered if even a little bloodletting would work since its own extraction methods were not working…
Shaking itself from its pleasant reverie, Fury Abatu sighed from its own sheer happiness. Never before had it had such an interesting host! Maybe it could hold on to this one for a bit longer than was usual. It might be able to stave off the inevitable. The Jennifer host was, after all, a member of modern day law enforcement. That could be advantageous instead of a negative. This host’s mind was full of knowledge about how to properly clean a crime scene and the best way to disarm an assailant. Who better than a police officer to clean up after Abatu’s frequent feedings? Abatu’s countenance mellowed as it barred its sharp teeth and clapped its leathery claws in merriment. It was a visage that would not be considered at all akin to a smile by any human dead, or alive.
Reviewing the past few days’ events, Abatu nodded to itself knowing that this host would do very well for some time to come.
However, that would only be the case if the demon could keep the Jennifer host from the violent death that usually befell each and every one of Abatu’s hosts within five to six weeks of every single possession over the past 700 plus years…
***
Friday, November 9th, 6:00 P.M.
“Hey! You won fifteen hundred bucks! Congratulations!!” said Sammy, Jennifer’s regular lotto guy who worked at a bodega a few blocks from her house.
A blush crept into her cheeks as the pleasure she felt shone through her eyes. “Thanks man! I owe it to you. Remember? You’re the one that said I should try Win For Life again. You know I was done with it.”
Sammy smiled and nodded vigorously but all he could think about was how good winning looked good on her. “I know! I know. Glad I got you to try it one last time. Can I prod you into something else? Maybe a couple of Bingo Doublers, a Cashword $300,000, or maybe a few Set for Life scratch-offs?”
Beneath his thick lashes, his gaze flicked over her as he licked his lips while his hands deftly verified her scratch-off game under the scanner. Her milk-and-coffee complexion and slender curves were alluring.
“At ten bucks a pop?! Nah, I’ll just take my winnings.”
He blinked at her, snapping back to full attention. He tilted his head to one side with a quizzical look. Then it hit him. “Oh! You’ve never won this much before! You don’t know.”
Jennifer fidgeted and looked behind her when she heard a snigger. A dilapidated looking man in forgettable baggy clothing sneered at her with yellow stained teeth. Turning back around, she grimaced and looked up at Sammy and asked, “I don’t know what?”
“This amount is too much. You’ll have to mail away for it, go to Beaver Street, or Resorts World to collect your winnings,” he said with an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Do you want anything else today? I have a line…” He jutted his chin to indicate the people behind her.
Jennifer looked behind her studiously avoiding the man with the corn-colored teeth. Two of the men on line finger-waved at her and the three women just stared, one with her hand on her ample left hip. The last woman on the line was a mature woman whose arms were crossed over her bosom who said, “Either give me de damned ticket, or move outta de way, na man?? Me wan go home!”
Chagrined, Jennifer raised her hands, while bending her head in deference and said, “Sorry! I didn’t realize I was holding up the line.” She turned back to Sammy. “Do you know if any of them are open tomorrow? It’s almost six and I know nothing’s open now, right?”
She stepped to the side and the guy behind her stepped up to Sammy but all the while the dude was smiling at her. Jennifer couldn’t get past his bad toupee and frankfurter breath which wafted past her nose as he whispered his daily numbers to Sammy for Saturday’s midday game. She took another step back as she awaited Sammy’s response.
“1557, 1285 and 9981? Uhm. 9981 is sold out for midday tomorrow.”
“Shh…not so loud, Sammy! I dreamt that damned number, too, last night. Can you give it to me for midday Sunday?”
“Sammy?” Jennifer interjected.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Resorts World Casino…in Jamaica, Queens? You know the new one they built a couple of years back? Their NYS Lottery customer service center is open every day and I think it’s open late, too. It may even be open now. Check online.”
Frankfurter-breath turned fully towards her. He blew a kiss Jennifer’s way and said, “I’ll be happy to drive you…”
With a strained smile, Jennifer sidled away, nodding noncommittally and escaped with a final wave to Sammy who was holding his nose with one hand while tapping away furiously on the lotto machine with the other.
Walking home with a little less pep in her step, she wondered if she felt up for this money run all the way out to Queens on the train. More importantly, did she want the temptation of having so much money on her while in a live casino? With a sigh, Jennifer walked home, opened the front door and took the stairs two at a time.
Her phone rang, startling her. She juggled with her bag as she unlocked her apartment door while trying to answer her phone.
“Hello?”
“Are you avoiding me…already?”
His sexy rugged voice stilled her. She hadn’t anticipated speaking to him again so soon.
She let herself in shutting and locking the door behind herself. Her mind was whirling but no words came to her lips.
Abatu felt Jennifer’s emotional surge and came forward. With a knowing gleam in its eye, the demon nudged Jennifer to help her respond.
“Hmm…you’re making me wonder if the cool Chad is just a façade and if you’re really a stalker with a great bod.” She dropped her bag on the sofa and plopped herself onto the ottoman.
“So, you like my bod?”
“Look, I know we just spoke a couple hours ago but I failed to mention something that may be important for you to know.”
“Yeah? Okay, go for it.”
Jennifer gulped a couple of times before speaking again. “I’m…I’m an atheist.”
A rich baritone laugh wafted through the phone. “Oh, is that all you’ve got? Okay, I’m a sex offender. I just got out 6 months ago and I like little boys. I’m switching to underage girls now while I’m on parole.”
She sighed while rolling her eyes. “So not funny and I’m serious. I don’t believe in God, or any other entity with in kind attributes.”
“Do you go around killing people?”
“No!”
“Do you do drugs?”
“Absolutely not! How could I be on the force if I did anything like that?!”
“Well then, being an atheist is not a deal-breaker for me.”
“Well pedophiles are deal-breakers for me!”
“You and I both know that was for shits-and-giggles. At your expense, of course.”
“Yeah, well…whatever. Look, I’m heading out soon and…”
“Did you get my text?”
The Fury nudged Jennifer again.
“Text? What text? When?”
“A little while ago.”
Jennifer could hear the smile in his voice. It made her curious. Pulling the phone from her ear, she swiped through to her texts, opened his and ignored the others. It was an Instagram picture of a gorgeous bouquet of bougainvillea and white dendrobium orchids.
“Chad, they’re beautiful!”
“Wow, so even the tough Lady Cop likes flowers? Good to know. I won’t hold you up. Just wanted to ensure you received my text. Go have a great Friday evening and a productive week next week, ‘kay? And, for the record? I’m very much looking forward to next Friday.”
He clicked off before she could say another word.
She stared at the phone until a half smile teased the corners of her mouth upward.
Oh, this has gotten very interesting…
Fury Abatu wanted the Jennifer host free of the sweet chili sauce that was Chad this Friday evening because it wanted to feed, and feed well. Being bound to this host, or any host, weakened the demon rapidly. The skinny would-be assailant from this morning did not satiate Abatu’s blood-thirst. He was only an unfulfilling appetizer.
Chad was bigger and would hold Abatu over for a few days but, the demon liked the tête-à-tête the Chad male seemed to be putting on offer. Plus, he was too close. The Jennifer host’s friends would definitely recall this male if he turned up dead. Reluctantly, Abatu let the thought go that the Chad male could be the evening’s meal and retreated into the background of Jennifer’s mind once again.
She tucked the phone into her bag as she strolled into the bedroom. With purpose, she headed for the modest walk-in closet. She knew she needed a wardrobe update but there never really had been a need to do so.
The Fury peeked at the clothing selections through the host’s eyes as well. The demon growled. Nothing was suitable for its purposes! Abatu needed blouses that showed cleavage, skirts that showed the host’s legs, and shoes that would make men’s hearts and nether regions quiver. When Jennifer’s perusal got to the undergarments, Abatu roared. The Jennifer host did not own even one pair of silky lacy under things! Within Jennifer’s mind, the Fury howled its frustration.
Jennifer sighed as she realized she did, indeed, need new clothes. Cursing her retail-a-phobia, Jennifer wondered if she could compensate Babs to act as her personal shopper. This way, Jennifer would never have to see the inside of a store! Jennifer shook it off the pleasant thought and grabbed a many seasons old gabardine palazzo pants in midnight blue along with a sparkly form-fitting blouse she had purchased for a Christmas party she ended up never attending.
Abatu put an image of bangles, earrings and some make-up in the host’s mind.
Jennifer pulled off her pink outfit and slipped into the soft floating pants and the shiny green, gold and red top and felt pretty. She rushed to her dusty jewelry case and pulled out the only two gold bangles she owned and the simple small gold hoops for her pierced ears. These pieces were had been a gift from her mother. Jennifer stopped wearing them around the same time Hyacinth Holden ceased being a mother. Jennifer took a deep breath and counted to four in hopes of warding off a mega mother memory which threatened to overwhelm her mind.
Sensing the host’s distress, Abatu arrested the memory’s intense power and held it captive in a spell ball held between its claws. Abatu stared at the tiny images of humans running around on a lawn when the glint of metal caught the demon’s eye, it shook its head from side to side. This was not for tonight. Abatu wanted, no needed, the host to have a good night without anything cluttering the host’s mind. Yes, Abatu thought to itself, tonight was all about the Jennifer host having a good time. Setting the spell-bound memory aside, the demon massaged another part of the host’s brain.
At the count of four, the memory began to lessen and while it didn’t fade into nothingness, it stopped hampering her mind. With a grunt of confusion, Jennifer shrugged then began to hum as she put on the gold hoops and slid on the pair of bangles before heading to the bathroom. Once in there, Jennifer rummaged inside the bone and onyx box atop her vanity until she found a lip gloss that wasn’t dried out. It was a pale coral color. Digging around a bit more she came up empty for eyeliner but found an ancient duo-color eye shadow set in light and dark grey. Shrugging, she smeared the lighter grey just beneath her uneven eyebrows and used the darker shade to fill in her bottom lid. She took a look at her reflection and shrugged again.
“Not as gorgeous as Babs’ handiwork but better than my usual.”
Back in her room, she poked around her closet until she found a black clutch. She dropped the two pieces of make-up in it and strapped on her Galco ankle holster which she kept on a hook behind her clothes in the walk-in.
While some women liked to carry their Rabbits with them, on a big night out, Jennifer preferred to carry a weapon – or two – just in case. Jennifer pulled out her gun case and looked over the selections. She was about to pick up her Glock when the Fury put the image of the stolen gun into her mind. Jennifer’s fingers immediately grasped the .38 instead shoving aside the feeling of dread. She slid the compact gun into her holster and replaced her gun case before moving over to the safe. Jennifer keyed in her code, plucked out the right bullets and loaded the gun she knew she should throw away.
The Fury stoked Jennifer’s mind in just the right area.
Jennifer’s misgivings ebbed away. With a clear expression, she grinned at herself in the mirror. The wide pant leg hid the ankle holster completely.
Jennifer exited her bedroom, scooped out her lottery ticket, badge, ID and her keys along with some cash and her MetroCard from her everyday bag. She stuffed all of it into her little clutch. She wasn’t sure how her phone would get in but she shoved until the bag zippered closed even though it bulged rather unpleasantly. Satisfied, she jogged back to the bedroom to take one last look at herself. She turned first to the left and then to the right. Her slim physique actually suited the long flowing pants and the shimmering top beautifully against her slight curves giving her the appearance being more voluptuous because it hugged her chest. She nodded.
This will have to do.
She went to the hall closed and pulled out a pair of funky black boots with thick stacked three-inch hells adorned with silver studs and metal work on the toe tips. She found a leather jacket with round silver beading and shrugged it on knowing she just ruined the soft feminine look. Jennifer refused to check out her finished look because she knew all she needed was a studded leather collar for her upscale Goth look to be complete. Jennifer shook her head and headed out the door without a backward glance.
The Fury cackled at the thought of a studded collar. It memorized the image it saw in the host’s mind so it could influence the host to buy one in the coming days.
Abatu believed the studded collar would make a delightful addition to the host’s wardrobe especially for the upcoming dinner with the Chad male…
***