DEAD RIGHT 
               Synopsis 
Suspense novella: A mother and daughter are held hostage in their home by a
fleeing felon. Tense drama with underlying theme about a mother/daughter
relationship. 

NOTE: The subject matter of this is for adults, may contain
violence/language offensive to some readers.




                 DEAD RIGHT 
               By: Cara Swann


                 CHAPTER ONE

Late Thursday afternoon, Emmanuel Espinoza blew out out of there, left that
freaking Dixie city, Birmingham, Alabama....heading north in a rental car, a
big Crown Victoria, the spare tire and backseat concealing several kilos of
high-grade, uncut cocaine.

Man, he loved traveling at night! Sleep all day in a cool motel room, then
get down to business -- a mule, transporting coke cross-country. Night
traveling, less risky than broad daylight...less traffic now that he'd
gotten out of the city, past the outskirts of Gardendale.

He flipped on the radio, heard the radio D.J. joke, "Weather reports
indicate the earlier thunderstorm front has moved out of the region, should
be having clear skies with moonshine tonight, folks!"

Manuel hooted, began restlessly tapping fingers on the steering wheel,
always a fireball of energy, and looked at the hazy hillsides, the highway
slowly steaming dry from the earlier rain.

A diesel truck eased over into the left lane, passing an old fart driving
below the speed limit --damn old men, he got enough of the old geezers down
in Miami!

It was mid-June now, and Manuel knew this would be a good gig -- clearing
skies, nothing but wide open highways between him and the delivery
destination. He watched the fast-moving clouds leave a bloody trail as the
sunset flared over the hilltops, passing the old fart himself, blowing right
on by but careful to stay below the speed limit. No sir, didn't want no damn
trooper on his case!

Damn, this was pretty fine looking country, he thought, seeing how the green
hills dipped down into flat spaces, pastures with cattle, a farm and house,
crumbling old barns. Alien to him, but kinda nice, though he liked south
Florida better, that rosy-pink paradise, the sun and sea and sand. Man, it
was something else!

As the miles slid by, he thought what a cunning dude he was -- this new
route, man, it was damn clever! That bad scene, the time he'd gotten nabbed
on a run just outside Atlanta, using the regular drug trafficking route, I-
75...shit, that was a close call. He'd been hauled into the jail, but fate
handed him a big break. A guy in there already had the plans ready, all
Manuel had to do was go along on the escape.

He frowned, suddenly growing very still, remembering how bad he'd been
beaten, nearly killed back in Miami. Losing that load, what'd he expect?
Then he found out about this new contact, Mr. Zero, and he was back in
business -- but better, yeah man, smart enough to figure out another route.

His runs had been taking him up I-95 to Jacksonville, west on I-10 to
Mobile, then I-65 up through Alabama, cornbread and grit-eating country. All
the way to Louisville, hit I-71 to Cleveland, connect to I-90 right on into
New York state, down I-87 to his destination, the Big Apple!

Six months, and he'd not been stopped, not once! Damn, Zero thought he was
doing good enough, might start letting him deal on the side, get a piece of
real action -- not this small-time crap, running up and down the country.

As the sun fell behind the hillsides to the west, Manuel tapped his fingers
on the steering wheel, listening to Rod Stewart's raspy voice vibrate the
stereo speakers. Gradually, it darkened and he flicked on the headlights,
feeling relaxed, no sweat about the trip ahead.

When the blue lights came on, he stiffened, had to force himself not to whip
his head around; instead, he glanced up into the rearview mirror, saw that
he'd been stupid to think he couldn't be pulled over. But why? What the
hell....

Stay cool man, he told himself under his breath, and put on his signal,
began slowing and then easing the car over to the median, stopping. Just
keep that temper down, he told himself again, straightening up in the seat
as he watched the tall, lanky trooper crawl out of the cruiser behind him.

When he came up to the window, Manuel lowered it and put on his best shit-
eating grin, asking, "What's the problem, officer?"

The trooper tipped his Stetson hat, but there was a blue-steel gaze in those
eyes as he stated flatly, "Got a busted taillight. See your license and
registration, please."

Manuel replied calmly, "Sure. Didn't know about the taillight, or I'd made
the rental place fix it. Glad you stopped me, though."

"License and registration, let's see it."

Manuel reached into his back pants pocket and pulled out his leather wallet.
"Here you go, officer. Car's a rental. Hot night here, sir."

"Uh huh."

Manuel knew his fake I.D. was perfect, would pass muster...and willed
himself to keep the shit-eating grin on his face, act calm, unconcerned.

"You from Florida, Miami?"

"Yes sir."

"Uh huh." The trooper took his flashlight out, shone it in Manuel's face,
then slowly, very deliberately, ran the beam across the interior of the car,
leaning in enough to shine it into the backseat.

Manuel remained tensely quiet.

"Ricardo, you mind stepping outside a minute?"

"What's the problem officer?" Manuel thought about the gun underneath the
front seat, felt an impulse to get it -- but that would be stupid, not a
smart move.

"Just procedural policy." The trooper stepped back, flashing the beam in
Manuel's face, making him blink and squint.

"Now, just walk back here between the cars. I'll follow."

Manuel felt a fire start in his gut; something was wrong, bad wrong.

"Ricardo, you heading north, huh?"

"Yeah. I mean, yes sir."

The trooper started to the cruiser, commanded, "Stand right there while I do
a license check."

"Officer, am I under arrest?" Manuel was standing stock-still, but his gut
was boiling....giving him the message this felt wrong, all wrong. Him
standing here with the cruiser headlights on him, a trapped animal before
the kill.

"No arrest. Just standard procedure," the trooper called, getting into his
car, never taking his eyes off Manuel as he picked up the mike, began giving
the dispatcher the information.

Manuel felt sweat break out all over his body; his face beaded with it, a
trickle running down between his shoulders, the humidity thick enough to
cut. This felt like his worst nightmare coming true! That damn trooper had
to be onto something! Sniffing something out, one of those cowboy types that
went way beyond the call of duty. Shit, he muttered, but then told himself
to stay cool, act natural.

Finally, the trooper came back and said, "Okay. You check out fine. Guess
you can be on your way."

Manuel felt a flood relief, and said, "Hey no problem. I'm on my way to see
family, up north, Chicago."

"Uh huh," came the trooper's familiar drawl as they started toward the front
of the car when suddenly he asked, as if an afterthought, "Say, don't
suppose you'd mind signing a consent form for a search of the car, would
you? Being as how you're a good citizen and all."

Shit!

"I mean, we been hearing all this business about dope and gun runners, good
citizens got to help out in this here war on drugs. Upstanding citizens
ain't got nothing to hide, huh?"

The trooper's flashlight beam hit Manuel full-face, blinding him again as he
blinked, knowing he was damned if did, damned if he didn't. Quickly, he
said, "No. Go on, search."

"I'll just go call for backup, after you sign this here form." He handed a
clipboard to Manuel, a form marked with an X for his signature -- like he
was about to sign for his execution! Man, this was freaking bad luck! But he
scratched off his fake name, handing it back to the trooper who headed
toward the cruiser, turning his back on Manuel.

Not losing a beat, Manuel saw his chance and ran like hell, flying off the
median, straight down into the ravine, slipping and sliding in the dewy wet
grass, climbing and half-stumbling up the steep embankment as he heard the
trooper yelling, "Hey! Whoa there, come back. Hey! Stop...Stop or I'll
shoot!"

But Manuel knew he wouldn't, no way -- uh huh... no officer was stupid
enough to shoot a fleeing suspect in the back, especially not a minority
like him! So he ran as fast as he could, never looking back, hearing the
trooper's shouts getting fainter as he made for the nearest woods, fighting
through some kind of godawful tangled viney stuff that seemed to clutch at
his feet, his legs as he finally broke into dense pines, out of the
trooper's sight.

He staggered around, slowing enough to peel off his white silk suit jacket,
then took off at breakneck speed, down through the woods. The moon was up
now, and it gave off an eerie illumination, enough light to see where he was
going, yet not knowing where in hell he was!

Like a wild animal escaping a death-trap, he ran wildly, blindly, not caring
for direction or destination....the only thought in his mind to put space
between him and that freaking, bad-ass trooper with the hayseed act! He went
up a hill, down a hill, and found himself slipping, falling down a slick
slope to the bank of a creek, where he came to a halt, ragged breathing
hurting his lungs.

He tried to catch his breath, hearing the awesome quiet now, the stillness
almost unnerving. He crept over to some low-hanging willow tree limbs,
hiding inside the shelter, thinking he might just stick it out, stay put
until the way was clear. But if he could find a highway...or a house...a
car....

By now, he knew the trooper was coming after him, probably not far back
there right now. An all-points bulletin going to the dispatch, soon be on
the radio, TV...all the heat on alert, citizens warned to be on the lookout
for him! Man, he was in deep shit now! The whole damn country would know
what he'd been hauling...

Panic seized him, and he stood, looking out across the rippling, gurgling
creek, saw he had to cross it and leapt into the cool water, feeling the
shock of cold against his hot skin. But it felt sorta good, and he leaned
down, splashing water on his face, wetting his hair, taking a minute to cool
off, settle down some.

At last, he climbed up the creekbank, feeling his wet silk suit cling to his
skin, the mud showing dark on the white material. He stumbled up the mossy
bank, then took a second to get his bearings and started off, jogging and
pacing himself; if he hadn't been going to the gym, man, he'd for sure lose
it.

Up another hill, then pausing on the high ridge, looking down to where he
saw a white plank church and graveyard in the narrow hollow below; he knew
he would have to cross that open space, and took his time getting down
there, but then stopped, listening for sounds of pursuit.

Nothing.

Mosquito bites began to burn, itch and he scratched at his arms and legs
distractedly. The clearing was a big risk, but he had to cross it, had to
keep moving...


Manuel ran, ran as hard as he could, staying close to the church, in the
shadows, then sprinting through the cemetery, on into the safety of the
dark, deep woods, pausing to look back, searching for any movement up on the
hilltop.

Nothing.

Now he turned south, cursing and hacking at the thick underbrush, making
slow progress over the next hill, then coming down slowly, trying to pace
himself. As he stood at the edge of the woods, he wondered which way to go?

That's when he saw the light. 

Damn, he swore softly, hoping there'd be a car, a truck...near the light. He
headed in that direction, noticing a dirt road that ran alongside the woods,
and stayed close to it, but back in the safety of pines.

At the end of the dirt road, he saw a small garage attached to a bungalow-
style house; no vehicle, though, and he cursed again, but went on anyway.
Hell, had to be something here he could take advantage of...

He hung back long enough to study the place, see there was no movement
anywhere, probably no one home. He surveyed the territory, flat yards, and
beyond the house, fields of something, a gray plank barn, fenced pasture,
woods at the horizon, all surrounded by hovering hills. The farm was in a
hollow, edged by thickly wooded hillsides, isolated.

Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he cursed aloud, and half-crouching,
hurried into the yard, quickly into the shield of the garage. He saw a wood-
carved sign above the back door: THE CAULDERS.

As he held his breath, hardly daring hope no one was inside, he bent down
and crept beneath a window, slowly edging up to see into the kitchen, a
light over the sink. Flowers, man, freaking flower-patterned wallpaper,
curtains, chair, tablecloth, everything...flowers!

But no one was anywhere in sight; he could only make out what appeared to be
a small eat-in kitchen, then beyond the hall into an empty living room. The
wall clock read: 11:07.

He stayed low, went out of the garage, around the house on all sides,
looking in windows to make sure he couldn't see anyone. And at last, he felt
safe enough to break out a window in a back bedroom, crawl inside the house.

As he headed for the closet, anxious to find dry clothes, he heard a vehicle
pulling up into the garage.

Shit, this just wasn't going to be his night!


              END CHAPTER 



                CHAPTER TWO


"Kimberly, are you sure you like that hat?"

"Oh mom, it's perfect," Kim said, thinking that her mother always worried
about spending money when it was for anything other than the farm, or her
savings fund for college this fall.

"Well you'll need it, I guess, in the field or out in the sun around the
house."

Kim sighed, glad to be home; they'd been shopping and then to a movie. She
watched her mom pull the truck expertly into the garage, and take out the
ignition keys.

"I'm tired. For an old lady, this was a big night."

"You, old? You run this farm almost single-handed, only just past forty-
five..."

"Forty-eight to be exact young lady. And I do mean 'young'. At your age, a
mere seventeen, I thought anybody past forty was an old fogey!"

Kim laughed, then touched her mother on the arm. "Hey, how about some ice
cream before bed?"

"Honestly! You know I'm on a diet! You just have to tempt me, don't you?"

Kim giggled, scooted from the truck seat and called, "Last one in can't have
fudge topping!"

Waiting at the door, her mother came forward, unlocking it and then quickly
darting inside the open door, flicking on the light as Kim tried to get past
her; but her mother beat her to the kitchen table and exclaimed, "I win!"

"Oh mom, you cheater! You deliberately slowed me down at the door!"

Pearl Caulder laughed heartily, dropping her purse on the floor and swiping
a golden strand of hair out of her blue eyes. "Okay, I cheated. But old
ladies need a break." She grinned. "What flavor ice cream?"

Kim studied her mother; she was still a very attractive woman, petite, trim
(even though she dieted constantly). But the physical labor on the farm kept
her figure slender and athletic; and with the shoulder-length blond hair,
always slightly windblown, and those deep-set blue-gray eyes that could
pierce one's soul...she looked younger than her age. Being tall, skinny just
like her dad, Kim often envied her mother's short, petite figure -- but at
least she was blond! "Vanilla."

"Of course, what else?" Pearl smiled indulgently, opened the refrigerator
freezer and took out a pint of ice cream.

"Mom, do you like the hat?" She modeled the wide-brimmed straw hat, pulling
it low over her eyes and winking.

"Honestly Kim, you could be a model. With your tall, willowy-thin body,
those big baby-blues, that long, long blond hair..." Pearl sighed. "If only
you'd wear something other than those faded jeans with the torn-out knees!"

"Look who's talking! You've got on jeans too!" Kim tossed the hat onto a
chair.

They sat down at the table, began eating the ice cream in companionable
silence. Since Kim's dad was a long-distance trucker, gone more often than
not, they'd learned to work the farm as a team -- and enjoy occasional quiet
moments without need of conversation.

"Mom, do you think we could go for an early morning ride? Jet hasn't been on
a trail ride in a while."

"Sure sugar, the horses could use a brisk dawn ride. Copper needs the
exercise too."

Kim licked the dark luscious fudge off her spoon, savoring the taste as she
ate the last bite of ice cream. "This hit the spot!"

Pearl had just lifted her bowl, about to get up and rinse their dishes, when
they heard a noise from the hallway bisecting the kitchen and living room.
Both looked toward the open door, surprised.

Pearl stood, suddenly suspicious, asking, "What was that? Kimberly...did you
put that cat out like I told you to?"

"Sure, right before we left for town."

Pearl went to the doorway, looked down the length of the narrow, short
hallway. "If I find that cat in your room again..."

"Mom, I put him out!" Kim felt a flash of anger, but squelched it; her
mother was always giving orders, and she'd learned to obey, or risk an
argument that she could never win.

Pearl came back to the table, sat down. "Maybe something fell in the closet,
it's cluttered up bad."

Just as Kimberly stood, they both were startled by a loud shout, "Don't
either of you move!"

Kim was instantly paralyzed, her eyes riveted on the menacing figure in the
doorway: a wild-looking young guy, thick-curled black hair, mud-splattered
clothing -- and he was pointing her father's old shotgun at them! He yelled,
"Sit down!"

Kimberly fell back weakly into the chair, limp with fear, and Pearl reached
to take her trembling hands.

"Now you two do what I say, exactly what I say... and no one gets hurt!"

Pearl's face was rigid with anger; the fear was there, it was just not as
strong as her sense of outrage at having her home invaded, their privacy
compromised. She tried to hold her temper, but her words came out like a
coiled snake: "Who are you? A burglar? And what do you want of us?"

He gave a sarcastic bark of laughter, then hooted. "Man, like you twos
didn't know about me! Hell, it must be on the news..."

Kim looked at her mother, frightened and bewildered; Pearl lifted her chin,
saying, "What are you talking about? You aren't making sense..."

"Kill the act, I know you musta heard about me on the radio?"

"We didn't have the radio on in the truck, no."

He seemed to relax just a bit, but kept his guard up as he edged into the
kitchen holding the shotgun on them. "Yeah, okay...so maybe you didn't hear
about it. Just a matter of time though, see...cause..."

"Look, what do you want? Money? I'll give you some. A car? Take our truck,
take whatever you've stolen in our house...  Just go, leave us be," Pearl
said, her voice tight with fury.

"Uh huh, no way. Man, this whole area must be crawling with heat. No way I'm
heading into that kinda trap. Shit, I'm in deep shit, a real stupid..." He
seemed momentarily distracted as his gaze fell on Kim, his dark eyes bright,
shiny as he studied her silently. "Oh wow, you some fine-looking chick, you
know it?"

Kim felt a cold chill run down her spine; he was looking at her with an
almost lustful gaze, a grin spreading over his smug face. Dangerous, this
guy was dangerous...

He cleared his throat, looked away, then stated, "Like, I'm in a spot here.
I don't wanta hurt nobody, but I'm, like, desperate, see?"

"So? What do you want of us? And why did you break in here anyway? There was
no car, no way to get away..." Pearl stared hard at him, unflinching in her
challenging gaze.

"Man, I just need a little help, that's all. I'm not a small-time thief, no
burglar, uh huh...no way! I need a place to lay low, hide out, dig?"

Kim swallowed hard, realizing that he was intent on staying, would not
leave...they'd be held hostage. She stammered, "Um...uh...please, take the
truck. No one knows you'd have our truck..."

"Oh sure, and you wouldn't call the cops soon as I got out of sight?"

Pearl said, "You'd tie us up, and you know it!"

He shrugged, then stiffened, gave them his menacing look that put fear
those he'd had to burn in drug deals. "I'm not leaving. You better get it
through your thick skulls. I'd be nabbed before I cleared the first bend in
the road."

Kim wondered what on earth he'd done? Was he an escaped convict? A wanted
felon? What?

He paced around with restless energy, agitated, but still holding the
shotgun on them. At last he stopped, snapped his fingers, began spilling out
the thoughts compulsively: "Yeah, I's real cool, real slick gettin away from
the trooper on the interstate. Like, when they found that stash of coke,
damn, they musta thought they'd hit the motherlode! I coulda went for my
gun, but I didn't have time; I coulda slid in the car, took off up the
highway...but where'd that end up? Road blocks on the interstate, and man, I
don't have no idea about these shitty little backroads, would be lost if I
tried to get off  I-65. It's like, see, after what happened in Atlanta, once
I signed the consent, I was had. Couldn't refuse, the trooper, he'd of just
started hassling me, acting like me being a fine upstanding citizen, with
nothin to hide, wouldn't mind a search..."

He paused, took a deep breath of air, said, "I'm not ever going back to the
joint, no way! So, I gotta play this real careful, make real damn sure I
don't get caught."

Pearl started to slide her chair back, but he yelled, "I said stay put!
What's wrong, you don't hear so good?"

Pearl said nothing, just sat staring sullenly at him.

He grinned maliciously, sighting the shotgun on them. "Guess it's just your
bad luck that I stumbled across this little hideaway, real cozy and quiet,
good spot to lay low."

Kim couldn't help the trembling shudder that went through her; and Pearl saw
it, reached to hold her hands steady.

Manuel ran a hand through his curly black hair, sighed. "Man, this is some
gig, huh?

His eyes fell on Kim again, and he let his gaze go over her slowly, very
slowly, then inched over closer, reaching out his hand toward her hair. "You
one gorgeous chick, you know it?"

Pearl snapped, "Keep your hands off my daughter!"

"Exxcuuuse me, didn't mean to offend, ma'am, " he parodied. Then snarled,
"We gonna be together a while, better not lose our tempers, huh momsy?"

Pearl leapt up in a flash, her protective instinct overwhelming good sense,
and took a step toward him but his hand shot out quick as lightning,
backhanding her savagely across the face, knocking her backward as she
staggered and fell with a thud to the floor.

"Bitch! Now you do as I say or you die! Got it? You hear what I'm saying?"

Pearl was rubbing her jawline, shock and fear finally registering on her
face as she nodded weakly, her hands trembling slightly.

Kim stared, wordless.

              END CHAPTER

CHAPTER THREE


Pearl got to her feet cautiously, rubbing her jaw and staring uneasily at
the intruder.

He motioned her back to the chair, demanded, "Sit down! And don't make
another dumb move like that!"

Kim bit her lips, wanting to help her mom but afraid to move. She asked,
"Please, what do you want of us?"

"Just shut up!"

Pearl calmly took the chair, sat down, placed her hands over Kim's, saying
gently, "It'll be okay, sugar."

"Like, this not my doing, you know? I was just on the trip and...  Ah hell,
you twos don't give a shit." He paced along the edge of the room, his black-
brown eyes never leaving their faces. "Some cute place, huh? Dig these
flowers, damn!"

"Are you planning on holding us hostage?" Pearl asked sharply.

"You are one sassy bitch! Be quiet, will you?" He began snapping his fingers
and twitching around, hyper with nervous energy.

Suddenly he saw the small radio on the kitchen counter, flipped it on.
"News, damn! That's what I need."

"We have a TV in the..." Kim began, but was cut off by his upheld hand.

A bulletin was being announced on the radio, which was tuned to a Decatur
station: "Now an update on that earlier incident near Falkville. According
to authorities, the suspect fled into nearby woods off I-65. An extensive
manhunt is being formed, with officers already in the area on foot -- and
plans are for helicopter air search by morning.  The Morgan county sheriff
is cautioning area residents to be on the lookout for a man described as
around 5' 9",  dark-complexion, curly black hair, possibly Hispanic.
Remember, if you see this individual do not attempt to apprehend him
yourself, call law enforcement at..."

Manuel clicked off the radio, slumped down in a slouch. "Shit! I knew they'd
be after me." He slowly trained the shotgun on the women. "Look, this may be
a long gig, so like, you got any rope here? Something I can tie you up
with?"

Pearl's lips thinned again, but she said, "There's some clothesline cord in
the bottom drawer to your left there."

He plundered in the large cabinet drawer, and found a coil of plastic
clothesline. "Perfect."

Kim was trembling slightly, and Pearl soothed her by saying, "Sugar, it'll
be fine."

She murmured, "Mom..."

"Shut up, will you?" He advanced across the room, jerked Pearl up by her
hair, then pulled the chair away from the table. "Now sit!"

She did so, and he warned, "Make a move Kim, and momsy here is a dead duck."

He laid the shotgun on the cabinet, and hurriedly tied Pearl securely to the
chair, all the time scowling threateningly at Kim. 
He got a knife from a drawer, cut off some rope, then he motioned for Kim to
get up, move away from the table, took the rope he'd cut off the coil, and
tied her securely in a  chair, tight enough to bind into her wrists.

"Ow!" Kim complained when he pulled the cord even tighter. "That hurts!"

"Yeah, but can't cut you any slack, might give you ideas about escape." He
snickered wickedly.

"Who are you? What's your name?" Pearl asked, her face set in hard lines.

Having them secured, he suddenly relaxed a little, and gave a bark of
laughter. "Man, you got nerve, I'll give you that." His eyes held a glint of
challenge as he studied Pearl, then Kim, finally saying, "Maybe later. Right
now, I'm hungry. You got something I can chow down on?"

"There's roast chicken in the fridge, some potato salad...ice tea."

"Homecooking, huh?" He headed to the refrigerator, but suddenly swung
around, glaring at Kim. "Where's the old man?"

"Old man?"

"Yeah, your dad, your papa? You got any brothers, sisters? Hell, I clean
forgot about that!"

Pearl intervened, "They'll be here any minute now and..."

"Mom...no. Look, I don't know what you want of us but uh..."

"Kim, hush!" Pearl interjected.

She fell silent, chastised.

Manuel stood there, evaluating the situation. He commented, "Mama's little
good girl, huh? Shame, cause you a real looker, babe."

"If you touch my daughter, so help me..."

"Cool it momsy! Hey, she's safe with me." He grinned catlike, then soberly
questioned, "So babe, where's the dad, the brothers, sisters?"

"Uh, they're not here..."

"I can see that myself. Christ, where they at anyways?"

Kim looked at her mother, worried about triggering another outburst which
might result in a savage attack on her by this creepo...

"Hey babe, you gotta clear it with momsy?" He leapt across the short space
and grabbed Kim by the hair, pulling down on it, forcing her face upward to
meet his glaring dark eyes. "I said, where the hell are they?"

"Dad's...he's a...trucker, gone. No...siblings..."

"And when will pops be back, huh?" He yanked her hair down hard, thrusting
her face higher, tugging on the hair again. "When?"

"Not till...Monday. He's...on a long haul, been out to California."

"Kimberly, hush!" Pearl snapped, leaning forward.

"Shut up, shut your mouth!" He let go Kim's hair, pivoted around and brought
his hand back to slap Pearl but Kim's shout stopped him, and he stood there,
shaking with barely leashed anger. "You are one mouthy bitch! I don't like
you, not one damn bit! You best ease up, dig?"

"Yes." Pearl nodded, only slightly subdued.

"Good. I gotta eat, I'm starving, and I don't think so good when I'm
hungry."

He got the cold chicken, potato salad and tea from the fridge, pulled out a
chair at the table and began eating. His wet, dirty clothing was drying now,
and the mud caked on his shoes fell off in chunks onto the sparkling clean
linoleum.

Between bites, he said, "My name's Manuel, and I'm a drug runner. Guess you
figured it, from what I said before. See, like, I got stopped outa the blue,
had to hit the woods. I got nothin against you twos, but if you don't do
what I say..." he looked hard at Pearl, "if you, momsy, get too brave, I'll
have to hurt yous. Don't make me do it, huh?"

They nodded grimly.

"I never hurt innocent people in my life. But I can, if I have to." He wiped
his mouth on the back of his hand, concluding, "Good food, but not spicy
enough for  me."

Pearl was staring at his clothing, looking down to where the mud had spotted
the floor. "You're filthy."

"Yeah, like, I'm getting dirt in this cute place. Damn, can't believe this
freaking house, all that god-awful flowery stuff." He glanced around, his
gaze coming to rest on Kim, making her flush under his blatant scrutiny.

At last he said, "So, where's the old dude's clothes?"

"In the bedroom across the hall, " Kim stated.

Manuel looked through the open doorway into the hall. "Yeah, back there
where I broke in the window."

He got up, placed his dishes in the sink and put the remainder of food back
in the refrigerator. Then he said with thick sarcasm, "Be right back, don't
you twos do nothin stupid." And he was gone, striding down the hallway.

"Mom," Kim whispered, "what'll happen to us! What should we do?"

"For now, just do what he says. And for goodness sakes, don't give him any
more information than you have to!"

"But mom, he is desperate, no telling what he might do!"

"I know sugar, but you shouldn't have let on about Norman. We might have
scared him into leaving right now."

"I'm sorry," Kim apologized, realizing her mother knew best, as always. But
the creep had been hurting her, and surely her mother didn't expect her to
keep quiet...

He came striding into the room, wearing a faded pair of too-big overalls and
a sarcastic grin. "Dig this! I'm a farmer, yeeepee whoooeee."

"Dad wears those in the field when he helps," Kim said.

"Yeah, well, I damn sure won't be in the fields." Manuel went to the table,
twirled a chair around and straddled it backwards, sat down, put his elbows
on the chairback and peered closely into Kim's face. "So doll, let's hear
the routine. You work? Mom work? Anybody expecting yous in the morning?"

Kim wet her lips, unconscious of the sensual way it looked, then grimaced.

Manuel turned and looked significantly at Pearl; then he said slyly,
"Wouldn't want to hurt your little chickie here, so how's about you tell her
to fess up, momsy?"

"Okay Kimberly, tell him. But you...Manuel..." She raised her voice as he
turned back to Kim, commanding "Look at me when I talk to you!" He glanced
back at her, eyes widening with mock-fear. "If you think you can get away
with this, you're wrong!" She glared at him, her face red with fury.

He looked back at Kim. "How you put up with this bossy bitch?"

"Please, don't talk like that about my mother!" Kim defended loyally.

Manuel shrugged elaborately. "So babe, what's the routine?"

"We both have jobs and will be expected in the morning, they'll miss us when
we don't show up." Kimberly lied, feeling her face flush from the
uncharacteristic deception.

He jumped up from the chair, overturning it, and grabbed Kim's throat in a
choke-hold with his big, thick hands. "Oh yeah? Is that so, sweetie? I don't
think you're telling me the truth..."

Kim was sputtering, strangling and gasping for air, squirming around,
fighting his firm grip and the restraints of the ropes.

"Stop it, stop it you sick bastard! Let her go, let her go!" Pearl screamed,
struggling against the ropes, scrambling so that the chair scraped noisily
on the floor, but she couldn't get it to topple over.

He tightened his grip on Kim's throat. "Let's hear the story, bitch!" His
eyes met Pearl's and she saw he meant to do real damage to Kim.

Her words rushed out: "We...neither of us work. I run the farm, but the
planting is finished, soybeans and corn in the ground. I've been taking a
break. Kim is...she's suppose to work in town starting next Monday... Let
her go, she's suffocating!"

Manuel released Kim swiftly, and she started gasping, began sucking in deep,
racking breaths that burned her lungs like fire.

He stepped back, his voice casual, "This is Thursday night, nearly Friday
morning. Hmm..."

Kim felt tears stinging her eyes, tears of relief from pain, and swallowed
hard, feeling the ache in her throat where he'd held her in a death-grip.

He grinned widely, satisfied as he said, "You twos are here alone, huh? No
one expecting yous till next Monday?"

Pearl nodded, unable to speak without betraying the knot of anger in her
throat.

Manuel patted Kim on the back, said, "Hey babe, you okay?" He gave that
wicked snicker. "Man,  you know I wouldn't hurt nobody." He glanced at
Pearl. "Unless I have to."

Then he glanced at the clock, saw it was near midnight, went to stand in
front of the darkened window over the sink.  Shook his head, saying, "Damn!
My luck must be changing!"

Pearl looked at Kim's strained, tense face and shook her head, saying
nothing; and Kim wondered if he would kill them both before this was over?
After all, they knew about him now...knew more than he should have told
them. Unless he didn't think they'd ever tell it, because they'd be dead.

                        END CHAPTER


                      CHAPTER FOUR

"Bee bop, bee bop ta da..." Manuel sang, popping a stick of chewing gum into
his mouth, hyper with excess energy and nervous agitation.

"Please, you are getting on my nerves!" Pearl exclaimed, losing her temper.

"Shit! I'll do just as I damn please! Momsy, you gonna try to boss me around
like you do little Kimmy here?" He smacked the gum, continuing his fidgety
dancing, loudly mimicking a recent hit by Gloria Estefan.

Pearl glared at him, then turned a disgusted face to Kim, who was tired and
discouraged.

"You know, like, I slept all day and I got extra energy. Gotta burn it up,
dig?"

Silence.

Kim was sleepy, in spite of the dire situation. She felt her eyelids growing
heavy, and had to fight off a yawn.

"Hey Kimmy! You gonna bum out on me?" Manuel danced over to her, jerked up
her chin and stared intently into her eyes. "Hey babe, don't bug out on me."
He glanced significantly at Pearl. "This other bitch will make me too
antsy."

"Quit taunting her, please. She's done nothing to you," Pearl said with
irritation.

He let go of Kim, stood dead still in the middle of the small kitchen. "This
house, you do all these flowers?"

"Yes we did. We both love flowers, don't we Kim?"

She nodded.

Pearl continued, "This was my father's home, and his before him. We go back
a long ways in this community."

Manuel pulled a chair toward Pearl, straddled it backwards, stared at her.
"Yeah? Go on."

"It's an old, old house but Kim and I redesigned the interior and Norman, he
remodeled the exterior, put on the rustic cedar siding, new roof, built on
the garage..."

Kim was surprised at his interest, couldn't fathom why he, a drug runner,
would care about family heritage, old houses.

"It's still a small house, only five rooms and one bath...but it's big
enough for us. Right sugar?"

Kim nodded, her eyes burning with fatigue. She'd been up at six, as usual,
and helped her mom with the farm chores, feeding the horses, letting them
out to pasture, doing some weeding in the vegetable garden, bringing in the
horses to the barn by late afternoon, and then the excursion to town -- a
long, full day.

Pearl resumed: "We enlarged the bathroom though, and built on the back
screen porch and then later, put in a modern kitchen."

Manuel eyed the varnished wood cabinets, the sleek counters, stainless steel
sinks, built-in dishwasher, microwave and stove. He asked, "So, like, why?"

"Oh, I suppose it was my idea, my need for preserving a part of my own
family's past." Pearl studied him skeptically. "But I don't suppose you'd
know about that."

Kim interjected, "Tell us about your family, your home, where you live..."

He snickered, said flatly, "Yeah, right."

"No really, we want to know," Kim said sincerely.

He gave her a look, still unconvinced, "You twos just trying to get chummy
with me, that won't work."

Pearl said nothing, but shrugged as if to indicate she could care less about
him or his life.

Manuel rubbed his chin, still looking at Kim's earnest face. "Maybe you'd
like to know about me, but your mom, no way!"

"Let me guess," Pearl said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "You're from
the slums of south Florida, disadvantaged, and that's what gives you the
right to terrorize us, decent folk."

"Shut up bitch!"

"Mom, look, I do want to know about his life. Um...it seems so...exotic.
I've lived here all my life, and I've never known anyone like him." Kim
looked away from Pearl, her voice softly encouraging, "What's it like in
Florida?"

Pearl gave Manuel a cold glance and set her lips grimly.

"Yeah, well babe, not now. Other stuff I need to know, like, is the truck
out there a good one?"

"Yes, just got it this past winter when our old '66 Ford died on us," Pearl
volunteered, hoping he was thinking of leaving.

"I might fire it up, when I leave. Might even let pretty little Kimmy here
take me out of the area, be a good cover, huh?" Manuel said, thinking aloud.

"Not Kim, take me," Pearl said, leaning forward in her chair.

"Yeah, right. Like, I can see me and you, old bitch, wheeling down the line,
cussing each other with every breath."

"Must you talk like that to my mother?" Kim demanded.

"Wouldn't hurt you to stand up a little to her yourself," he advised, half-
turned to Kim, yet still watching Pearl struggle not to tick him off worse.

"I have respect for my parents, and all adults," Kim explained, defensive.

"Yeah, respect, I heard that before. I get lots of 'respect' by small-time
dope pushers -- they know not to cross me, know I deserve respect cause I
can bring a world of hurt down on them if they run out on a deal."

"Spare me your twisted philosophy, young man. You are a criminal, you don't
deserve respect from anyone!" Pearl declared, her look of disgust not lost
on Manuel.

He crossed over to her, pointing his finger in her face, shouted, "Shut up!
I done told you, shut the fuck up!"

"Mom...please. Look, uh, Manuel...uh, could I have some water? Or maybe
coffee to wake me up?" Kim asked with a pleading tone, trying to ease the
building tension between him and her mother.

His face was sullen and he still stared hard at Pearl, but finally glanced
around the kitchen counters, asking where the coffee maker was...and Kim
told him, instructed him how much coffee to use, then watched him sit down
with a dejected slump to his shoulders.

Kim asked softly, "Um, Manuel...when do you think they'll stop searching for
you?"

He shrugged, quiet and withdrawn, sulking.

"Shouldn't we listen to the radio for an update?"

"Why the hell you care? Huh?" He ran a hand through his curly hair, sighed
deeply.

"I just thought, I mean...." Kim stuttered to a halt.

At last, he got up, discarded his gum, flipped on the radio, twangy country
music breaking the unsettled quiet of the room. He made a face. "Man, that
is god-awful shit."

Pearl lifted her chin, said, "Excuse me, but I think this is our house. We
listen to that because we like it."

"Is she always this mouthy?" he asked Kim, starting to grin in spite of
himself.

"No." Kim forced a smile. "Well, yes, mom is very independent, speaks her
mind."

"And you?" Manuel asked, gazing intently into Kim's beautiful face.

She shook her head. "I know what I like, but I'm not outspoken like mom."

He stood there, letting it all sink in...wondering how a mother and daughter
could be so different? But just then a bulletin came on, and he hurried to
turn up the radio volume as the announcer said that officers on the scene of
the manhunt were still in the woods, no updates as of yet.

Shaking his head, he got a cup and poured Kim's coffee, then realized he'd
have to untie her. "Babe, if I untie you, you gotta be a good girl, huh?"

"Yes, I will."

He carefully untied her hands, gave her the steaming cup of coffee, then
took up the shotgun, watching her sip at the steaming mug.

Pearl asked, "Could I have a cup too?"

"When she's done, I'll let you have some."

Kim finally got it all down, then Manuel retied her; as he touched her arms,
she felt a thick sensation of fear, but he said, "I won't tie it so tight
this time."

"Thanks."

He undid Pearl's wrists, and she took the offered cup of coffee, being very
careful not to spill it as she sipped slowly, her eyes above the rim of the
cup, watching Manuel as he turned toward Kim, then quickly looked back at
her... his smug grin suddenly unbearable. 

She dashed the hot coffee into his arrogant face, and he screamed, letting
go of the shotgun, a clattering sound as it hit the floor and skidded to a
stop near the sink.

Pearl leapt into action, propelling her body outward, toppling over the
chair, her tied legs plunging her forward, but she began sliding toward the
shotgun, dragging herself toward the weapon...

Manuel was sputtering, cursing but saw what Pearl was doing, and beat her to
the shotgun, grabbed it up and turned the blunt-end downward, his fury and
pain making him shout, "Stop! Stop right there bitch or I'll beat the hell
out of you!"

Pearl went rigid, completely still, but the sounds of her ragged breathing
filled the room, and Manuel stood positioned menacingly over her, his voice
low but lethal, "Damnit, I done told you not to try nothing again."

Kim had started crying, her words punctuated with sobs, "Please...please
don't... hurt her....please..."

He brought the shotgun down close to Pearl's wide, frightened eyes. "You
keep this up, somebody's gonna get killed. Hear what I'm saying?"

She said nothing, still too stunned by her failure, revulsion slowly rising
in her eyes as she looked at him standing over her like a wild man.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself, and then glanced at
Kim's tear-stained face. "This bitch has got to go, man, before I do
something I'll regret."

"Oh please...." Kim begged, "don't hurt mom!"

He shook his head slowly, as if coming out of his rage, grabbed a dishtowel
and wiped his face. "I'm not gonna hurt her. Not right now anyways."

Pearl was tangled up with the chair, and went limp as her defeat sunk in
fully. She also felt a pain in her side, and said, "I hurt myself..."

"Too goddamn bad, bitch!" Manuel sneered, then looked up at the ceiling,
again searching for rational thought. "I'm gonna help you up, take you to
the bedroom. Get you outta my sight, out of my hair."

Pearl didn't want to go, didn't want him to touch her, but she realized her
tactics had to change; she was only making circumstances worse, so she
reluctantly took his outstretched hand.

He jerked her roughly to her feet, helped her get her balance, then trained
the shotgun on her. "I'm leaving your legs tied, you just waddle into the
hallway, I'll be right behind you."

As Pearl came close to Kim, she whispered, "It'll be okay sugar, I'll just
be down the hall."

Kim asked, "Are you okay? Your side..."

Manuel shoved Pearl forward, she hit the wall, then reeled into the hallway,
the shotgun at her back. At her bedroom doorway, Manuel flipped on the light
switch, commanded her to sit on the floor near the bed, tied her arms around
the bedpost.

Testing the cord, jerking it painfully tight, he snarled, "You better not
try another stunt like that, or little Kimmy might not be a virgin when all
this is over!"

Pearl did not speak, only glared at him with such cold fury it made a chill
run up his spine. She was a brave bitch, he had to give her that...but
enough was enough.

"Now," he said, "I'm going back to talk with Kimmy, get to know her better."
He winked suggestively, then turned off the light, went out of the room,
leaving the door open.

Pearl hung her head, feeling a powerful wave of despair that made her want
to vomit.

             END CHAPTER


             CHAPTER FIVE

"You didn't hurt her, did you?" Kim asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

"No, but that's one mouthy bitch!" Manuel strode to the kitchen window,
looked out into the moonlit yard. Several flowerbeds surrounded the house,
then a clipped lawn and willow trees; beyond that, he could see dark
outlines of the plank barn and fenced pasture, a dimly worn trail leading
past a pine thicket to the fields.

"Um...Manuel..."

He turned around, stared. "What?"

"My mom is very protective of me, that's why she's so, um, difficult."

"Yeah, I guess she would be, huh? Pretty young thing like you." He wiped his
face, weary now and discouraged. Slowly, he came across the room, took a
chair and leaned it back against the flowery wall. "This is a bum rap, a
real downer."

"Are you planning on leaving, taking me with you?" Kim ventured, her voice a
whisper almost.

"Nah, not right now. You get bored here, huh? This little nowhere place,
nothing to do..."

"No. I...um, I was just wondering what you intend to do?"

"Hey! I got enough problems without you bugging me!" He brought the chair
legs down with a bang, got up and paced around, his dark scowl like a
thundercloud.

Kim was very quiet, fearful and anxious.

Manuel suddenly knelt down in front of her, looking into her face with
searing intensity. "You a doll, you know it? Could be a model, yous that
gorgeous."

"Thanks," Kim mumbled, feeling a cold sweat break out; he was being too
complimentary, had a lustful gleam in his black-brown eyes.

He gently touched her chin with the tip of his finger, lifted her eyes to
his. "Look, I sure as hell ain't no rapist, if that's what's on your mind?
Just that, hey, you like some kinda freaking dream, good, clean, decent.
Sorta pure, innocent. My foul life stinks too much sometimes, dig?"

She was touched by his candor, said, "It might not be too late for you to
change, work out your life differently."

His laughter was laced with bitterness. "Yeah, right. Like, I'm gonna change
into a respectable dude overnight. Uh huh, I can see it now -- all these
years in the trade, they gonna let me go? Just like that, no ties? Babe, it
don't work like that. Know why they call my boss Mr. Zero? Cause he has zero
tolerance for mules who make mistakes!"

"I'm sorry..."

He shrugged, a grin replacing the tense look. "Nothing to be sorry about,
cause I'm on the fast track, gonna be a big man one of these days, can't no
one touch me...no way!" Manuel stood, went to the cabinets, asked, "Any
liquor here?"

"Dad has some beer in the bottom of the fridge."

He looked in the refrigerator, found a can of Coors, popped it open, drank
thirstily. At last, he sighed and dropped back into the chair. "Man, this'll
calm my fever.  The coke burnt itself out; I needed this."

"Coke, as in cocaine?"

"Sure thing, babe. Don't think I just run it cross country, do you? I take a
little jolt now and then, clears my mind." He gave her a broad wink. "You
living way back in these sticks, you no so dumb yous missed the drug scene,
huh?"

"I know all about it from the news, what we learned in school." She
hesitated, then confided, "Um, I had a friend....Paula, who got hooked on
crack, got it in Birmingham when she visited her cousins. She moved there
after graduation, took a job."

"Yeah?"

"Um, she was a good friend, I still miss her. She... died about two months
ago."

He shook his head, the curly black hair falling into his eyes. "Man, that's
tough shit. I got a coupla friends OD'd mainlining smack. It's a bitch,
losing a good friend."

"Yes." She didn't bother to tell him how Paula had died, nor how much anger
she felt toward the drug pusher who'd been responsible for such a tragic
waste of life.

He looked at her closely. "You finish school yet? How old are you anyways?"

"Eighteen. I graduated in May."

"Mama's little good girl, done got her deepluma, huh?"

"Yes." Kim wet her lips, feeling how dry her mouth had become.

"Look babe, what you gonna do now? You gotta hot boyfriend, marry, have a
litter of snot-nosed kids? Stuck here in the sticks, close to Hicksville,
Alabama? Man, what kinda future is that, huh?"

"No, I'm planning on college in the fall, Auburn. Study to become a Vet."

"No shit? Take care of sick animals? Hey, that's a big deal, yeah. I had a
little puppy onct, he was the cutest guy..." He paused, ran his hand over
his chin. "Got hit by a car...fucking idiot never even stopped!"

"That's awful."

He shrugged, said flatly, "That's the breaks, kid."

"I have two cats, Charlie and Cleo, but mom strictly forbids them in the
house. We have three horses too, ride a lot. I love animals, it's just
that..."

"What?"

"Um, well..." She swallowed hard, realizing that she shouldn't tell him
this, but went on anyway: "I don't know, the sick animals on the farm, I
can't bear to see them in pain. I don't know if I'd be a good Vet..."

"Hey, that's a tough one. Seeing those sick animals, but you could help
them...maybe?"

"I guess. But what about the ones I couldn't help?"

"Yeah, that'd be rough." He took a long swig of the beer, then leaned
forward. "Say, you want to be a Vet or not?"

"I always sort of wanted to...." She broke off, thinking how weird, unreal
this conversation was becoming. Why was she confiding in this strange,
violent man?

"What?" he persisted, keenly watching her.

"Uh, I like writing, you know, stories and stuff. Love to read too. But mom
says...."

"Shit! You gonna let her run your life? Man, you are somethin else!" He
drained the beer can, crushed it and got to his feet, tossing the can in a
nearby trash bin.

Kim had her head lowered, unable to meet his eyes.

"Babe, my life is my own. Maybe it's wild and crazy, but hey, it's MY life,
I make my own choices. But you, wow, you a slave to what that mouthy bitch
says?"

She said nothing.

"You should do what you want, not what your mom tells you."

"I can't bear to disappoint her." She felt a sense of betrayal already;
she'd never, ever told anyone her secret dream of becoming an author. And
now that it was out in the open, she felt like she'd let her mother down. It
had been a dream of Pearl's, to see her daughter a Veterinarian, and she
talked constantly of it all through Kim's childhood.

Manuel suddenly swung around, walked over to her, touched her hair. "You
young, and like, yous don't owe nobody...no-damn-body, your life."

She nodded, almost holding her breath as his hand lay on her hair.

He moved away then, stood near the sink. "We need to kill the lights. Might
draw attention, dig?"

"You afraid the officers might come here?"

"Maybe. Never know what those assholes are thinking, doing, plotting."

"I'm so tired, sleepy," Kim said, hoping to get him off the topic of her
life.

"I'll put you on the couch, so yous can sleep." He untied her, led her to
the sofa in the living room, then retied her hands behind her, bound her
legs. "It's not like I can trust you, dig?"

She saw he was staring at her with an almost pleading look. She nodded,
said, "I understand. Maybe I'll get some rest,"  thinking she'd never sleep
a wink with him nearby.

He turned off the kitchen lights; it was almost instantly dark, but he found
the nightlight in the bathroom when he went in there to relieve himself, and
brought the light into the living room, plugged into a wall socket,
providing a muted glow.

Pearl called from the bedroom, "What's going on?"

He stuck his head in her door. "I'm just shutting off the lights. Might
attract unwanted attention."

"Where's Kim? Kimberly," she yelled, "are you okay?"

"Yes mom, I'm on the sofa, going to get some rest."

Manuel ordered, "Hey, cut out the yelling! Jesus!"

He sat down in a big recliner, put his feet up and said, "That beer hit the
spot, relaxed me."

Kim had a fleeting hope he'd go to sleep, give her an opportunity to work on
the cords, maybe get loose.

He shifted around, trying to get comfortable; she heard him squirming, then
going still, silent. Finally his voice began: "Like, you know, I never
knowed a real home, settled like this, dig? No excuse for my life, I make my
own decisions, but like....Little Havana, it's the nearest thing I ever felt
to home."

He paused, and Kim wondered if the beer had made him drop his guard? Or was
it her own openness in sharing her problems?

"See, my mom was part Cuban, her dad come from Havana, escaped Castro's
clutches. He married a white woman, my grandma. My old grandpop, he was a
dude I barely remember. I know it's not cool, but I really dug the old guy.
He'd tell me about Havana and how he loved it. My mom, she was a loose
woman, if you know what I mean?"

Kim said nothing, not wanting to interrupt his stream of consciousness
monologue.

"Yeah, she slept around, so they, my grandparents, they threw her out. She
had one kid after another, all different daddies. Then somewhere along the
line, she hooked up with my dad, a wealthy, white dude, in Miami on
business."

He sighed deeply, continuing: "You know, he musta cared about her, cause he
always supported her and me, leastways until he died from a heart attack
when I was ten. Hell, I was already mean as a alligator by then, ran with
the gangs, homeboys...didn't belong nowhere or with anyone..."

He suddenly wondered why in hell he was telling her this? But the sudden
quiet seemed lonely, and he went on: "Man, I just made up my mind to be
somebody, be the best damn drug runner ever. Someday, hell, I might just
show them honky and black dealers a thing or two!"

Kim wondered if she should feign sleep? But somehow she felt compelled to
say, "The news mentioned you might be Hispanic... but I can see the Cuban
heritage. Um, is your mom alive?"

"Hell no! She died years ago, didn't mean shit to me, no sir. I was already
into drug dealing, got lots of living ahead of me. I'm only 23!" He gave a
snort of disgust. "I'm never gonna end up like those old farts down in
Miami! No sir! I've seen 'em down there, retired and waitin to die. They all
gather on the pier, fish and gossip like a bunch of old women! No way I'll
wind up like that!"

"Oh?"

"I want a big grand suite at the Fontainbleau Hotel on Miami Beach, lots of
dough when I get old, so's I can gamble on the ponies at Hialeah, pad myself
with all the luxuries this old world has, dig?"

Kim told him seriously, "There's more to life than money and material
things."

"Yeah, that's what the poor always say."

"There's love, marriage, family, God..."

"Sure, right...God! Man, that God trip is one big fucking joke! A way to
keep the poor down, keep 'em looking forward to rewards in Heaven. It's
sick, you know it?"

"Spiritual beliefs help people in lots of ways."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna but that story? Forget it!"

She was silent, afraid his anger had been provoked yet again.

"You ever been to New York, the Big Apple? Man, it's a diamond, the jewel of
this country! You never lived till you seen NYC!"

"Once I went on a trip to Michigan with my dad. It was great!"

"Yeah?"

"We went to Flint, Michigan...which isn't the prettiest place, but it was
such fun. A distant place, almost foreign to me. I was only ten, and
thrilled to ride in the big truck, see the countryside from high up like
that, looking out the windows all the time. It was neat. I'll never forget
it."

"Where else you been?" he asked, squirming around again, stretching his
legs, his arms.

"Atlanta, Six Flags; Panama City, Florida... vacations. Once to the Smokies
in Tennessee." She was feeling drowsy, and couldn't believe the conversation
had lulled her into relaxation.

"Babe one of these days you'll have to see Miami. Hey, it's got flaws, yeah,
but man, at night the lights of the city seen from Biscayne Bay, oh wow! A
trip, dig?"

Silence.

"Kim?"

She muttered, "Ummm..."

"You asleep?"

"I used to watch 'Miami Vice'."

"Hell, that's TV, not like the real thing. Man oh man, it's a city you'd
never want to leave, I guarantee it..."

He stopped abruptly, hearing her even breathing, thinking she'd fallen
asleep -- and suddenly a forlorn feeling swept over him, knowing he was, as
always, alone.

                END CHAPTER


               CHAPTER SIX

Manuel had drifted in a fog of drowsiness, not really asleep, only dozing
but he came awake with a start, jumped out of the recliner, groping for the
shotgun. A noise woke him, voices outside he could now make out...and he
quickly shook Kim awake. "You expecting company this morning?"

She was groggy, confused for a moment, then her eyes widened. "What?
Oh...no, not that I know of."

"Shit!" He edged to the window, peeked out through the sheer curtains,
sunrise brightening the ridgeline of the hills off to the east. "Goddamn it!
Looks like heat!"

Kim's hope came alive briefly, and she asked, "Officers are out there?"

"Yeah! Man, this is bad. Sheriff's patrol car, how'd he wind up here?"
Manuel half-turned to Kim, asked, "You any good at acting?"

"Uh..."

"You better be, cause I'm gonna let you get rid of the assholes. And if you
don't, your mom's history!"

"Manuel, please...." Kim was untangling herself, trying to sit up, but the
cord bound her so tightly she was unable to get upright.

He came over to the sofa, looked down with a snarl on his lips. "Yeah, you
do like I say or the hag gets wasted."

"I don't know, I'm no good at lying. They might guess I'm not being honest."

He began roughly untying her hands, then her feet, his voice low and
threatening, "You better pull it off, dig? You want your mom to live, huh?"
He grabbed her by the arms, hauled her to her feet, commanded, "Stand up!"

She did, but felt dizzy, unsteady. How could she do this? She'd never been a
good liar, and her mother often laughed at how easily she was caught in
little girl naughty tales.

"Look babe, you just tell 'em whatever you can, say your mom's asleep, you
know? And like, you don't wanta wake her up, or some shit. Hell, I don't
care what the fuck you say, just get rid of them!" He nudged her toward the
front door with the shotgun, and they both heard booted footsteps crossing
the wood porch, then a hard rapping on the door.

She cautiously stood by the doorway; Manuel went down the hallway, toward
the bedroom, disappeared inside.

Kim swallowed hard, trying to calm herself; she had no doubt but what Manuel
would kill her mother without the slightest hesitation, and this thought
made her strong, determined. She slowly opened the door, saw the uniformed
men, asked, "Officers, what can I do for you?"

"Hi Kimberly, sorry to bother you but we've been searching for a man who ran
from a trooper last night. A real hard-case, he might have headed this way.
We tracked him to Willow Baptist Church, lost his trail after that."

"Oh really?" Kim feigned surprise, widening her eyes.

"Yes, we lost his trail once he got past the graveyard, couldn't determine
if he went toward the highway or back into the woods. It's possible he got a
ride on the highway, may be long gone." He sighed. "Anyhow, we're warning
everyone to be on the lookout for him. He'd stand out around here, looks
Hispanic, real curly black hair, dark eyes, dark complexion." He paused,
then looked her directly in the eye. "You seen anything suspicious?"

Kim held his stare, shook her head, said as sincerely as she could, "No sir,
Officer McClinton. But if we do, we'll be sure to call it in."

"Where's Pearl? She lazy this morning?" McClinton grinned his lazy grin,
more like his usual self.

"Yes, she's sleeping in. Been tired from getting in the crops. Now that it's
all done, she's taking a little time off."

He tipped his hat, said, "Don't blame her. You ladies keep an eye out
though, just in case that lowlife is still hiding out in the woods." He
chuckled. "Coop, the trooper he gave the slip, he's mad as an old setting
hen, swears he'll get the guy." Sobering, he added, "You two out here alone
though, you be careful. Our men may be in the area most of the day, so you
can get help should you need it."

"Thanks." Kim rubbed her eyes, saying, "I'm still half asleep myself.
Sorry."

"Oh sure, I'd be sleeping too if I didn't have this detail. Well you take
care now, and tell Pearl I said hello."

He walked off the porch, joined his younger partner and they stood there,
talking in hushed tones. Kim closed the door, fell back against it and saw
Manuel striding up the hallway.

She realized he was furious, and he pointed the shotgun at her, accusing,
"That asshole deputy knew you both!"

"Of course he did! We see officers all the time, because mom shows her
Quarter horse, Copper, and several of the deputies have horses too."

"Who was that asshole?"

"Officer McClinton, about my dad's age..."

"Yeah, an old fart." He nudged the shotgun toward her, said, "Turn around,"
then put it at her back, leaning over to peek out the window. "They're
leaving."

Kim heard low grunts coming from the back bedroom.

Manuel snickered. "Good thing I gagged your mom, or we'd of had a big scene
here."

Kim thought fleetingly of how she'd lost a chance to somehow hint at their
predicament to the officers; but as Manuel poked the shotgun in her back,
she knew it was far too dangerous to provoke him. And he'd been listening to
her every word; yet why didn't she make a distress signal, do something with
her hands...? But if she'd given the least indication of trouble, Officer
McClinton would have surely said something to tip off Manuel. She asked,
"You heard? About the officers being in this area?"

"Sure, but I figured they would be. You done good babe, real good. Course if
you tipped the officer, you know, gave him a little sign or something, I'll
find it out sooner or later. Then it's gonna be curtains for you both."

Kim heard the flat, emotionless statement and knew he meant that; he was a
killer, the worst kind of killer, one who could snuff out life without the
least flicker of feeling. "Um, what are you going to do?"

"First, you sit down here, let me tie your hands." He pulled her down into
an armchair, quickly retied her wrists together, but as he bent to tie her
feet, she begged, "Please don't..."

He looked up at her, grinning suddenly. "Hey, you did get rid of the heat,
that's something. I'll leave your legs free, so's you can help in the
kitchen, huh?"

"What about mom? She must be hurting..."

"Nah, that fall didn't hurt the old hag. It'd take more'n that to put her
lights out." He studied her face a moment. "But hey, you been such a good
girl, I'll bring her in here."

He went to the bedroom, and Kim heard the harsh sound of tape being torn off
skin, then her mother shout, "You bastard!"

Then more softly, "I need to use the restroom."

Manuel came out into the hall, said, "I'll take the old lady to the john,
then you."

And he did, but he watched them both closely, keeping the door parted, not
allowing even the slightest chance for either to surprise him.

Afterward, he positioned the women at the kitchen table, retied them both --
said he couldn't really trust Kim, he'd decided.

He fixed eggs, fried, and then some toast, burnt; a hot pot of coffee, and
ate it alone. Both women watched him, unable to disguise their hunger. At
last he let Kim's hands loose, and gave her some cold cereal.

He would not, however, untie Pearl, wouldn't allow her to eat. Said he was
punishing her for what she did the night before.

Around ten, Manuel listened to a news broadcast, and heard his rap sheet
read on the air, which was no short task. Hell, he was officially an escaped
prisoner (that jail break in Atlanta!); but that was the least of his
troubles. When Mr. Zero in Miami got wind of his fuckup, his ass would be
grass -- you didn't lose a load of Zero's coke and live to tell about it!
That is, unless you could come up with a clever plan, get clean away -- or,
convince Zero you'd make amends, and that was nearly unheard of.

The newsman was droning on about his physical description, and the amount of
cocaine in the rental car... 

He told them grimly, "Man, I'm in the shitter! Have to lay low here a few
days, let the heat cool off, figure out a plan, a real smart plan. Or I'm
dead in the water."

                    *  *  *  *  *  *

Near noon, while Manuel was in the bathroom, Pearl whispered, "Kimberly,
there's that gun in the cedar chest, near my bed."

"I know mom, but we can't get it."

"I tried, last night. Worked on these cords, but couldn't budge them. Damn
him, coming here and doing this!"

Kim bit her lips anxiously. "Mom, he's not so bad. Just in a terrible
situation. Maybe he won't hurt us, just leave when he can?"

"Sugar, I hope you're right. But in the meantime, we'll have to try our best
to outdo him. We can't be certain he'll let us live to tell about this..."

Kim's quick intake of breath caused Pearl to amend, "But I think you may be
right. He may not hurt us, it would only compound his problems."

Manuel walked into the kitchen, asked, "You two having a good little chat?
Plotting something sneaky huh?"

They stared, quiet and still.

"Hey, I don't blame yous. Man, if I's in your shoes, I'd be worried too.
Racking my brain for a plan. But you just do as I say, we'll all get outa
this tight spot, dig?"

They nodded, wordless.

He had put on a t-shirt underneath the overalls, and modeled it for them.
"Real down-home dirt farmer, huh?"

Kim spoke up, "Where's your other clothes? We could stick them in the
washer, get them clean for when you leave."

"Babe, you real nice, you know it?"

Pearl added, "The washer and dryer are just outside the back door there, in
a corner of the garage."

"Say, you gettin real cooperative, huh? That's more like it, damn sure is."
He grinned. "Yeah, I'll put the pants and shirt in to wash, cause I didn't
see nothin in the old dude's clothes I'd be caught dead in." He gave an
ironic snort. "And I may just be dead soon!"

They watched him go out of the kitchen, and head down the hallway. Pearl
said, "Kimberly, if we can get him to untie you, then you make an excuse to
go in the bedroom, get your hands on that gun..."

He came waltzing back through the kitchen, his muddy clothing in his arms,
his voice in a stage-whisper, "You two still plotting, huh?"

They went silent, listened to him plundering around in the utility room, a
shouted curse as something hit the floor, then the washer starting. He
returned, went to the kitchen window and stared out at the hot sun. "Glad
you got this place air conditioned. It's hotter'n hell out there today, I
bet."

"Our summers are hot and humid, sweltering," Kim said, trying to be
friendly.

"I miss Miami. I usually cool off at the beach, hit the waves, dig that
ocean breeze. Man, I love my place in Fort Lauderdale, the speed boat docked
right at the backyard. Days like this, I take it out, let the ride cool me
off."

"I suppose if you live in Fort Lauderdale, have the best, then I was wrong
about your impoverished background," Pearl said.

"None of your business, now is it?" He snapped, defensive and suddenly
guarded.

"Mom, aren't you starving?" Kim asked.

Pearl nodded, but Manuel seemed to ignore her.

Finally she said, "Kimberly, those horses have to be fed, need to be let out
to pasture. It's hot in the barn, we usually feed them around six in the
morning..."

Manuel looked at her steadily, his face deadpan. "Is this some kinda ploy to
get me outa the house?"

"No," Kim said, "but if we never go out, some of the officers around this
area might notice. We live on a farm, there's always stuff has to be done
outside every day, always."

He leaned back against the counter, hitched his thumbs in the overall
pockets. "Uh huh, but just how we gonna pull this off?"

Kim shrugged. "I could feed the horses, let them out and then come right
back. Wouldn't take long."

"You did do a good job with the officers, babe. Should I trust her, do you
think momsy?"

Pearl said, "Yes, unless you want me to do it."

He shook his head, retorting, "Right. You bitch, I can't let outa my sight."
He turned to look out the kitchen window. There was no movement anywhere,
nothing...and he wondered if the officers had already pulled out? Yet he
couldn't be sure, so he flicked on the radio for an update.

Eventually the twangy country singer's voice died, and the announcer said
that the search for a wanted felon was still underway -- but didn't
elaborate on where it was centered.

Manuel sighed, said, "Okay Kim, you do like I say --feed the horses, come
straight back? I stay here, hold the shotgun on your mom, watch out the
window. I don't see you coming in...what, bout ten minutes? I let her have
it!"

"It'll take longer than ten minutes for the horses to eat," Kim advised.

"Man, don't feed them. Just let 'em out. Hell, horses eat grass, right? The
pasture's full of it, let 'em out, turn 'em loose. And come straight back.
Ten minutes, tops."

"Give me fifteen, just to be sure? I can't go running around out there, it'd
look suspicious. Any officer who'd see me would know I was acting strange."

"Yeah, okay." He threw up his hands. "You try anything sneaky though, momsy
here is dead. I've killed before, and I can do it again."

They both caught the dispassionate tone of his voice, and it came as no
surprise; he was capable of cold-blooded murder, and neither of them doubted
it.

Manuel untied Kim, and she grabbed her new hat, put it on, went to the back
door, stopped. He picked up the loaded shotgun and put it on the counter,
then stood looking out the window, glancing at the clock. "Go!" he
commanded.

Kim walked through the garage, went out a side door, crossing into the
backyard. The intense heat hit her, and she felt the humidity dampening her
long hair, causing it to cling to her neck. She wanted to run, but
restrained herself; her eyes remained fixed on the barn, and she walked
deliberately slow along the worn trail beside the pine thicket, feeling a
cool drift of air from deep within the shade, hearing bird calls.

At the barn, she hurriedly went into the dim interior and began talking in a
soothing voice to the three horses. Copper was high-spirited and had been
making impatient noises, seemingly agitated by the confinement. She let him
out first, hit him on the rear and he ran for the open pasture behind the
barn. Then she quickly let Jet, her Arabian, and Indian, the Appaloosa, out
and they headed for the pasture too.

Shafts of sunlight filtered down from the rafters in the barn roof, and she
momentarily looked around at the deadly instruments that could put an end to
their plight: a pitchfork, sharp implements for gardening, a hoe, shovel, a
sickle, a few knives they used for cutting garden vegetables. No use
thinking she could hide a knife; what if he searched her and found it?

Her eyes fell on several spray insecticides, and she remembered there was a
can on the screenporch too. It could be a weapon, sprayed in Manuel's eyes.

Or if she had something to write on,  large enough to hang at the rear of
the barn with a message for any officers in the area... But there was
nothing available.

Impetuously, she picked up one of the knives, and put it underneath her
loose shirt, sticking it in the belt of her jeans. Then, heart racing, she
left the barn and started back along the well-worn path, looking back to see
the horses grazing peacefully.

She remembered their water, and cut across to check the old bathtub where
they kept fresh water, near the barn. Usually the horses drank from the
pond, or a stream in the pasture; but it paid to be attentive about their
water supply.

Knowing her time was growing short, she was relieved to see plenty of water
from the day before. She turned for the house, walking fast but not giving
in to the impulse to run.

At the garage door, out of sight of the kitchen window, she slipped the
knife out, and as she entered the garage, put it behind the chest freezer,
pushing it well underneath it, out of sight.

Looking up, she saw Manuel staring out the door and she said, "I had to set
the freezer. It's too hot for it being on a low number."

He didn't reply, kept staring at her intently.

As she opened the door, he moved aside, but grabbed her as she stepped into
the house. "Yeah, you done good babe. Now let's see if you had any brain
storms, trying to hide something from me."

Kim felt his hands firmly on her shoulders, and squirmed. He said, "Stay
still!" took off her hat, tossed it in a chair.

She froze, heard Pearl snap, "Leave her alone! What do you think she did,
hide a pitchfork?"

He didn't respond, simply began patting Kim down, his hands running across
her waist, up underneath the loose blouse and then down along each leg,
searching carefully, thoroughly.

Kim trembled, wanted to escape, but surprisingly, realized his probing was
gentle and dispassionate, not suggestive in the least. She tried to hide her
distress, and asked, "Did I make it in ten minutes?"

"Yeah babe, you did." He stood, straightened, and looked into her flushed
face, winked. "You obey good, huh? Not like momsy here."

Kim said softly, "I need to use the restroom."

He stretched out his arms in a gesture of willing openness. "Hey, I trust
you. Go on, no ropes."

Kim walked across the kitchen, thinking about that gun inside the cedar
chest in the bedroom.

                   END CHAPTER


               CHAPTER SEVEN

Kim went to the bathroom, and then as she came out, Manuel was standing
there, grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

"Hey babe, you sure you didn't put something behind the freezer?"

"What?" She asked, alarmed but desperately trying to look calm.

"Yeah, look what I found!" He held up the knife, made a fast swish past her
face. "Little girl sneaky, huh?"

She stiffened her shoulders. "Look, I don't know where you got that, but
please keep it away from me!"

"It was under the freezer, babe. You put it there." He blocked her passage
as she took a step into the hall; she drew back, and said, "What? Are you
going to hurt me now?"

He took the knife and held it close to her throat. "I could kill you, in a
split second. See blood gushing all over this neat flowered house, the beige
carpet stained, ugly, the walls splattered with blood..."

Kim felt faint, and swayed.

He caught her by the shoulders, shoved her roughly toward the kitchen. "Get
back to your chair and sit down, pronto!"

She stumbled down the hallway, him close behind and when she fell into the
chair, he got the cord and tied her up, making it cutting tight.

"Ouch, that hurts!" she complained, angered now and sickened by his
malicious tirade.

"Sit still!" he commanded, his breath hot on her face.

"You two bitches, you gonna learn to do what I say." He stood, began a jerky
pacing around the room, then leaned against the counter. "I don't wanta hurt
you twos, less you make me. Got it?"

Kim was silent; Pearl looked away from him, unable to keep from blurting,
"You don't seem too concerned for our well-being -- I haven't had a bite to
eat."

He studied them a moment, then took several long, deep breaths to calm
himself, and quickly began rummaging in the refrigerator, got out cold cuts,
loaf bread, mayonnaise, dill pickles, put it on the table. As he got glasses
for ice tea, he said, "I'm gonna let you eat, but if you make one wrong
move, it's the last thing you'll ever eat."

Pearl was grimly watching him as he untied her, but said, "Thank you."

"You eat first, then Kim, and I'll wait till later," Manuel instructed,
holding the shotgun on Pearl.

The tension was palpable as they ate, each lost in their own dark thoughts.

          * * * * * *

By sundown Friday, Manuel had them positioned in the living room and while
drinking a Coors, he watched the evening news on TV.

Several stations in Birmingham and Huntsville showed extensive footage of
the manhunt; a helicopter he'd heard earlier provided an aerial view. But
nothing conclusive had been found, other than his jacket. Officers
interviewed said the trail was cold; they seemed to have lost him when he
sprinted across the open churchyard, even speculating he'd hitched a ride
out of the immediate area.

Later, as Manuel was watching a tabloid news show, laughing at the piece on
drugs and how off-base they were with their supposedly 'investigative
facts', the phone rang.

The women looked at him expectantly.

He remarked, "You twos don't have many friends, this the first time you get
a phone call."

"It might be Norman," Pearl said, anxious to talk to her husband.

"Oh yeah? He like, check in with you?"

The phone rang, and rang again.

"Kim, you answer it. But you pull another stupid stunt like this morning, I
won't be as nice." He thinned his lips, giving them a glimpse of his cruel
streak.

Quickly, he untied Kim, shoved her toward the phone. She answered, then
said, "Yes dad, we're doing fine. Everything the same as usual."

She glanced at Manuel; he nodded.

"Uh huh, mom's fine but she's out at the barn, grooming the horses."

Manuel grinned, nodded again.

"No, but I'll tell her you called."

She listened, looking steadily at Manuel.

"Okay, and you be careful. See you soon. Bye."

Manuel took the phone, hung it up and said, "See you soon? Like when?"

"Monday, if he makes good time," Kim said in a hateful tone.

He shoved her back to the chair. "Sit!"

She did so, but instead of tying her up, he knelt down in front of her,
looked into her eyes. "Hey, you mad?"

"What do you think? You shove me around, accuse me of hiding that knife...'

He touched her face and she flinched. "You did hide it, didn't you?"

Kim shook her head, the blond hair falling into her face, her lips pouty.
"No I didn't!"

He paused, seeming to rethink the incident; then stood, not tying her up.
"The news said the officers were still looking, but mainly on the roads,
major highways, watching cars, checking." He looked at her a long time. "How
about we go out to the barn, put out some feed for the horses. Together."

Pearl objected, "No! Just leave them out, no reason to put them up tonight."

Manuel grinned slyly. "Butt out momsy, I know you don't want me out there
all alone with your little girl."

Kim felt sudden relief; he seemed to have reconsidered, not sure she'd
planted the knife. She said softly, "Yes, I'll go with you."

He nodded. "Come on, let's go. You behave momsy!"

"As if I could do anything, hog-tied like this!" Pearl snapped, upset to see
them leaving.

They went through the kitchen, out into the dusky summer night, darkness
almost settled in. A quarter-moon lay in the eastern sky, and Kim looked at
the silvery-shadowed fields, the corn barely up, the soybeans not showing
yet. She walked along beside Manuel, her thoughts jumbled, trying to think
of a plan for action.

The pine thicket was alive with the singsong of crickets, and as they got to
the barn, Manuel stopped her. He looked off at the fireflies, their flash
like small beacons across the yard, darting beneath trees.

"I really will let you put out some feed, but I just wanted time alone with
you...to, like, ask about the knife."

Kim waited.

"I wanta trust you Kim, but I can't, see? I wanta take a chance on you,
see?"

She didn't reply, thinking he was softening, was allowing her to become
human, maybe even feeling some semblance of concern for her...

"Kim?"

She shrugged. "What do you want of me?"

"Hey, I'd like you to talk. Be...well, kinda like it was last night, you
know? When we talked, you telling me 'bout wantin to be a writer, not a vet.
Just sharing..."

"How can you say that? After what you did, accusing me of hiding that knife,
shoving me around..."

"How'd it get there then, huh?"

"Who knows? Maybe it fell off the freezer top, when we opened it, could have
been there from days ago..."

"So you didn't put it there?"

She moved away from him, sighed.

"Kim, hey, you know...this is a real pretty place here." He looked around,
seeing the sloped hills, the fields, the darkened silhouette of the barn
behind them. "Kinda isolated, but it's peaceful here."

"Can I put out the feed now?"

"Sure." They walked into the dark barn, and Kim flicked on a small electric
fixture which provided a soft, low light overhead.

She went to the back opening, whistled for the horses and then poured their
feed into a long wooden bin just outside the doorway.

As she turned, Manuel caught her in his arms; she went rigid, but forced
herself not to pull away.

He whispered huskily in her ear, "Sweeter than wine, soften than a summer
night, everything I want, I have...dance with me?"

She felt him enfold her in his muscular arms, bring her out into the wide
center of the barn, and then begin to twirl her around on the hay-strewn
dirt floor, humming and singing the words softly, "This magic moment with
your lips close to mine will last forever, forever till the end of time..."

It was the old fifties song, redone a few years ago by Rick James. Manuel's
voice was quite good, and he carried the tune perfectly, a natural rhythm,
an instinctive smoothness in leading her through the dance steps.

"Sweeter than wine, softer than a summer night, everything I want, I have,
dance with me till the end of time."

She let him move her effortlessly around, his arms strong and steady; he
breathed against her cheek, lowering her into a quick dip, then lifting her
up off the ground.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, surprised.

He set her down, saying, "Babe you got the moves, yeah!"

"Thanks," she replied, slightly out of breath, flustered.

Suddenly he pulled her close to him, and she could feel his heart thudding
against her chest. "Babe, you like a dream, a fantasy."

"Manuel..."

"Don't say anything." He let his lips brush her cheek, then pulled away.

"Manuel" she said, staring at his downcast face. "I know you could change
your life if you wanted to. Turn yourself in..."

He looked up, sighed loudly. "Too late, it's too late for me."

"It's never too late, not until we're dead. Where there's life, there's
hope."

He moved in close again, held her. "Feels so fine, holding you like this.
Bad timing though, dig?"

She was silent.

He shook his head. "See, it's like we live in different worlds. You ever
hear that song by Glenn Frey, Smuggler's Blues?"

"Yes."

"It's like he's writing about me, those lines go, 'It's the lure of easy
money, It's got a very strong appeal, Maybe you'd understand it better
Standing in my shoes, It's the ultimate enticement, It's the smuggler's
blues...'

"You don't want to change?"

Manuel was very still, very quiet; he knew, deep down, that he could never
live a straight life -- it was for fools, people who struggled along in a
daily grind they hated, never knowing any excitement, no thrills, not for
him. Yet he felt her starting to withdraw, and tightened his arms around
her, pressing his body tightly to hers.

She heard his sharp intake of breath, then a quickening of his heart and
felt scared, aware she was being held by a drug smuggler, a criminal,
possibly a cold-blooded killer.

He broke away suddenly, said gruffly, "Let's go, before I do something you'd
hate me for."

They walked back along the trail, sultry air like a damp blanket on their
skin, the countryside quiet and st
glittering above in the night sky.

At the back door, he stopped abruptly, took her hand. "Thanks for not
fighting me. I won't hurt you, I promise."

She tried to see his eyes, but couldn't in the dim light from the kitchen
doorway.

Once inside, they went into the living room, finding it empty. He looked
around wildly, cursing, "Damnit, your mom's gone!"

             END CHAPTER



            CHAPTER EIGHT

Kim stood just inside the living room, looking around, disbelief on her
face. "But how did she..."

Manuel yelled, "Hey momsy! Hey! Where you hiding? Come out, come
out...wherever you are!"

The house was quiet.

"But...how could she..." Kim began, then watched as Manuel came toward her,
pushed her down the hallway.

"You two had this cooked up, huh?"

"No! I swear, we didn't!" Kim protested, gasping as he grabbed her and shook
her hard.

"Where is she?"

"I swear..."

He suddenly looked into her parents' bedroom, exclaimed, "Hold it momsy, or
I'll give Kimmy a good slap!" He jerked her by the hair, raised his hand
menacingly.

Pearl, her hands and legs still tied, was backed against a waist-high
antique trunk. She had been trying to open it, get the gun, but now looked
steadily at him. "Let her go."

"Christ! You gotta learn I'll do what I say!" He snapped Kim's head
backward, pulling her hair viciously.

Kim screamed, pleaded, "Don't...please don't!"

Pearl shouted, "Stop it! It's me you're angry with, not her! She's done
nothing."

Manuel eased off, letting go of Kim slowly. He then swung her around, face
to face, and held her firmly, his arms tightening about her, pressing her
against him suggestively. He kissed her long and deep, then shoved her
roughly away, saying, "See what you make me do, old bag?"

Pearl declared, "Leave her alone!"

Kim was confused, bewildered by Manuel's erratic mood swings; he'd seemed
almost tender, caring in the barn -- but had swiftly turned violent,
abusive.

He told Kim, "Help me get her back to the living room."

They went into the bedroom, and Manuel studied Pearl in the dim light from
the hallway; he flicked on a bedside lamp, asked, "What's so interesting in
that trunk, huh? More important than making a phone call for help, unless
you tried that to?"

Pearl thinned her lips, stubbornly quiet.

Kim said, "Mom didn't call anyone, she's tied up. How could she?"

"Yeah, but look at her -- she got in here, and coulda got the phone off the
hook..." He glanced at the bedside phone, still in place, seemingly
untouched. "She mighta got it off the hook...hit 911."

Kim begged, "Please don't hurt her..."

Manuel told Pearl, "You keep it up, you gonna get your innocent, pure little
girlie here killed!"

"How do I know what you may have already done to her in the barn? You're an
animal!" Pearl screamed, eyes fiery with outrage.

"Mom...he, uh, he didn't hurt me..."

"It's a good thing he didn't or..."

"Or what?" Manuel asked, staring intently at Pearl. "What you gonna do,
huh?"

"If you hurt her, so help me I'll make you pay!"

Manuel grinned, a nasty, feral grin, and said, "Enough of this bullshit. I'm
not gonna hurt Kim, but I wouldn't mind putting you in your place, bitch."
He went over to Pearl, slapped her face so hard it knocked her head
sideways, the blow forcing her back against the trunk. He grabbed her
underneath the arms, lifting her forcibly to her feet. "Get moving, bitch."

She wobbled awkwardly in front of him, Kim following and Manuel shoving them
roughly, nearly making Pearl fall, stumbling into the walls and then being
pushed into a hardback chair, where Manuel tied her to it.

Kim was watching, and he instructed her to sit down in the armchair, where
he tied her up again.

Subdued, Kim looked at her mother, afraid and worried; she'd thought Manuel
was growing to trust her, but this had ruined it.

"Kim, I'm taking you with me when I go," Manuel said offhandedly.

"What? No, you can't!" Pearl protested.

"Damn sure am, and you can't stop me."

"Please..." Pearl begged, "take me instead."

"Shut up bitch!" Manuel stood looking at her, grinned the chilling grin.
"I'm gonna search that trunk, see what you's after. You twos can sit here
and squirm."

He went down the hallway, disappeared into the bedroom.

Kim whispered, "Why did you try for the gun? Now he'll never trust me."

"Trust, ha! He doesn't know the meaning of the word."

"Mom, look, if I could get him to trust me I might be able to...well,
influence him and...trick him into getting careless."

They heard Manuel begin to attack the trunk, hammering it with something,
wrecking the treasured antique.

Pearl said, "He's a heathen, no morals, no respect for anything or anyone!
Don't make the mistake of thinking you can deceive a con...he's not stupid,
seems smart but he's deadly, wouldn't hesitate to hurt you, regardless of
what he's saying."

Suddenly they heard Manuel yell, "Shit! So this's what you twos was after!"
He came striding along the hallway, holding up the small .22 pistol. "Gonna
blow me away, huh?"

Pearl glared at him; Kim said nothing either, but averted her eyes.

"Gotta hand it to you momsy -- you got guts. Gonna just kill me in cold
blood, huh?"

Nothing.

"You done it now, cause I got the piece and you're to fault for that." He
rolled the small gun in his hand, checked to see it was loaded, admiring it,
then pointed it at Pearl. "Should give you a little pop right between the
eyes, end your bitching."

Kim interjected, "Please don't point that, it might go off!"

He snickered wickedly. "Accidentally on purpose, huh?"

Kim closed her eyes, trying to shut out the fear and danger; she leaned back
in the armchair. "Can't you just turn on the TV, let us rest, stop provoking
mom?"

He stood looking at her, and for whatever reason, seemed to realize there
was no point in clashing with Pearl. He flicked on the TV, fell into the
recliner, pocketed the gun in the overalls. The TV programs whizzed by as he
used the remote control, sullenly saying, "Shit, you don't get cable?"

"No," Pearl replied, "we don't watch that much television. The farm keeps me
busy and Kim has her books."

A hush fell over them, and they all sat watching the wild car chase on a
moldy re-run of 'Hawaii Five-0'.

Kim was thinking she'd have to go with him, and wondering if she'd get away
alive.

Pearl was thinking she had to prevent him taking Kim, at any cost to
herself.

And Manuel was thinking he was a dead duck if he didn't leave by Saturday
night; Mr. Zero would put out the word on him, he'd never work again -- Zero
might even hire a hit on him if he didn't make contact by Monday, or if Zero
heard this piece of news in the media before he could get back to Miami, and
wheedle his way out of this ass-end predicament.

             END CHAPTER


             CHAPTER NINE

After the ten o'clock news, and an update on the search (which now seemed to
be less of an item, waning even among law enforcement officers interviewed)
Manuel shut off the TV, said, "I'm figuring, like, to search the house. You
twos might be holding out on me."

"We're not," Kim stated, looking him in the eye, her face open, honest and
vulnerable in its innocent beauty.

"Hey, I'd like to believe you, babe, but momsy here makes me antsy, like
she's up to something."

Then in a swift move, he had Pearl by the hair. "If the law shows here, you
and Kim are dead! I got nothing to lose, dig?"

"I told you, I didn't call anyone. Besides, Kim had nothing to do with it."
She groaned, loath to let him see her distress but her head was aching from
the hair pulling.

He looked at Kim. "She better be telling the truth, for all our sakes."

"Please let her go. Mom has migraines, and you'll bring on one by pulling
her hair..."

Shaking his head, he let go of Pearl's thick blond hair, and pushed her
roughly aside. "You think you can stay put while Kim helps me look over this
place? You got another gun hid somewheres?"

Pearl said, "No more guns. Go on, search and see if I'm lying." She looked
toward Kim. "I'm getting a headache, would you bring me a Stanback from the
cabinet?"

Kim looked at Manuel; he nodded, then hastily untied her.

He followed her to the bathroom, watched as she removed Stanback powders
from a box in the medicine cabinet, and got a glass of water, taking it to
Pearl.

As she held the glass of water with mixed aspirin powders for Pearl to
drink, Manuel said, "Damn, all these flowers! You must like em, huh?"

"Yes, we do," Kim responded. "Mom and I put up the wallpaper, tulips and
daises are a pretty design, and we both chose the antique furniture, the
wooden tables and stuff, from a nearby farm auction. I do needlepoint, made
the pillows, and mom does embroidery, so she designed the decorative wall
portraits, did the little flowers on the fringed shades underneath those
tulip curtains."

Manuel touched an arrangement of fragile porcelain platters and vases with
delicate blue-colored flowers etched on them. The fresh-cut petunias and
roses from yesterday were now wilting, but he sniffed them anyway. "Hey, you
gonna have to pick some more roses, huh?"

Kim set the glass down on a coaster, careful not to harm the antique coffee
table. "We used the beige carpeting to soften the effect. And in the
kitchen, we painted the walls peach, used modern decor, then down the
hallway with the same wallpaper, but each bedroom is different."

"Bout time I saw yours, right?" He came over to her, tugged her toward the
hallway. "But first, what's in this hall closet?"

Kim opened the louvered closet door, saying, "Just linens, towels, sheets,
stuff like that."

"What about your dad, he hunt?" Manuel watched her face closely.

"No, mom hates it. He did long ago, when they first married, but she must
have got him to quit." Kim grinned. "Mom usually gets her way around here."

"You can say that again, from what I've seen," he said, giving the closet a
cursory inspection.

"Down the hallway here is my bedroom." She led him to the closed door. "You
can look around, but I promise there's nothing in there but junk, no guns. I
hate guns."

He put his hand on the doorknob, looked at her and then opened the door. She
said, "The light's on the right, but I use my Tiffany lamp most of the
time."

He went into the dark room, bent to a small round cloth-covered table,
snapped on the lamp. It lit the room in a warm glow.

Kim said, "I decorated this room myself. How do you like it?"

He stood there, gazing at the splendid array of femininity -- a wonderful,
exotic scent enveloping him. He sniffed appreciatively. "Smells good, like
you."

She smiled, said, "Actually, I could use a shower, didn't get one last
night."

He moved back, studied her disheveled appearance, thought she still looked
clean, but said, "Tell you what, I'll poke around out here while you take a
quick shower. How's that?"

"Great!" she enthused, relieved he might be beginning to trust her again.

He looked the room over, fingering the patchwork quilts on her bed; then
touching a similar quilt hanging on the wall behind the headboard. His eyes
drank in the cool blue-and-white colors mingled into subtly matching walls,
curtains and table covers; there were paisley shawls, bright pillows piled
on the bed, and a mixture of bamboo and Victorian pieces placed in the small
room, a faded Oriental rug on the floor, and a huge wicker desk with chair.

Kim was quietly watching him and asked, "Can I get clean clothing?"

"Sure thing," he mumbled, still engrossed in the serene mood she'd created
in the room, thinking how much time and attention she'd put into this. He
noticed fabric cutouts glued to plain paper shades, echoing the flowered
blue-and-white color scheme.

She was rummaging in her tiny closet. "Geez, things are getting crammed in
here."

He stepped up behind her. "How about that dress, huh?"

"This one?" She pulled out a t-shirt styled, knee-length dress in pale pink,
long-waisted, with a gathered striped skirt.

"Yeah, you'd look dynamite in that number."

"Okay, it'll be cool too." Kim started for the door, but he caught up to
her, taking her arm. "Babe, you not gonna pull a fast one, huh?"

"No, I give you my word." She smiled, showing her perfect white teeth,
trying to look like she meant it.

He watched her go into the bathroom at the end of the hallway, leaving the
door partway open.

Taking his time, Manuel began sorting through the closet, looking at Kim's
meager wardrobe; if she was his woman, he'd certainly dress her like a Queen
-- what she was, in a way. But he realized what few clothes she did own were
tasteful and stylish, which he admired in a woman. He cut off his thoughts
abruptly, anxious about where they were leading.

Standing at the wicker desk, he admired the neatness: no random papers,
everything in its place. A long shelf nearby held books, mostly fiction, a
few reference manuals, from what he could see.

He heard the shower stop, and called, "You finished?"

Kim yelled, "Yes, be out in a jiffy!"

Manuel went through her desk drawers, seeing a variety of things: canceled
checks, a stack of typing paper for the small word processor on the desk,
pencils, pens, paperclips, tidbits of high school memorabilia.

One drawer at the very bottom was locked, and his curiosity piqued, he
jimmied it with a letter opener. Inside lay a velvet-covered book, which he
took out and opened. It was a personal journal, and he sat down on the edge
of the bed, reading slowly, regretting the lack of speed. But since dropping
out of school in the eighth grade, his reading and writing skills left
plenty to be desired.

When Kim came into the room, he looked up and grinned. "Hey, you're a doll
in that dress, a real knockout!"

Kim blushed. "Thanks. What you got there?" Then as she came closer, she saw
what it was, ran to him, reaching for it, trying to get the journal away
from him.

"You had no right!" She shouted, still trying to pry it from his fingers.
"That's my personal diary, my private thoughts for my eyes alone."

He easily held her back, tossing the book on the bed. "What'sa matter?
Afraid I'll learn your secrets?"

"Please let me have it! There's nothing in it to concern you." She was
frantic, no one had ever read her journal and she lost her temper, shouting,
"I'm getting it!" and plunged for the book, falling upon the bed, wrestling
Manuel as he jerked it out of her hands, both of them struggling to hold
onto it.

Suddenly he started laughing. "Hey, this is wild!"

She sat up, breathing hard, glaring at him. He was grinning seductively,
flushed, staring at her with hot eyes.

Too late she realized he had her in a compromising position and started to
get up, but he pulled her back down on the bed.

"Wait a sec, okay?" He pulled her close alongside his body, sniffed her wet
hair. "Umm, you smell good."

Kim forced herself to go limp; she couldn't risk losing the trust she'd
built up again.

His husky voice whispered in her ear, "You feel real fine babe."

She felt the gun in his pocket as he pressed against her tightly.

         END CHAPTER


       CHAPTER TEN

"Kim, you okay?" Pearl called from the living room.

Manuel froze, said, "Tell her yeah, you fine."

Kim yelled, "I'm fine mom, just letting Manuel search my room."

His face was close to hers, and the black-brown eyes bored into her,
piercing in his intensity. He came up against her, and she felt his scratchy
beard stubble, said, "Ouch, that's rough."

He didn't say a word, just moved even closer, his lips coming down softly,
searchingly over hers. She felt a momentary impulse to pull back, but
didn't. In fact, as his lips gently touched hers, she responded with a
puzzling warmth, and let him kiss her openly, his mouth moving slowly,
sensuously... probing, seeking.

He jerked away brusquely, jumped up and said, "Shit! I'm sorry Kim. I just
wanted, just a second, just to let you know I'm NOT a animal, not like the
way I kissed you in front of your mom out there a while ago."

Kim was confused, bewildered by his statement. She lightly rubbed her lips,
the taste of him lingering. "Manuel, I never thought you were."

He stood motionless, looking at her like a man lost, a little boy who'd
wandered into some fantasy and didn't want to ever awaken. Finally he said,
"Yeah well, you mom does and I...I wanted you to know I can be gentle."

Kim swallowed hard. "Uh, about my journal..."

"I didn't read much, couldn't; I'm not that smart. See, I dropped outa
school...took up with a gang."

"Didn't anyone try to keep you in school?"

"No one much cared..."

"How awful!"

"Ah, it's nothin. But anyhow," he cleared his throat, continuing gruffly,
"the journal, it sounded like you were involved with Patrick..."

"Not anymore."

"Hmm, I just happened to read that part where he took you to the Christmas
party and tried to make you in the backseat of the car..."

Kim blushed furiously.

He grinned, then added, "Hey, so you a virgin. Rare bird these days, but you
know what? I understand, I do."

She looked up, all eyes and softness, vulnerable.

Manuel coughed. "Uh, now about you wantin to be a author..."

"I think we better get back to mom."

"No."

"Well..."

"You got a stereo, some music, a radio in here?" He asked, still reluctant
to break the mood.

Kim pulled the fabric away from a bedside table, and underneath was a
compact stereo. "What you like?"

"Gloria Estefan, she's real hot, you know?"

"Yes, I like her too." Kim selected a tape, slipped it in the deck, and a
sultry slow rhythm oozed from the speakers.

She asked, "You like this one?"

It was a popular song, 'Can't Stay Away From You', and as the romantic words
swirled into the room, Manuel listened, looking at Kim seriously. "Yeah, I
do."

She leaned on her elbow, smiling at him from the bed.

He sat down in a wicker armchair, staring with undisguised lust in her eyes.

Kim said, "You don't have much of an accent, to have been in Little Havana."

"Oh, I lost that fast, man. I just imitated the blacks more than the
Cubans."

"You speak any Spanish?"

"Yeah, I understand signs, and most of the language, but I refuse to speak
it much. Always thought it wasn't cool, dig?"

"I think it's a fascinating language."

"Maybe." He leaned back, getting comfortable, hitching his legs across the
chair arm. "I could use a shower too, but I'll wait till I get ready to
split, and change into my suit, don't need the jacket anyways."

Kim closed her eyes, humming along with the lost-love song.

He suddenly said, "You know, this is kinda like a date, huh?"

Kim murmured, "Uh huh..."

He got up, stood near her. "You a doll... wish we'd met in another time,
another place. It coulda been different."

She didn't reply, kept humming along with the music.

Pearl yelled, "Hey, what's keeping you two?"

Manuel, jarred out of his romantic trance, shouted, "Shit! Will you shut the
fuck up?"

Kim sat up, grimaced and shut off the stereo with a quick flick of her hand.

"Look, I'm sorry but momsy gets on my nerves. Yours too, from the stuff in
that journal."

She pleaded, "Please don't mention it to mom, okay?"

He lunged for the journal, grabbed it before Kim could stop him, and headed
out of the room, hollering, "Hey, have I got something here I wanta read you
momsy!"

Kim ran after him, frantic.

As he approached Pearl, he stopped and flipped open the journal, began
reading slowly:

"Mom gets to me sometimes. I wish she'd quit telling me how to live my life.
I don't really want to be a vet, but I've tried to do what she wants. I love
writing -- if only I could go to the University of Alabama, study creative
writing, not Auburn, have to take all those awful vet courses. I just want
to be independent, my real self..."

Pearl's face was ashen, and she looked up to Kim, who was shuffling her feet
around, her eyes lowered to the floor.

"Kim, you never..." she began, but stopped abruptly.

Manuel broke in, continuing:

"I want to live my own life, I want to find out who I really am, what I
want, not what mom tells me I like and want."

Kim made a move for the journal, but Manuel jerked it away and said, "What
you think momsy? Kim's not such a good little girl, huh? Got a mind of her
own, dreams..."

Pearl looked off toward the darkened windows, her face drawn and hurt.

"Mom, let me explain. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"You damn sure did, Kim!" Manuel exclaimed, tossing the journal down and
grabbing her by the shoulders. "Tell her the truth, before you wind up
living her dreams instead of yours!"

"Mom..."

He shook her, saying, "Be honest, huh?"

Pearl looked up, said, "Kimberly, you should have told me long before now. I
would have understood."

Kim went limp, tears stinging her eyes. "Oh mom, I just didn't want to hurt
you and dad, disappoint you both."

Manuel drew her toward the sofa, sat her down and said, "You two have a talk
now, huh?"

He moved over to the big recliner, sat down, staring at them as if he'd
actually accomplished a great feat, waiting eagerly to hear them discuss
this misunderstanding.

          END CHAPTER


        CHAPTER ELEVEN

Manuel sat staring at them; neither Pearl nor Kim spoke. At last, he said,
"Hey, you twos gonna make up, or what?"

Kim said, "Um, could you...uh, leave us alone so we can talk privately?"

He stood up, disgruntled, but said, "Yeah, I get it. You twos want to talk
alone, that's cool." But he got rope, tied Kim up and then went toward the
kitchen, saying, "Get to it, huh? I'm starving, think I'll see what's in the
freezer to eat."

As he raided the freezer, taking out frozen pizza, he could hear their soft
murmuring voices -- no heated argument, like he'd figured. But that didn't
matter, he was satisfied to get the conflict out in the open; hell, he
wasn't all bad, even if he did have an ulterior motive in bringing about
this confrontation. After he got a pizza pan, put the food into the oven, he
went to stand near enough to overhear their voices...

Pearl concluded, "Sugar, your dad I always wanted the best for you, and
although we watched you with books, always reading, daydreaming...I just
thought it was a pastime, nothing serious."

"I do love reading, but I also like writing. Remember me working on the
school newspaper, and that essay I wrote, it won first place in the school
competition..."

"Yes, I remember."

"I loved that, getting the recognition. I just couldn't tell you how much it
meant to me, not when you wanted me to be a vet so bad."

Pearl sighed. "Sweetheart, it'd be wonderful if you were a vet...but not if
you really want to be a writer."

Kim's voice sounded excited, "Mom, I think I can still get my registration
changed in time to go to the University of Alabama this fall."

"We'll make sure you do, baby." Pearl sighed again. "If only you'd told us
earlier..."

"I didn't want to disappoint you," Kim murmured.

"I did worry about your hyper-sensitivity, the lack of a tough edge in
working with injured animals. Remember that bird we found, the one with the
broken wing?"

"Yes, it finally died."

"And you moped around for days, just over a little wild bird."

Manuel moved into the doorway, said, "Hey Kim, wanta give me a hand with the
pizza?"

"Okay." He came over, untied her and she stopped to give her mom a hug, then
trailed behind Manuel into the kitchen.

He asked, "You get it all worked out, huh?"

"Yes. And thanks for sort of...uh, getting this out in the open."

He grinned, beaming. "Yeah, see, I'm not always such a bad dude."

She decided to take a risk, moved to his side, kissed him lightly on the
cheek. "No, I never thought you were."

Ducking his head, coughing, then looking into the oven, avoiding Kim...he
said, "Hey, this thing's about done."

Kim looked into the oven, got a potholder, took out the pizza pan, sniffing
the bubbly cheese topping. "Umm, it smells delicious. I love pizza."

"Yeah, me too. Course, this store-bought pizza can't compare to Moros,
that's black beans and rice cooked together, an old Cuban dish my grandpop
used to make."

"Oh?"

"I like Latin dishes, like you know... fried plantains, flan -- that's a
custard, and fish. Some of the restaurants in Miami cater to Cubans. Man,
they have good food. I love La Carreta, their Cuban sandwiches are the
best!"

"You must enjoy living there, south Florida is pretty. Or it looks like it
from what I've seen on TV."

"I was just thinking," Manuel suggested, "how you'd get a kick out of eating
in some of the classy Miami restaurants, like Cervantes. It's got wood
carved ceilings, arches, fancy porcelain plates for dining. Located at Coral
Gables. Man, their Cordero Segovia, that's lamb in sherry, some fine eating!
And they got, like, Vega Secilia, that's shrimp in wine with hollandaise
sauce, makes my mouth water just remembering it."

Kim stared at him, the flushed look of excitement on his face just from
talking about Miami restaurants. Yet she also knew his seeming ordinary in
this extraordinary situation was subject to outbursts of anger, if anything
set him off.

He was looking at her as she said, "Get me a knife, I'll cut the pizza."

Without the least hesitation, he got a large butcher knife from the cabinet
drawer, handed it over to her, standing well back from the counter...but
watching her closely.

She calmly cut the pizza carefully into serving slices, tasting some of the
melted cheese. "Um, this is good."

"Yeah?" He moved in close, and she lifted her finger with the cheese on the
end of it. "Here taste."

He did, licking the melted cheese off her finger as his eyes met hers; they
stood there transfixed, staring mutely.

The phone rang, and she jumped.

He commanded, "Answer it. But remember, I got my trusty pistol right here,"
patting his pocket as a reminder.

She let the phone ring once more, then picked up the receiver. "Hello."

She listened, then said, "Hi dad, how're you doing? Making good time?"

Manuel glanced into the living room, threatening Pearl in a low voice,
"Don't make a sound or I'll hurt Kim."

Pearl nodded, forcefully maintaining her temper, but thinking that somehow,
he seemed less intimidating now, in spite of the gun he'd just taken out of
his pocket. Maybe he was beginning to trust Kim? He certainly seemed taken
with her -- but what boy wouldn't be? She thought about all the times she'd
worried about Kimberly: great beauty could be a curse, and soon her daughter
would be away at college, at the mercy of predatory boys who would find her
irresistible.

Manuel stood close to Kim, listened as she said, "You too dad, and be
careful. I'll tell mom you missed talking to her. She'll be upset, but she
had to run to the store for milk."

Manuel grinned, giving her a thumbs-up sign as he replaced the receiver.
"You done good babe, real good. You gonna be a cool lady someday, you know
it?"

Kim went back to the pizza. "Dad is getting a little tired of these excuses.
He knows mom always makes it a point to be by the phone at ten." She was
lying, but why not give him a reason to be gone by tomorrow night? Or at
least prompt a quicker exit?

"Yeah, well...if all goes like I figure, he'll be surprised tomorrow night."

Kim got glasses, began putting in ice cubes. "Oh?"

"You and me's blowing this joint by dark tomorrow night."

"They you are taking me?" She filled the glasses with cola, and turned to
stare at him.

"Babe, look, you been real good, real cool. Don't mess up now, make me hurt
you, huh?" He nudged her with the gun. "I been thinking, like you
know...we'd make a real cool pair, be sorta like Bonnie and Clyde, dig?"

"Manuel..." Kim began, setting the glasses on a tray, putting the pizza pan
on it.

"Hey, let's not talk about it now, huh?" He put the gun in his pocket,
helped her with the food, and they went into the living room to eat.

Afterwards, he let Pearl loose and she ate, then went to the restroom. But
he stood there, the door slightly parted so he could see her feet, not lose
sight of her.

Pearl hurriedly scanned the bathroom, and saw the razor lying right behind
her. She eased one hand up behind her, being very careful and hardly moving
her body...got the razor, lowered it behind her, snapping out the
razorblade, concealing it in the waistband of her jeans when she got up.

Later, Manuel tied them both up again, and plugged in the small nightlight.
He got comfortable in the recliner, said, "I'm not sleeping tonight, gonna
catch the news, see if I can figure my next move."

Pearl had her hands tied behind her, her feet secured, trying to rest on the
quilt he'd spread on the floor for her; she got still, quiet,
waiting...hoping for a chance to use the lethal razorblade.

Kim wanted to sleep, and although she was worried about Manuel taking her
along, she thought maybe that was for the best. Perhaps she'd have a better
chance to keep him from harming her mother, eventually persuade him to let
her go.

But would he? Kim feared he'd never willingly let her leave him -- he wanted
her, she could see it, feel his smoldering lust every time he looked at her.
She just had to be cautious, and wait for a chance to escape...if there ever
was one.

               END CHAPTER


          CHAPTER TWELVE

It was a long, long night; Kim slept at last, but neither Pearl nor Manuel
ever did. By the first light of dawn Manuel got up and stretched his legs,
saying, "Damn I'm sore! Stuck in this house all the time. Hell, I usually
work out twice a week at the gym."

"Then why don't you leave?" Pearl suggested, glaring at him.

"Hey, I'm going...soon. Then you can just recall all the fun we had
together!" He laughed raucously, and that woke Kim.

She struggled to sit, yawning.

"Hey ya sleepy head," Manuel greeted her, winking. "Better wake up, we got
lots to do today!"

The phone started ringing.

"Hey, you gettin a call. Man, you twos don't never get calls."

"We do, but not much during the week. People, friends, know we're busy with
farming, tired at night..."  Pearl explained, glancing toward the kitchen.
"You going to answer that?"

"Me?" Manuel snickered. "Sure, and tell 'em I'm Kim's boyfriend."

Kim intervened. "I'll get it if you'll untie me."

Manuel did so, and she hurried to catch the phone on the tenth ring.

He was right behind her, now motioning for her to let him listen.

She held the receiver between them, hearing shrill female words, "Pearl...
is that you?"

"No, this is Kim."

"Honestly Kimberly, I thought I'd catch your mother before she went out to
do the farm chores..."

Manuel lifted his eyebrows, and Kim then said, "Mrs. Pelham, I'm sorry...but
you just missed her."

"You know that bazaar is today! We're counting on the cakes you and Pearl
are bringing. Your both still going to be there, aren't you?"

Manuel had taken hold of Kim's hair, jerking it just a touch. He put his
hand over the mouthpiece, said, "You two held out on me again, huh? Figured
the old broad would come around today, find out how things are here..."

Kim shook her head as they both heard the screeching voice of Mrs. Pelham
demanding, "Kimberly, you still there?"

"Yes ma'am. Um, something has come up, we won't be able to make the sale
today..."

"Of all the nerve! Why didn't you call? Don't you both know how disappointed
our pastor will be? We have to raise the money for the children's' summer
camp and..."

Manuel snapped Kim's head backward, pulling on her hair and mouthing, "Get
rid of her!"

"Uh...Mrs. Pelham...I'll have mom call you tonight, she can explain. I got
to run now."

As she hung up, they could hear the angry words still ranting, cut off by
the final click.

Manuel exclaimed, "Jesus Christ! What a bitch! Man, these old biddies and
their churchy ways."

Kim was biting her lips nervously, worried she'd just lost his trust again.

"Say, you twos held out on me again!" He moved back slightly, studying Kim's
face dispassionately. "Didn't you?"

"No, I swear...I forgot all about the bake sale. I mean, after what has been
happening her, how could I remember something like that?" Kim explained,
looking directly into his eyes.

Slowly he began to nod, agreeably. "Yeah, maybe you did but no way your mom
forgot. Course, she's out to trip me up, if she can. Maybe you too?"

Kim didn't look away, kept staring at him and then took a step closer.
"Manuel, what you said last night... about take me with you?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you mean it?"

He grinned. "Why, you still scared to go?"

"No." She leaned in close, touched his face with her hand, said, "I might
want to go, get away from this place. I've been so isolated, protected here.
Never seen the world, never been anywhere much...and you're so smart, been
so many places. If you could get out of this jam, maybe..."

Her words hung between them, tempting him. He pulled her firmly against him
and she could feel the barely leashed passion in his tense muscles. "Yeah
babe, it could be good, real good between us. hell, this little jam, it's
nothin."

"But how will you manage to elude the law?" Kim whispered in his ear, her
hand tracing his face, feeling the beard stubble on his chin.

"Hey, you leave to me. I been in worse spots than this, never done jail time
yet. Babe...if I thought, if I could trust you..." He held her away from
him, looked deeply into her eyes and then slowly, slowly kissed her,
mumbling, "Sweet Kimberly. Sweeter than wine, softer than a summer night
babe..."

She willed herself to play to his emotions, his physical attraction to her;
it wasn't easy when every nerve in her body screamed against his touch --
and yet, the more he responded, the weaker she became. There was something
vaguely exciting about him, and Kim could not dare let it influence her.

He ran a hand through her long blond hair, looking at her, saying, "You look
sorta like that movie star, what's her name? You know, the one who played in
that movie with Richard Gere, where he's a cop and she's a girlfriend of
some mobster-type down in New Orleans? I think it was 'No Mercy'?"

"Kim Basinger?"

"Yeah, you favor her some. But you're younger, prettier, more innocent. You
ever see '9 1/2 Weeks', with her in it?"

"No."

"Hot, raunchy stuff, dig?"

She forced a seductive smile, licking her lips. "Um, I'm... I don't have any
experience. Maybe you could teach me?"

He gave a low groan. "Man, I'd do that, yeah, damn sure would."

And she realized he'd been working toward this moment since he first saw
her; all the talk of helping her stand up to her mom, it was just a
smokescreen for his real intentions: Getting her to leave with him
willingly.

Pearl yelled from the living room, "Kimberly, who was that on the phone?"

They left the kitchen, Kim telling her, "It was Mrs. Pelham. We forgot about
the bake sale."

"Oh yes..." Pearl tried to sound surprised, but in fact she'd never
forgotten it for a moment; she had been hoping the nosy busy-body would come
looking for them when they didn't show up today.

Manuel looked at Pearl sternly. "Your plan didn't click, huh?"

She shrugged. "Never hurts to try."

"Yeah, you never quit!" He loomed over her, pointing a finger in her face.
"Me and Kimmy got a little surprise for you, but we'll wait till tonight to
tell you, huh babe?"

Kim nodded, and saw her mother turn white with fear. "Kim, what's he talking
about?"

"Mom..."

"Shut up, shut the fuck up! I'm tired of your whining, bitch!" Manuel turned
on his heel, hurried down the hallway, went into the bathroom, and came back
holding a washcloth. He gagged Pearl's mouth, saying, "That'll shut you up!"

She moaned, halfway choking on the gag, shaking her head back and forth.

Kim moved forward, but caught herself and said, "Is that really necessary?"

"Yeah, for now. And don't speak to her, huh?"

Kim nodded compliantly, then asked, "The horses...can I put out fresh
water?"

"Go on. Hey, I trust you." He grinned, winked conspiratorially.

Pearl's eyes widened, signaling to Kim that she acknowledged her success in
gaining Manuel's trust. But she didn't think Kimberly knew what she was
doing -- Manuel was no fool. He had told them he'd killed before, and Pearl
had no doubt of it. Just how long Kim could keep him calm and seemingly
trusting her was anyone's guess.

                 END CHAPTER


           CHAPTER THIRTEEN

When Kim returned, Manuel told her, "We'll fix some breakfast, plan our the
trip."

She didn't argue, and went willingly into the kitchen to start bacon, eggs
and toast cooking. As they worked side by side, he talked animatedly, "Babe,
you won't believe Fort Lauderdale, it's heaven on earth! Never extremely hot
like here, just about 75 degrees year round. And water, everywhere! Step out
my backdoor, and there's the boat, waiting. I got a real beaut, a speed
boat, that baby will fly!"

Kim smiled, urging him on with her nod.

"And miles and miles of sandy white beaches. That's where all the college
kids take their spring breaks, and I used to watch the girls, pick out the
best shapes."

He paused, winked. "Hey, I bet I'd have met you there someday? If I'd ever
seen you in a bikini, wow! I'd had to make a move on you!"

She asked, "Did you meet lots of girls?"

"Yeah, I've had lots of girls. Just sex, you know?"

She didn't doubt it; he was good-looking in a rugged, tough way, appealing
to most women who were lured by animal magnetism. His body was in excellent
shape, and he had an arrogant aggressiveness, the kind of super male ego
some women found irresistible. But all those women, casual sex...could he
have AIDs?

He continued, "Hey, since you like horses, there's a place close to Fort
Lauderdale, Davie, lots of cowboy-types there, horse farms and even a
rodeo."

"Really?" Kim asked, putting the food on the table.

He helped her get the coffee, and then sat down. "Yeah, and the ponies run
close by too, at Gulfstream Park and Pompano Park Harness, both good for
winning bets. Oh hey, I almost forgot about jai-alai; it's a kinda high-
speed ball game, brought from Spain. Real dangerous and exciting, you can
place bets too."

"You gamble a lot?" Kim looked at him over the rim of her coffee cup.

"Some." He swallowed a bite of egg, sipping his coffee. "I usually win."

"You do?"

"Almost always anyhow."  He leaned back, pushed his food away. "Look Kim, I
know all this sounds wild to you, huh?"

"Well...I've been sort of sheltered here."

"Your mom keeping you a little girlie, huh? But you wanta change, cause I
saw it the minute I came here." He rubbed his chin reflectively. "I can give
you a education, better than the one you'd get at college. Hell, if you
wanta be a writer, come with me...someday you'll know enough about the drug
trade to write a bestseller!"

She perked up, suddenly interested. "Oh? How so?"

"Shit, you think all that crap on TV is real? Man, it's so far off-base it
ain't even close to facts. I can show you how we operate, what it's like to
be on the inside track. If we split, you'll have your notes..."

"I thought you said you couldn't get out of the 'business' once you were in
it?"

He sat up straight, looked at her and grinned. "Not me, no...I can't get out
easy. But hell, you'll just be my little babe, no threat. You can act daffy,
dumb... and hell, who'd want to do you anyway?"

"Do me?"

"Snuff you, kill you." He saw the alarmed look cross her face and amended,
"I mean, I wouldn't let no one touch you. I'd protect you."

She swallowed, her mouth going dry, took a sip of coffee, pushed her uneaten
food away. "Manuel, if I do go with you..."

"Hey, you said you was!"

"Okay, but um...will you promise not to hurt mom and just leave her tied?"

"Sure. Hey, I wasn't gonna hurt her no way."

Kim doubted that, but smiled warmly. "Fine. Where we going first?"

He leaned forward, both elbows on the table, and began telling her what
they'd do once it got dark.

             * * * * * *

Around noon, Manuel listened to the news on the radio; there was only a
brief mention of the search, saying authorities feared Manuel had somehow
gotten out of the area, maybe hitched a ride that first night before it was
widely known of his break from the trooper. There were no ongoing searches
in progress, no road blocks now. He exclaimed, "Hey, cool! We're on for
tonight!"

Pearl's eyes bulged, and she tried to mumble something through the gag in
her mouth.

Kim, sitting on the sofa, asked, "Mom, you need to go to the restroom?"

She nodded.

Manuel cursed, "Damnit, you nothin but trouble!" He got up reluctantly,
untied her hands and feet, but left the gag in her mouth, saying, "I don't
want no bad-mouthing."

They went down the hallway, leaving Kim in the living room; for the upteenth
time, she wanted to make a move...but Manuel had the handgun, had unloaded
the shotgun, and was still agitated, in control of her mother too. She sat
there, numb with fear and indecision.

Manuel stood just outside the bathroom door, keeping it open enough to peek
inside if he chose.

Inside, Pearl hastily took the razor out of her waistband, slipped it in her
hand, concealing it as she came out the door.

Manuel took one look at her, demanded, "Finished?"

She nodded, and he gave her shove forward in front of him, causing her to
stumble, moving slowly and awkwardly. Once back to the chair, she sat down
and he leaned over in front of her, meaning to tie her hands, saying, "You
not a bad-looking woman to be so old, but you got a attitude problem."

Pearl whisked the razor between her fingers, flashing it and in one swift,
fluid motion, the sharp, thin edge connected with Manuel's jaw. He shrieked,
jumping away and holding a hand to his gashed chin.

Pearl lunged forward, coming at him, sadistically wielding the razor, but he
side-stepped her and she fell to the floor, sprawling there face-down.

Kim was on her feet, moving toward her mother...

"The bitch cut me!" Manuel kicked Pearl brutally in the side, shouting,
"You'll pay for that, bitch!"

Kim pleaded, "Please don't hurt her anymore..."

He seemed wild, in a frenzy as he put his foot on Pearl's back, stomping her
and reaching down to grab her by the hair of the head, snarling, "Where's
the piece, give it here!"

Pearl was gasping, sputtering but refused to give him the razor, had it in
her hand, but he bent down, putting his knee at the back of her neck,
forcing her head up, his fist hitting her hard on the back, knocking the
breath out of her as he took her limp arm, shaking it and seeing the razor
fall out of her hand, a lethal weapon. He shouted, "You bitch! You meant to
kill me!"

He reached for the razor, held it up to Kim, looking incredulous. "See this?
She meant to off me!"

Kim sunk to her knees beside Pearl. "No, she didn't mean to kill you, only
hurt you, get us free. I told you how protective she is of me."

Pearl groaned, then moaned; Manuel tightened his grip, jerking her head up
hard. "I oughta kill you, bitch!"

Kim reached out, touching his bleeding jaw. "Let me help you, you're
bleeding."

Her touch seemed to calm him. "First, let me take care of her!" Yanking
Pearl to her feet, he walked her down the hallway, opened the linen closet
and shoved her roughly inside. He then bound her hands behind her, securing
her feet at the ankles, cinching the cords excruciatingly tight.

Slamming the door shut, he said, "That's the last I wanta see of her, you
got it?"

"Yes, okay...whatever you say. Mom would be trying to convince me not to go
along with you and..." Kim bit her lips, forcing herself to remain in
control; she wanted desperately to help her mother, but if she allowed her
feelings to show, he'd only become enraged.

"You got some bandages, something here to fix this cut?" He asked, studying
her closely.

"In the kitchen, there's some gauze and antiseptic. Come on."

He followed her, wondering how in hell she was staying so calm, cause she
had to be worried about her mother, no doubt about that. But maybe, if he
could just get her away from here...

Kim rummaged in the cabinet, got antiseptic and gauze, then told him to sit
at the table. She carefully cleaned the cut, and saw it was only a flesh
wound. If her mother had had a second longer though, the razor would have
gone lower, to his throat, killed him almost instantly.

She put on the antiseptic, and he flinched, asking, "Is it bad? Gonna make a
ugly scar?"

"No, just a minor wound. It'll be okay, if you keep it clean."

"Man, she meant to kill me!"

Kim was noncommittal, but thought it odd he seemed so amazed; after all, he
was a killer. But maybe he found it inconceivable that a law-abiding citizen
would be so quick to kill -- or was it just that he found it difficult to
believe a 'woman' would kill?

After she finished bandaging his jaw, she sat at the table opposite him.
"The news reports were favorable, so I guess we'll still be going after
dark?"

"You got that right! Hell, I can't take no more of your mom. Sooner we
leave, the better."

          * * * * * *

Late that afternoon, Kim said she had to take care of the horses, find her
two tomcats, feed them and do some outside farm chores, especially since
they would be leaving her mom tied up, not discovered till Monday, when her
dad returned.

Manuel agreed, and stood inside the screen porch watching her go about the
yard, calling sweetly for the cats. A solid black cat came slinking out of
what Kim had told him was the scuppernong arbor. She petted the cat, put
down cold milk and some dry feed. Soon a large fat calico also joined them,
arching its back as Kim cooed and stroked its fur.

Manuel called, "Hey, those are lucky cats, huh?"

Kim grinned. "I love 'em, yes!"

He looked around, saw the jungle-like vines he'd encountered that first
night, the entangled, twisted growth devouring a corner of the far pasture.
"Hey, what's that stuff?" he yelled, pointing.

"Kudzu, curse of the South," Kim replied, still grinning. "Imported from
Japan, and now it's eating us up alive!"

He watched her roam around, doing small chores like watering the flowerbeds,
checking the bird feeders, and then heading off down the trail toward the
plank barn. He thought she was some kinda gorgeous: long blond hair, man! He
couldn't wait to get her in the sack! But it had to be willingly, no rape --
unless absolutely necessary.

Manuel grinned, thinking how his slick-talking ways with women always got
him what he wanted eventually. But little Kimmy, she'd been a challenge from
the first minute he laid eyes on her. He was the big bad wolf, ready to
pounce when the time was just right.

His grin drew out into a thin line, a suspicious gleam in his eyes as he
realized he couldn't trust her, no way! She was going to make a run for it,
first chance she got. And when she no longer feared for her mom's life, when
they had got clean away...

But he told himself that once in Florida, once he got her in the sack,
turned her onto coke, man, she'd forget her Hicksville roots. Take her to
Petite Marmite, on ritzy Worth Avenue in Palm Beach, him decked out in a
pricey suit and all, show her that classy place with the garden, a skylight,
plants, brickwork, wrought-iron tables and, man, order a high-priced meal,
fine wine...yeah, she'd be damn impressed! Hell, she might never leave him.
The only thing was, what if he got bored with her? He told himself it was no
problem though... hell, women come and go, no problem to get rid of them.

When Kim came back inside, Manuel told her, "I need a shower, huh? Then get
into my suit... Uh, I gotta do this babe, tie you up while I'm in the
shower. You understand?"

She pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. Man, that was a sexy look! He
suddenly felt a rush of heat go through him, wanting her badly. But he held
back, yeah...biding his time.

Manuel tied Kim up in a chair, went and took a long, cold shower, shaved and
then put on his clean suit. He felt refreshed, ready for anything...and man,
soon he'd be getting in little Kimmy's pants, couldn't hardly wait for that!

        END CHAPTER


       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Manuel insisted they eat another pizza, that Kim then shower, change into a
cool outfit of white capri pants and black-and-white striped blouse, even
going so far as to brush out her hair for her, put in a clasp.

She asked, "How about my clothes? Should I take any?"

"Forget it babe. I'll buy you a new wardrobe," he advised, studying her tall
build. "You could be a model, you know it? Would you like that?"

"Why? Could you help me?"

"I do have connections, friends in high places," he bragged.

She knew he was lying, but went along with it, enthusing, "That'd be great!"

At her insistence, Manuel let her give Pearl some water, tell her they were
leaving, and then he tied her up again in the bedroom. The old bag was
frantic, but seemed to realize, at last, she was helpless --like most women.

Kim walked through the house, turning out lights and checking the thermostat
on the air conditioning unit, saying it would be cool in there for her
mother. She kept hoping that Manuel would leave without bothering her mother
again, and to that end, tried to seem eager to get gone.

Finally, Manuel took a long last look at his suave reflection in the mirror,
admiring his darkly handsome image, smoothing his curly black hair. "Hey,
we're outa here babe!"

Kim felt a moment of victory, glad he had seemingly dismissed her mother,
but then he looked toward the hallway. "I oughta give the old lady a little
pop right between her eyes, get rid of her for your dad. Christ, how anyone
could put up with that mouthy bitch!"

Kim leaned close to him, coaxing, "I'm ready, let's go! Can't wait to get
away from here, please...?" She gave him the sexy pout, and he grinned,
taking her arm and saying, "Yeah, who cares about the old lady, you won't be
back here no ways."

As planned, Kim was to drive the pickup, Manuel at her side; they'd packed a
food basket, and would drive straight to Miami, nonstop.

The night was typically humid, muggy and still hot from the day as Kim slid
into the Ford XLT Lariat, asking, "Where do you suggest we get gas?"

"The tank's half full, so not until we're out of this county," Manuel said,
slipping in beside her.

She started the truck, heard the engine idling smoothly. "We're off!"

He thought she sounded excited; but then, he still didn't buy this act. Give
her some time...yeah, then she'd be a different girl, learn some new tricks!

Kim backed out of the garage, turned down the dirt road and drove slowly
through the narrow passage, low-hanging limbs almost brushing the truck. She
said, "It's three miles to the highway; mom always said this little dirt
road gave us our privacy."

"Your mom's a nut about being alone, huh?"

"Um, yes...she does cherish her privacy. She's sort of a loner, but I
understand. Her dad raised her alone, since her mother died at childbirth,
and she was always alone growing up. She goes to church, a few other social
activities, but never invites many people to our home."

"Yeah, and it was a lucky thing for me! I couldn't believe there was no
calls, no one coming around," Manuel said, watching the billowing dust
behind the truck.

"Dad's gone so much, but he's retiring next year, said he'd help on the farm
more, and mom's really looking forward to that."

"Hey, you think she'll be trouble, you know, start looking for you when she
gets loose? Cause, hey, we can go back, I'll pop her..." He turned to her,
staring intently at her profile in the deep twilight, darkfall coming fast.

"She may try to find me at first, tell the authorities about what you said,
about Fort Lauderdale...but, you can always outsmart the law, can't you?"
She looked directly at him, hoping to show an admiring gleam in her eyes.

He snickered fiendishly. "Sure thing! Man, when Mr. Zero hears how I got out
of this fix, even if I did lose the load, he'll probably make me head man."

"Mr. Zero, but I thought you said he never tolerated mistakes?"

"He...oh, never mind. Look, this pickup is okay for now. But like, we should
ditch it in Birmingham, grab us a fast mother."

"What?" Kim glanced at him, perplexed.

"Wish I had my Camaro, man it flies! But yeah, we'll steal a car in the
city. For now, let's hit the backroads, just like on that map I showed you.
No interstate. Remember, you said you knew the best route to Birmingham?"

Kim slowed, pulled up to the highway, said nervously, "Here we are. Now, if
we take this two-lane west and hit Highway 78 into Birmingham, we'll be off
the interstate."

"Cool. Shouldn't be no trouble." He leaned over, touched her chin and turned
her briefly to him. "Babe, we gonna make it. I'll keep an eye out for the
law."

She was silent, glad only that her mother was safe. Now, if she could only
manage to get away from him...but the timing had to be perfect.

            *  *  *  *  *  *

The trip passed in near silence, and at last they were heading dead into
Birmingham. Kim knew it was soon going to be time to put her plan into
action. But first she had to ask, "Manuel, uh, I was wondering...about
stealing a car..."

"Yeah, no sweat. I done it plenty times."

She merged with the traffic, seeing it was rather heavy, Saturday night
party-goers, the bar-hopping crowds heading into the city for fun. "Uh, I
was just wondering..."

He slid across the seat, leaned in close, asked, "What?"

"I'm afraid. Won't that be risky?"

He placed his hand on her knee, suggestively rubbing it. "Don't be afraid.
Look, I gotta idea... How about we check into a motel?"

She felt her heart race. "No...uh, don't you want to get to Miami soon as
possible?"

"Not really. See, like, we been together for days, and I'm...well, hard up,
you know?"

She felt sick; this was so sudden, and she didn't see how she could stall
him further. "Oh...I...um, Manuel..."

"What? Didn't think I'd want some? Look, I know you a virgin...but hell,
I'll be gentle. See, I never had no cherry before, I'm in a bad way...dig?"

He was stroking her thigh, slowly and seductively. "Babe, I figured I could
wait till Miami, but now we're all alone, what's to stop us? I mean, we're
free, got all the time in the world."

She licked her dry lips nervously and he groaned with lust. "Man, you are a
sexy thing!"

She didn't reply, simply kept her eyes on the busy highway. She thought
about veering wildly into traffic, causing a wreck; or screeching to a halt
-- but they might get killed, and she didn't want to die.

He took one of her hands, put it on his bulging crotch. "See what you done
to me? I been patient, letting it build up...but I never been this hot for
any babe."

She said softly, "Okay. Where do we stop, a motel?"

He leaned close, nibbled her earlobe, said huskily, "The first Holiday Inn."

          *  *  *  *  *  *

It was a typical Holiday Inn room -- the big double bed looking like a
torture chamber to Kim as she surveyed the cheap motel room, standing just
inside the door.

Manuel was at her side, urging, "Come on, let's see what that bed is like!"

He went around her, grabbed her hand, pulling her reluctantly into the room,
toward the bed, his voice a groan, "Man, I been waitin for this too long! I
wanta bust that cherry!"

Kim followed, allowing him to lead the way, thinking it was inevitable, that
there was no way out of this now unless...

He slammed the door behind them, flicked on a lamp and began undressing,
unbuttoning his shirt. He stopped suddenly, looked at her standing still,
and went over, asked, "Hey, you gonna get naked, or what?"

She didn't respond.

He edged up very close, began softly running his fingers through her long
hair. "You a doll, you know it?"

His hand caressed her face, one finger moving over her full pouty lips, then
his body pressing against hers, the bulge provocatively stabbing into her
mid-section, his breathing coming faster now. "Ummm, you smell good, babe,
real good."

Manuel waltzed her closer to the bed, began unbuttoning her blouse, ran his
hand inside, caressing her breasts, mumbling, "Shit, you got soft skin,
great boobs, real nice tits."

Kim felt her body naturally respond, but was repulsed; she resisted the
faint raw sexual magnetism of him, but didn't pull away.

He kept whispering seductively, "Babe, after this first time, I'm gonna turn
you onto life, yeah, and sex. It's the best, a damn trip, yeah..." and all
the while, pulling at her blouse, his hands roving inside, feeling,
touching, and then coming down to her pants, unzipping them, but stopping as
she jerked back from him.

He asked, "Shy, huh?"

She said nothing, just watched him, and then slowly wet her lips, murmuring,
"I want to see you first, please? All of you."

That was all it took; he moved back, began lowering the zipper on his pants,
proudly displaying his arousal, bragging, "All of it for you, babe, all of
this."

She moved toward him, feigning desire, saying, "You want me that bad?"

"Uh huh." His black-brown eyes were glazed with lust, and when she got
closer, he thrust up against her body, moaning, "God, I want you something
awful, Kim."

Then he backed away, jerked off his pants, flung them down, a thud sounding
as the small .22 pistol in the pants pocket hit the floor. Suddenly he was
pressing his naked body against her, struggling to remove her blouse,
finding her bare breasts, kissing hungrily...

He demanded, "Take off those damn pants, I can't wait no longer!"

"Me either," she said, and put a hand to her waist, began lowering her
pants, moving down on him.

He closed his eyes, dazed with passion.

And she took the single-edged razor quickly from her pocket, swiftly stood,
and with one flash of the lethal blade slit his throat, a slash down the
length of his jugular vein, then doubling back across the hollow of his
throat.

His eyes flew open, his mouth twisted into a gruesome grimace, and he tried
to scream...but only a gurgling sound filled the room as he began drowning
in his own blood, eyes wild, head falling limply forward.

Kim stood there, watching dispassionately as he fell to the floor, dying.
She'd never seen anyone die, and it was horrible...but she couldn't turn
away. Not only had he humiliated her mother, but he'd under-estimated her --
and maybe all women.

She was not helpless, no. The past days of tension and stress, being
confined and fearing for her life...it had made her realize she had to stand
up for herself. Not only with her parents, but to anyone who threatened to
destroy her life.

Manuel was gone, his eyes rolling up into his head, blood splattered over
his nakedness...and though it was a terrible thing she'd had to do, it had
been necessary.

Kim knew he'd been intent on ruining her, destroying her life -- and he'd
lost this battle because he'd succumbed to the lure of conquering her
sexually.

Her plan had worked -- it had been the only choice really, and she'd been
right to play along until she could win her freedom.

Yes, she'd been right -- dead right.


          THE END