STYLIST: A Psycho-Sexual Thriller Read online

  Rick

  “What? What on earth happened?”

  “Linda’s ex came over. He was pounding on the door. She told me she didn’t want to talk to him. I told him to leave and he kept pounding.”

  “Oh, my goodness.”

  “So, I opened the door and he tried to push his way in. I put my hand on his chest to stop him and he took a swing at me.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, what happened that you got arrested?”

  “I knocked him out cold. On the porch. One punch.”

  “Did the police come?”

  “Not right then. He got himself up and left. He came back later with the cops and they arrested me for Second Degree Assault.”

  “But he tried to get into your house. Right?”

  “I told em that. Didn’t matter. He was the one with the broken nose and I didn’t have a mark on me.”

  “Did they handcuff you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, no. Oh, my goodness. Rick. How long were you in jail?”

  “Overnight. They booked me. Took my prints. Photographed me and all that. They took me to the county jail. I had court the next day. The judge gave me a PR bond.”

  “Do you have to go back to court?”

  “Yes. In sixty days.”

  “Are you gonna hire a lawyer?”

  “I guess I better hire one. I could get four years in prison. It’s a felony. ‘Cause I broke his nose.”

  “Oh, no. How awful. What did Linda say?”

  “Oh, you know. She was really upset. Said she was sorry. I believe her.”

  “So, is she going to find another place to live?”

  “She talked about it. I said, no. I don’t want her to move now. I don’t think she’s safe with this guy around. She’s better off in my house.”

  “Really? But are you better off? I thought you wanted her to move out.”

  “Not any more. She finally told me he’d been hitting her for a couple a years. If I’d known that I’d have knocked him out a long time ago.”

  “That’s probably why she didn’t tell you, Rick. Think?”

  “Probably. No, she’s much better off with me for right now. Even with all the noise from the kids. I’d rather put up with that than be worried about her safety.”

  “I’m so sorry this happened.”

  “Thanks, Sonia. That’s very kind of you.”

  “There. Flat as the flight deck on an aircraft carrier.”

  “That’s the way we like it.”

  14

  Jeff

  “She broke it off.”

  “Oh, no. Why?”

  “I really don’t know. She told me she needs more time with her boys.”

  “Did you believe her?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s possible.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that. You want a little gel on this?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “How’s the length in the back now?”

  “We’re just about there.”

  “Well, I know it’s tough for you. It can get really stressful for a fulltime workin’ mom with three kids to keep it all balanced. Add a relationship and she just may have wanted to slow down a little. You never know. She may change her mind and figure out a way to make it work. This could be temporary.”

  “I’ve thought of that. I’m trying to give her the time she needs. I’m not in a big hurry to run out and find someone else. I know it’s hard for her with the boys and a job. It’s too much.”

  “That’s why I never had kids. I saw what my sisters went through.”

  “Don’t you wonder who’s going to look after you when you get old?”

  “Well, I try not to think about that. I’m still young.”

  “I know. I know. You’re forty-two. So, tell me, how are you and that kid doing?”

  “What? My boyfriend?”

  “Yes. How’s all that going now?”

  “Oh, he’s still there.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “Fort Collins, somewhere.”

  “You don’t know where he lives?”

  “No. I’ve never been to his place. But I have his phone number. He always comes to my apartment. He likes the pool. It’s easier that way. I hate driving in Fort Collins.”

  “Hmm. Aren’t you curious to see his place?”

  “Oh, it’s probably another bachelor crash pad. Why would I want to see that?”

  “I don’t know. I thought you might be curious.”

  “No. I’m not curious. Everything happens at my place. Why go see a messy bachelor crash pad that’s not even decorated?”

  “How do you know it’s not decorated.”

  “Were you ever a young bachelor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you spend a lot of time decorating and hanging pictures?”

  “No.”

  “Did you have dirty laundry all over the floors?”

  “Yes. Unless I had company over.”

  “Did you always make your bed?”

  “No.”

  “I rest my case.”

  “Okay, Sonia. I get it.”

  “Good. There. We’re all finished. You’re a brand new man.”

  “Without a woman.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. Yolanda may come back sooner than you think.”

  “Ha. We’ll see. Thanks.”

  “See you next time.”

  15

  Tammy

  “So, how’s our cop? I missed you there for a week or so. You didn’t call me for you regular appointment. What happened?”

  “I was on vacation.”

  “Really. Where’d you go? Let me guess. You and Tina went somewhere exotic together. Right?”

  “Wrong. I went back to Ann Arbor to visit my family.”

  “Is that in Michigan?”

  “Excellent, Sonia. You know your geography.”

  “Did you have a nice time?”

  “It was alright. You know how family visits are. They’re okay for about three days. After that people start getting on each others’ nerves.”

  “I guess. Yeah. Three days is plenty. How long were you there?”

  “Ten days.”

  “Oh, my God. Wow. That’s a long time to spend with your family. Did you all do anything fun?”

  “Nothing special. We just hung around, did a few picnics. Went to church. One day we took a boat ride on the lake. Things like that. It wasn’t anything spectacular. But it was nice to see everyone. I have a lot of nieces and nephews.”

  “Sounds like a good time.”

  “Oh, it was okay. Lots of barbeques. I ate way too much.”

  “Is your mother a good cook?”

  “Oh, yeah. Aren’t all mothers good cooks?”

  “Mine wasn’t.”

  “She wasn’t? Sorry to hear that.”

  “Did you get any more tattoos?”

  “No.”

  “You want to re-do your stripe here?”

  “Yeah. I think so. Tina liked it.”

  “Same color?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Auburn is nice. Subtle. Okay. I’ll get that going.”

  16

  Sonia and Terryfield

  Miles Terryfield’s phone beeped. It was nearly five o’clock on a Friday afternoon. He was tired. He was hungry. He wanted to get to the Texas Road House for a cold beer and a rib-eye steak, medium rare.

  What’s this? On Friday at five o’clock?

  “Detective Terryfield.”

  “Detective Terryfield, it’s Sonia Lovello. Remember me? You had me in for an interview on the Emma Saunders case. About two months ago.”

  “Yes, Sonia. How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “So, what can I do for you?”

  “I need to talk with you about the case.”

  “Can this wait ‘til Monday?”

  “I don’t know. I really wanted to talk with you today. I’
m sorry to call you so late on a Friday, but I just finished with my last client.”

  “I was just about to leave and go out to dinner.”

  “Where are you going? I could meet you there.”

  A little pushy?

  “Are you sure you need to talk today? It can’t wait?”

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  “You know where the Texas Roadhouse is?”

  “Yes. On the frontage road off highway eighteen.”

  “What time can you get there?”

  “I’m leaving now.”

  “Okay if we go Dutch?”

  “That’s what I figured. You’re not asking me out on a date, are you? And I’m not asking you out on a date. Right?”

  “Right. Okay. See you there.”

  He put the hand-piece back into the receiver.

  I wonder what she’s got on her mind. On a Friday evening.

  Thirty minutes later Sonia sat across a table from Miles Terryfield, in a very noisy, Country Western themed steak house. George Strait’s band blared All My Exes Live In Texas from overhead speakers. There were peanut shells scattered all over the concrete floor and food servers scurried back and forth, trying to keep up with the Friday afternoon crowd’s drink orders.

  Three tables over to their left someone had a birthday celebration going on. The Roadhouse crew had pulled a wooden sawhorse to them, with a big leather saddle affixed. They insisted that the birthday girl mount up and then yelled to the rest of the customers for a big “Yee-haw!” Most of the crowd in the place joined in and clapped. The birthday girl held the pommel with one hand, the other high up in the air like a real bronco rider. She squealed in glee as the strobe lights flashed and friends took photos to record the occasion.

  Terryfield and Sonia made some small talk as they ate dinner. It was almost as though they were on a first date. Almost. As a professional precautionary measure, he had let his dispatcher know he’d be out at the restaurant to contact a witness. Now the widowed single father sheriff’s detective and the childless divorced stylist incrementally sized each other up as they carefully traded their personal histories.

  He told her how difficult it had been to watch his wife die of breast cancer and the struggle he’d gone through to keep functioning as a father and a cop. He shared some of the highlights of his children’s lives during the years they were in high school and college. Sonia listened in rapt attention, genuinely interested in hearing about his life.

  She told Terryfield about her childhood and her first marriage, which had ended badly because of her ex-husband’s alcoholism.

  He intently watched her face and eyes as she talked, noticing that she was very attractive, very feminine in her mannerisms, and perfectly manicured. She listened to his choice of words, sensing the soothing effect his baritone voice had on her initial apprehension about meeting him while he was off duty.

  Sonia’s urgent need to talk with this cop about her thoughts outweighed any hesitation she may have felt after she had pressed him for the meeting. His voice and manner of speaking quickly put her completely at ease. This, she decided, was a man she could trust.

  They skipped dessert and ordered coffee. He decided it was time to ask the question.

  “So, tell me what was so important about the Saunders case that you called me at quitting time on a Friday afternoon.”

  She took a sip of her coffee and dabbed her napkin on her lips. Forearms on the table, he stared at her eyes, awaiting whatever it was she had to say. She looked across the table at him, hesitated for a moment – and began to tell him what had driven her to make that phone call.

  “Well, I hope you won’t think I’m being foolish, but I thought you should know about this. I had a conversation with Tammy Lenkovsky yesterday. She came in to have her hair cut. Remember when I told you she didn’t come in on her usual schedule when Emma disappeared?”

  “Yes. I remember.”

  “I asked her why she didn’t call me for her regular appointment. She told me she’d been on vacation. But she didn’t tell me she was going on vacation. Look, detective…”

  “You can call me Miles. Please.”

  “Thank you, Miles. Look. My clients tell me everything. I mean everything. They tell me about their children, their divorces, their marriages, their sex lives, their financial troubles, all of it. I could be earning a psychotherapist’s wages for what I listen to.”

  “Maybe you should be.”

  “It’s not just me. All stylists become personal confidantes. Being a stylist is like running a Dr. Phil show.”

  “Sounds like it. Sometimes being a cop is like that, too.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Well, go ahead with what you were telling me.”

  “Okay. So, Tammy Lenkovsky didn’t tell me that she was going to take a vacation. I asked her about why she didn’t come in on her regular haircut schedule and she tells me she went to Ann Arbor, Michigan for ten days – to visit her family.”

  “Go ahead. Tell me more.”

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  “Not exactly. I’m lost. Fill me in.”

  “Miles. Everyone tells me when they’re going on vacation. And they tell me where they’re going. And who they’re going with. And what they’re going to do. And usually how much money it’s going to cost. And where they’ll be staying. Everything.”

  “Well, okay, so I can see why Tammy not telling you anything beforehand might make you wonder why she’d do that. It’s pretty unusual, right? Stylists know everything about their clients. Is that what you’re saying?”

  Sonia was beginning to lose patience and it showed on her face. Her brown eyes flashed at him.

  “No, Miles. You’re not hearing what I’m telling you. You called me and asked me to come in for a recorded interview because you thought I’d know a lot about Emma and what was going on in her life. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Okay. Thank you. So Tammy didn’t say a word to me about leaving town to go to Michigan. What I’m telling you is that it’s not unusual for that to happen. It doesn’t happen. I’m her stylist. You wouldn’t believe what she’s told me about herself – and her girlfriend.”

  “Tina?”

  “Yes. Tina Olivares.”

  “Is she one of your clients, too?”

  “No. I’ve never met Tina. I don’t even know what she looks like. Tammy never showed me a picture. But then, I didn’t ask to see one. If I’d asked, I’ll bet she would have shown me a wallet full. Or I should say a cell phone full. But Tammy talks about her all the time. She tells me everything. Even about their sex life. Everything. In detail.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Do you understand now why I think it’s so odd that Tammy went on her vacation and never told me she was going?”

  “Okay. I guess so. I’ll keep all that in mind. You watch television?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course I watch television.”

  “You watch any of those Snapped reports on Oprah’s channel or Dateline or The First Forty-Eight and all that stuff? About murders?”

  “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, then, you know it’s usually the spouse or the ex-boyfriend or the spouse’s boyfriend that’s behind the killing. And that’s where I’m looking in the Saunders case. I think this is probably a pretty typical contract killing, engineered by the victim’s spouse. But that’s not for publication. Can you keep that between you and me?”

  “Yes. Thanks for trusting me, Miles. But I can see I’ve wasted both of our time talking about Tammy Lenkovsky. I thought I was being helpful. I can see you’re not interested in looking that way. But it was nice to have dinner with you.”

  And that was the end of that conversation.

  As he drove to his home, Terryfield thought about what Sonia had told him. While she was obviously a very intelligent, insightful woman, he believed that she was way off base with her theory about Tammy Lenkovsky.

  She
’s a cop.

  Sitting on her living room couch, unable to sleep, Sonia was feeling a little foolish.

  He patronized me and then slapped me down. It’s always the husband or the spouse or the ex-boyfriend. Ha. We’ll see.

  She decided to put Tammy Lenkovsky entirely out of her thoughts.

  Let’s see if he can solve it without me. He probably thinks I’m a silly little girl. Even so, he really is a nice man.

  An hour later she climbed into her bed and went to sleep. A dream about Tim Travisec awoke her at 3:30, in a state of extreme sexual desire. She went with the fantasy and pleasured herself. With the tension released, she drifted back into a dreamless slumber. The alarm clock roused her at six o’clock.

  17

  Sonia and Tim

  “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About our relationship.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not comfortable with the way things are going.”

  “In what way?”

  “I feel like you’re always controlling me.”

  “What? You mean in bed?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you don’t like that?”

  “Well, that’s not exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Well, what are you saying then?”

  “Sometimes it seems almost sadistic. The way you tease me and make me beg.”

  “And you don’t like that?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. I love the teasing, but sometimes you make me wait so long. It’s almost like you enjoy me begging you to let me come.”

  “I do enjoy that. A lot.”

  “I know that. Well, that’s what I mean. Sometimes I get scared. It seems like you enjoy the power you have over me. I feel so helpless.”

  “I know. You are helpless, aren’t you. And you love it.”

  “You’re not understanding what I’m telling you.”

  “What are you saying? You want to break this off? You don’t want to see me any more?”

  “No. God, no. I think that would kill me. Or I’m afraid it would. I can’t bear the thought of you with another woman.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Why? How can you say that? Why do you think why?”

  “You’re afraid she might find me more exciting than you do? Is that it?”