3 The Hard Way by Gary Phillips

Author:Gary Phillips [Phillips, Gary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Google: -BlnDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Down & Out Books
Published: 2016-02-07T11:00:00+00:00

At four past two the following afternoon, Clara Goodeacre was putting on her sheer panties in the woman’s dressing room of a Shape and Tone. She made something of a production of wiggling her packed derriere in as she snuggled them on, touching her butt and checking herself in the mirror as well. She was sure the muscular redhead with the heavy glasses was checking her out. Her name was Keva Fitzgerald and she was the one who poisoned Drake Bellows.

Fitzgerald was into bodybuilding and conspiracies. She too had a site she maintained about hidden agendas but hers was more of an aggregator and not so much original material like Bellows’ site. From the records Critch Duling had accessed, complete with her picture given the fitness chain took one of each member, they’d determined she frequented this Shape and Tone three to four times a week. Then a scan of her credit card purchases, revealing specific after hours venues she frequented, determined her same sex preferences. Both the women were now in a three-story facility in downtown L.A. not far from the Staples Center.

Clad only in her panties, Goodeacre walked over to Fitzgerald who was getting out of her workout clothes for a shower. Goodeacre smiled broadly at the other woman.

Hands on her hips, Goodeacre said, “Hey, I’m new but I’m told you regularly pump iron here.” She cocked her head slightly to one side.

“Sure do. You looking to start a regime?”

“I was definitely considering it. Maybe I could buy you a juice or coffee and we could talk about it?”

Fitzgerald, who was sitting on a bench, lifted her gaze from Goodeacre’s crotch to her caramel-colored eyes. “I know a place not far from here. I’m Keva.” She put out her hand.

Goodeacre shook her hand. “I’m Clara.”

After Fitzgerald had her shower and was dressed, she came out to the lobby area to find Goodeacre leafing through an issue of Time magazine. She had on a short skirt sitting in a chair waiting for her.

“Shall we?” Fitzgerald indicated the exit. They’d made a date to walk a few blocks over to a coffee and juice bar.

“For sure,” the other woman said and the two departed. As they headed toward the elevator, the side of Fitzgerald’s hand brushed against the side of Goodeacre’s rear. They made small talk about working out but once in the elevator, which contained just the two of them, Fitzgerald put an arm around Goodeacre’s waist.

“Glad I met you,” she said.

“Me too.”

Simultaneously they both dropped their gym bags and began kissing and tonguing, Fitzgerald rubbing her hand on the other woman’s rear end as she grinded against her. Overhead a panel in the top of the elevator car opened. The car shuddered to a stop but the doors didn’t open. It then started to head upward.

Goodeacre opened an eye and quickly pushed Fitzgerald away. “Watch out,” she warned.

Dropping into the car was a wiry, medium-sized man in dark gray modified shinobi shozoku attire worn by ninjas. His head was covered in the same material with a chrome ghost demon mask of Japanese myth covering his face.

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