Chapter 2

My ride dropped me in a small town of about 50,000 souls. Mission's file described it as follows:

Like most of the small towns in this somewhat unindustrialized state, the downtown is more or less all offices with no retail shops of any kind. Almost every retail stores of any degree of success has moved to the highway business zoned area north of town. There is some light industry east of town in an industrial park. Adjacent to the industrial park are a number of fast food restaurants.

On the southern edge of the town is the Southern Christian Academy and University. People with way too much money enrolled their children in the academy. A teenage child was often allowed to remain at the boarding school through college. The college also accepted student from other private secondary schools in the south. SCAU was kind of a big deal in the town. For it's size it spent way too much money in town. The kids for the most part were harmless over indulged teenagers. That said there is enough money at the SCAU to arrange a cover up for most any crime.

We think that someone is using the town, if not SCAU to relay drugs. Some kind of a facility to sort and cut the drugs, then send them on to their final destination. So we want you to infiltrate the local crime scene and find out. It's a piece of cake really, the file stated.

"Piece of cafe, who talks like that?" I asked out loud. When the voice answered I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Obviously whoever wrote that report," Liam said. Well the part of Liam that was present said it. Damn it was going to be hard to explain Liam to anyone else. Actually it seemed best not to even try.

"Since they dropped me at the Waffle House, I'm going to have one," I said. I had no idea what to expect from him.

"I wish I could join you. I do miss the whole ritualistic thing about food." the sorta man said.

"I'm sorry were you talking to me?" the waitress asked.

"No just talking to myself. Sometimes I'm the best company for me," I said with a huge smile. She took my order then left. "You know I think, if you are going to hang around I'm going to have to buy one of those fake blue tooth microphones. It will keep people from thinking I'm going mad."

"But maybe you are going mad," he said. "Next I expect you to be talking to God,"

"I tried that but he never answered," I whispered. "Oh great I'm being psychoanalyzed by the ghost of Christmas past." The waitress brought my plate of pancakes and the sugarless syrup I had requesting.

As she fill me coffee cup she asked, "Anything else hon?" I could tell she meant it professionally not as an invitation.

"Not unless you know a place I can stay for a few days till I get settled in?" I asked.

"There are two motels that rent weekly in town. I guess we have two because of the SCAU. If you plan to stay longer there are lots of houses downtown that have been converted to duplex and triplex buildings. The place to find those is in the community newspaper. That's about all that is in it these days, classified advertising," she said smiling at me.

I left her a two dollar tip for a seven dollar plate of pancakes and coffee. I went into the parking lot. I pushed the button on the key chain that had also been in the brown envelope given to me at Church Camp. The head lights on an older small Ford blinked and the horn beeped. "What a classy ride," I commented about the beat up old Ford.

"You expected a Mercedes, when you are trying not to draw attention to yourself?" the Ghost of Christmas past asked.

"When you put it that way I guess the Ford was the right choice, but did they have to get one with a dented door?" I asked.

"They probably put the dent there," he said. "They will also have put a tracking device in the car. So be careful where you go and what you say inside it."

"Hell, I wouldn't be surprised to find they had a recorder inside some of that fancy plastic surgery," I replied as much to myself as to Liam.

One inside the car I said, "Well let's go find the Bedbug Motel."

"I do hope the place doesn't have bedbugs. You need your sleep," Liam said.

"I should have looked in the trunk before we left the parking lot. I wonder what super terrific things they sent to use in the starting of my new life?" I asked.

"No idea Rose but remember who you are, so don't expect too much," he said.

"I know. I'm a runaway wife. One who just took off after an argument with her husband," I said.

"Not just any old argument, one that put him in the hospital and threatening to file charges. One of the reasons you left your job and ran away," the apparition said.

"I know the cover story as well as you do," I said. "I also know the idea is to get the club owner to offer me a job. I don't want to apply for one. It would be better that he thinks it is his idea."

"Exactly, so why are you settling in this town," Liam asked.

"What is this, some kind of test?" I asked.

"Sure why not," Liam asked.

"I grew up here the first ten years of my life, and I have fond memories. I'm actually just visiting. I probably won't stay more than a week, since everyone I remember has moved on. So do I pass?" I asked.

"If no one questions you closely," the mirage replied.

I did have gps in the beat up old Ford. I entered the coordinates for the motel, and the gps lead me right to it. It had once been a nice piece of property I am sure, but by the time I arrived there it was just seedy. The shrubs had been chopped on drastically. That was probably done to prevent there use by the guests, of the tenants as a hiding place. It was indeed that kind of place. Hookers, drug dealers, Thugs of various other low life types, and even a couple of welfare mothers, were in their natural habitat at the Wayfarer Motel.

"You got a room?" I asked the middle eastern looking women wearing a head piece. Great I thought, I might as well toss terrorist into mix with the rest of the bottom feeder mix.

"How long?" the woman asked in a accent which I couldn't place.

"One week at least," I said.

"Three hundred dollars," she replied. "In advance for the weekly rate. Otherwise $65 each night in advance."

"I'll take the weekly rate," I said handing her the cash. She gave me a key on a plastic keyring with the number 10 on it.

When I removed my boxes from the trunk of the Ford, I carried them all inside before I stopped to look the room over. The room wasn't a dump. I could tell it was not worth even the small amount they were charging.

There was a bathroom with a shower stall and toilet. The sink was outside the bathroom door in a closet kind of thing that doubled as a small food preparation area. There was a hot plate, tiny microwave, and dorm sized refrigerator shoe horned onto or above the vanity. It at least had a double bed and a dresser to hold my clothes.

"So what you think?" Liam asked.

"I think I have never stayed in a more depressing place," I said.

"Not even prison?" he asked.

"Okay prison was more depressing, but only because I didn't expect to be leaving it any time soon," I agreed.

I began to unpack the boxes of clothes. "Geeze, I wonder what thrift shop these came from? Hookers are us?" I asked out loud since I knew the mirage was always listening.

"I'm sure there are some jeans and things in there somewhere. They aren't all fuck me clothes," he said.

"God I hope you are right. I would like to go get a burger without being attacked by the man behind the counter," I said with a laugh. "I bet you twenty bucks that if I went for a walk in that shit, cars would be pulling over asking me how much."

"That is the point isn't it. You want to get a job as a stripper, so you can get into the office to clone the computer," Liam said.

"Yes that is the first assignment. If I survive it, things can only get worse," I said as a guess. I spent the afternoon driving around town. I tried to familiarize myself with the landmarks.

I had dinner, then watched TV in the motel room until 9pm. At nine I drove to La Belle out on the highway. La Belle was a strip club. I guess they called it an exotic dance club but it was still a place where women took their clothes off and danced with a pole.

I wore a loose fitting gold metallic blouse and very short hot pants. I also wore five inch fuck me sling back pumps on my feet. All in all I looked the part of a stripper/hooker. The large black man on the door passed me through easily. He hassled some college boys who tried to enter after me.@@

I could see there was a runway down the middle of the club with three poles on it. There was only one girl dancing at the time, but it was still early. She wasn't nearly as attractive as me. She looked older, but it might have been her bad skin cause by the drug abuse. I could recognize a junkie even at the distance from the bar where I sat to the runway.

"Hi there can I buy you a drink?" a man in a workman's uniform asked.

"Of course as long as you know a drink just buys conversation," I said.

"Of course," he answered. "So what's your name?"

"Lucy," I said. I had decided to give my cover name on the spur of the moment. I still didn't think I needed to waste my cover story on him.

"Are you from around here?" he asked.

"Nope I'm for Selma Alabama," I said slipping into the cover story. Just then a mean looking South American type came to stand beside me.

"We need to talk," he said to me. "The only working girls I allow in here work for me."

"I see," I replied. "I suppose you manage this place."

"I do," he admitted. He didn't mention that he was also the owner.

"I'm not a working girl. I just stopped in for a drink," I suggested.

"Oh course you did. If you want to work the room I get 40 percent," he said. "Otherwise you get a beat down."

"Well, I'm new to this," I said. "I assume that a beat down is not a good thing."

"Yeah, you really are new to it," he said.

"Honest I am. I was married till about a month ago. My husband left me with two kids to support. I had to quit my job in a ladies dress shop I didn't make enough money. I decided to try this as a last resort. I really want to dance not be a prostitute," I explained.

"If you want to be a dancer get up there on the runway and take off your clothes and dance naked for me," he said smiling.

"Do I get to keep the tips?" I asked.

"Sure you get to keep off that money," he agreed.

"Can I go in the bathroom and get ready? You know take off my bra and stuff?" I asked

"Sure," he said "Go for it."

I went into the bathroom and stripped. When I redressed it was in the gold top and my panties. I went back outside and climbed the three steps up to the runway. I did the most suggestive dance I could imagine. I danced with a lot of bumps and grinds and suggestive moves. After a few minutes of that I removed my top and the new breasts were a big hit with the crowd. Unlike the other girl I rubbed my nipples as I danced. I also massaged my breasts tissue.

I danced in just my panties for a long time until the manager signaled me down. When I started to leave the men began stuffing money in my panties. I carried my top with me into his office. His office was small nothing more than a desk and a telephone. There was only one visitor chair and it was at the edge of the desk.

"You dance pretty good for a amateur. So why did your husband leave you?" he asked.

"Something about another man," I suggested with a smile.

"In other words you are a slut?" he asked.

"I would never admit to that," I said seriously.

"You will if you want to work for me," he said showing a mean streak.

"Alright I guess I am to some people," I said hedging.

"No Lucy, say it," he demanded.

"I'm a slut," I said looking down at the top of his desk.

"Now prove it," he said. He unzipped his pants and worked a very ordinary looking penis from his trousers. I move toward him to kiss him. "Hell no, I ain't kissing you whore. Get on your knees."

I immediately dropped to my knees as Lovie had taught me. I licked and kissed his penis until it became hard. Then I sucked it into my mouth.

"Tighter," he said. "Make your mouth tighter and wet make it wet for me." I did all I could to follow his orders. "Now take it deep."

I pulled off his penis and said, "I can't do that it chokes me."

"You will get used to it," he said as he help my head and forced his penis into my throat. I couldn't help it I choked on my saliva as his penis drove it into my throat. He forced his penis in my throat several times until he got really stiff on the last stroke. He held his penis in my throat until I was about to pass out. I was desperately fighting for air.

"Yeah that's right slut work your throat on me," he said while shot thick wads of cum into my throat making it even harder to stay in control. The black just washed over me. My body was jerking and my mind was blank. I was fighting the blackness when he removed his penis and I could gasp for air.