Sheriff Porter
Copyright© 2013 by carniegirl
Chapter 67
"So John, not doe, I assume you are not a resident," I said.
"Why do you assume that," he asked.
"You are dressed like a man in a resort hotel for business. You most likely had dinner with associates after the meeting. You haven't been back to your room after dinner is my guess. I read in the lobby the state association of million dollar Realtor's are meeting in the green room or some such nonsense."
"Very good, actually that's first rate," he said.
"I would also guess that million dollar Realtors is a misnomer. How many millions do you have to sell to get invited to this meeting," I asked.
"A hundred million," he said. "Not really all that exclusive these days. They will probably raise it to two hundred in a couple of years. Have to keep the riff raff out you know," he said mocking himself. I liked that about him.
"So how many million did you sell," I asked.
"Very good keep them talking about themselves very endearing," he said.
"Is that a good sales tactic?" I asked.
"Yes, it is one we teach new salespeople. Get them talking about themselves, learn all you can, then use it in your presentation," he suggested. "Three hundred million."
"That's a lot where you come from, I assume," I suggested.
"Not really we sold a few parcels out near the airport in Metropolis. Those can go well upward of a million just for the land," he said.
"So do you live in Metropolis, or just sell real estate there?" I asked.
"I live in a suburb," he said. "And yes there is a Mrs. NotDoe."
"Yes that was my next question," I said.
"Ordinarily my next question would be how much," he said. "But I think you might be offended, since you are obviously not a hooker."
"If I were, I would invest in a boob job and a wig," I said.
"Yes, I do believe that would be a wise investment for one in that line of work. So what is your line of work." he said.
I handed him one of Wilson's prototype cards. I said, "Not working for your wife." The card read Porter & Wilson confidential investigations and recovery.
"So do you recover cars and boats," he asked smiling.
"No we recover people and find out who did what to who," I said.
"That explains a lot," he said.
"Yep, so if you have a guilty conscience, you might want to go back to the bar," I said smiling.
"No my conscience is clear so far. I would like to buy you a drink, if you promise not to tell my wife." he said.
"I never drink and tell. I would prefer coffee," I said.
"Here or in my room?" he asked.
"Here first," I said. John not doe was smooth he wouldn't need drugs to get a woman in bed. She might scream rape, but not likely. He seemed pretty upfront about what he was selling.
After two coffees in the lounge I agreed to a drink in his room. He looked a little to prissy to be much of a physical threat, if push came to a right hook, I though.
When we got to the room, before he fixed the drink, he kissed me. It was a nice white bread kiss. It was warm and promising, but no tongue. John Not Doe was a really nice guy from all indications. I wondered what his button was. The one when punched brought out Mr. Hyde. They say we all have one, and some unlucky person might stumble on it. That person my get that right hook, or he or she might just lose their job or get undermined for a promotion because of it. Either way his evil side would show. It was usually easier to show the Hyde side to a stranger. One you would most likely never see again. Yes I was working my way inside the mind of my serial rapist. I shook my head to clear my mind.
"So John the Realtor, do you plan to do that again?" I asked meaning the kiss. I asked it as I took the drink from him. The liquor was his date rape drug. It wasn't meant to disable me, just help him to convince me to comply. It was all a matter of degrees, I thought.
"Yes, I do plan to do it again," he said.
"You really don't need the liquor. I have already decided to go along." I suggested.
"I expect the liquor to make you more agreeable is all. The decision should have been made before you left home tonight." he informed me. He was right of course. All the others had as well. Not consciously, but if it was the right kind of man, and in the right kind of situation, we would all be willing. In his own mind, my rapist was doing nothing more than making sure she was compliant. What was the harm, since she was willing. He just helped her to chose him.
"So," John the Realtor said, "What do you like to do?"
"I really like not to be asked stupid questions," I said. That was not me answering. It was a women in denial of why she was in the room. It was what a confused woman would say, when the guy wasn't nearly as slick as he thought he was, or as she hoped her would be.
"Sorry, I want to make sure it will be a good experience for you," he said.
"John, you really are a nice guy and I really should be going. I have no idea what go into me," I said. Well that should make him feel rejected. I hadn't planned to, but I was being a little cruel. "I think I should go."
"Well that's up to you," he said. He stepped back disappointed but he allowed me to leave.
On the ride down in the elevator I wondered if the rapist even went through these gyrations. Did he know in advance he wasn't in her league, so he just slipped her the Ruffie and waited. If she were alone, when it started to take effect she would be willing to allow him to help her room. She might even be willing to invite him in. Though by that time her compliance wouldn't be necessary. She would be disoriented and just going along with no real will of her own. Still conscious and able to function but with no will to resist anything. Not even that which she felt t be abhorrent an hour before the Ruffie.
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