Scott Wittenburg - The May Day Murders

“Yes, please,” she replied, watching the rivulets of water rolling down Jerry’s shaved. muscular chest.

He winked at her and stepped out. Ann heard the clinking of glasses as he poured some more wine.

“Here,” he said, handing her glass to her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip.

Jerry suddenly placed his hands on her shoulders and faced her. “Are you having a good time?”

She gazed into his smoldering green eyes, which were staring at her imploringly from his handsomely chiseled face.

“Very nice,” she replied.

He leaned down and pecked her on the cheek. “I’m very happy to hear that.”

For a fleeting moment Ann thought that he was going to embrace and kiss her again and she almost wished he had. But instead, he removed his hands, smiled and eased himself down into the tub. She looked on as he fully submerged himself underwater for a moment, stood up and ran his hands through his thick blonde hair and sat down beside her. Leaning back, he closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again, staring pensively at the ceiling. Ann could sense that he wanted to tell her something but hadn’t yet gotten the nerve up to follow through with it. She didn’t know why she had this feeling-maybe it was because of the way he had looked at her a moment ago. He had seemed nervous, tentative, as though he wanted to pour out his heart but had decided that the moment wasn’t yet quite right.

The dread she had felt earlier during their stroll of the grounds now returned and she reminded herself not to do anything that might encourage him. Otherwise, she would find herself in an embarrassing and awkward position. She didn’t love Jerry Rankin and never would, in spite of her impulsive urge to be held in his arms a moment ago. This was a physical thing, she told herself, not an emotional one. Jerry wanted more than that-she was almost certain of it now.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, tuning in on the low hum of the motor and gushing jets of water pulsating against her body. Perhaps, she thought, she was making a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe Jerry wasn’t quite as head over heels as she thought he was. Maybe she was reading more into this than there actually was. Whatever the case, she decided it would be best to tell Jerry it was time to head back soon; she needed some time to think all of this through.

She suddenly felt his hands on her shoulders, jerking her from her thoughts. She opened her eyes and saw Jerry standing over her, his expression intense, almost frightening. His eyes were fixed on hers.

“You startled me,” she said nervously.

Jerry smiled, but not in a friendly manner. His lips were twisted in a sort of uncomfortable smirk, conveying a forced self-confidence. His grip on her was a little too firm.

“Let’s do it, Ann,” he declared.

“Do what?” she replied suspiciously.

“Get naked.”

His voice seemed different somehow. Not quite as articulate and with a slight hillbilly twang.

“No, Jerry! What’s wrong with you?” Ann sputtered, her heart racing in her chest.

The intensity in his face waned somewhat. He blinked a couple of times as if to force himself to maintain his composure.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Ann. I just want to make love to you.”

Ann felt his grip on her tighten as he spoke. “You’re hurting me, Jerry!”

She grasped his arms and tried to push him away. He didn’t budge.

“ Let go of me!” Ann cried.

“I can’t, Ann. Not now.”

Ann was almost as angry as she was terrified.

“Jerry, I don’t know what your problem is but I want you to let go of me and take me home now! Do you hear me?”

He bent down and tried to kiss her. Ann pulled away.

“No!”

“Please, Ann,” Jerry pleaded. “Don’t turn me down-I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Ann gaped at him in utter shock. “Are you threatening me, Jerry?”

His eyes were now as cold as steel. “Let’s just say that I’m giving you an alternative. We either do it by the book or we do it another way…”

Ann struggled to free herself but was powerless against Jerry’s strength. The room suddenly seemed to be closing in on her as the cold hard fact sunk in that Jerry Rankin was going to rape her, right there and now. It was like a nightmare but too real to be a nightmare. How in God’s name was this happening?

Jerry wrapped his sinewy arms around her and started unfastening her bikini top. His face wore a cool, calculating reserve as he spoke.

“Don’t fight it, Ann. You will enjoy this.”

Ann squirmed and managed to slip thorough his arms. Her head went underwater and in seconds she surfaced on the other side of the hot tub. In a flash, Rankin waded over in two strides and grabbed her by the ankle as she attempted to climb out.

“Please, Ann! Don’t try anything like that again. Do you understand?” he snapped, his face taut with rage.

Before Ann could respond, he said, “I don’t understand you women. I’m especially disappointed in you, Ann. Why are you fighting it? Take a look at me, Ann. Take a good look! I’m not some ugly asshole with shit for brains, now am I? I’m a hunk, for chrissakes! And a hunk with brains, no less! We are supposed to be fucking right now and you’re going to fucking enjoy it! And afterwards, you’re going to gaze lovingly into my eyes and tell me that you want to spend the rest of your life with me because I’m everything that you’ve ever dreamed of. The book, Ann! You’re not following the goddamn script! Get with the program-we’ve made it this far-don’t fucking let me down now!”

Ann was utterly speechless. Her head was spinning wildly. She couldn’t feel anything for a moment-she was absolutely numb and thunderstruck at the same time.

“What are you talking about, Jerry?” she finally managed to say.

He let out a laugh-a sinister guffaw. “That stupid fucking romance novel you’ve been reading for the past three weeks! A Second Chance for Madeline. I planted it in your house. I knew that you’d read it of course-my only concern was whether or not you would question where it came from and how it got there. A calculated risk, you might say. But my hunch was right. You assumed that it was Amy’s book and you never even asked her about it. Another good hunch on my part. You can’t even communicate with your own daughter because you’re afraid of upsetting the spoiled brat! You’re just as stupid and naive as every other wench in this world, Ann. Had me fooled, I can sure tell you that! And to think of all I’ve done for you, just to win your heart and jump your bones. Jesus, what does it take for a guy to get laid in this life?”

Ann’s heart was palpitating as she stood there facing him, her wrists being nearly crushed by his vise-like grip. Her body trembled in the chilly air of the solarium as she attempted to rationalize what Jerry Rankin was saying.

He had planted that book. She had assumed that it was Amy’s book. She had read the book and related so well with the character in the story and had been amazed at how similar the story line followed her relationship with Jerry Rankin…

He had planted that book, knowing somehow that she would read it… Then he had proceeded to play her like a fiddle-right into his trap!

But why? Just so he could rape her? But he hadn’t wanted to rape her at first. He had wanted to simply make love to her-to have her willingly and consensually make love to him. ‘By the book,’ as he’d put it.

Or, the alternative…

In fact, he had wanted everything to be “by the book.” and it had been just that, so far.

Until now.

Jesus! she thought in horror as it suddenly sunk in: Jerry Rankin had set her up from the very beginning! The ‘chance meeting’ at the supermarket hadn’t been a chance meeting at all. Instead, it had been carefully planned out and meticulously executed…