John Locke - Lethal Experiment

After an hour of drinking, the main room was crowded, the band was rocking, the dance floor working, and the boys were getting so rowdy they almost missed Beauty (Callie) and the Beast, the tough-looking older guy (me, in disguise) working their way through the crowd to occupy the last vacant seats at the bar.

Bickham worked his way through the maze of good ol’ boys sucking in their beer guts and jockeying their seats to get a better look at Callie. When he found a spot where he could check her out, he couldn’t believe his eyes. There at the bar, their bar, sat the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

Bickham couldn’t stop blinking as he checked out the whole package, top to bottom, slowly. Then back up. Thinking hot! Blond! Flawless ! And sporting what had to be the most amazing tattoo he’d ever seen on a woman—it covered most of her right arm and, from a distance, looked almost like a sleeve.

Bickham looked over his shoulder, saw Charlie checking her out, salivating. Robbie and George were back at the table highfiving and punching each other’s arms. Bickham must have felt vindicated. They always came hoping for gorgeous, so why could they not, just once in their lives, hit the jackpot?

And speaking of jackpots, Callie had just slapped my face. When I pretended to protest, the bartender, Teddy Boy, pulled out a baseball bat and pretended to send me packing. I made my way to the rental car and watched the action on my video monitor.

Bickham made eye contact with Charlie, who signaled the others. Game on!

The boys had every reason to believe it was a good plan. The way it works, Bickham checks out the girl, finds out what she’s drinking, and orders himself one. He drinks most of it, then pours the drug into the remainder. Bickham walks up to the girl, tries to pick her up. Of course, even ugly girls don’t like Bickham, so she’s thrilled when the handsome Charlie shows up from the opposite direction to protect her from the local loser.

While Charlie engages her in smooth conversation, Bickham pours the rest of his drink into hers. If anyone notices, it just looks like he’s sharing his drink before ordering another. Though no one ever notices, Bickham knows it’s these small details that make a plan come together.

When the girl becomes groggy, Bickham circulates loudly through the bar, diverting attention from her while Charlie escorts her out the door.

Later, no one will remember seeing Charlie and the girl leave.

The other two, George and Robbie, run interference on Teddy Boy, the bartender, and stand ready to take over in case the girl doesn’t want to leave with Charlie. In that situation, George will stand up to Charlie, t

Once they get her in the van, George and Robbie stand guard. Bickham does her first because it’s his plan and he supplies the drug. Charlie goes second, because he’s the one who does the hard work. George and Robbie work out who gets third and fourth spot. After that, the boys rotate turns doing her until their stamina runs out. If the bar starts closing down before they’re done, they drive her out to the woods and hit it all night.

So the plan was foolproof and the boys are local, so there are plenty of witnesses to cover for them if a complaint surfaces later on. Plus, Charlie’s dad is the top lawyer in the county, in the pocket of every judge, and no father dared face him in court, fearing for his daughter’s reputation.

Bickham patted his pocket, making sure the drug was there.

GHB, gamma hydroxybutyric acid, is one of three so-called date rape drugs. Legal with a prescription, GHB is used to treat narcolepsy. Although widely available as a powder or pill, those forms can leave residue and give off a salty taste. The liquid form is Bickham’s delivery system of choice. It’s odorless, colorless and mixes in alcohol, which intensifies the effect dramatically.

Bickham’s cousin Ned, a local pharmacist, makes the drug in his store after hours. Ned has a high-maintenance trophy wife—a fine looking young thing named Anita, whose expensive tastes would normally be hard to support on a small town druggist’s income. But cousin Bickham has lots of money, so theirs is a partnership made in heaven.

Bickham has a large stash of GHB in his closet, a good thing since Ned went missing a couple of days ago. Bickham probably wondered if Ned was in some sort of trouble with drug dealers or the law, and this thought surely prompted daydreams about making it with his cousin’s wife. According to Ned, Bickham still loved conjuring the visual of Ned testing the GHB on Anita before selling it to Bickham the first time.

On their “dates,” when Bickham and Charlie feel the party needs to be moved to the woods due to drunks in the parking lot or because the bar is closing down, George and Robbie take a second car, since they’re younger and can’t stay out past two a.m.

The younger pair are unaware Bickham and Charlie had to kill and bury one of their “dates” a few months ago. The killers aren’t worried about Erica’s body turning up. They’ve hunted these woods their whole lives and know the high ground that will never be explored.

Usually, the girls were fat or worse. Tonight, if they could pull it off , they’d hit the Pussy Power Ball!

Okay, so the game was on.

Teddy Boy had just poured Callie a second drink. George and Robbie sprang into action and called Teddy Boy over to the other end of the bar to talk about liquor and sports.

Bickham took that opportunity to slide into the empty seat I had vacated. “Hey there, pretty lady,” he said.

Callie rolled her eyes.

“This can be a pretty rough place,” he continued. “I’d be glad to watch your back if you want, keep the flies away while you enjoy a drink or two.”

“Oh goody!” she said, “my knight in shining armor.”

Typical bitch response , he probably thought. According to Ned, Bickham seemed to elicit this attitude from all women, even what he called the OFU’s (old, fat and ugly ones).

He tried again: “Drinking alone, I see…”

“Usually I drink to make men more interesting. In your case…” Callie waved her hand in a dismissive manner, as if she were casually swatting air currents at a fly. She looked at the array of whisky bottles on the bar shelf and continued, “I don’t think there’s enough alcohol.”

She drained half her glass and set it back on the bar.

Bickham moved his hand close to her drink as Charlie approached her from the other side.

“Hey Bickham,” he said, “and hello, gorgeous! I’m Charlie, what’s your name?” As she turned to face him, Bickham poured the liquid into her drink, no doubt thinking, See what I mean ? Foolproof ! Callie and Charlie spoke a minute, which gave me time to check the detonator. Then he held his drink up as if to make a toast.

Callie smiled, reached for her drink, clinked his glass and paused a moment, watching Charlie drink. She waited there, glass poised in mid-air, as if trying to decide if she really needs this last one. She shrugged. Why not? As she moved the drink toward her perfect mouth, a small explosion rocked the back of the building.

“Shit!” Charlie screamed. “The hell was that?”

He and Bickham hit the floor. As most of the patrons ran toward the back to check out the explosion, Charlie stood up, embarrassed to see that Callie had not left her stool. She shrugged again, chugged her drink, and set it on the counter.

Over the next few minutes, confusion reigned as half the local boys ran to their trucks to retrieve squirrel guns, baseball bats and crowbars. The police were called and Teddy Boy did what he could to restore order.

Charlie regrouped, raised his eyebrows at Bickham, who knew an opportunity when he saw one.