Chapter 126

word count  1239

"Well, hop in! Let's go for a ride!" Joe Tobin opened the Civic's door and ushered Trudy on board. He climbed in the driver's side. The car was still running, so there was no need for Trudy to see him doing any tricks with the wires under the dash. They still dangled though, and he worried she might notice. When he got in, he shoved them quickly to get them out of sight.

Trudy was so busy admiring her escort, she didn't notice anything else. It took all of her control not to get worked up. Every time a new man gave her attention, the old patterns could be expected to emerge despite her new rules of behavior. She could see that now. She wanted to throw herself at him, give herself to him, let him make her feel special if only for a few hours.

"Why don't we just take a ride in the country, doll'?" Tobin asked.

"Sounds nice!" Trudy replied, even though her newfound conscience nagged--why would you go out to the middle of nowhere with a stranger? She admitted to herself the abandon of it all made her heart beat faster. Her nether regions tingled and she felt warm all over. Frankly, she couldn't resist. She promised herself she'd behave on the excursion no matter how much she wanted otherwise.

"So are ya from around here?" she asked trying to make mundane conversation. It did little to calm her down, however.

"Nah, just passing through. I'm a salesman."

"Oh, a travelin' salesman!" she joked, next remembering the implications of that particular situation. She felt tense, fighting a tug of war between her baser instincts and her newfound morality. Glancing at her knees, she saw her black lace dress had shimmied up revealing most of her legs, and her scanty panties were close to being exposed. Pushing and shifting, she tugged the dress to pull it down.

"No need to do that on my account, darlin'! I love the view!"

The old Trudy would have considered the remark an invitation. The new Trudy fought every bad instinct that was bugging her. She ignored him and looked straight ahead.

By now, they'd left the city and streamed along rural roads. Barns came into view with occasional houses, farm houses mostly.

She looked his way and marveled at his profile. A firm forehead, a longer but not displeasing nose, and a strong, chiseled chin, all working together to produce a dark, masculine appearance. His hair, slicked back with oil, played no part, being dark and flattened out of sight, no curls, spikes, or pompadours for this fellow. He had no nonsense hair that declared the man to be serious business. Biting her lip, she realized she found him to be a turn-on. Her conscience screamed that she thought every man was a turn-on, and it wasn't a good thing.

He made an unexpected break from the roadway and turned down a long, bumpy trail.  Gravel under the tires chinked as they moved. She'd been enjoying the scenery and the abrupt change in course startled her. In fact. her instincts to escape kicked in. This didn't feel like an amorous rendezvous. Something was wrong. He stopped the car in front of an old shack. And he accomplished the stop by yanking a wire under the dash.

"You stole this car!"

"Are you're just catching on to that?" He laughed. "Come here, sweetheart! Gimme some lovin'!" His voice was deep, breaking in his throat.

He reached but before his fingers could touch Trudy, she bolted out the door. Kicking off her red patent stilettos and hiking up her skirt, she took off running.

"Bitch! Come back here!" He yelled as he took out after her.

One good thing about Trudy was she'd always been whisper-thin and light on her feet, all of which she put to good use flying across a farmer's field. Row after row of corn stalks loomed ahead, their silks blowing and glistening in the sun. Without hesitation Trudy ran into the maze of sunny green and yellow. She shot down one row and across, row after row until she'd buried herself deep within the confines of the field. Finally, she stopped and squatted low, hoping to stay hidden.

Joe Tobin stood at the edge of the field after seeing Trudy disappear. "Well, it looks like this will be the damnedest, hardest money I ever made," he mumbled. Whipping his gun out from the back of his waist band, he started his way down the first row.

***

Buzz was nodding off, sunshine warming his legs as rays streamed through the window and spread across the bed. He was half asleep, dreaming of Jeannie--his wife was healthy and smiling, when suddenly Trudy's face popped into the reverie, red, distorted and screaming his name. It jarred him, and he bolted up, trembling and gasping for breath, drenched with feelings of dread lingering like the aftertaste of a very bad wine. He wasn't certain where he was for a moment, still living the nightmare. Then he remembered the hospital. He recalled Gil saying they let Trudy go free. He was haunted by her face in the dream, the cries for help. As his senses sharpened, he put all the pieces together. If only he were well, he'd find Trudy, make sure she was okay. He owed her that much. She'd been a good friend to him. Sure, they rolled around in the hay, but she was also a good companion, making friendly pillow talk, occasionally being a good listener. If she was in trouble, he wanted to help, because he was a cop and because he was her friend. But he couldn't. His injured calf shot a teeth-grinding spasm of pain through his body as if to exert its dominance in the situation. There was only one thing he could think to do. He grabbed his cell, and punched the speed dial for Gil.

"Hey, Gil! Buzz! Would you do me a favor? I can't explain, but I'm worried about Trudy. Now, I know you don't want anything to do with her, but you gotta check on her for me."

"Are you nuts, boss! That woman's crazy!"

"All the more reason to worry! You never know what she is going to do! Besides, she's supposed to be transformed. Maybe she is not as crazy now, ha ha!"

"It's not a laughing matter, boss! I got a real bad feeling about this. Can't you get someone else?"

"Nah, Hank acts strange around me since the Jeannie thing, and there's no one else I trust."

Wow, trust from Buzz Miller was a big thing, a very big thing. Gil felt honored to be so bestowed. An argument in his head went back and forth--half of him wanting to cement that trust, and half wanting to run for the hills away from Trudy.

"Gil! Are you still there??"

He realized he needed to reply. His oath as an officer of the law stepped into the mental fracas and made itself known. He saw himself on the day he got his badge, smiling, wearing a freshly pressed uniform, idealistic. On the tails of that image, a sense of duty took center stage.

"Okay, boss! I'll try to track her down and make sure she's okay." But he still had a very bad feeling about it.