Jill Foster never even looked at the burgundy Cadillac next to her as she got in her car. It was hot and she was in a hurry because she had to get home and drop off the groceries before she headed out for work. She was scheduled to work from 5:00 'til 11:00. It was already quarter to four.
She put on her sunglasses and started her ten year old Honda. As she eased her little red Accord back out of the parking spot, she heard a squeaky grinding sound. She stopped her car and looked around. Her front bumper was pressed up against the driver side door of the Caddy. Jill opened her door and stood up. Looking around, she didn't see anyone that looked like a distraught luxury car owner coming to sue, so she climbed back into her car and finished backing out. There was a two foot long dented scratch on the door of the Cadillac.
Jill sat in her car looking at the scratch. She looked at her watch, she knew she should try to wait for the owner, but she had to be at work on time. She thought about leaving a note, then decided with a guilty thrill that anyone who could own a fancy Cadillac like that could afford a little paint for a tiny scratch. She pulled out of the parking lot and promptly forgot the whole incident, not realizing that it was the first step down a sordid trail of sexual experiences.
Five minutes later, Raymond Johnson stepped out of the tailor shop next door to the supermarket. As he adjusted the mirror sunglasses on his broad nose he thought that it was funny that the best custom tailor in the area had chosen to locate in this little strip mall in suburbia. Mrs. Cho could have supported a lot nicer digs than this place. He shot the cuffs on his new shirt and smiled, his white teeth splitting his handsome dark face. She ought to be downtown making suits and shirts for the money men, not out here letting the seams out on cheap suits for the middle managers that lived around here.
The sun gleamed off of his glasses and his shaved head. Raymond was a large man, well over six feet tall and strongly muscled. He moved with confidence and authority, people moved out of his way as he walked across the sidewalk and into the parking lot. Raymond didn't notice, he just expected it. It was obvious to all that Raymond (never Ray) was a man of means and importance.
Raymond was connected. He was a lawyer on retainer with a number of very wealthy gentlemen of various backgrounds in the underworld. Gang members respected him and appreciated his efficiency at keeping them out of jail. The local DAs office hated the guy. He played the race card in court to his advantage so well that it seemed that they could barely get any convictions. He could convince a jury that these drug dealing criminals were simply misunderstood youths who had been abandoned by society. Raymond had also helped certain local people of means connect with the organized underworld for everything from access to underage girls for sex to drugs to money laundering.
Raymond had grown up as a smart kid, and he used those smarts to get into college and law school. But he grew up in the rough part of town. He knew the reality of the streets. He had done his share of petty thuggery and crime before he got out of high school. Nowadays, he operated in a classier environment, but the streets were never very far away.
As he took his keys from his pocket he noticed a scar on the door of his brand new car. He knelt down to look closer. Son of a Bitch! Not only was the paint scratched, but the metal was creased where someone's bumper had hit his car. He had just bought the damn thing and some inconsiderate asshole had dissed him by scratching it. His first thought was that it was deliberate, someone had seen a black guy in a rich man's car and wanted to bring him down a peg. Well, they hadn't seen Raymond Johnson in action. The only person moving down was going to be the little shit that had scratched his car.
Raymond's jaw was clenched as he stood up and looked around the lot. He was well and truly pissed off. As he stood there looking for anyone that looked guilty, he noticed a sign on a nearby light pole. It stated that the parking lot was under 24 hour video surveillance. He relaxed his jaw into a smile. Twenty minutes later, with the help of a hundred dollar tip to a senior citizen security guard, he had a video cassette with Jill's driving recorded for posterity.
As he drove home, Raymond thought about the woman he had seen in the video. She had long sandy blond hair, nice tanned legs that were shown off by a pair of tight shorts, and a fabulous ass that was hypnotizing to watch. She was obviously a woman in touch with her womanhood. He had noticed the glint of sunlight from a wedding ring on her had as she reached for her car door. Raymond decided that he would find out more about this little cutie and extract a fitting price for scratching his car. He smiled to himself, he thought he knew just what would fit - and where!
He reached for his cell phone and dialed his office. "Marie, call the dealer and have them send a loaner car to the office. I want it there in ten minutes. They can pick this thing up and take it back when I get there...What?...No, someone scratched it up. Also call the investigator, not Marcus, use Sam for this one - I need someone that looks legit. Tell him I want everything there is to know about the owner of the car with the license plate JDT-234. If it is a guy, I want everything on him and his wife. I want it by the end of the week. You got all that? Also, have that new girl in my office when I get there, I need some relaxation." He hung up and smiled, thinking about the great tits on the new receptionist.
One week later....
Laura Weldon looked herself over one last time before getting out of the car. Hair, nails, makeup, clothes - all very suburban, all very normal, which was definitely not normal for Laura. She looked in her purse to make sure she had the little vial of liquid that Raymond had given her. Every thing was all together. She was ready for her mission.
She got out of the car and walked up the steps of the house that looked as if were on stilts, double checking the address before she went up. All of the houses on this road were kept at least fifteen feet off the ground to protect them from the tide surge during hurricanes. Laura heard music through the door as she knocked on it. The door opened and a pretty blonde in a long T-shirt stood there.
"Hi. I'm Laura Weldon from the Johnson and Associates law firm here in town. I have a couple of questions that my boss sent me to get answered."
"Well...I am kind of busy. What is this about?" asked Jill.
"One of our clients, I really can't say who, was accused of a hit and run offense last week. One of the witnesses gave us license plate number of your car and said that your car was driving by when this happened. When I drove up and looked at your car just now, it was clear that you are not driving a gray Mercedes. If I could get a little information from you, I think we can prove that this witness is mistaken about the plate number and it will help our case."
Jill thought a moment, then said, "I guess I have time, it is my day off. Come on in, it must be hot out there."
Jill led Laura to the kitchen table, where they sat. Laura took out a legal pad an began questioning Jill about her car, how long he had had it, how long the plates had been on it, and where she was last week. After about ten minutes of questions, Jill asked "Care for some coffee?"
Laura sighed. She had been worried that Jill would never offer. "Yes, please."
Jill brought the coffee over and they continued the legal questions. When Laura took her first sip of her coffee, she mad a face and said, "I'm sorry, I am such a baby. Could I please get just a little more cream in this?"
As Jill opened the refrigerator, Laura emptied the vial of clear fluid into Jill's coffee. "Done!" She thought to herself. Raymond will be happy.
The liquid, dissolved Rohypnol, a sleeping pill illegal in the United States, but available on the black market. It is also known as one of the "Date Rape" drugs. In the right dosage it can cause giddiness and relaxed judgment. Later, after it has worn off, it can produce amnesia over the previous 16-24 hours.
Jill woke up that night when Gary got in from the late shift. She was groggy and confused about the day. She only remembered fragments from early in the morning. She didn't remember going to bed at all.
Gary asked, "How was the day?"
