Dana did more research on Rich Atkins. Being the ballsy detective that she is, she decided to confront him.
She arrived at his store front on ritzy Luckett Drive where he sold high end pieces of art and furniture to the rich and famous. She was sexily dressed to the 9's. More makeup than she was accustomed to wearing. A low cut, white silk blouse that was tucked into a micro mini black leather skirt. She was wearing the tallest black stiletto heels she could find, which only accentuated her long, tan legs.
The woman at the back of the store looked Dana up and down. "May I help you?"
"Sure. Mr. Atkins is expecting me."
The woman looked at her desk and ran her finger across a ledger. "I don't see that he has anything scheduled. Are you sure he's expecting you?"
"The agency sent me over."
The woman looked like somebody stuck a turd under her nose. "Oh, I see. I'll let him know you're here."
"Yeah, you do that."
A few minutes later, the woman came back. "Right this way."
Soon Dana was standing in a large, impressive looking office. The walls were mahogany and covered with fine art and pictures of Rich Atkins with various high profile members of society. Politicians, sports figures, rock stars, movie stars. Rich Atkins sat behind a large desk while two goons stood off to the side. They were all well dressed in suits and ties.
Atkins got up from his chair and walked around his desk. His lips curled into a nasty grin while his eyes undressed Dana. 'I didn't order anything from the agency, but damn! Maybe this is a freebie."
Dana shook her head. "No, 'fraid not." She looked at the goons. "You look really familiar. Aren't you, like, WWE guys or something?" The two nodded and laughed. "She turned her attention back to Atkins. "No, sorry to disappoint you, the agency didn't send me. And this ain't no freebie. I'm here to talk to you about Jesse Jamison."
Atkins leaned back against his desk and scratched his chin. "Hmmmmm, Jesse Jamison, Jesse Jamison. That a guy or a girl? Doesn't matter. Never heard of him...her...whatever." He looked at the two goons. "How about you guys?"
"Yeah, boss, Jesse. New girl. Ran deliveries."
"Oh, right! Jesse. Right, right, right. Sweet kid. Didn't they find her down by the warehouses with a needle in her arm? Damn shame."
Dana's eyes narrowed to slits. "Yeah, damn shame. You wouldn't happen to know how she wound up down there, would you?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Me? No. Why would I have anything to do with it? She was a delivery person for me with a drug habit. I barely knew her. What's it to you?"
Dana nodded her head. "Right, right. She's a friend of mine. Funny thing is, she showed up at my place the other day with some really fancy, hard to come by weapons. Really nice. Said she got 'em from you. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Atkins laughed. "Ha! Guns?! Ha ha ha!" He wagged his finger at her and smiled. "Yeah, yeah, I know you. You're Rockhard's daughter...granddaughter...some fucking thing. Right?" Dana just glared at him. "Right. Sweetheart, look around you. Does any of this look like I have anything to do with guns?"
"Actually, yeah, it does. Your two goons over there have Glock 19's tucked under their suit coats. Just like what Jesse showed me." The room went silent. "So, you wouldn't mind if I took a look around, right?"
"Nah, go ahead! I've got nothin' to hide. Boys, why don't you, you know, show her around. And then escort her out."
Both goons smiled and nodded. "Sure thing, boss." They opened a side door.
"Hey, Rockhard, if this whole detective thing doesn't work out, I can refer you to the agency. I think you'd have a real future there," he said as he watched her ass walk away. The three men laughed.
Dana stopped, turned, and glared at him. "I think I'll pass."
Dana and the two goons climbed a flight of stairs and walked through a couple of darkened rooms with a few pieces of furniture and paintings nobody wanted. She kept her eyes peeled for anything that looked out of place. So far, nothing. Then the three entered another storage room, this one better lit than the others. There was a small metal desk against one wall with a dry eraser board above it filled with scrawls of what she assumed was inventory. She stared at the board to see if anything looked unusual. Along the back wall was a large window, the only source of light in the room.
"Tour's over, toots," one goon said.
Suddenly, she was being lifted in the air. One had her legs, the other her upper torso. "Hey! Hey! HEY!"
She went sailing through the air, legs and arms flailing. She crashed through the large window, landing in a dumpster just below it. Her body brushed the open lid of the dumpster enough to bring it along with her, fortunately protecting her from the shards of glass that followed her.
When she caught her breath and realized she was still alive, she jumped up and threw the lid open. The two goons were leaning out the window and laughing.
"You motherfuckers!" she screamed.
"Ha ha ha! Have a nice day!" They both disappeared.
She clambered out of the dumpster. Her once shiny silk shirt was stained and rumpled. One shoe was laying in the middle of the alley while the other was nowhere to be found. "Fuck it!" She stomped down the alley plotting her revenge.
For the next several days, she made Atkins all too aware of her presence. She followed him everywhere, not even trying to hide it. She'd even pull alongside of his limo at times, stop, and wave. This went on for days.
One night, she was awakened in her RV by a thick, beefy hand wrapped around her throat and the sheets being torn off the bed. She tried to focus on the two large, shadowy figures in the dark through the quickly forming tears in her eyes. Her cheek stung from a slap.
"Wakey wakey, toots," came the mocking voice.
Fuck! It's the two goons from Atkins office!
Her body was begging for air.
"Mr. Atkins asked us to pay you a visit," one said. "Now let's see what you're hiding under there." A hand grabbed the neckline of her old tshirt and yanked. The room filled with the sound of material being torn apart. "Fuck me! Look at those fuckin' things, will ya, Charlie?!" A hand roughly grabbed a breast.
"They looked good in the office, but goddamn!" Charlie said. Dana's hands clawed at his arm, trying to force him to release the grip on her throat. The room was starting to spin. His open hand raked across her cheek again. "Now, you promise to be nice and I'll let you go. But, if not, well..."
"Fine! Fine!" she squeaked. She coughed and gagged when he removed his hand. "What...what do you want?" she asked while she caught her breath.
"Mr. Atkins asked us to pay you a visit and show you his appreciation for the attention you've given him lately. And encourage you to stop. Ain't that right, Sammy?"
"Yup, sure is. How much appreciation are we goin' to show her?"
"More than she can handle."
Two zips were heard in the darkness, then her leg was grabbed and spun her around until she was laying across her bed.
"Hey! Hey! Stop! What the fuck?!"
"We're going to show you our appreciation!" Charlie said as he spread her legs apart and climbed on top of her.
"Wait! Wait! Fuck!" she screamed as she pushed on his barrel chest.
Sammy grabbed her head and tilted it back. "So help me God, if I so much as feel a tooth, they won't find your body. Now open wide, bitch!" His thick rod pressed against her lips and then through them. She gagged when he forced his length down her throat. Sammy's head flew back. "Oh fuck! She swallowed the whole fuckin' thing!"
