Brush Creek Charlie - D. B. Reynolds (best pdf reader for ebooks TXT) 📗
- Author: D. B. Reynolds
Book online «Brush Creek Charlie - D. B. Reynolds (best pdf reader for ebooks TXT) 📗». Author D. B. Reynolds
the creeps everytime I walk or drive past it.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my work.”
Charlie stepped back into his apartment and politely closed the door. Derrick and Mitchell got the message. Go back down to your own apartment and worry about what goes on in there. The message couldn’t’ve been clearer for the concerned gay couple.
CHAPTER—3
Traumatized best described how Sandy Barnholtz felt after her encounter with a sinister man like Charles Rastelli. She cruised into the driveway of her home in the Hyde Park section of Kansas City. The gear shifted into park and the lights shut off. The engine ran momentarily until she decided to turn it off. A crippling blanket of darkness engulfed the perimeter around her house. Silence created a smothering euphoria of fright. Sandy stepped to the back of her car and stared at her reflection. The glass clouded with water stains and dirt gave her a partial view of Bolo lying dead across the backseat.
The backdoor to the house shot open. A sparkling floodlight lit up the backyard. Sandy jumped and fell back onto the cold metal of her Toyota. There in the doorway stood her lifetime lesbian lover. Carol Wexler stood five-foot-six and was one-hundred fifty pounds of a solid athletic frame. Carol didn’t mind sporting blonde spiked hair with a nose earring and military tattoos across her arms. These were testaments to her devout lesbian lifestyle.
According to Sandy, she represented the feminine side of the relationship while Carol earned her stripes as the masculine one.
“Sandy, my dear, are you alright?” Carol asked her friend, lover, and confidant.
Sandy barely shook off the fright from Brush Creek. “Depends on what you mean by alright.”
“Why are you hanging around out here in the dark? Why don’t you just come in the house?”
“Right now, babe, I’m sorta shook up.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Let me catch my breath.”
“Where’s Bolo?”
“In the backseat.”
“Asleep?”
Sandy took a peek into the backseat. “Carol, something bad happened to Bolo down in Brush Creek.”
“You wanna tell me about it?”
“I’m still trying to get my thoughts together.”
Carol couldn’t cut through the anticipation. She approached the car examining the empty look on Sandy’s face.
One stare into the backseat created a ruckus within her emotions. “Jesus! What happened to Bolo?”
Sandy opened the backdoor and said, “Babe, help me get him in the house.”
“Sandy, who did this to Bolo!” Carol cried out, both hands cupped over her mouth.
“I’ll explain it to you when we get in the house.”
“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
Sandy and Carol lifted Bolo by his front and hind legs. The precious canine was carried into the house and placed on the floor just past the kitchen. Thick blood had caked all around his ripped up abdomen. Carol just couldn’t believe what her eyes bestowed upon her.
“Now, are you going to tell me what happened?” Carol required of Sandy, both hands rested around her waist.
Sandy took a long deep breath and said, “Well, Bolo and I had taken a stroll through Brush Creek. Things were quiet down there until we ran upon this maniac-of-a-creep who seemed to have popped up out of nowhere. Carol, this had to have been one of the ugliest guys that I ever seen in my life. And I’m not just saying that because I’m a lesbian. I see real cute guys all the time, not that I would ever go back over to the other side.”
“I would surely hope not,” Carol disregarded, a true titan of a lesbian.
“Babe, this guy had severely-pitted skin and rotted teeth,” Sandy described in gory details. “Took only a few seconds to realize that this creep was some shell shocked Vietnam veteran. Anyway, he started out talking sweet like all the rest of those jerks out there, that is, until I saw he had a thick sharp piece of glass in his hand.”
“You should’ve took off running.”
“Bolo started growling, ready to attack this bastard on command.”
Carol looked down at the butchered Labrador Retriever and said, “Only a psycho would do something like this.”
“I sicked Bolo on this lunatic and hoped he’d shred him into confetti. Bolo bit into his arm a couple’a times and this nut just smiled as though he’d experienced great pleasure. With that sharp piece of glass, he ripped into Bolo’s stomach, cutting him up like he was mince meat. Blood started shooting out of him like crazy.”
Carol rushed over by the wall and snatched up the cordless phone. “I’m calling the police right now, which is something you should’ve done when this first happened.”
Sandy grabbed her arm and put the phone back on the base. “Babe, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“Have you lost the better half of your mind?” Carol transfused, her head dropped in disappointment. “This looney tune killed our dog, probably had intentions on trying to rape and kill you. Sandy, if we don’t call the police on this nutcake, there’re probably other people out there, moreso other women, he’ll try to rape and kill.”
“I honestly don’t believe he’ll try and rape no woman.”
“Says who?”
“Says myself.”
“How do you know this?”
“Babe, he was wearing a colostomy bag. He admitted he didn’t have a penis nor scrotum. We’re talking about a guy who doesn’t have anything to stick into a woman.”
“Sandy, you can’t be serious!” Carol howled, her face twisted both upward and downward.
“This retarded nutball said that he lost his family jewels in combat. We’re talking about a man who got all messed up in the Vietnam War.”
“And you don’t think he’ll be on the prowl around the city again? You don’t think he’s waiting to prey on his next victim?”
“It’s a strong possibility.”
“The next woman might not be so lucky.”
“You’re right.”
“Who’s to say that he hasn’t already killed someone.”
“This whole incident tonight was rather complex.”
“Calling the police and reporting this incident is the right thing to do. Tragedy is more like the word to describe what happened to you and Bolo tonight.”
Sandy moved into the comfort of her lesbian lover’s arms. “Speaking of Bolo, what should we do about him?”
“Bury him in the backyard.”
“Our best friend is no longer with us,” Sandy cried under her breath.
“We’re going to make this creep pay for what he did to our precious Bolo.”
Sandy lifted Bolo by his front legs while Carol clamped her hands around his hind legs. The brutalized dog was taken to the middle of the backyard. Carol grabbed two shovels from the side of the link fence and they started digging. Dirt went flying every direction as the hole got deeper. A hole dug slightly over four feet became sufficient enough to bury Bolo. Carol and Sandy lifted the canine up and gently dropped him inside. Sandy mashed both eyelids shut. A stream of tears couldn’t be held back.
“Like I said, Sandy, he’ll pay for what he did,” Carol said as words of comfort.
“I know it’s not the Christian way to think, but I’d like to take a big knife and rip his guts all up, just like the way he did Bolo.”
“He’ll get what’s coming to him. I can almost assure you of that.”
“Nightmares is what I’ll have after what happened tonight. That pitted skin and rotted teeth bastard won’t be erased from my memory so easy.
“How about I help you forget it. Starting at about right now.”
Carol took Sandy by the hand and guided her straight into the bedroom. The butch lesbian lifted her better half off the ground and placed her at the middle of the bed.
Decorations of scented candles and potpourri created a paradise for lovers inside their immaculate bedroom. The soft light bathed their faces with an alluring effervescence. Carol pressed the play button to their surround sound stereo system. The soothing voice of Mariah Carey crooned through the entire house. Sandy peeled off her clothing until she presented herself in the total nude. Carol kicked off her Timberland boots and slid her tight jeans just past her knees. To be such a stocky-built woman, she had an eye catching figure.
Their succulent lips met with invitation. Love juices from their tongues moistened the side of their mouths. Sandy made an unexpected move. She stepped forward to palm the missle-like breasts of Carol. Her pink ripe nipples rose to attention. Carol welcomed her soft hands to touch the more sensitive spots on her body. Their bodies generated a gentle warmth. Sandy and Carol climbed to the head of the bed. Both women displayed raw naked flesh. Their bodies joined together in carnal pleasures.
The multi-platinum voice of Mariah Carey intensified their lovemaking. The soft love music toyed with their uninhibited senses. Sandy and Carol slapped bodies as heavy sweat created wet rings on the pastel sheets. Like a wrestling match between two eager opponents, both women fought to achieve the ultimate orgasm. The room overshadowed itself with fleshly bliss. Carol rolled over and snatched open the drawer to their bedside table. Their favorite toy brought the quickest, the brightest smile to her face. She flashed a long silver vibrator towards the peripheral vision of Sandy.
“No, no, babe,” Sandy rejected with an abrupt hand signal.
“Something wrong?” Carol asked, turning off the power to the pleasure tool.
“I don’t feel right.”
“Is it the music?”
“No, the music’s fine.”
“Lights not down low enough?”
“The lights are fine.”
“Should I bring out another one of our joy toys?”
“The vibrator is cool, babe.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my work.”
Charlie stepped back into his apartment and politely closed the door. Derrick and Mitchell got the message. Go back down to your own apartment and worry about what goes on in there. The message couldn’t’ve been clearer for the concerned gay couple.
CHAPTER—3
Traumatized best described how Sandy Barnholtz felt after her encounter with a sinister man like Charles Rastelli. She cruised into the driveway of her home in the Hyde Park section of Kansas City. The gear shifted into park and the lights shut off. The engine ran momentarily until she decided to turn it off. A crippling blanket of darkness engulfed the perimeter around her house. Silence created a smothering euphoria of fright. Sandy stepped to the back of her car and stared at her reflection. The glass clouded with water stains and dirt gave her a partial view of Bolo lying dead across the backseat.
The backdoor to the house shot open. A sparkling floodlight lit up the backyard. Sandy jumped and fell back onto the cold metal of her Toyota. There in the doorway stood her lifetime lesbian lover. Carol Wexler stood five-foot-six and was one-hundred fifty pounds of a solid athletic frame. Carol didn’t mind sporting blonde spiked hair with a nose earring and military tattoos across her arms. These were testaments to her devout lesbian lifestyle.
According to Sandy, she represented the feminine side of the relationship while Carol earned her stripes as the masculine one.
“Sandy, my dear, are you alright?” Carol asked her friend, lover, and confidant.
Sandy barely shook off the fright from Brush Creek. “Depends on what you mean by alright.”
“Why are you hanging around out here in the dark? Why don’t you just come in the house?”
“Right now, babe, I’m sorta shook up.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Let me catch my breath.”
“Where’s Bolo?”
“In the backseat.”
“Asleep?”
Sandy took a peek into the backseat. “Carol, something bad happened to Bolo down in Brush Creek.”
“You wanna tell me about it?”
“I’m still trying to get my thoughts together.”
Carol couldn’t cut through the anticipation. She approached the car examining the empty look on Sandy’s face.
One stare into the backseat created a ruckus within her emotions. “Jesus! What happened to Bolo?”
Sandy opened the backdoor and said, “Babe, help me get him in the house.”
“Sandy, who did this to Bolo!” Carol cried out, both hands cupped over her mouth.
“I’ll explain it to you when we get in the house.”
“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
Sandy and Carol lifted Bolo by his front and hind legs. The precious canine was carried into the house and placed on the floor just past the kitchen. Thick blood had caked all around his ripped up abdomen. Carol just couldn’t believe what her eyes bestowed upon her.
“Now, are you going to tell me what happened?” Carol required of Sandy, both hands rested around her waist.
Sandy took a long deep breath and said, “Well, Bolo and I had taken a stroll through Brush Creek. Things were quiet down there until we ran upon this maniac-of-a-creep who seemed to have popped up out of nowhere. Carol, this had to have been one of the ugliest guys that I ever seen in my life. And I’m not just saying that because I’m a lesbian. I see real cute guys all the time, not that I would ever go back over to the other side.”
“I would surely hope not,” Carol disregarded, a true titan of a lesbian.
“Babe, this guy had severely-pitted skin and rotted teeth,” Sandy described in gory details. “Took only a few seconds to realize that this creep was some shell shocked Vietnam veteran. Anyway, he started out talking sweet like all the rest of those jerks out there, that is, until I saw he had a thick sharp piece of glass in his hand.”
“You should’ve took off running.”
“Bolo started growling, ready to attack this bastard on command.”
Carol looked down at the butchered Labrador Retriever and said, “Only a psycho would do something like this.”
“I sicked Bolo on this lunatic and hoped he’d shred him into confetti. Bolo bit into his arm a couple’a times and this nut just smiled as though he’d experienced great pleasure. With that sharp piece of glass, he ripped into Bolo’s stomach, cutting him up like he was mince meat. Blood started shooting out of him like crazy.”
Carol rushed over by the wall and snatched up the cordless phone. “I’m calling the police right now, which is something you should’ve done when this first happened.”
Sandy grabbed her arm and put the phone back on the base. “Babe, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“Have you lost the better half of your mind?” Carol transfused, her head dropped in disappointment. “This looney tune killed our dog, probably had intentions on trying to rape and kill you. Sandy, if we don’t call the police on this nutcake, there’re probably other people out there, moreso other women, he’ll try to rape and kill.”
“I honestly don’t believe he’ll try and rape no woman.”
“Says who?”
“Says myself.”
“How do you know this?”
“Babe, he was wearing a colostomy bag. He admitted he didn’t have a penis nor scrotum. We’re talking about a guy who doesn’t have anything to stick into a woman.”
“Sandy, you can’t be serious!” Carol howled, her face twisted both upward and downward.
“This retarded nutball said that he lost his family jewels in combat. We’re talking about a man who got all messed up in the Vietnam War.”
“And you don’t think he’ll be on the prowl around the city again? You don’t think he’s waiting to prey on his next victim?”
“It’s a strong possibility.”
“The next woman might not be so lucky.”
“You’re right.”
“Who’s to say that he hasn’t already killed someone.”
“This whole incident tonight was rather complex.”
“Calling the police and reporting this incident is the right thing to do. Tragedy is more like the word to describe what happened to you and Bolo tonight.”
Sandy moved into the comfort of her lesbian lover’s arms. “Speaking of Bolo, what should we do about him?”
“Bury him in the backyard.”
“Our best friend is no longer with us,” Sandy cried under her breath.
“We’re going to make this creep pay for what he did to our precious Bolo.”
Sandy lifted Bolo by his front legs while Carol clamped her hands around his hind legs. The brutalized dog was taken to the middle of the backyard. Carol grabbed two shovels from the side of the link fence and they started digging. Dirt went flying every direction as the hole got deeper. A hole dug slightly over four feet became sufficient enough to bury Bolo. Carol and Sandy lifted the canine up and gently dropped him inside. Sandy mashed both eyelids shut. A stream of tears couldn’t be held back.
“Like I said, Sandy, he’ll pay for what he did,” Carol said as words of comfort.
“I know it’s not the Christian way to think, but I’d like to take a big knife and rip his guts all up, just like the way he did Bolo.”
“He’ll get what’s coming to him. I can almost assure you of that.”
“Nightmares is what I’ll have after what happened tonight. That pitted skin and rotted teeth bastard won’t be erased from my memory so easy.
“How about I help you forget it. Starting at about right now.”
Carol took Sandy by the hand and guided her straight into the bedroom. The butch lesbian lifted her better half off the ground and placed her at the middle of the bed.
Decorations of scented candles and potpourri created a paradise for lovers inside their immaculate bedroom. The soft light bathed their faces with an alluring effervescence. Carol pressed the play button to their surround sound stereo system. The soothing voice of Mariah Carey crooned through the entire house. Sandy peeled off her clothing until she presented herself in the total nude. Carol kicked off her Timberland boots and slid her tight jeans just past her knees. To be such a stocky-built woman, she had an eye catching figure.
Their succulent lips met with invitation. Love juices from their tongues moistened the side of their mouths. Sandy made an unexpected move. She stepped forward to palm the missle-like breasts of Carol. Her pink ripe nipples rose to attention. Carol welcomed her soft hands to touch the more sensitive spots on her body. Their bodies generated a gentle warmth. Sandy and Carol climbed to the head of the bed. Both women displayed raw naked flesh. Their bodies joined together in carnal pleasures.
The multi-platinum voice of Mariah Carey intensified their lovemaking. The soft love music toyed with their uninhibited senses. Sandy and Carol slapped bodies as heavy sweat created wet rings on the pastel sheets. Like a wrestling match between two eager opponents, both women fought to achieve the ultimate orgasm. The room overshadowed itself with fleshly bliss. Carol rolled over and snatched open the drawer to their bedside table. Their favorite toy brought the quickest, the brightest smile to her face. She flashed a long silver vibrator towards the peripheral vision of Sandy.
“No, no, babe,” Sandy rejected with an abrupt hand signal.
“Something wrong?” Carol asked, turning off the power to the pleasure tool.
“I don’t feel right.”
“Is it the music?”
“No, the music’s fine.”
“Lights not down low enough?”
“The lights are fine.”
“Should I bring out another one of our joy toys?”
“The vibrator is cool, babe.”
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