"Anything I can do to help on this?" Allen Kane asked.

"Yeah-help Cindy practice. Go sit on the couch, like it was a car seat. You're going to be the esteemed Congressman. I forget what he drives, but it's something big and American. Cindy, you're going to get him to move away from the steering wheel and into the passenger seat so you can get astride him. Allen, when she's on top of you, have her practice finding the 'V under your ribcage in a hurry. Heart's the way to do it, I think," Henry said as he went into the kitchen.

"What're you going to be doing?" Cindy asked.

"Putting one of my halfway-decent kitchen knives on a coarse grinder. Turn it into something that a crackhead whore from East St. Louis might carry, with friction tape on the handle. Best place to leave a murder victim is in an area with a lousy forensics department, preferably in such a condition that it looks like he brought his troubles on himself."

"I told you you had an orderly mind," Cindy said. She turned to Allen Kane, who was sitting on the couch and looking nervous. "Don't look that way. We'll practice without the knife." Men are so predictable she thought cheerfully.

"That's not what's worrying me."

"Oh, that," Cindy said with a smile. "Don't worry. I'm a professional." She settled onto Allen Kane's lap. "Well," she said, laughing. "Let's hope the Congressman has the same reaction."

"Third time is indeed the charm," Henry said as he looked over Allen's shoulder and through the window of the crowded West County restaurant. The bar was four-sided, with two women in open-necked tuxedo shirts standing in the center serving drinks. "He's about five feet from the corner on the far side. Wirerimmed glasses, blue suit, white shirt, red tie, talking to the bald Jewish guy."

"Got him," Cindy said. Skinnier than I expected was her first impression.

"Call me when they leave," Henry said to Allen, then turned and headed back out into the parking lot as his friends walked towards the bar's entrance.

Allen went in first and immediately walked to the men's room. Cindy waited a few moments, then opened the door and headed for the bar. Jerry Abel's eyes slid reflexively across her, as they did with every new entrant to the room. Smile, and look him in the eyes, but hold it just a beat longer than normal. She found a stool at the bar with a half-finished drink and a few bills in front of it, and asked for a seltzer with lime.

Jerry Abel's eyes fell on Cindy Caswell repeatedly over the next twenty minutes. Each time, she held his gaze, but then glanced nervously towards the area where bar patrons sat at small tables. That ought to about do it she thought as she patted her mouth with her napkin and slid off the stool.

"Excuse me," Cindy said as she squeezed past the Congressman on her way to the women's room.

"They're probably violating the fire code with this size crowd," Abel said with a big smile. "May I b-" He stopped what he had been about to say in mid-sentence as he felt the young woman press a folded business card into his hand. His fingers closed involuntarily around it as she brushed past him with a nod.

Congressman Abel took a sip of his scotch, looked absentmindedly around at some of the other bar patrons, and then unfolded the card under the bar rail and read it. My ex-husband's best friend is sitting at a table over to your left, so I'd rather not stay here. If you'd like to go somewhere else, bring your car to the southwest comer of the lot. Congressman Abel turned the business card over and read the name and company printed on it.

"Check, please," Abel said to the bartender. He paid his tab, left a generous tip, glanced in the direction of the rest rooms, and headed for the exit.

"I'm glad you wanted to leave," Cindy said as she slid into the front seat of the Lincoln and extended her right hand in greeting. "Christine Weld," she added, using the name of the woman realtor whose card Henry had found in his desk drawer.

"Pleased to meet you. Jerry Abel."

"I hope you're not too surprised. I know you're married-I mean, I can see you're wearing a wedding ring. But I was staring at you, and..." She let the sentence hang, then looked down in her lap. "I just wanted to go in for a quick drink, talk about something besides real estate, but my ex-husband..." She shivered. "He's got a restraining order, but I don't trust him to obey it. He likes to spy on me, and one black eye and one broken eardrum was plenty. Thanks for meeting me out here," Cindy said again with a warm smile.

"I'm co-sponsoring a federal anti-stalking law," Abel said. "Your case is just one more example of why we really need it."

"Do you think you'll have the votes to pass it?" Cindy answered. Like making one more thing against federal law will do anything about the problem she thought. Idiot.

"I'm almost sure of it. There are a lot of women in your situation, and it's time we did something for them," Abel said. Cindy smiled. He's happy that the adoring girl recognizes his position in the legislature. "I'm always worried about it, particularly when I'm out showing empty houses to men I've never met before."

"Then you're the perfect example of why we need the new law."

"Thank you." For nothing she added mentally. You didn't do a damn thing to help us get a concealed carry law here. Asshole.

"Where shall we go, Christine?"

"You decide," Cindy answered as she laid her hand on the Congressman's thigh.

"God, I can't believe how long you can last," Cindy said as she rode Jerry Abel's erection and pinched his nipples. "And it's been such a long time for me." Before he could reply, Cindy covered his mouth with hers and resumed probing with her tongue. She ran her fingers through the hair on his chest and pushed his unbuttoned dress shirt farther apart. "I want you to come in my mouth," she said suddenly as she uncoupled herself from the Congressman and slid to her knees on the passenger-side floorboard. Abel made a noise in the back of his throat.

Cindy Caswell quickly peeled off the condom she had put on Jerry Abel ten minutes earlier, and threw it on the floor. Holding him with her left thumb and forefinger, she took his entire length in her mouth with one smooth motion as she reached into her purse with her free hand. Cindy had no difficulty finding what she wanted; there were only two items in the handbag.

"I want to try something," she said a few moments later when she took a break from her efforts. The object she had in her hand looked like a miniature bicycle clip for securing a cyclist's trouser cuffs. It was a circle of spring steel with a slight gap where the ends were bent in tiny reverse curves. I wonder what other things Henry keeps in the drawer on his nightstand Cindy thought as she pulled the ends apart with her fingers and slid the metal loop over Abel's erection. The spring steel was under tension and it firmly encircled the base of his shaft. "This will keep you hard even afterwards." Like for the rest of your life.

"Lean back and close your eyes," Cindy commanded as she smudged the fingerprint she had left on the metal. "I'm going to see if I can do this with no hands." As if that takes any particular skill she added mentally. She glanced up to make sure that the Congressman was complying with her instructions, then her lips once again traveled down the length of his penis, this time until they touched cool metal. Cindy's heart was beating faster as she slid her right hand into her purse for the second time. Her fingers closed around the handle of Henry's reground kitchen knife. Feels almost sticky. Tacky, that's the word Cindy thought as she felt the cloth friction tape wrapped around the wood. Cindy increased both the movement of her head and the suction she was applying. Soon it was obvious that Jerry Abel was on the brink of orgasm.

"Hold it..." Cindy urged him. Abel clamped his teeth and eyes shut in a grimace, trying to delay the climax that was about to burst from his loins. As the Congressman threw his head back and tried to halt the impending release, Cindy Caswell held the six-inch blade so that the flat side was up. Without hesitating, she jammed the knife into the soft spot just below Jerry Abel's sternum. When the steel was all the way in, Cindy yanked the handle sideways, to Abel's right. Congressman Abel opened his eyes and his jaw dropped as the cutting edge neatly bisected his heart.

Cindy pressed against the dashboard, wanting to stay away from any torrent of gore that was going to gush out of the corpse. With the heart cut in half, though, Abel's circulatory system was shut down, and gravity alone had a much milder effect. A small trickle of blood slowly oozed from around the blade and ran down the late Congressman's chest and into his lap. Just like Henry said it would, if I wrecked the heart straight off she thought. Cindy reached over to her left and pulled the passenger-side door handle. Then she rose up off the floor and got her legs out onto the pavement. Whatever you do, don't vomit inside the car. That's what Henry said, too she reminded herself. Funny, I don't feel queasy at all. Cindy slid the rest of the way out of the car, reached back in and retrieved her purse, then closed the door behind her without letting it latch. When she turned around, she saw Henry and Allen walking towards her across the near-empty parking lot.

"Nice job," Henry said with a nod as he looked at the corpse. "Where's the rubber?"

"Oh. Uh, on the floor somewhere."

Henry knelt down beside the open door and began rummaging.

"It's, uh, over on the driver's-" She stopped in mid-sentence when she realized that Henry was going through the dead man's pockets. It was easy, as Abel's suit pants were already off and wadded into a ball on the floor.

"Here," Henry said, holding his hand out behind him without turning around. In it was the business card Cindy had used to pick up the Congressman in the bar. Next, Henry handed Allen the dead man's billfold, money clip, and address book, and Allen put them in his own jacket pocket. Then Allen stepped back as Henry dropped the condom onto the pavement. Allen wiped the door handle with the corner of a terrycloth towel, then handed the towel to Henry. He quickly ran it over the door panel, lock, and handle before pushing the door closed.

"You touch anything else?" he asked as he walked around to the driver's side and opened the door. "I don't think so. No."

"Probably won't need this at all," Henry said as he rolled up the towel and wedged it between the driver's seat cushion and the body. It was to prevent any blood from seeping over onto where Henry was going to sit. He looked carefully at the corpse, realizing something.

"You didn't let him come."

"No. I did it right before." Henry thought about that for a moment.

"I like that even better," he said. "Okay. Follow me, and if a cop gets behind us, one of you do something mildly illegal like driving twenty over. Probably be better if it was Cindy, since she's in her own car." Henry reached in through the driver's door and pushed Congressman Abel's corpse so it fell over on its side across the passenger seat, then checked to be sure the towel made an effective barrier. "We get across the river, Cindy, you peel off and head up north to the sex-shop strip. Then we'll meet you at the Benny's south of the club. You know where it is." He turned to Allen. "Don't lose me, okay?"

"I'll try not to." Henry nodded at this, then slid in behind the steering wheel of the late Congressman's Lincoln and started the engine.

"I got everything we needed," Cindy said as she sat down in the booth next to Allen. "I think I made the cashier's day."

"The rest of the clientele in there all a bunch of shitbums?"

"A lot of guys in business suits, as a matter of fact. Couple women, too. You know- hair in curlers, too much makeup, hoping for a miracle."

"Like we all need," Allen broke in.

"So no trouble finding one open this late?" Henry asked.

"Jesus, Henry, where have you been? They're all open this late-this is when they do their best business. People in Brooklyn, Illinois, would all be on welfare and the city would be broke if it weren't for the titty bars, massage parlors, and sex-toy shops."

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking." Henry tipped up his glass and finished his orange juice. "Is the next part going to be a problem?" he asked.

"If management finds out, I'll get fired, but I don't guess that's what you meant."

"No," Henry said with a small smile.

"I'll be fine. I have a few 'regulars' who I think would do anything I asked them to. For a couple of free private dances..." She laughed as she left the sentence unfinished. "The problem will be what they expect the next time I see them." Cindy looked over at Allen. "You know, this idea sounded crazy at first, but now it makes perfect sense. I never would have thought of it, though."

"Most people's minds don't work like his."

"Sometimes I feel lucky it works at all," Henry said good-naturedly. "How about the time off part? If that's a problem, I can do this alone."

"No, they'll give me a few weeks off on short notice. I've been the most reliable one there for a long time now. Some of the girls are no-shows every few days."

"Just like anything. Treat it like a real business and you end up with real money." He turned to Allen. "Cindy now has a stock portfolio worth over four hundred thousand dollars." Allen Kane's eyes grew wide. "A dollar at a time," Cindy Caswell said with a smile.

"I guess I'll stop wondering if you feel exploited," Kane said. "How do you avoid the government giving you a hard time?"

"I buy money orders at Seven-Eleven, and deposit them in a variable annuity. No reporting requirements and no taxes until I take the money out. Henry found that deal for me," she added.

"Interesting," Kane said, clearly impressed. "And that reminds me," he said as he reached into his pocket. "Here." He slid Congressman Abel's money clip off a sheaf of bills and handed her the money. "You earned it." Cindy looked at Henry, who nodded.

"Allen's right. This is going to go a lot better with you than if we were winging it, as you demonstrated an hour ago. And whatever's there," he said, nodding at the bills in Cindy's hand, "is going to look like peanuts when the feds start offering rewards."

"How high do you think they'll go?" Allen Kane asked with a smile. Henry considered the question for a while before answering.

"Not high enough."

"Would you like a private, David?" Cindy asked as she sat on the man's lap and ran her index finger down his chest.

"Of course, Dusty."

"Then I've got a surprise for you. Three for the price of one. I want to make you come tonight." The customer's eyes got wide. Cindy smiled as she felt him start to grow hard underneath her thigh. "Here," she said, gently slipping a condom packet into his hand underneath the table. "Go in the men's room, take your underwear off, and put this on so you don't stain your suit." She grinned wickedly. "I'm really horny tonight," she added, and stood up to let the excited insurance agent out of his chair.