Free The Perfect Murder by Brenda Novak Page A

were two right here. Two who had nothing better to do. Two who were ripe for the taking.
    They were just black women. What would it hurt?
    Come on. Go for it. Maybe if he relieved some of his sexual tension, he'd be able to concentrate, make a decision about Mary. Then he might not be so influenced by the desire to get in her pants....
    Returning to the bedroom, Malcolm flipped on the light. Both girls shrank away from him, but his gaze lingered on Latisha. His father had taught him from the time he was just a boy that minorities weren't worth his attention. But the younger of the two...she was quite pretty, if he let himself look at her that way. She had large tits, an itty-bitty waist and nice round hips. And she didn't have the welts, freshly swollen lip and black eye he'd given Marcie when he'd dragged her into the house from the van.
    "I know how you can guarantee your ticket home," he said.
    Latisha's eyes widened and grew wary at the same time. She'd noticed the change in his voice and manner, but the promise of his words proved too difficult to resist. "H-how?"
    "Spend half an hour with me in the bedroom, doing whatever I ask, and I'll let you go. I promise."
    "In the bedroom?" she repeated, looking as if she was about to be sick.
    "What's thirty minutes?" he asked, trying to make it more appealing. "Thirty minutes for the sake of freedom."
    "Will you let my sister go, too?"
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    "Sure," he said. "But that'll cost the whole night."
    Marcie struggled to scoot closer to Latisha. "Don't do it," she warned. "He's lyin'. He'll drag you outta here and you won't be comin' back, and not 'cause he took you home. He's gonna kill us both. That's what he's gonna do."
    Malcolm felt his hands curl into fists. Marcie was right. He had no choice.
    But it angered him that she wouldn't at least hope for the best. "Shut up! I'm not talking to you, you crackhead bitch!"
    "Please, don' do this to her," Marcie begged. "It's me you're mad at. She ain't done nothin'."
    "But she's the one I want. So stay out of it." He nudged Latisha's knee with his foot. "Take off your clothes."
    Latisha whimpered but didn't act.
    "Come on," he persisted. "Your sister's the one who's lying. I might kill her before we're through, but I won't hurt you, not if you've been good to me."
    Tears slipped from her eyes, but it was Marcie who began to plead. "Please.
    She's my baby sister. She's a good girl. She ain't never been with a man. Take me. I can make it fun. It's me you want to punish."
    This was the most respectful Marcie had been, but Malcolm knew how deeply she hated him. It was all an act to save her sister's sorry ass. "You've got to be kidding me," he responded. "Look at you!"
    "You won't be able to tell what I look like in the dark. Jus' take me outta here, so she don't gotta hear it, and I'll make it worth your while. I promise."
    She'd try to kill him, more likely. He didn't find her appealing. And because of her, he had to go to the trouble of getting a new phone, which meant he needed another alias. He preferred Latisha. But he'd never forced a woman before. He'd spent fifteen years as a cop, believing that rapists were the worst kind of scum, second only to pedophiles. Did he really want to become one of them?
    Even prison inmates had no respect for a rapist. He remembered wondering why they didn't have enough pride to use some self-restraint, and here he was, facing the same temptation. It showed how much he'd changed, but he didn't want to think about that.
    Attempting to ignore the part of him that still balked at what he was about to do, he stepped forward. He'd unchain Latisha and drag her ass out of here if he had to.
    But Marcie got in front of her. "No!" she cried. "You won't take her! Let her 70

    be!"
    The stupid bitch was willing to take another beating. He'd probably have to fight them both. And if it got too violent, he wasn't sure he could get it up.
    "Shut your ugly mouth and go to sleep," he snapped and walked out. He didn't want