The Date

Jerry couldn't believe what was happening. It was just as he feared. "Damn it, why doesn't she call me? I told her to call if she got into any trouble."

"I think he may have taken her phone away from her, Jerry. Just before they took off, he threw something in the trunk. I'm pretty sure it was Marcy's purse."

This was not sounding good. Why wouldn't the guy let her call unless he was planning something other than dinner. "Emmy, where are they now?"

"We're heading north on Wabash; we just past Ohio Street."

"Okay, don't let them out of your sight." He was about to hang up and jump in his car when he remembered she didn't have his cell phone number. He grabbed a pen and paper, "Emmy, what's your number. I'm going call it from my cell so you have the number. Then I'm going to take off and head toward you."

"Okay, Jerry." He wrote the number on a note pad, grabbed his cell and rushed out the door.

Emmy picked up as soon as he called her back. "Jerry?"

"Yeah, I'm pulling out of my drive right now."

"Okay, we're still on Wabash."

"Okay, good. You're heading in my direction. I don't want to stay on the phone while driving so I'm going to hang up. I'll call you back when I get closer to town. If anything happens before then...he pulls off somewhere or stops, call me back and let me know; in the meantime, call the police and tell them what you told me."

"I will, Jerry. I'm so sorry for this. I should never have talked her into this."

"Emmy, stop blaming yourself; this is not your fault. I'm going to hang up now, but remember, call me back if anything happens."

In spite of Jerry telling Emmy it wasn't her fault, she would be a long time feeling responsible if anything happened to her friend.

Jerry was barreling down the Kennedy Expressway when his phone rang. "Yeah."

"Oh, Jerry, we lost them," Emmy wailed.

Jerry felt his heart drop.

Emmy was beside herself with grief as she explained. "I was on the phone with the police when he pulled up to a red light and turned right in front of the traffic. By the time we could make the turn they were gone."

"Damn it! Did you get the license number?" he pled.

"Not all of it but I got the first three numbers. They were G35 and it was a silver Mercedes. I told the police but they didn't sound too hopeful of spotting the car with just a partial plate number. I'm sorry, Jerry. I should have thought about writing down the license number before I called them. Oh God, Jerry, I'm so sorry!"

Jerry was always good in an emergency. His brain immediately started running through his options. "It's okay, Emmy. I'm going let you go, I have to think." He disconnected the call. Where would he take her, he wondered? If she was really drugged he couldn't very well take her out in public. He's probably headed for home...where ever that is.

With a hope and a prayer, Jerry passed his originally intended exit for the next one down. Tires screeched to a stop and he flicked the emergency blinkers on as he pulled up in front of the hotel. He ran past the desk and into the banquet hall. Almost everyone was gone, but a few people were still lingering about. His heart was pounding as he surveyed the room, looking for someone in authority. He spotted three people sitting at a table in the far corner. They had two lap top computers in front of them and appeared to be still counting up the evening's proceeds.

"You have to help me," he said, startling the three. "My wife was one of the girls auction off tonight and I think the guy she's with has drugged her. I think he's going to rape her."

"What?" said the oldest of the three, "I doubt that. All our participants have been thoroughly checked out and..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all that, but I'm tell you...one of the other girls saw him drug the water she was drinking. I want the guy's name and address."

"I'm sorry," replied the same guy. "We don't give out that information."

"Listen to me. If that man rapes my wife I'm coming after you and your whole damn charity. I'll sue you for every fucking penny you've got, and even if I don't win the suit, the publicity will kill you."

The three looked at each other. "Give him what he wants," said one of the other guys.

"Okay, what is your wife's name?" the older gentleman asked.

"Marcella Dixon," answered Jerry.

"Yes, I've got her right here...number twenty-three. Let's see...yeah, here he is; James Shore, but I don't think..."

"Write it down for me; his name and address," Jerry anxiously told him. "WRITE IT DOWN," he hollered when they hesitated.

Without further delay, the older guy grabbed a pen and paper and wrote down the information.

"Call the police. Tell them I'll meet them there, but not to wait for me," exclaimed Jerry as he grabbed the paper and took off at a dead run back to his car.

***

Lost in a cloud of incoherent thought, Marcy felt almost weightless as she tried desperately to focus on her surroundings. She could feel the car's movement as it stealthily cruised the city streets. Bright lights reflected off the windshield and glided effortlessly upward until disappearing at the roofline. Soft music emanated a relaxing, serene mood as the luxury vehicle navigated through the night.

Something was wrong but she couldn't bring herself to be frightened or even concerned.

Finally the movement stopped. Through her hazy mind she heard the opening and closing of a car door; then her own door opened and she felt the warm summer air on her face. A man was taking her by the arm and pulling her from the silver chariot.

"Come on, my beautiful little slut. I can't wait to get you naked," he told her while turning the home security system off with his phone.

This was not the first time he'd done something like this. In his younger years he considered it one of the perks for having a rich daddy. No matter how many times he got in trouble, daddy always paid someone off and got him out of it. In fact, five times he'd forced himself on an unwilling sex partner. He enjoyed the control; it gave him a real rush. Now that daddy had passed away, the money, the company, the power...it was all his.

Marcy was having trouble walking. She wondered why her legs wouldn't work right.

The tall, dashing man led her around to the back of the large house. Another code on his phone unlocked the glass sliding, patio doors.

"No," slurred Marcy faintly, as he put his hand on her back and gave her a nudge inside. "Plea..." She was having trouble sounding out her words. She wasn't sure why, but she was feeling uneasy and hesitated. A second, more persuasive push forced her inside.

"Come on now, dear, don't be difficult. I don't want to have to hurt you," he said in a threatening tone.

Once inside, he drew the door closed and immediately pulled down the zipper of her brand new dress. Even with her brain in a fog, Marcy closed her eyes and felt ashamed as his fingers reached into the open back of the dress and touch her bare skin. He slipped his hands forward, causing the silky fabric to fall at her feet, then moved in front of her to take in the vision of loveliness before him.

"I'm disappointed. What's with the granny underwear?" he maliciously teased. "This needs to come off right now." Standing face to face, the sinister man leered as he reached around to unhook her bra... "No, wait a minute." He stopped as another thought struck him. "Unveiling a body like this should be documented," he told her. "But first, I need some cooperation from you...a little excitement," he said mockingly.

The drug had taken away Marcy's resistance but at the same time, it had also zapped any enthusiasm on her part; but he had a cure for that. He took her by the hand and walked her through the house and up to the second floor bathroom. He opened a drawer and pulled out another pill, then filled a glass with water.

"Open," he commanded, pulling down on her lower jaw.

In her drug induced state, Marcy was easily forced to open her mouth.

"Here you go," he said placing the pill on her tongue. He put the glass to her lips and tipped it up. "Swallow. That's it...good girl; a little Ecstasy to go with the Rohypnol. We'll give it a few minutes to kick in," he told her while leading Marcy into the master bedroom. "Here, sit on the bed. I'm going to get the video camera. By the time I get it all set up, you should be feeling the effects of the Ecstasy; then you and I are going to have some real fun."

***

The distraught husband was disappointed as he pulled up to the address and found the police hadn't arrived yet. The place had a wrought-iron fence around it but it wasn't anything he couldn't get over. There was a silver Mercedes in the drive. The plate number started with G35. Jerry picked up his phone and called 911.

"911, what is your emergency?" came the female voice from the speaker.

"I'm at thirteen-forty, North State Parkway. I'm afraid my wife is in the house and she's being raped."

"Sir, is this a domestic dispute?"

"No, damn it. She went to that damn charity auction tonight and got hooked up with a rapist. Hurry!"

"Yes, sir; I've dispatched a car to the scene. ETA is twelve minutes. Please..."

"Twelve minutes! That's ridiculous. This is the second call you've gotten for this address, you should be here already. Can't you get here any quicker than that? Every second counts. It could already be too late!"

There was a brief delay before she spoke again. "Sir, I'm sorry but there have been no other calls for that address. I'm afraid that's the quickest they can get there. Please try to calm down and wait for the officers. Do not try to take the law in your own hands..."

He didn't want to hear anymore. Those bastards from the auction didn't even call the cops. When this is all over I'm going make sure everyone knows just what kind of organization that is, he told himself as he hit the disconnect and got out of his car.

The place was big and expensive; hell, there were no inexpensive homes on the Gold Coast. He had no idea what kind of alarm system the guy might have had. Surely a place like this must have one that's pretty sophisticated, he thought; but then who cares, the cops are on their way. Maybe an alarm will just get them there quicker.

Jerry pulled his car onto the sidewalk and alongside the fence, hopped up on the hood and jumped over the iron barricade. Once in the yard he made a mad dash for the front door. As far as he could tell, no alarms had sounded, but he guessed they could be silent. The big solid Oak double doors were locked and he immediately recognized the senselessness of trying to break them down.

He ran around the side of the house and tried looking in a window but there was very little light and he couldn't see anything. Then his peripheral vision caught the light in the second story window. There was no doubt in his mind that the bastard had his wife up stairs, in the bedroom. Now starting to panic, Jerry looked around the back of the house and saw the patio doors. If he could find something to break the glass, it looked like the easiest point of entry. On a whim he tried them and couldn't believe the door slid right open.

***

Marcy was by far, the most beautiful woman Jim ever had in his bedroom. Just thinking about what he was going to do to her, had his cock harder than he could ever remember. Menacingly, he stared at her sitting on the bed as he started removing his clothes.

Naked, he took Marcy's hand. "Come my pet," he sneered, pulling her up to stand with him in front of the camera. "Now, finally we're going to see you in all your glory," he whispered in her ear as he moved behind her. Slowly, he unhooked her bra and slid it down her arms, letting it drop to the floor. His clammy hands reached around and felt the soft flesh of her breasts. He heard her gasp with desire as he pinched her nipples and knew she was under the full effects of the drugs. The Rohypnol clouded her mind, zapped her free will, and affected her memory. The Ecstasy released serotonin, and with every touch, would arouse the senses and send waves of sexual pleasure to the brain.

Completely unaware of her surroundings or whose hands were caressing her, Marcy could only revel in the euphoria of sensations that now held her in rapture.

Jim was in no hurry. He knew, even though her mind wouldn't respond, her body would. Evil thoughts of using the video to blackmail her into becoming his sex slave crossed his mind as he looked into the camera and grinned. Entirely unwary of the approaching police sirens, he slowly worked his hand down her body.

Having lost all control, Marcy moaned with pleasure at the touch of his fingers as they rubbed her clit from outside the silky fabric of her panties.

***

Jerry had just stepped inside the house and saw his wife's dress when he heard a moaning sound from above him.

"Aaahhhhhhhooo!"

He bolted for the stairway and took the steps two at a time. From the top of the landing he could see into the bedroom as his nemesis was climbing between the sprawled legs of his naked wife.

Dashing through the doorway, he threw the camera and tripod out of his way and was on top of the would-be rapist. Before he could even react, Jerry grabbed him by the hair and hauled him off the bed, but once the evil man found his footing, he swung around and kicked Jerry's feet out from under him, sending Marcy's surprised savior to the floor with a thud.

Being naked was a definite disadvantage, but even though he'd never had the need before, Jim was determined to use the martial arts training he'd received years prior. Aiming for his assailant's face, Jim attacked with a side kick in Jerry's direction.

Unlike his foe, Jerry had no formal training but he had something his opponent didn't have...rage! He grabbed the foot before it landed and bent the big toe back until he heard a crack that was immediately followed by a cry of pain. Jim fell backward in agony.

The doorbell was ringing violently and they both heard the police trying to enter the building. Jim struggled to get up but Jerry wasn't finished with him yet. He charged his adversary, knocking him down. Jerry was able to connect with two good punches before...

"Freeze!"

Jerry looked up to see two uniformed cops standing in the doorway with their weapons drawn and pointing at him. He immediately put both hands in the air. "I'm the one who called you," he yelled. "That's my wife on the bed over there and this piece of shit was trying to rape her."

"Okay," replied the lead cop, "everyone just calm down. You," he said, motioning to Jerry with the barrel of his gun, "get over there, against the wall."

As soon as Jerry stood up, Jim started yelling. "Officer, arrest him. My name is Shore, I live here. My girlfriend and I were making love when this lunatic broke in and attacked us."

"That's a lie," Jerry shouted. "She's my wife. Look at her. The son-of-a-bitch drugged her."

"Alright, everyone just calm down until we get to the bottom of this." The officer looked at Marcy who was still lying naked on the bed. She didn't react at all like someone normally would in that kind of situation. She didn't look scared or even embarrassed; she looked confused, disoriented. "Is your girlfriend on drugs, Sir?" he asked Jim.

Jerry spoke up again. "She's not his girlfriend..."

The wary cop held up his hand signaling for him to be quiet.

"Ah, well I think she took an Ecstasy, I'm not sure," Jim responded.

The second cop went over to Marcy and lifted her eyelid. He'd seen that far-away look before. "She's had a lot more than just Ecstasy," he told his partner.

"Look," Jerry intervened again, "Her name is Marcy Dixon; I'm telling you, she's my wife. She never even met this guy until tonight. She was in a charity auction down town. That's where she met this creep."

He was happy to see the officers were finally listening to him so he continued.

"The deal is, women volunteer to go up on a stage and be auctioned off. All the money goes to charity and the highest bidder is just supposed to take the woman out for dinner afterward, that's all...just dinner. One of Marcy's friends was there as well, and saw this piece of shit drug the water she was drinking. She called me and I got the people at the auction to give me this guy's address. When I got here I found him on top of her. Look at her," he said with exasperation. "You, said yourself, she's been drugged."

"You let your wife be auctioned off to the highest bidder?" one of the officers asked judgmentally.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it was against my better judgment. I was worried about just this kind of thing happening, too; but I got talked into letting her do it because it was for charity."

From the look on their faces, Jerry wasn't sure if they believed him or not.

"Please...my wife needs to get to a hospital. I'm not sure if he had a chance to rape her or not. When I came in it looked like he was just getting started but I'm not sure. They also need to test for drugs in her system. Please!"

Before Jerry even finished his plea, one of the officers had already turned his head toward his police radio and was requesting an ambulance. When he was done, he addressed the naked man still sitting on the floor, holding his foot and moaning.

"Are you hurt?"

"Yeah, I'm hurt. That asshole broke my toe," Jim complained.

The officer also noticed a pretty good bruise starting to form around his left eye.

"Okay, get dressed," he said before turning his attention toward Jerry again. "What about you, any cuts or bruises?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Okay, these two are going to the hospital, you're coming to the station with us until we sort all this out," stated the first cop.

Jerry was getting angry. "The station! No, I'm staying with my wife. I'm going to the hospital with her...wait a minute," he had a thought. "I'm going to get my phone out of my pocket, okay?"

One of the boys in blue nodded. "I'm calling Marcy's friend, the one who saw this guy drug her. I'll put it on speaker so you can hear her," he said while hitting the call-back button.

She answered on the first ring. "Jerry, what's happening? Where are you? I've been so worried. Is Marcy okay? Did you find her?" The questions came in rapid succession.

"Emmy, yes, I found her. I think she's going to be okay but she's pretty well drugged up. Listen, I have you on speaker. There are two cops with me. Tell them just what you told me when you called the first time."

"You mean about that guy drugging her?"

"Yeah, just tell them what happened."

"Well yeah, we were at a charity auction. There was this guy, what an asshole; anyway, he was the highest bidder for Marcy. On the way out of the auction, I saw him put something in the water she was drinking. I think it was like one of those date rape drugs. He just seemed like the type, you know. Anyway, we tried following them in the car but we lost them. I called Jerry and told him what happened. What's going on?" she asked again.

"Emmy, I'll tell you all about it later. Marcy's pretty out of it and I'm trying to get these officers to let me go to the hospital with her. That's why I called you," he told her. "They didn't believe me. They want to take me to the station."

"Oh no, you tell them I'm a witness. If they need me to testify in court, or anything like that, I'll be glad to."

"Okay, thanks Emmy. I got to let you go for now but I'll call you later and tell you all about it; Marcy should be okay though. Thanks for all your help tonight. I mean it. Oh, and thank your date for me. I'll bet following somebody all around the city wasn't exactly what he had in mind for tonight," Jerry added with a chuckle.

He ended the call then looked at the two cops. "Well?"

Both officers looked at one another; one nodded his head. "Okay, we'll let you go to the hospital with your wife," he told Jerry, then turned toward his radio again. "Dispatch, it looks like this is going to be a crime scene. I need somebody down here to tape it off and secure the premises. We're going to the hospital with the victims. I'm also going to need a couple detectives and a search warrant for drugs. Oh, include the car on the warrant as well...yeah, okay."