“I like you in the white T-shirt, the low cut back shows off your tan.” Changing her number had not helped. “Are you going out with Robby again tonight?” Changing her routine did not helped. “You seem nervous. “ Having Detective Harris sitting in her living room is not helping.
The caller is watching her now. The detective is signaling her to keep him on the line.
“Yes, I’m getting ready. No, I’m not nervous at all. What makes you think so?” Crystal’s voice cracks. She looks over to the detective. He mouths, “You’re doing fine.”
“You’re not alone. Is he the new man in your life?” She nervously answers his questions, “I’m alone. There is no new man.” She is positive that he’s going to catch on to what they are doing. She never “talks” to this man.
Detective Harris asks her to find out what he wants. She shoots him a look. They both know he wants her.
“What do you want?”
“I want you. All to myself. I want you to love me like you have your lover. I’ve watched you, I‘ve seen you fake orgasm after orgasm. He’ll never make you happy; I’m so much better for you.”
Crystal lets out a small cry. Her eyes search the detective’s eyes, hoping to find an answer. She sees none.
Harris tells her to end the call. Trembling, she hangs up the phone.
“Got the fucker.” He leads her to the bedroom window. With her camera, he focuses the lens on the apartment building behind her. She sees a man in the window, using a telephoto lens like hers, looking back at her. The blinds are never closed in the summer. The crab apple tree covers the entire window, but she sees him clearly.
Harris sees himself out.
Crystal hears the sirens and sees the lights from her bedroom window. It is over.
She heads to the bathroom. There is a knock and thinking its Robby, she opens the door. Slammed against the wall, a hand covers her mouth, the other on her breast. Dragged to the floor, she feels his weight on her. Crystal struggles as he pulls at her clothes but his weight holds her down. She feels something sharp against her neck. Tears stream down her face as he spreads her legs and enters her.
She feels something warm and wet running down her neck. He caresses her breasts. “I told you I can love you better than he did, I told you.“ He says each word with a thrust. “It should not have come to this Crystal; I told you how much better I can love you.”
Crystal’s last conscious thought, “Why isn’t Robby here yet?”
He is standing at the kitchen sink cleaning the knife as Harris trips over Robby’s body and storms through the door. Lying in a pool of blood, Crystal’s glassy stare no longer sees either of them.
