“Hi. Monte Luett’s the name, car sales is my game. You must be Miss Taylor. Glad to meet ya, sweetheart.”
Without waiting for a response from her, he slung himself into the seat across the table and whistled to the waitress. “Hey, sugar! Bring me a Jack Daniels on the rocks. And make it quick, will ya?”
Turning back to Rachel, he continued without pausing, “So, what’s the game plan? You want to test drive before you buy?” he asked with a leer. “Well let me tell you, this model has all the options. I’m single, only been married twice before. Three’s a charm. I have a smooth-running engine, new treads and a fresh paint job, so to speak. This one rides like a tiger. I guarantee it or your money back.”
Monte ran a hand carefully over the slick waves of his hair and leaned back in his seat so she could fully appreciate the view.
Rachel’s eyes rounded in alarm. A vision of herself standing naked in a used car showroom flickered across her mind. Monte’s beringed, sausage-shaped fingers smoothed their way down her sleek back as he extolled the virtues of this particular model to the growing crowd of customers.
Yessiree, folks. This is a hot little number, very low mileage. Purrs like a kitten when you flick that ignition–-if you know what I mean, he’d say, with a wicked wiggle of his bushy eyebrows.
He’d pat her bottom. This twin-cam engine will go from zero to sixty in no time flat. Would someone like to take her for a test drive? If you like, we can open up the hood and check her oil....
Rachel shook her head and looked into her glass, wondering whether something other than Vodka had found its way into her drink. “I’m sorry, sir, but you must have me mistaken with someone else.”
“I gotta be in the right place. What about the carnation? It was part of the set-up.”
She feigned a look of wide-eyed innocence. “The flower was here when I arrived. Is there supposed to be something significant about it?”
He frowned for a second then shrugged. “No, I guess not. Well, since I’m already here and so are you, can I interest you in a used car or a drink?”
“No, thanks. I’m not in the market for either. Do you mind?” Rachel stared pointedly at him. He finally got the hint and good-naturedly vacated his seat, moving on to schmooze a blonde at the bar.
Groaning, she tossed the remainder of her drink down her throat and leaned her head against the back of the seat.
“So, what was wrong with that one?” Genie drawled. “He was nice to look at.”
“So he thought. There would be a threesome in any relationship with that man. The girl, the man and his ego. No thanks.”
“Well, you aren’t exactly looking for a relationship, are you? He looked healthy, and he certainly seemed willing.”
“I couldn’t stand to be in his company for longer than five minutes,” Rachel harshly whispered. “How the heck would I ever conceive? I’ll keep searching.”
“Don’t look now, but I think that might be number three coming your way.”
Rachel groaned. “Oh, god. I need another drink.”
Both women watched in fascinated horror as the man paused in the doorway to the bar. His gaze darted around the room until it landed on the carnation in front of Rachel. As they watched, he slipped to the side of the room, following the perimeter, with his back to the wall at all times.
Rachel quickly buttoned her jacket up to her chin, and crossed her arms protectively in front of her. When the man reached her booth, he stood back from the empty seat and stared around the room nervously.
After he stood there for a few moments without speaking, Rachel cleared her throat and prompted, “Excuse me, are you Mr. Lindeman?”
“Who wants to know?” His gaze jumped nervously.
“I’m Ms. Taylor. Would you care to join me?” She cringed inwardly. Why did I say that?
He looked over his shoulder one more time before sliding into the seat, scooting as close to the wall as he could.
Lenny Lindeman looked like the star of a horror movie. His skin was so pale it was almost blue, as if he had never seen the light of day. The dark purple circles under his eyes gave him the appearance of the living dead. Sparse bristles stood straight up from his scalp, and his lips were large and moist.
Containing her rising alarm, Rachel launched into her interview. “So, Lenny, what is it you do for a living?”
“My friends call me Mr. Lindeman. I am an animal reconstructive engineer.”
“Animal reconstructive engineer? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that profession.”
“In layman’s terms, I am a taxidermist.”
“Oh.” She gulped, suddenly feeling queasy.
His gaze narrowed on her expression. “The science of taxidermy is a much-maligned discipline. Years of experimentation and study are required to produce professional results. Careful removal and preservation of tissues are needed to maintain the integrity of the desired specimen. It takes a lot of practice to create a natural, life-like expression on the deceased anatomy.”
Rachel hoped her drink would stay down. Her eyes rounded with alarm as she visualized formaldehyde-filled specimen jars containing animal parts, and bubbling crucibles over Bunsen burners in a dark cobweb-filled basement. With nervous trepidation, she asked the next question on her list. “What are you looking for in a relationship?”
“I’m looking for a woman who can share my interests. Have you ever removed the entrails of a Canis Lupus, or the gray matter from the skull cavity of a great horned owl?”
A chill went down Rachel’s spine. “Can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure.”
Anxious about offending her guest, Rachel frantically searched her mind for an effective exit from this delicate situation. Her face lit up and she smiled. “Lenny, I’m sorry to say, but I faint at the sight of blood.”
He drew back. “Oh, dear, such a shame. Well, I’m sure you would get used to it in time, Ms. Taylor.”
“When pigs fly.”
“What?”
Desperately, Rachel repeated the code. “I said, when pigs fly.”
Muffled giggles erupted from the booth behind Rachel.
A moment later, Genie appeared at the side of their booth. “Rachel, honey. I thought that was you. When did you get out of the hospital?”
Rachel jumped up from her seat and was immediately enveloped in a hug. “Hospital?”
“I hope you got rid of that nasty rash. It really was quite disgusting, you know.”
“Rash?”
Genie smiled at Lenny. “Oh, I’m sorry. Who’s your friend?”
Ignoring her hint for an introduction, Rachel said, “He was just leaving, weren’t you, Lenny?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
Genie jumped into the breach, cutting him off. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Lenny. Toodle-loo,” she said, curling her fingers in a cutesy farewell, all the while smiling and staring expectantly at Lenny.
Lenny stood, looking at the two women with a confused look on his face, then turned to walk away, shaking his head. When he disappeared through the barroom door. Genie burst out laughing while Rachel moaned.
“Oh my god, Rachel. You had an interview with Jeffrey Dahmer. What the hell did that ad say?”
Rachel lifted her hands. “Oh, I give up. I guess I’ll have to resort to Russian roulette with a sperm bank.” Rachel downed the rest of her third Vodka Collins. “All I want are the chromosomes to produce a healthy, intelligent and mentally stable baby.”