CHAPTER 33
A woman watching television, splayed out on the king-size bed of room 325, propped herself up on her elbows and smiled warmly as I entered the room. She lay on top of the covers with the steel-gray satin sheath dress I’d bought at the Gap bunched up around her waist.
“Oh, good. You’re here,” she said, her accent unmistakably Boston. “I’ve been dying for a friggin’ smoke.”
“No time,” I said. I had stipulated no smoking until after her job was done, but I guess she’d forgotten.
She shrugged away my denial. “So what now?” she asked.
“Hang on,” I said.
I took out my phone, tried to slow my breathing, and texted Ruby next door. I worried Andrew might get aggressive before Ruby had a chance to get him to take a shower. If she didn’t text me back right away, the plan was for me to go barging in, fists at the ready. The act might cost Winnie her life, but there was no way I was going to sit in the room next door while a drunk from the neighborhood bar raped my wife.
Me to Ruby: What’s going on?
Ruby: He won’t take a shower.
I breathed a heavy sigh that the situation—at least for now—was under control.
Me: Tell him he gets nothing if he doesn’t.
Ruby: I did.
Me: Make him do it. You can do it. Text me back.
The woman on the bed asked me, “So? Are we ready?”
“Almost, Jenna,” I said. “Almost.”
Although I’d seen Jenna once before—just hours ago, when I let her into the hotel room—her resemblance to Ruby still struck me. Her legs and arms were long, waist narrow, hair the same length and color of my wife’s. Of course there were differences. Jenna’s face was a bit more angular and ragged, having lost some of its natural beauty from a combination of smoking, drinking, and a hard-living lifestyle.
Her ad in the Boston Phoenix read: Gorgeous girl next door Jenna redhead, all natural, including bush. Sensuous, kind, & patient. Photos online. Ask about my specials! I checked out the photos and confirmed that I had picked the right girl for the job.
Escorts don’t advertise fees for sex. That would be illegal, but I counted on convincing her that I wasn’t a cop. As it turned out, that “convincing” required my agreement to pay her four times her usual fee to “socialize.” The unplanned expense would drain our bank account to dangerously low levels, but I could offset that some by selling more equipment. Because of her grand payday, Jenna didn’t mind being sequestered for a couple hours in a hotel while Ruby and I searched out a suitable mark.
Jenna and I discussed my special needs when we spoke by phone. I told her that my wife and I were into kinky sex and role-playing games. I explained that it was our anniversary, and my wife wanted to play out a fantasy whereby she pretended to be an escort. She was going to seduce a man and bring him back to a hotel room, but she didn’t want to have sex with him. We wanted a real “pro” to do that for us, but we wanted to watch. I told her we had placed a hidden camera in the armoire at the foot of the bed. This was all true—a camera was hidden there—only Uretsky had set it up, not me. I’d found the camera when I went into room 324 to search for such recording devices, knowing Uretsky would need some way to verify Ruby had done the deed. It was early afternoon so the camera’s red record light wasn’t on. I figured Uretsky wasn’t expecting Ruby until sometime after dark. He had no need to waste battery life filming an empty room. I searched the entire hotel room but found only the one camera.
I came up with Plan B—a flash of inspiration—after I saw the hotel rooms had interior doors that opened up to the adjacent rooms. The doors were locked, of course, but could be unlocked if both parties wanted. I guess Jenna could have done our bait-and-switch routine by going through the hallway entrance while Andrew took his shower, but that presented an additional risk. The camera might pick up a slight change of light from the hallway that could arouse Uretsky’s suspicions. I would have risked it, but it was a moot point when I learned that room 325 was unoccupied. It didn’t stay unoccupied for long. I rented it for the night.
I met up with Jenna at the Holiday Inn shortly after my shopping stint at the Gap, and we did a walk-through of my plan. I unlocked the interior doors and showed her the camera stashed inside the armoire. I told her she could walk in front of the armoire, because the camera wouldn’t show her face, but on the bed, when she was having sex with a man I didn’t know who would be named Andrew, she had to keep her back to that piece of furniture at all times. If we saw her face in the recording, I explained, it would ruin the fantasy for us.
Did I feel horrible lying to Jenna?
Well, yes, I did. But I rationalized it, too.
Jenna was a sex worker, and we were paying her handsomely. Naturally, I was concerned about bringing anybody near Uretsky’s web, but not overly so, not to the point where I wouldn’t go through with it. “Keep your back to the camera, and everything will be just fine,” I kept telling Jenna.
I reminded myself that Jenna wasn’t our first choice. She was Plan B. Ruby had tried to seduce a man on her own—more than tried. She did everything in her power to save her mother, but her body simply wouldn’t allow it. Now Jenna had Winnie’s life in her hands, and she’d save it, too, as long as she kept her back to the camera.
My phone buzzed. I looked down to see a text from Ruby.
He’s in the shower.
I texted back: Okay. We’re ready. Make sure the lights are off.
I suspected Uretsky’s camera was optimized for low-light recording, but a dark room would provide more cover than a well-lit one.
“Okay,” I said to Jenna. “It’s time.”
Jenna got up from the bed and adjusted her dress. She looked at me with eyes a little teary.
“Are you okay?” I asked her. For a moment, I was completely distraught. What if she got cold feet?
She touched my face and smiled. “Of course I’m okay,” she said. “I’m looking forward to this.”
“What’s wrong, then?” I asked.
“It’s just that you’re so sweet to do all this for your wife,” she said. “My a*shole boyfriend won’t even buy me a flower.”