The Sin Room (Clean Version)

By K.B. Stevens

Note: This is the Clean Version.

Unspeakable Danger lurks when an aspiring high school model turns to stripping and gets drawn into the life of a wealthy man with a secret mistress and a psychotic wife. A deftly plotted mystery with an ending that will leave you sucker-punched!

Ever since Tina was a little girl she dreamed of becoming a rich and famous fashion model.And now, with high school graduation just around the corner, she was ready to pursue modeling full time.The only thing holding her back was getting enough money to put together a professional high-quality portfolio. When Tina decides to take her clothes off for money at the local gentleman's club she quickly finds herself ensnared in a volatile love triangle that leads to murder, kidnapping, and revenge.

Readers have called The Sin Room: "A finely crafted mystery with a climax and resolution twisted enough to satisfy the most discerning fans of the genre." and "A powerful drama with unabashedly realistic motivations."

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.B. Stevens
• Release date: May 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311908964

K.B. Stevens

I studied Video/Film at The University of Maryland Baltimore County. Have travelled all over the world to strange places like: Iceland, Turkey, Africa, Bahamas, Mexico, Denmark, Belgium, Japan, France, America, etc. I love anything that involves the outdoors including: scuba diving, water skiing, hiking, biking, kayaking, ice-skating, snow skiing, shooting, sailing, etc. I love movies and reading, and believe that reading/writing screenplays combines the best of both mediums. Lately I have been branching out into other genres of writing like: non-fiction and erotica. I really enjoy putting a story together and hope you will enjoy reading some (all) of my books.

Book preview

Part One:

CRIME

The truth is rarely pure

and never simple

—

Oscar Wilde

Take Off Your Top

Tina stood timidly in Fat Jojo's office, like a baby deer in front of a hungry lion. She heard the words he spoke, but wasn't sure if she possessed the emotional fortitude to go through with her plans. It's one thing to decide, I'm going to take off my clothes for money, and quite another to actually do it. Tina was frozen; suddenly second guessing herself.

Fat Jojo recognizes the fear in her young eyes, If you don't want the job, sugar, I understand.

Tina didn't necessarily want the job, but the easy money it could provide was the foundation to following her dreams of becoming a model and helping her mother out of hard times.

Listen honey, either take off your top, or hit the bricks. If I wanted a statue in my office I would've gone down to the art museum, Fat Jojo says.

Tina digs deep, and uncovers more courage than she would have dared to imagine. Tina slowly wiggles out of her trench coat and sets it on the chair next to her. Carefully, she undoes the pearly buttons on her blouse and takes it off.

Now take off your bra, Fat Jojo says.

Tina unhooks the front clasp on her bra, slides the narrow straps off her shoulders and fearlessly lets her bra fall to the floor behind her.

Okay? she asks, standing before him topless.

Fat Jojo leers with delight at her nubile body, Give us a spin, sweet thing.

Tina slowly turns in a circle.

Wonderful, sugar! Simply wonderful!

You want to see me dance? Tina asks the sweaty black man, as goose bumps started to rise on her chilly skin.

Tina found it kind of odd that Fat Jojo was perspiring so much in the cool office. She also thought it was strange the way it was taking him so long to answer. Fat Jojo just sat there scratching his chin, staring at her boobs, and rubbing himself behind his desk in places that Tina was happy she couldn't see.

Finally he says, I'd love a private dance but it'll have to wait, sugar, cuz I got a club to run. It don't matter how you dance anyhow, with that body of yours the customers are guaranteed to fall in love with you. Put your clothes back on and have a seat.

As Tina gets dressed, she ask Jojo, How much am I gonna make?

Fat Jojo throws up his hands, which Tina thought was a good thing because at least she knew they weren't down his pants anymore, and says in a booming voice, Slow down, honey! First you have to know the rules. When you're on stage you can touch the customers, but they can't touch you. When you're off stage you can sit in their lap, kiss'em on the cheek, but nothing more. First time I see you with a customer's hand down your little panties is the last day you work for me. Got it?

Tina shrugs. Yeah, sure.

Of course I'm not a customer; so those rules don't apply between me and you, baby girl, Fat Jojo says in a creepy way that made Tina's skin crawl. Did you bring me some I.D.?

Tina takes her wallet out of her purse. She opens it and pulls out a fake Delaware driver's license, as she does, the contents of her wallet fall out all over Fat Jojo's desk. Credit cards, photo-booth pictures, a high school lunch card, and Tina's Colorado driver's license all land in a jumble.

Tina's hands shake as she hastily collects the things off his desk, hoping Fat Jojo wouldn't notice her real license in plain view. Fat Jojo picks up her Colorado license at the same time Tina was reaching for it. He studies it carefully, before waving it in the air.

In a stern voice, he says, You have to be twenty-one to work here...on account of our liquor license!

Fat Jojo stands, and walks out from behind his desk, taking the fake I.D. with him. Tina bites her bottom lip, feeling clumsy and stupid that she let herself get busted.

Fat Jojo gives Tina a knowing wink, I'll be right back; I'm gonna burn off a copy.

Tina breathes a sigh of relief as he waddles out the door.

*****

Tom and Angela relax on thick blue beach towels, taking a peaceful nap under a large yellow umbrella in their bathing suits. Angela's six year old son Kevin breaks away from his waterfront sandcastle and fills a pail full of frigid ocean water. He hurries back up the beach, trying his best not to spill too much of the sloshing liquid. Kevin sneaks up silently to the umbrella and drenches Tom and Angela with the icy water. They spring from their soggy towels and playfully chase him down the beach.

Tom loved being in Ocean City with Angela and Kevin. Something about the smell of salt in the air, the breeze on his face, sand between his toes, and the rhythmically calming sound of crashing waves was deeply cathartic, and brought him peace.

Part of Tom wanted to rip up his return ticket and never look back. But another side of him desperately craved Helen's hostility and resentment to fuel his emotional self-flagellation over mistakes he made in the past.

*****

After Kevin finished feeding the entire population of Ocean City seagulls their fill of stale bread, he rode some rides with Tom and his mom at the Jolly Roger amusement park on the pier. They went on the Slingshot, the Tornado, the Hurricane, the bumper cars, the Ferris wheel, the double decker Venetian Carousel, and blasted metal sitting ducks at the shooting gallery, but his favorite part was the Morbid Manor, because Kevin loved anything that had to do with ghost and haunted houses. When the trio had ridden enough rides to make an astronaut dizzy, they left with their cotton candy, and Tom and Angela dropped off Kevin at an old fashioned quarter game arcade.

Angela points to a long wooden bench facing the ocean, across from the arcade, and tells Kevin, Tom and I are gonna be right over there. Don't go anywhere without us.

Okay, mom.

Tom and Angela cross the cracked and weathered wood of the boardwalk and sit on the bench with their bodies entwined together like long lost lovers.

Teenagers on rollerblades, couples on cruiser bicycles, and families sharing saltwater taffy and Thrashers famous french fries with vinegar, wander up and down the boardwalk soaking up the sunshine.

If she's manipulating you-

Tom shakes his head, Maybe it's me.

You owe it to yourself; she's probably just as miserable as you are, Angela says.

I didn't say I was miser-

Angela cuts him off, I can see it in your tortured eyes, and read it on your handsome face.

What kind of person would I be to desert her?

"The kind of person who has the right to be happy, the kind of person who takes control of his life, the kind of person who sees that it's not desertion; it's a divorce."

Angela pulls Tom closer so they're nose to nose, and gives him a quick kiss. Don't you see, Tom? She's let the accident change her. She's not the woman you used to love.

Tom looks to the sky in frustration. It's easy for us to sit here and judge, but let's say it was you confined to thatwheelchair. Don't you think you'd be bitter and angry, especially if you didn't have Kevin?

I would have gone back to work instead of moping around that big house all day feeling sorry for myself. As for Kevin, if I couldn't have kids I would've adopted, Angela says.

Adopted? Tom asks, doubtfully.

That's right. I would've adopted.

Tom sighs, You always know exactly what to say. It's a little scary...like you've been reading my diary or something.

That's because I love you, Angela professes. You keep a diary?

"No. I'm not that, touchy-feely," Tom says.

She always maintained that Helen was manipulating him, but sometimes Tom felt like Angela was the one pulling his strings.

Tom separates himself from Angela, and gets up from the bench. Let's go get Kevin.

Angela takes his hand in hers and they traverse the splintering boardwalk together. They return to the arcade and find Kevin among the herd of kids feeding the machines quarters and losing their money faster than a little old lady in Vegas. Kevin is blasting mutant aliens like they're going out of style.

Hey sport, how you doing? Tom says.

I almost beat the high score, but the mother ship already landed, Kevin says.

Tom feigns understanding. Right, of course.

Kevin's star fighter gets zapped, and he loses the game. He punches his initials into the high score list, and looks up at Tom. "I wish I had your last name. That way I'd be K.I.C.; it sounds like kick; as in kick-butt Instead of K.I.M., Kim which sounds gay cuz it's a girl's name."

Angela scolds him, Kevin, don't talk like that! Mason was your grandpa's last name.

Sorry mom...my initials suck.

Me and you are going to have a long talk when we get home, you hear me, young man?

Tom tries to change the subject, he asks Kevin, You hungry? I'm craving pizza.

Kevin jumps up and down like a kangaroo on crack. Yeah, pizza, pizza, pizza!

*****

Josie sings to herself in Spanish as she does the dishes by hand. Helen checks her wristwatch then quietly wheels up behind her.

That'll be all for today, Helen says in a loud voice that catches Josie off guard.

Dios Mio! I didn't know you were there.

Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you, Helen says sheepishly.

That's ok Mrs. Collins; I'm just finishing up the dishes.

Leave it, Helen says.

Helen was almost certain that Tom hired Josie for the singular purpose of spying on her, and Helen wouldn't have been surprised if Tom was spreading Josie's thick Latin legs and giving it to her, like Arnold Schwarzenegger was poking his slutty maid. In any event, Helen wanted privacy for her upcoming meeting. And that meant Josie needed to go away.

Josie smiles, It's no trouble, señora; I'm almost done.

Get the hell out of here! Helen screams at Josie.

Diablo Loca! God save you!

Josie storms out of the kitchen with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Helen wheels into the hallway and heckles her, Dios no existe, estúpido! [God doesn't exist, stupid!]

*****

Helen chain smokes in the living room while talking to a shifty looking man jotting down notes on a spiral notepad.

Eight o'clock Friday night, Helen says.

You picking him up?

Helen looks at the man like he's a total retard. Can't he see that I'm in no condition to be driving, she thought to herself.

His best friend Mike is going to pick him up. You can't miss him; he's a big reggae-island looking black guy.

The man closes his notepad and stands to leave, I don't in any way doubt your suspicions, but have you considered the possibility that he's seeing someone in Maryland?

Helen can't help but get defensive, "When he's away, that's business. It's when he's here in Denver and claims to be, out with the boys, and I find him passed out on the couch the next morning smelling like dirty sex and dollar store perfume; that's when he's seeing her. My husband never learned not to crap in his own backyard."

Helen takes a long drag from her cigarette until it's burned down to the filter. Besides, the last time he was in Maryland she called here looking for him. That slut lives right here.

Helen signs a check and hands it to the man.

I'll get back to you as soon as I know something, the man says, as he rises from the couch and heads to the front door.

Helen's face droops in despair. I don't want to lose my husband, you understand? I want him to come clean, she says.

The man leaves and Helen slumps in her wheelchair crying.

*****

Tina doesn't initially see the narrow art gallery wedged between a pawn shop and a plumbing supply store even though she was standing across the street from its front door. She enters the empty gallery unnoticed, and examines the artwork hanging from the walls in elegant frames. Most of the works were large black and white photographs of nude women. They were tastefully executed, cleverly composed, and carefully lit.

Tina found the images fascinating and reminiscent of a photographer she studied in art history class who stirred up acontroversy over public funding and the definition of obscenity in art.

A tall thin woman dressed in black, with thigh-high patent leather boots, a bob haircut, sharply shaped eyebrows, and impossibly bright red lipstick approaches Tina from behind.

Her tone of voice is surly and belligerent, "And what do you think?"

Tina says, Reminds me of Mapplethorpe; sculpting light around the beauty of the human form.

Tina can tell from the change in the woman's demeanor, and the expression on her face that she struck a chord.

The woman says, He's one of my biggest influences.

So you're-

Maxine Trellas, she says extending a hand. But everybody calls me Max...at least my girlfriends do.

Tina shakes her hand, Tina Soffitte. I was hoping to meet you.

Oh right, you must be from the fan club, Maxine says, laughing at her own joke.

I heard you do modeling pictures.

Maxine shrugs. Everybody's gotta eat.

Maxine walks to the back of the gallery with Tina in tow.

I need pictures for my portfolio.

Who put it together for you? Maxine asks.

"Actually what I