Chapter 6

Out of the envelope Smitty had handed her, Deanna pulled the keys for the green pickup truck and dropped them into her new purse. The driver’s license told her she was now Darlene Sanborne, formerly of Great Oak, Texas. Deanna giggled; Smitty had made her twenty one, instead of just twenty years of age.

“Oh boy; I can drink now?” Deanna asked the empty cubicle.

The three credit cards, a Discover, a Master Card, and a Visa were all in the name of Darlene. Deanna blinked twice; Smitty had made Darlene a graduate of the University of Louisiana at DeGarde with a bachelor’s in Business Administration and a Master’s Degree in Financing. Darlene Kelly Sanborne was now enrolled in Whittle College, in Broken Field, Kansas, working on her doctorate in Statistical Analysis.

“Damn. That blow job was worth it,” Deanna said, fishing her thong panties out of her bag and wiggling them up her hips. “Guess I’d let him stick it up my butt, I’d already be a doctor, huh?”

Dropping the duffel bag into the garbage can, Darlene made her way to the pickup truck. The trailer was hitched to the truck, loaded down with all of Amber’s and Christina’s things. Deanna had packed little; she’d learned that anything she attached any sentimental value to, D.J. or Little Frankie, or Barry or Paul would destroy it. So, other than some clothing, the trailer had little of Deanna’s things within the securely locked interior.

“Ready?” Amber asked, Hyundai idling.

“Yep; listen. Any calls from five oh one? Ignore them unless you know for sure who it is,” Darlene told her girlfriend. “Seven eight five will be me, okay?”

Leaning into the car window, Darlene gave Amber a kiss, then whispered what her new name was. Amber quietly repeated Darlene’s new name and Darlene nodded. With one more kiss, Darlene swung up into the pickup truck. She playfully flashed Amber her panties before closing the truck’s door.

While Amber and Darlene began the journey from Myndee, Arkansas to Broken Field, Kansas, Little Al angrily slammed the door from garage to kitchen. Timmy and Ralph admitted that they’d been keeping their eyes on Deanna Sopopano, just like Little Al said. Then, right after Beth left the backstage area, Deanna walked up to them and knocked both of them out.

Wally, the guy Little Al had stationed behind the bar confirmed that all of the dancers had left, all of them at once. Then a couple minutes later, two more girls left. But Deanna Sopopano never entered nor left through the back door of the bar.

Burt said he had seen Deanna enter the nightclub through the front door. But he never saw her, or any woman leave through the front door. But they had scoured the club from top to bottom and had seen no sign of the bitch. They’d found her bikini in the trash can in the men’s bathroom, but she’d not been anywhere inside of the building. Little Al had even made Wally climb up on the bar and move an acoustic ceiling tile aside and peer around in the area between ceiling and roof.

“‘Bout time you got here, Mr. Babanetti,” Joey Burrelli said, clicking on a lamp in Little Al’s living room.

Little Al saw his wife, his four daughters, and his beloved son, all duct-taped to their dining room chairs. The smell told Little Al that at least one of his children had soiled themselves.

“What is this, Joey?” Little Al asked, wondering if he could get to his nine millimeter before Joey Burrelli could react.

“Didn’t appreciate your little present,” Joey said, voice hard. “No sir, didn’t appreciate it at all.”

“And what present would that be?” Little Al asked, truly baffled. “I know nothing about…”

“Adding the Drano to the mix was true genius,” Joey said, his twenty two handgun making little more than a loud ‘pop’ as Joey put a bullet into Little Al’s kneecap.

Little Al screamed and fell to the floor. He grunted and thrashed in absolute agony; his grunts drowning out the muffled screams of his children and the sobs of his wife.

“I’m going have remember that one. The doctor says I’m going need all kind of skin grafts fix that up,” Joey said, hefting himself up from the couch.

Joey used his cane to limp to where Little Al lay. Little Al looked up, his dark eyes pleading with the insane arsonist.

“Joey, on my mother’s life, I had nothing…” Al whimpered then screamed as Joey put a bullet into his left shoulder.

The third, fourth and fifth bullets slammed into Little AL’s right hand, his right shoulder, then into Little Al’s cock. Then Joey put the sixth bullet into Little Al’s left foot.

“Aw, I’m all out of bullets,” Joey said to the six family members that sat, screaming, crying and begging into their duct tape muzzles.

Sally, Mrs. Babanetti actually had hope that somehow, they’d survive this hellish nightmare as the insane man slowly, painfully made his way to the front door of their home. Sally cried great racking sobs for her husband, the only man she had ever loved. Watching her husband, her great strong provider attempting to crawl to where his family sat, helpless tore at Sally’s heart. Sally’s hopes for survival were cut short and the sob caught in her throat as she saw the flash of light from just beyond their front door.

*..*..*..*..*..*..*..*..*

Doyle Brundette, the district attorney for Clarkston County breathed a sigh of relief when the Clarkston County medical examiner identified the bodies of Deanna Sopopano, D.J. Sopopano and Little Frankie Sopopano as well as three other Sopopano males in the charred shell that used to be 1710 Cottonwood Drive. The way the house had burned, collapsing in on itself and burning even more quickly when the fire department tried to put out the flames told Doyle that this had been the work of Joey Burrelli.

Doyle had to hand it to the man; he was a true professional. 1708 and 1712 Cottonwood Drive had only suffered some blistering from the heat of the fire. Neither house had been in any danger, even as 1710 Cottonwood Drive was a complete loss. Doyle also knew, there was no way to trace it back to Joey Burrelli. He would have left no trail.

Doyle almost danced when the remains of the entire Babanetti family had been identified from the charred remains of 203 Hasting’s Creek. There was now no one that could tie Doyle Brundette, identify Doyle as the one that had put a bullet into the head of Annette Strohm. He still felt a stirring in his chubby little cock as he envisioned the terrified dancer’s eyes, pleading with Doyle just before he placed the barrel of his official issue.38 handgun between her eyes.

Looking at the mail his executive assistant had put on his desk, Doyle casually read through the official letters and one request to speak at the local Chamber Of Commerce. Then Doyle gasped.

The envelope was unmarked. Janice had sliced the envelope open with her precise manner.

‘Annette Strohm’ was printed on a 3X5 card.

Doyle quickly fed card and envelope through the paper shredder.

The next day, Doyle briskly thumbed through the stack of mail. He stopped, feeling a little queasy when he found another envelope with no marking.

‘Annette Strohm’ was printed on the card.

Monday, Doyle found another envelope and again, ‘Annette Strohm’ printed on a 3X5 card. Tuesday brought another envelope and another card.

Wednesday and Thursday, there was nothing. Then on Friday, Doyle breathed a sigh of relief when there was no envelope, no card in that morning’s mail. Just before he eased his bulk out from behind his desk to leave for lunch, Captain John Meyers, a captain with the Arkansas State Police entered Doyle’s office, no smile on his craggy face.

“Brundette, care to shed some light on why I’ve been getting cards with the name ‘Annette Strohm’ on them? Then all of a sudden, I get a card today with your name on it?” Captain Meyers asked.

“I, uh, who? I, how would I know?” Doyle stammered, sweat beginning to form on his bloated face.

Doyle could see Janice Robertson, his Executive Assistant peering into the office. Looking at the satisfied smile on her face, Doyle had a sudden insight. He almost asked his EA what her maiden name might have been. Could she be a Strohm?

..*..*..*..*..*..*..

“Look Miss Dee! I riding! I riding!” Christina squealed, thrilled as the man led the Shetland pony around the corral.

“Whee!” Darlene laughed, clapping for the three year old child.

“Whee!” Amber laughed as Christina made the circuit.

“That was fun? You had fun?” Darlene asked as she helped Christina out of the animal’s saddle.

“Uh huh,” Christina enthused, giving Miss Dee a sloppy kiss.

“Let’s see,” Amber said and smeared a little more sunblock on the girl’s face.

The October weather was perfect as the two women and one girl walked around the carnival. There was no humidity and the temperature was a pleasant seventy degrees, even as the afternoon sun beat down on Broken Field, Kansas. Just over Amber’s shoulder, Darlene could see Finney Hall, the tallest building on Whittle College’s campus, the tallest building in Broken Field.

“What you want do now?” Darlene asked as they walked away from the stand selling corn dogs.

Darlene smirked as Amber demonstrated that she could swallow the corn dog down, could deep throat the deep fried treat. Amber giggled when Darlene delivered a light slap to Amber’s cute backside. Amber then sighed as Darlene gave her cheek a quick kiss.

“Merry go round!” Christina demanded, pointing with her gnawed corn dog at the carousel.

“You going ride the elephant?” Darlene asked as they approached the noisy contraption. “Or a horsie?”

Oh, I bet she’s going ride the swan,” Amber said as they joined the four or five parents and children already in line.

“Um,” Christina tried to decide as they slowly approached the stationary carousel.

“You, you ever miss Myndee?” Darlene asked as they handed the appropriate number of tickets to the young man operating the ride.

“You kidding? You have to be kidding,” Amber said, stepping onto the ride. “Darlene, I have you. How could I miss anything about back there?”

“Just asking,” Darlene smiled, stepping up.

“But, you hear about Doyle Brundette? The district attorney? The ADA says he’s going ask for the death penalty,” Amber asked as Darlene carried Christina toward a vacant animal.

“Here, here’s the lion,” Darlene said. “Big old mean lion. Roar!”

“Mommy you hold me,” Christina begged as Darlene put the child on the animal’s saddle.

“Kiddo, I love you,” Darlene thought as they began to slowly make their way around the circle. “Yeah, make Mommy hold you.”

As the music began to fade out and the carousel slowed, Darlene dug into her purse and dropped to one knee in front of Amber. Amber almost dropped Christina as she realized what was happening.

“Oh my God yes, yes Darlene,” Amber whispered.

**Author’s Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment.

I thank you most sincerely for reading my stories. I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that ‘Favorite’ my works, those that rate my words.

Carrie Hebert, the artist of the artwork in Deanna’s living room is introduced in the ‘Edge Of Breaking’ series in Lesbian Sex. Her art is introduced in ‘Painting Pearls’ in Lesbian Sex.

Jeannie Childress, the process server that slips the damning evidence of D.J’s infidelity onto Mary Lynn’s grocery cart is introduced in ‘Escaping Curtis Brown’ in the Transgender & Crossdressers category. Jeannie’s occupation as Process Server is revealed in ‘Evidently…’ in the Loving Wives category. To my chagrin, I failed to mention Jeanie’s history at the end of ‘Evidently…’

Mindy Cohen, D.J’s mistress is a minor character introduced in ‘Bryce In The Park’s Bathroom’ in Transgender & Crossdressers category. Her occupation as accountant with Childress, Couvillion & Cohen is mentioned in ‘Painting Pearls’ in the Lesbian Sex category.

The Blue Jay Diner and the harried waitress, Jacqueline Hebert make an appearance in ‘Bit Of A Bitch-Chaos’ in the BDSM category.

Kayleigh Ann Davis, Barry Sopopano’s sissy slut girlfriend is introduced in ‘Deflowering The Boy’ in the Transgender & Crossdressers category.

Doyle Brundette, the District Attorney is mentioned in “Am I?” in Lesbian Sex. His character, as well as his character’s temperament is furthered in ‘99.5 K.LRV, The Leader In Rock’ in the Anal category.

Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.