An Appointment With Murder by Jennifer L. Jennings;John Simon Page B

dinner,” I said, as we pulled into the driveway.
    “Don’t forget, Dad’s coming home tonight,” Brian said through a mouthful of fries.
    “Oh shit, that’s right,” I said, giving Brian an apologetic look. He just laughed and jumped out of the car.
    I took a shower, did my hair, and slipped into my usual work attire, khaki slacks and a white t-shirt. I almost called and asked Gabby to reschedule the appointment, but then remembered I’d maxed out my credit cards on the shopping spree the day before. Bills had to be paid, so I had to work.
    Gabby’s client was just leaving as I walked into the office. She met me with a look of regret.
    “I know it’s your day off,” she said. “But this guy specifically requested you.”
    “Did you screen him?” I asked, looking down at the appointment book.
    “He said he was referred by one of your other clients, so I figured he was okay.”
    “Gabby, you can take him if you want. I know you could use the money. I’m just not in the mood to work today,” I said, massaging the back of my neck.
    “I would have, but he was adamant. He wants you.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “I wrote it down. Neal or something.”
    “Wonderful,” I muttered as I went to get the room ready.
    Half an hour later, as I was sitting at the front desk, I noticed a guy wearing faded jeans and a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up standing just outside the office. He checked himself out in the window as he came through the door.
    I got up and extended a hand as I stepped around the desk to greet him. He looked me up and down before taking my hand.
    “Nice to meet you,” he said, nodding as if in approval of me. “I’m Neal James.”
    “Hi, Neal. You told my associate you were referred to me?” I inquired, withdrawing my hand as quickly as possible without being obvious.
    “A buddy from work. Don’t know him very well. His name’s John.”
    Some people just give me the creeps from the start, and there was definitely something weird about this guy. Against my better judgment, I handed him the client intake form. I showed him around, then led him back to the massage room, handed him a towel, and asked him to take a quick rinse in the shower before we began the session.
    Five minutes later, I entered the room to find him lying face up on the table, buck naked.
    “I’m sorry, Neal,” I said, grabbing the sheet he’d left on the edge of the table and pulling it over, and tucking it in under, him. “It’s our policy to drape all of our clients.” I was struggling to remain cool and collected. The last thing I wanted to see was his genitalia staring me in the face. No thank you very much.
    “Oh, that’s not necessary, Sarah. I’m fine without the sheet. Won’t tell a soul,” he said, placing his index finger over his lips.
    “I don’t think you understand,” I said, striving to keep my response unemotional. “It’s our policy. I hope you’ll respect it.”
    “Aw. Okay, then,” he said dejectedly, and closed his eyes.
    Pouring the oil in my hands, I looked at the clock on the wall. I knew the next sixty minutes were going to pass very slowly. I clasped my hands under his ankles and pulled gently to align his body with the table. I asked him to take a few deep breaths. He seemed to relax, so I made my way to the front of the table, slid my oiled hands under his neck, and began to work the muscles.
    “Actually, Sarah, my neck is fine. There is, however, another area that needs attention,” he said, opening his eyes.
    As I stood back, he glanced down at his groin and my eyes followed to the huge tent in the middle of the table.
    “How charming,” I said, with surprising restraint.
    “Oh, yes it is. Is there something you can do about that? It’s a wild animal that needs to be tamed,” he said, clearly impressed with himself. When he reached around my waist and squeezed one of my butt cheeks, something inside me just snapped. A rage completely foreign to