Inside Seka - The Platinum Princess of Porn by Seka, Kery Zukus Page A

with a boyfriend, or the morality police threw a brick through our window or something. I didn’t know what to expect and was nervous the entire ride down.
    When we arrived there was a detective standing outside. He said, “You may not want to go in right now.”
    I said, “I do. What’s going on?”
    Someone had murdered Woody.
    I changed my mind; I didn’t want to go in.
    It was a gunshot to the head at close range. The police said whoever it was just walked in, walked right up to him, and fired, execution-style.
    No sign of a struggle. No robbery.
    They told Ken to get Woody’s beautiful dog out because he wouldn’t let anyone near the body. Looking like he was in shock, Ken walked in zombie-like. I’d never seen him so visibly upset over anything before. He had been very friendly with Woody.
    We went home after talking to the cops. It was a crime scene and there was blood everywhere.
    The store was closed for days. While the store was closed, Ken had some guys do some carpentry work and move the counter to the other side of the store so it wouldn’t be right by the door when you walk in. We were that scared.
    I was freaked out. I had never been close to a crime, let alone a murder. About a week later, we reopened the store and I started shaking the minute I walked in. I refused to stay there alone.
    After that, Pops usually stayed with me in the store and I went and got a Doberman. She was a great dog named Tammy. Very protective. She was enormous and when she’d put her paws on my shoulder she’d be taller than me, and I’m no little girl to begin with. Ken added guns to the store as well. A .38, a .44, and even a .357 Magnum. I visualized the headlines: Female Adult Book Store Clerk Charged in Murder of Customer. I was scared of guns. And after the murder, I was scared to death, period.
    They never found out who murdered Woody. We were left to guess whether it was personal or against the store in general.
    Business got even slower. The cops came even more often because not only were they taking stuff off the shelves, they were questioning customers about the murder. And dirty bookstores are not the sort of place in which guys want to give their names and be interviewed. The police were killing us.

15. Porn Star
     
    The Vegas photo shoot I did appeared in some no-name, run-of-the-mill adult magazine and we were stocking it back in Virginia. Ken knew about it and didn’t care. It was selling like ice cream on a hot summer day even though we were doing nothing to promote it by telling people it was their very own cashier on the cover.
    We needed more product for the store and some more of that one magazine in particular, so I went back on the road with Ken to Baltimore.
    The head guy at the warehouse had an air of sophistication. He had been in the business for a while and seemed very approachable yet savvy. He always wore nice clothing and smelled of quality cologne. He looked at me and said, “See, I always said you should do this. We can’t keep that magazine of yours in the warehouse.”
    I kind of brushed it off. Not because I was embarrassed about it, but I didn’t know what to say. More than anything else, I think he was feeling out the situation to see how Ken would react. When Ken didn’t blow his stack, he followed with a nonchalant comment about a friend of his who was shooting loops that very day down the street. Suddenly he asked us both, “Would you be interested in doing one?”
    I don’t know why, but I wasn’t stunned or offended. I looked at Ken and he looked at me and I said, “What do you think?”
    “It doesn’t bother me, but I’d like to know what they’re paying.” That should have tipped me off about Ken.
    He said, “Two hundred,” and Ken said that wasn’t enough. The guy just kind of looked at him inquisitively and Ken said, “Four hundred.”
    “That’s not a problem. I’ll be right back.” Walking off to make a phone call, we kept shopping. It was that