Toilet Gator – Chapter 51

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Cole stood outside Sharon and Gordon’s hotel room at the Trembley Suites and put his hear up against the door. For a few minutes, he heard nothing until finally…

“ERGH!”

“Shit,” Cole mumbled.

“UNGH! ARRGH!”

Cole backed away from the door. The sounds from inside the room intensified. “UGGGHHH!”

“Should’ve known it,” Cole said. “Like a couple of wild baboons.”

Cole walked down an aisle, feeling sorry for himself until much to his surprise, Sharon rounded a corner carrying a bottle of wine in an ice bucket. Her hair was wet and Cole stared as beads of water trickled down her neck into her bosom. It had been a long time since Cole had seen his lady love wearing nothing but a bathrobe and slippers.

“Cole?” Sharon asked.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “Hi.”

“Something wrong?” Cole said.

“There’s been another murder,” Cole said.

Sharon’s eyes widened. “Holy shit! The Toilet Killer struck again?”

“Yeah,” Cole said as he pointed at the room. “Hey, if you’re out here then what was…”

Sharon ignored the question and hustled towards her room. “Come on.”

“Can’t I just tell you out here?” Cole asked.

“Don’t be silly,” Sharon said. “Gordon will want to know too.”

Sharon popped a key card into the handle reader and the door unlocked. Cole followed Sharon into the room, nervous as to what he might find.

Sure enough, Cole quickly discovered he had good reason to be fearful. There on the ground was the most muscular, ripped, cut man but he had ever seen, pumping up and down.

“ERGH!” Gordon shouted. “ONE THOUSAND ONE….ONE THOUSAND TWO!”

“Gordo!” Sharon said. “Stop doing pushups. Cole has news.”

Gordon sprang to his feet, He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and patted himself down, wiping off his sweaty body. The giant looked at Cole. “Go on.”

It wasn’t that Cole wanted to stare at the massive python dangling between Gordon’s legs, but he couldn’t help it. A) it was like staring at a freak traffic accident and B) Cole became instantly riddled with sadness that it was much, much, much bigger than his or any other average human male’s.

“Could you?” Cole asked.

“What?” Gordon asked as he wiped the sweat from his big bald head. The other one. The one he thought with.

Cole pointed a finger downward.

“Oh,” Gordon said as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “What, you never saw one before?”

Cole cleared his throat. “I try not to make a habit of it.”

“Cole,” Sharon said. “What’s going on?”

Cole tried to blurt out some words but he was taken aback by Gordon’s amazing physique. The man was sporting perfect six-pack abs and a firm set of pecs.

“Jesus,” Cole said.

“Cole?” Sharon asked. “What happened?”

Cole snapped out of it. “Oh…right. Another murder. Roxy. An old stripper. Her real name’s Adelaide Hotchkiss.”

“A stripper?” Sharon asked.

“A stripper,” Gordon said. “An old teacher, a college student, a superstar. There’s no rhyme or reason to this killer’s pattern.”

“We’ve got two suspects at the station,” Cole said. “One’s some kid that was stuck in the trailer. You should have seen it the whole thing was knocked over but anyway…long story. He was babbling on and on about he he had also been on the scene of the Becker murder.”

“Holy shit,” Sharon said.

“Maybe some psycho that likes to stick around too long, admiring his handiwork,” Gordon said.

“Maybe,” Cole replied as he kept his eyes on Sharon, avoiding Gordon’s chiseled frame altogether. “But we also have Roxy’s son at the station. He showed up at his mother’s trailer, saying something about how he ‘tried to warn her.’”
“Warn her about what?” Sharon asked.

“He wouldn’t budge on that,” Cole said. “Thing is though, neither one of them knows they’re suspects yet. We’ve brought them both in on the idea that we’re just really concerned about their well-being but as soon as they wise up, the clock will start ticking on how long we’ll be able to hold them.”

“We’d better hustle,” Sharon said.

“Oh,” Cole said. “And about the victim’s son. He’s Buford Dufresne. The Mayor’s boy.”

“Damn it,” Sharon said. “Now that really complicates things.”

“You know it,” Cole said. “As soon as that horse’s ass catches wind we’ve got his boy…”

“He’ll waltz into the station with every crooked lawyer his used car money can buy,” Sharon said.

“Bingo,” Cole said.

Sharon set her bucket of ice and wine bottle down on a coffee table. “This will have to wait.”

She turned to Gordon. “Put on some pants, studmuffin. We’ve got worked to do.”

Sharon turned to Cole. “Thank you for coming all this way to tell us, Cole. You could have just called.”

“Yeah,” Cole said as he walked toward the door. “Well, you know me.”

“I do,” Sharon said.

Cole walked outside and headed for his cruiser. “Studmuffin? What the…”

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