Denny picked up a game box: _Raped and Snuffed_. He nodded, smiled.
'Yeah,' he said. 'It is.'
4
Frieda Lindsborg sat down in the center chair in Women's Shoes while the clerk went back into the stockroom to see if they had the sandals she wanted in black. She unlaced and took off her tennis shoes, then leaned back, closed her eyes. She was tired. She'd been shopping nonstop, running around town since she'd gotten off work, and she'd been on her feet since three o'clock his morning, when her shift at the bakery started. After she bought these shoes, she was going to rent a couple videos, go home, stretch out on the couch, and just watch movies for the rest of the afternoon.
A hand touched her ankle, began pulling down her sock, and she instantly opened her eyes, jerking her foot back.
'I found the sandals in black,' the clerk said. 'I was just going to help you try them on.'
He was seated on a stool in front of her, an open shoe box containing the sandals on the floor next to him, and she immediately felt guilty for her little panic attack. She stretched her right foot out again, let him pull off the sock.
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'It's been a long day.'
'Nothing to be sorry about.' The clerk dropped the sock on the floor, lifted her foot, examined it. He turned it gently to the left, then to the right. One hand held on to the calf, while the other began to caress her sole.
'Very nice,' he said. 'Very nice.'
He still hadn't taken off her other sock, had not even taken one of the sandals out of the box. The attention he was paying to her foot seemed obsessive, and she felt more than a little uneasy as his finger lightly traced the outline of her toes, but . . . but there was something exciting about it, exciting and, well, sensual.
He placed the foot on his left knee, then picked up her other foot, carefully pulling off the sock, again rubbing and massaging the foot itself.
He looked up at her. 'Can I smell your feet?' he whispered.
She grimaced in disgust and tried to pull her feet back, but he held tight to her left calf and continued to stroke it lightly, delicately. He stood, still holding her foot, and pushed aside the stool.
He knelt in front of her.
She did not try to pull her foot away this time. As much as she hated to admit it, she liked the subservient position he held, liked the fact that he had to look up at her while she looked down at him. It seemed sexy, and she found herself wishing that she'd worn a skirt instead of pants.
He said nothing, but looked up at her, smiled, put his mouth around her big toe and began to suck.
Frieda closed her eyes, leaned her head back, tried to give him more of her foot. She'd never felt anything like this. The sensation was exquisite, and she arched her back, trying to keep herself from moaning.
He sucked each and every toe.
On both feet.
Finally, she opened her eyes. She glanced around. There were people talking behind the row of pumps in front of her, other people with shopping carts passing by the main aisle, but she and the clerk were alone by the chairs and no one had seen them.
The clerk smiled slyly at her. 'Would you like to try the sandals on now, ma'am?'
'Uh, no,' she said, still breathing heavily. 'That won't be necessary.'
She stood in her bare feet, patted down her hair, smoothed out her pants.
'I'll take two pair,' she said.
ELEVEN
1
Bill never would have expected it of himself, but he had become addicted to local politics. He went to all public meetings now -- planning commission, sanitary district, town council. He'd never realized before how uninvolved most people were with their government. Theoretically, local politics was the arena in which people had the greatest voice. Its participants were most responsive to individual concerns because their constituencies were so small. Yet people were more familiar with national politicians -- even national politicians from other parts of the country -- than they were with their own locally elected officeholders.
They might have more control over local politics than national politics, but they were also a lot less interested in it.
Until recently, he himself had been one of the uninvolved. He'd voted in every election, but his votes had been based on general perceptions rather than specific knowledge. He'd been of the if-it-ain't-broke-don't-fix-it school, and if he hadn't heard anything bad about a town council member or a county supervisor, he had assumed that they were doing a good job.
He no longer made such assumptions. If he had learned anything from attending these meetings, it was that decisions were constantly being made that negatively impacted people's lives but that most people never learned about.
Which was one of the reasons he'd become such a fanatic meeting attendee.
That and the fact that he found it all so fascinating.
The town council meeting didn't start until six, but he was in his usual seat next to Ben by five forty-five. The editor was the only person in the council chambers and was busily circling items on the agenda that he could later expand into separate stories for the paper. A half-eaten tuna sandwich lay in an open baggie on his lap.
'You might find this interesting,' Ben said, tapping a circled agenda item with his pen. 'Apparently, The Store is not just building the new park, it's going to be responsible for park maintenance. The town's going to let one of its maintenance people go.'
'Who?'
'Greg Lawrence.'
'Don't know him.'
Ben shook his head. 'I guess we'll find out for sure tonight, but word is that Store employees are going to be assigned to clean up the park, trim trees, water and mow the grass, whatever.'
Bill snorted. 'Taking jobs everywhere they go.'
'It's the American way.'
The meeting was called to order fifteen minutes later. As usual, the council chambers were less than half full. There was only Ben, himself, a handful of retired people and local gadflies, and assorted individuals with items pending before the council.
After the pledge, the prayer, and the other opening formalities, the meeting got underway with the park maintenance issue. The agenda item was read, seconded, and as it was considered 'old business,' there was no opportunity for public discussion. The council unanimously agreed to accept what Councilman Bill Reid referred to as 'The Store's gracious and generous offer' to provide all maintenance for the new park.
Greg Lawrence was laid off.
The mayor himself introduced the first item of 'new business,' the town's projected revenue shortfall for the next fiscal year. He read aloud a summary report from Juniper's financial manager stating that if the town's operating expenses remained at the current level, Juniper would run out of money before the fiscal year was half over.
'Obviously,' the mayor said, 'there's going to have to be some belt tightening. As we all know, the county is having financial problems of its own and has appropriated a large chunk of the property tax revenue that used to go to the towns.'
'That's _supposed_ to go to the towns,' Bill Reid said.
'Exactly,' the mayor agreed. 'And the result of this is that all we're really left with is our sales tax revenue. And with our tax base shifting, with our downtown businesses taking a hit because of Juniper's recent economic realignment, sales tax revenues are down considerably.'
The mayor cleared his throat. 'We also have a major unanticipated expense that we're going to have to encumber over to the next budget year. If you recall, as part of our incentive package to bring The Store to Juniper, we promised to ensure easy access for all vehicles entering The Store parking lot.
They initially wanted an extra lane, a turn lane, constructed on the eastbound side of the highway, and we compromised by restriping that section of road and promising to constuct the lane if it proved to be necessary.
