He shut off the stun gun and wedged it into the gap between his seat and the door. Then he started the engine and backed out of the parking space. Nobody else came out of the restaurant, but it wouldn't matter if they did. There was no longer anything suspicious to see.

He drove away from the restaurant. He'd come back for her car tonight. Ken loved keyless entry, since it meant that all he had to do was click the button on her keychain and her car would beep and flash its headlights. No suspicious going from vehicle to vehicle, testing the locks.

A few blocks later, he pulled into the parking lot of a different restaurant. This one was closed and there were no other cars in the lot. He put the car into park, then patted Gertie's front pockets. No cell phone. Reaching under her ass, he found it. She probably had a passcode, but maybe he'd get lucky.

He got lucky.

He smiled as he scrolled through her text messages. Good to know she didn't think he was a sleazy weirdo.

* * *

Charlene picked up her phone as a text arrived from Gertie.

So....NOT on my way home. :)

Charlene frowned and typed: ???

Promise you won't think I'm a slut?

You're not going home with the producer, are you?

No! He's way too old. But our cute waiter isn't. :)

All right. Have fun. Make him wear a condom, you godless tramp.

Yes, Mom. I'll share all of the details tomorrow.

I don't want any of them.

K bye.

Charlene set her phone back on the coffee table. She didn't think it was such a great idea for Gertie to be going home with a guy she'd just met, but Charlene wasn't her mother or her babysitter, and she couldn't claim that all of her sexual encounters involved lengthy courtships. At least she'd be safer banging some waiter than the way she had been spending her nights.

* * *

Ken shut off Gertie's phone, then crouched down and bashed it against the pavement. Phones were extremely well made these days and it took a lot of pounding to be sure the phone wasn't salvageable. Then he tossed it into the restaurant's Dumpster. She'd probably be more upset over the loss of her phone than being kidnapped.

He got back in the car and drove across town.

No sirens. No flashing lights. No sign that anybody was following him.

He'd gotten away with it. Vivian would crap her pants if she knew the risks he'd taken, but he'd done it. Gertie was his. Poor girl. If only she'd been able to tell that his layers of clothing weren't his natural blubber, she wouldn't be unconscious in his car right now.