Cool Specs (Part 3)

Valentina Buscar was a talented model in her former glory. She started Las Escondidas Fitness Club in the mid-eighties, sometimes referred to as the ‘Hide & Seek’ club, catering models for TV ads and magazine covers like she did. They added gigs and a small group of boys and girls performed in many hotels and arenas in the city for entertainment purpose. They toured in two second-hand Beauville Chevy vans and delivered two to four shows a day.

From day one Ibañez fully committed to club activities with an efficiency to pick faxes and maintain bookings. Day began with the band making noises, the bass and beat of programmed tejano music, ‘Baila Esta Cumbia…’

“What have you got?” asked Valentina.

“A request from a TV station…”

“Jose is here.” A van rolled to the small parking lot behind the house. “Let’s go for the photo shoot. We are late.”

Jose Quintana, formerly a cameramen, she was acquainted with during her modelling days. Now with a studio he worked as a professional photographer and she hired his services on several occasions.

Soon the vehicles rolled out of the lane. Ibañez usually climbed next to Valentina in the Mustang. Out on the roads in the suburbs of Garza Garcia she felt the calmness, a light breeze, the pine trees and the silence in a wall of mountains. It was amazingly beautiful.

They arrived at the private boutique inn of Villa Blanca that Valentina booked for the photo shoot. A selected group of girls posed for pictures in the hotel room, in bed, in bath, up on the rooftop terrace and in the lawn. They changed to different clothes and sets of bikinis. Members of the club helped with mirrors and lights.

Two cameras kept rolling. “Where do you find these girls?” Jose praised, “Iban is gorgeous. She’s got a perfect figure and photogenic in every angle. Absolutely stunning…you’ve got a hit.”

“Thank you for that,” returned Valentina still clicking pictures one by one, “I have the most unlikely contacts you can imagine. One is you. Give me the best you have to make my website a hit.”

“She’s got a cute smile. How old is she?”

“Iban is twenty-four.”

“First I thought she looked older…”

“With the glasses on she looks older. Without them she looks younger. That’s why I’m going to put her age like nineteen.”

“You are a genius!” cried Quintana, “I can see how viewers will get attracted to her figure of that age.”

They ran out of time. The session was over by sunset. “Alright folks, pack up. We’ll have an outdoor session, a street walk, next time.” concluded Valentina. By then she covered hundreds of snaps quite enough to upload to the website escondis.com and launch.

 

Two weeks later, Las Escondidas appeared on a local television channel. Valentina Buscar was a celebrity model still appearing on television time and again.

Filipe Escala was quick to recognise the face of Ibañez Trevizo among the performers. He sat back in his sofa at home watching the girls bring about silly acts, babbling and dances. The group launched their modelling website live on TV. Finally, Valentina’s usual burlesque on television shows of that she was admired and of her incredible beauty. She removed her clothes piece by piece, posing for cameras in every angle, in her micro bikini and eventually naked in a soap bath tub.

Escala took a look at the website escondis.com and signed in as a premium member with his credit card. He saw the images of Ibañez using a fake alias as Chloe Chase posing in such provoking manner.

For his little pleasures he did not disclose this discovery of her presence to Dr Mireles.

 

It rained and clouds darted across the sky. Dr Mireles entered his clinic and began to dance ridiculing himself like a mad old man. “I have a cocky feeling the spirits are out tonight. I’ll show you what I can do with my Bunsen burner, idiot.”

He lit the burner and placed the tripod with a metal plate on it. He left the chain of beads neatly with the crystal skull in an upright position on the plate. He cried, “Rolando Garcia, I’m coming to kill you…”

He chanted, “Vivir la vida hasta la muerte. Viva la vida loca…estoy llegando…” he heard knocks on the door on top of his voice. He stopped his gaze at the tiny skull in a bluish glow, “a matar…”

Roslyn Dolores knocked on the gate standing in the rain. The placard read ‘Dr Juan Carlos Silva Mireles’. She was just about to turn away when the door opened and the doctor spooked at the smiling woman.

“Roslyn?” he cried, “Come in. You are soaked. I wasn’t expecting anyone. We’re closed on Sunday. Sorry. What brought you here?”

“I have a rash…” her voice reached out from deep throat in a masculine whisper.

“What? Sour throat?”

“A rash…I think I caught some pest in the park. It started after bathe.”

“Come,” he helped her to the clinic bed. “Let me take a look.” Her dress rolled down on shoulders and he examined those reddish marks on her back and under the neck, “Do you still live alone with your kids?”

Roslyn nodded. She was a shy person, a single mother with two kids who lived blocks away on Octavio Paz in this neighbourhood of San Jerónimo.

“How old are you?”

She replied, “Thirty-seven.”

“Did you tell anyone about the rash?”

“No,” she said.

“Does anyone know you came here?”

“No.”

“Did you change your dress?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Please, remove them off, everything…”

“Do I have to?” she hesitated still holding a shy smile.

“Yes, it is essential.”

Like the doctor urged she removed her clothes and he placed her in bed. He said, “You’re very clean. Do you always shave?”

“Sometimes…”

“Sometimes you let hair grow?” he teased. “You look astonishingly good, Roslyn, as for a mother of two kids to give birth in short time. Well, lie down. Lie down. I will give you an antidote injection.”

Dr Mireles stole a stare at the glowing skull. In the minute it sting he chose to pick his glass vial with a handwritten label on an attached medical tape. It read ‘Erotica’. He filled the syringe with a huge dose of the same balance he tried on Ibañez many weeks ago. He tapped the syringe and directed the portion on her.

In the hour that elapsed he witnessed a naked woman undergoing extreme levels of sexual excitement and in manipulation with free hands. She continued until she dropped off exhausted, shock waves of muscle contraction shook her body.

An hour later, he glanced at his watch. It was eight-thirty in the evening of 16^th August. He turned off the burner and removed the skull. Next he walked into the kitchen and cooked food. He ate reading his great-grandfather’s notes that told about the crystal skull and how it could dominate a woman against her will. It was of habit he kept reading these scriptures. He tried those methods and successfully; a spirit enclaves a woman’s body to bring her to the doorstep. La aparición.

Two hours later, Dr Mireles observed the naked woman lying in the clinic bed. He checked her pulse. She was gone…dead. He did something beyond imagination that would turn light on afterwards.

Dr Mireles called Filipe Escala, “I have crossed the line. I’m in trouble. I need a hand in disposal.”

“Again!” exclaimed Escala.

“Don’t park outside my gate.”

The clock ticked on. In the rain someone in a dark raincoat entered the clinic. A police car arrived at a house further down Octavio Paz. Half an hour later, a wagon car rolled out of the garage next to the clinic.

 

The website became an instant hit. In a month this site acquired members and premium members all over the world. The site allowed fifteen snaps of each set for free viewing and hundreds of stimulating model photos for paid members. The hottest model turned out to be Chloe Chase, nineteen years; nick for Ibañez. They added more photos and short videos. They exchanged ideas on adding a site forum and chat, including going hardcore that Valentina objected.

Valentina was auditioning a bunch of new girls for models after she placed an ad. Each girl interviewed, stripped, checked and photographed. She was planning on a photo shoot tour to Cancun. “What have you got?” she asked as Ibañez opened the little office door.

“I have a booking for a Happy Hour.” Obviously those specs caught her image somewhat older.
                “Where is it?”

“A pub called Picadura, a two hour show in the afternoon on next Sunday, an outdoor event.”

“Take it. Send them our requirements.”

Sunday, the vehicles arrived at La Picadura, an amusement centre. Valentina, with Ibañez and four girls in the Mustang, parked the car opposite to the club.

Camila cried, “Look! That’s Telson Collectors, they collect scorpion venom.”

“Oh Crap!” cried Valentina, “I can’t park here. Those creepy things would crawl into my car.” And the girls laughed. She released the brakes and moved up towards Keramos and the wall of Vito glass factory.

The girls returned to take a closer look at the Telson showcase that displayed hundreds of scorpions and particularly those glass objects and pendants with scorpion inset, plausibly blown at Vito.

Valentina took pictures and the view around. The pavilion of La Picadura with all kinds of decors and balloons left open to Laureles where she was standing. Staff prepared snacks for the Happy Hour. Tables and chairs set under the broad pavilion. On the aisle by the swimming pool, out in the open, Las Escondidas were getting prepared to perform.

“Everything ties to a sting,” Ibañez said. As to her confession every wall and every door carried a sign of a scorpion.

Forty-five minutes later and sharp on time, they started their gig with the usual trio dance followed by clap dance and into more explicit dances and funny skits. Shortly after mid break they brought their main event of oil wrestling by the girls. Valentina acted as the anchor and the umpire. An important group of people appeared to witness the final session; the owner of La Picadura, Tony Facundo and his bodyguards.

Ibañez was shocked to see the man wearing the black jacket with the scorpion on its back. She became nervous knowing he was the man who was at the Gleco. She excused herself from joining in the dances and Valentina in shock saved the argument for another time.

In the final act, Valentina Buscar appeared fully naked holding a white towel for a screen. She danced tossing the towel, wrapping and unwrapping. There was no barrier behind and she was bear from the rear. Two other girls joined, also naked and with blue towels. They tossed the towels to one another trying to hold back an exposure…only just. Six more girls joined and did this titillating dance. Finally it ended with only one piece of towel.

Meanwhile, by the parked Mustang on Keramos Ibañez entered a booth and called her mother.

“Where are you?” cried her mother, “Two guys came looking for you. I think they’re cops. What did you do? They say you stole money…”

“Hold it, mama, I didn’t do anything, okay!” she told her, “What did you tell them?”

“I told them you’ve gone to Texas. They want to hear from you.”

“Fine, let me talk to mija.” She had a brief chat with her daughter.

Valentina collected the cash and rushed to her car. It was close to seven in the evening and sunset. She asked, “Are you alright, Iban? What happened?”

On the way home Ibañez told her about Tony Facundo’s appearance at Gleco Hospital and what she had undergone.

It was the first time Valentina actually heard or listened to this story from Ibañez and she gave some serious thought to dig into it. She found out that Tony Facundo, known as Scorpio, was the owner of Picadura and Telson Collectors too. She also learnt that he was a drug racketeer behind these firms.