Scary & Freaky stories: The Paranormal World

The Red Satin Pantyhose

Behold Robert Hollibraugh the third; a Louisiana Southern Baptist and a no-nonsense lawyer. He’s fifty-two, has a wife, Maddy – whom he married out of college and has adored ever since – and two near perfect children; Casey – in her senior year at Columbia, and Joel who just made all American at Georgia Tech while carrying a grade point average that would make any dad proud. On the surface, life is good. It all makes for a very pretty picture.

But like all great men of some means and stature, Mr. Robert Hollibraugh possesses a general weakness in his character – seemingly harmless – an indiscretion from the not so distant past, you might say, that is about to place him on the uncomfortable side of the law.

It was the evening of this past July 4th when Robert’s world began to unravel. A national holiday – day of rest – for most. But for Robert Hollibraugh, it’s just another quiet evening at home with Maddy and the kids. Oh, and Judge Harper – kindly Uncle Amos to Casey and Joel, whose also bringing his wife, June to play a few rounds of gin rummy while he and Robert discuss the latest case Bob’s just won.

The defendant, Alejandro Mordega was accused by an overzealous prosecution of a string of homicides involving under aged prostitutes in New Orleans. But in his own research on the case, Robert quietly discovered that the latest of the dead hookers, Joleen Smothers was also sweating up the sheets with a Samoan drug dealer named Da-vide Ukoko, whom she may or may not have been able to pay off in time to spare herself a toe tag at the county morgue.

Perhaps even Da-vide wasn’t to blame. Joleen’s mutilated remains showed signs of rape and torture. Maybe Da-vide’s competition was just sending him a message for moving into their neighborhood. Either way, Alejandro Mordega was nowhere near the train yards on the night Joleen’s body was discovered. At least so Robert’s investigation had stated, and the unflappable testimony of another working girl on the witness stand, Freesia Malente, who had been most convincing to the jury. After the trial Freesia had showed Robert a thing or two about gratitude on her own terms.

Now, to some of you more puritan folk, still suckling your middle class morality, this might seem a gross miscarriage of marital injustice. After all, Maddy Hollibraugh has been an exemplary wife who’s made Robert’s world run like clockwork. Therefore, at the very least, badinage with a hooker seems in very bad taste. But for Robert – especially after nearly three weeks of testimony and staring at pictures of severely mutilated and badly decomposed prostitutes splayed in the most horrendous positions, staring at one as supple, firm and alive as Freesia Malente was just like bringing a pot of coffee to a boil. Blowing off some steam and residual stress left over from the trial was necessary before Robert could go home and be civil to Maddy.

Maddy…what a treasure he had found in her; a flaxen haired, doll faced kitten with a mind and body that had aged as gracefully as her temperament. She truly cared for him and he most certainly still cared for her. And anyway, it was over now. Freesia was a distant memory as Robert stood before the full length mirror in their bedroom, straightening his tie.

“I can’t wait to see what June’s done with her hair,” said Maddy from the powder room.

For months she had been reading the fashion magazines about this new colour – ‘Autumn Sunrise’. But tonight, it would make its debut atop June’s clever head.

“Oh?” said Robert playfully, “Where’s she been dipping it this time?”

“Don’t be vulgar, dear,” Maddy replied, coming to her husband’s aid with a wink and a smile, “Not that you ever could.”

Little did she know.

Robert observed as her nimble fingers effortlessly worked through the difficult knot to produce a very tight crease.