Chapter 13
Megan relaxed only marginally as Jack lifted his hand off her mouth and eased his hold enough that she wasn’t crushed against the wall. “Do you know that girl out there? The blonde?” Megan said, figuring it couldn’t hurt.
He rolled his eyes and didn’t answer. Without a word, he pulled her back into the VIP room, his hand wrapped around her upper arm in a viselike grip as he propelled her across the floor.
“What’s back there? Where did she go?”
“None of your business.” He looked tough and scary in his black T-shirt and pants, the shadow of his beard dusting his jaw. In the low light of the VIP room, the snake on his tattoo seemed to pulse and writhe as his fist clenched and unclenched in frustration.
“I wasnct doing anything—”
“I’ve been watching you for the last hour. It’s time for you to go.”
She tried to yank her arm from his grip, noticing the way the people in the VIP room looked up to watch as Jack marched her to the door. With every step, her heels threatened to buckle. “You don’t have to manhandle me,” she spat as he shoved her toward the door.
“Yeah, I do, because apparently you can’t take a hint. You’re not welcome around here. And the next time you show up and harass customers with your questions about dead girls, I’m not going to be so nice.”
“You call this nice?” she said as he dragged her out to the main part of the floor.
“I didn’t break anything, did I?”
“Get your hands off her, asshole.”
Megan jumped at the masculine roar behind her. Her stomach did a little flip when she recognized Cole.
Jack released her arm, and the two men squared off like heavyweight fighters circling the ring. “She with you?”
“Yeah,” Cole said, and slid a proprietary arm around Megan’s waist. Heat surged through her, arousal mixing with adrenaline, making her legs tremble so hard she had to lean against Cole for support.
“You should keep a better eye on her. She has a bad habit of turning up in places she shouldn’t.”
Cole’s eyes narrowed and his lips stretched into a smile that looked more like a snarl. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jack stepped back and she saw him nod to someone behind her. Megan turned and caught a glimpse of Talia Vega before she melted into the dark periphery of the club.
“Get her out of here,” Jack said to Cole, though his cold, hard stare was locked on Megan. “And if you want to keep her safe, don’t let her come back.”
Megan shrank against Cole under the blast of that icy blue glare and didn’t protest as he tightened his arm around her waist and steered her to the staircase.
She braced herself for him to lay into her, blast her for dressing like a slut and risking pissing people off by showing up where she wasn’t welcome and shoving Bianca’s picture in everyone’s faces. But Cole was grimly silent as he guided her down the stairs, other than a harsh “Careful” when she staggered on her heel and would have taken a header down the metal stairs had he not grabbed hold of her elbow.
As they reached the teeming mass on the first floor, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She whirled on him, figuring the best defense was a good offense. “Why are you following me?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Because like the guy said, you seem to have a knack for getting yourself into trouble lately.”
“It’s not your job to keep me out of trouble, Cole.”
He flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Since I’ve been suspended for leaking Bianca’s identity before Tasso released it, I have a lot of free time.”
Megan felt a stab of guilt. He must have been going crazy, not being able to work the case and, worse, knowing his career hung in the balance because of her recklessness. “I know it doesn’t help, but I’m really sorry. You know I didn’t mean to mess anything up for you this time.”
“Yeah, we’re all sorry about a lot of things,” he said as he steered her to an empty table near the end of the bar. Megan hung her purse on the back of the chair he pulled out and took a seat. “Now, how about you tell me what the hell you thought you’d accomplish by coming here.”
Megan darted a nervous glance around the club. “Shouldn’t we go? Jack was pretty adamant….”
Cole shrugged his broad shoulders, unconcerned. “I’m not worried about him.”
He flagged down a waitress and ordered a round of drinks, a single malt for himself and an extra-dirty vodka martini for her, extra olives.
Megan tried to tell herself there was no significance in the fact he remembered her favorite cocktail.
“How do you know that guy?” Cole said, an edge creeping into his voice.
“I met him here last week, right after Bianca was murdered. I came here to find out if they knew anything. If there was any way…” She trailed off, shaking her head.
“If you didn’t find out anything then, why come back tonight?”
Megan shifted in her chair, grateful when the waitress appeared with the drinks. It took two bracing gulps of icy vodka before she could bring herself to meet Cole’s dark cop stare. She leaned across the small lacquered table even though no one was likely to hear her over the music. “I found something in Bianca’s house.”
Cole’s hand smashed down on the table hard enough to make the ice in his glass jump. “Please tell me you told Tasso and Lieutenant Chin.”
“It really wasn’t much of anything, just a cocktail napkin—”
“For fuck’s sake, Megan! Breaking and entering? Removing items from a victim’s residence—”
Megan put a hand up in defense. “I didn’t remove anything, I swear! I was looking through some clothes in one of the closets and found a Club One cocktail napkin.” She held up the one that came with her drink for emphasis. “But I left it there, for you guys to find. And I left the picture of Bianca from the Web site too,” she said, as though it had just occurred to her.
“What Web site?” Cole asked, his voice grim.
“I think it might have been advertising an escort service,” Megan said, “but I uldn’t access it.” She ignored the pinch of guilt for not providing all of the details about the site and her suspicions about the blonde.
“And you didn’t mention this when you were questioned because…”
Megan shrugged. “People tend to clam up once the police get involved, and even if they did talk, the cops aren’t looking for the answers I need.” She tilted her chin up, refusing to feel like a scolded teenager under his censure. “If Agent Tasso and the task force decide those are leads worth following, I haven’t done anything to stop them. Besides,” she said, heaviness settling over her shoulders as she took another drink, “no one here seems to know much of anything.” Or if they do, she thought as the blonde’s face flashed in her mind, they’re not inclined to talk about it. “But maybe Tasso and Chin will have more luck than I did.”
“No matter what, Megan, you’ve got to promise me you’ll stop doing this. If you’re not careful, you’re looking at an obstruction-of-justice charge.”
She looked at him across the table, his expression both frustrated and concerned. For her. When he looked at her like that, she wanted to promise him anything he asked.
“I need to go,” she said, jumping abruptly from her chair. Another sip of vodka and this night was going to end very, very badly.
His big hand clamped down on her arm. “Wait. Promise me you’ll stop.”
She shook her head. “I’m out of options, Cole. If I think there’s any way I can help Sean, I’m going to do it.”
“Then let me help you. I’m a detective. This is what I do.”
She smiled thinly. “Really? You’ll help me prove the innocence of a man you believe with every fiber of your being is guilty?”
His dark gaze didn’t waver. “I’ll help you find the truth, whatever it is.”
She wanted to believe him. She so badly wanted to have someone to help her through this.
Not just anyone, she admitted to herself. She wanted Cole. She wanted to be back in that place with him where she could trust, where she felt safe, protected, and though he’d never said it out loud, loved.
But there was no going back, and as much as she wished she could take him at his word, Cole was a cop, first, last, and always, suspension or not. He would help her only as much as it helped him protect his job.
“Promise me,” he prodded. “Promise you’ll call me before you go off chasing another crazy lead.”
“I’ll think about it.” She paused. “And if I do, will you promise to stop tailing me all over the place?”
His lips curved into a half smile as he rose from his chair. “I’ll think about it.”
He walked her to the front of the club, retrieved their coats from the coat check, and walked Megan to her car. She rummage through her purse for her key, flustered at the way he stood so close, blocking her in, keeping her safe, his gaze constantly scanning for danger that might come from any corner.
He snatched the key from her hand, unlocked the door, and reached for the door handle. This brought his face level with hers, so close she could smell the sandalwood scent of his aftershave, the smoky aroma of scotch on the breath that wafted across her cheek. He paused there for several seconds, and she could feel the coiled tension emanating from his body.
A quarter turn and her lips would be on his…
The door latch clicked, and the door swung open. Megan slid into the driver’s seat. “Drive safe,” Cole said, and closed the door.
Megan wasn’t surprised to see Cole’s headlights tailing her home or to see his Jeep pull up behind her. She shook her head as she got out of the car. Even if she’d been suspicious of him following her, she would have been looking for an unmarked Crown Vic. At least now she knew what to look for.
“You don’t have to come up with me,” she protested as Cole opened his door.
He gave her a hard look and held out his hand for her keys.
Megan handed them over, too tired to argue, and led him up the stairs. He unlocked her door, opened it, and ducked his head in for a quick look around before he moved out of the way.
Her chest went tight at the small gesture of chivalry. It had surprised her at first, that under his hard, almost gruff exterior lived a gentleman who opened doors for her, held her arm when they crossed a street, and never let her walk alone into a dark apartment. She hadn’t realized until that second how much she’d missed the feeling of having someone look after her.
“Well, good night,” she said hastily before her case of the warm fuzzies made her do something stupid.
“Hey,” he said, catching her by the shoulder before she could go inside. His hand rested there, in the curve where her neck and shoulder met. His thumb stroked along her collarbone as he looked at her with an expression of lust… but there was something else there too. Something she knew would send her right into his arms if she thought too hard about it. “You don’t have to do this on your own. But I can’t help you if you keep things from me.”
He bent his head, and she braced herself to push him away even as her lips tingled in anticipation of tasting his. But his lips landed on her forehead instead, warm and comforting and somehow even harder to resist than if he’d gone for all-out seduction.
“You stay safe,” he whispered, and jogged down the stairs before she could reply. She told herself she was glad he left, because she wasn’t sure she would have had it in her to push him out if he was determined to stay.
And yet, she couldn’t suppress a wistful sigh as she snapped on the light and waved to him from the front window. She felt the tug of regret as she watched his taillights disappear into the night and hopelessly wished that she could manipulate the time-space continuum and somehow go bato before any of this had ever happened. Push the reset button and get her life back on the path it was supposed to travel.
Love. Marriage. Kids.
With Cole.
Well, she’d been on that path, she thought. Bitterness chased away the wistfulness as she remembered how she’d been so sure she and Cole were meant for each other that she hadn’t even noticed that Cole wasn’t exactly on the same page.
She shook her head and scrubbed her eyes against the sting of tears. What was it her grandfather said? Wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.
Right. That about summed it up.
She sank to the couch, yanked off her toe-crunching heels, and grabbed her evening bag to retrieve her driver’s license and credit card to put back in her wallet before she forgot.
She grabbed the plastic, her phone, and the little stack of business cards she’d brought with her. She put the pile on the table, her heart rate picking up when she saw that one had something written on the back.
Please meet me tomorrow, 1pm, at the Hillside Motel, room 104. Please come alone.
Megan read the polite meeting request twice. It was from the blonde; it had to be. She must have slipped it into Megan’s purse.
Promise you’ll call me before you go off chasing another crazy lead.
She sat back, flicking the card with her thumbnail. Guilt stabbed her conscience, but she resisted the urge to call him. She’d made Cole no promises. And while he was full of reassurance, he hadn’t made any promises not to go straight to Tasso or Chin with any information she brought him.
Besides, she’d tell him everything she found out, providing there was anything worth telling.
Stephanie stared at the door and used the butt of her current cigarette to light the next one. She’d been in the room only half an hour and was almost halfway through the pack. The smoke seared her throat and stung her eyes, but she sucked it down, desperate for the nicotine’s calming effects.
It had been so long since she’d smoked; she was almost feeling high. That was one of the many rules. Clients could do whatever they wanted, but the girls couldn’t smoke. They weren’t allowed to be noticeably intoxicated or use drugs—unless the client insisted.
Some guys couldn’t get off unless they knew you were sharing the high.
They also had to keep themselves immaculately groomed from head to toe, and especially in between, and maintain their appearance in accordance to specifications, which varied from girl to girl.
She ran a shaky hand through her hair. First thing she was going to do after she left todrough thas to dye her hair dark, maybe get a weave until she could grow this shit out. Or shit, shave it off altogether. Anything but the platinum-blond, spiky pixie cut that had come to symbolize her role, her part, her character. The edgy, slightly exotic elfin girl who would do anything you wanted with a smile on her face, the one whose delicate, adolescent body let you indulge in fantasies of fucking your teenage daughter’s girlfriends. Or hell, your teenage daughter herself.
It wasn’t her job to judge. It was her job to follow the rules.
And she was about to break the number one, most important rule of all.
Don’t talk. About herself. About them. About what she did and who she did it with.
Because everyone knew what happened to the few who tried to get out before their time was up, the handful who threatened to tell, thinking that would be a ticket out.
It was a ticket out, all right, if you considered being stuffed in a body bag with a cut throat a good means of escape.
Her stomach twisted and she rose from the bed, telling herself she should get out of here before Megan showed up. Hadn’t Stephanie just received a friendly warning to keep her mouth shut just two nights ago?
He just said not to talk to the police. He didn’t say anything about not talking to anyone else.
Right. Try to argue that with your throat sliced.
She was taking an enormous risk, and for what? A bunch of dumb girls with stars in their eyes who knew what they were getting into from the beginning and should have damn well known whether or not they could handle it.
But Bianca… She had been her friend. She’d looked out for Stephanie from the start, taken her under her wing, taught her how to survive with some piece of her soul intact. Bianca was already three years into the business, while Stephanie was only six months into her contract, such as it was. Bianca had seen a lot more shit go down, had girls she knew disappear on her, victims of a fate they all suspected but no one wanted to say out loud.
She couldn’t blame Bianca for wanting to get out, for wishing she could reconnect with her family and start life over. Stephanie rubbed away the sting of tears. Bianca had known the risks, but she didn’t deserve what had happened to her. None of those girls did.
Risky or not, Stephanie couldn’t sit quietly by and let her friend’s killer get away with it. Besides, even if they were watching her, there was no way anyone could have seen her slip that card in Megan’s purse.
There was a knock at the door, and Stephanie stubbed her cigarette out and checked her watch. Megan wasn’t supposed to be here for another ten minutes. She went to the door, rising up on tiptoes to look through the peephole, but she couldn’t see anything. Fingers trembling, she flipped the security latch and cracked the door.
Her stomach flipped when she saw who it was. Shit. She was such an idiot, scheduling the meeting at the motel where she’d been crashingul int
“Let me in, Stephanie.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t have time to see you right now, but if you want to come back later—”
He shook his head. “You know that’s not what this is about. Now come on. Let me in. We need to talk before you do something stupid.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she protested. “Please don’t rat me out, please!”
“I’m not going to rat you out,” he said, with what looked like genuine concern on his face. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. Only a couple people know you’ve made contact, but I can help you fix this. Just let me in so we can talk about it, okay?”
Stephanie weighed her options. If they didn’t know what she was up to, there was still a chance she’d be okay. On the other hand, what would he want in return? He’d always treated her and the other girls pretty decently but…
Screw it. She’d fuck him for free for the rest of the century if it meant saving her from ending up facedown in a pool of her own blood. She flipped the safety latch and opened the door.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said as she turned away. “I’m just so freaked out and sad about Bianca. I felt like I should do something to try to stop it.”
“There’s nothing you can do,” he said. His voice was like an icy hand down her spine. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”
His huge arm wrapped around her neck, choking off her air supply. She struggled, clawing at the sleeves of his shirt. His gloved hand pressed into her right cheek with bruising force, while the fingers of the other dug into her skull.
“I wish I had time to do this right, to take my time. Feel you clench around my cock when I make the first slice.”
Oh God. His breath was coming hot and fast on the crown of her head. Tears stung her eyes, and she let out a choked whimper when she felt his erection bumping against her back.
Adrenaline coursed through her as she struggled with every fiber against his hold.
“Unfortunately, time is tight, and I have a message to send.”
A jerk of his hands. A sickening crack of bones and cartilage.
I’m sorry, Bianca.
Megan looked over both shoulders as she got off the bus. She’d managed to ditch Cole back at the coffee place, but she knew he’d get suspicious when she didn’t come out of the bathroom after a reasonable time. She hoped that taking the bus instead of her car would help throw him off too.
She looked around, saw no sign of him. So far, so good. She half walked, half jogged the two blocks to the motel where she’d beeinstructed to go, presumably by the blond woman from Club One.
At least, she hoped the message was from the blonde. Anxiety-induced adrenaline coursed through her veins. It wasn’t lost on her that she could be walking into a trap set by someone who didn’t want her sniffing around Bianca’s murder and whatever connection she had to Club One. She’d quadruple-guessed her decision to ditch Cole, but she was sure if she told him about the card, he would insist on doing the meeting himself. Megan knew she was taking a huge risk going to the meeting by herself, but she was desperate. Sean’s execution was only five days away, and she couldn’t risk scaring off the only person willing to talk to her.
If she’s even the one who set up the meeting.
Megan forced the thought aside. She couldn’t afford to panic now, not with so much at stake.
The Hillside Motel was a squat cinderblock building with rooms that opened to the parking lot. Not exactly a rent-by-the hour establishment, but a few rungs below even a Holiday Inn. Megan approached room 104 cautiously. She slipped her hand inside her pocket and felt the reassuring weight of her phone which had 911 dialed in. If anything went amiss, she told herself, she’d press the SEND button and call the police.
She tapped softly on the door. No answer. “Hello? Is anyone here? It’s me, Megan. From the club.” Still no answer, but the knob turned and the door swung open. She stepped inside and felt a tingling foreboding as her eyes struggled to adjust to the dim interior of the hotel room.
She barely took two steps into the room before her instincts started to scream, Run! There was something not right here; she could feel it in her blood….
Then she saw the body. Time seemed to stop, her vision tunneling in on the sight of the woman crumpled on the floor. Her dark eyes were wide, staring, her head at an impossible angle. There was a lump at the base, a bone stretching the delicate skin.
Blood roared in her head, and she wheeled around to the door as her hand fumbled for her phone.
Too late.
A hand caught her by the neck and jerked her back against a hard, muscular chest. Megan’s phone went flying as hard fingers dug into her throat, squeezing either side of her windpipe.
She tried to scream but all that came out was a sick, choking sound as she clawed at the arm digging into her chest. The sound of rending fabric pierced the air as the fingers dug harder into her throat.
Her heartbeat echoed in her head, the loud whooshing sound of her blood almost drowning out the sound of his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you, Megan,” the voice said. “I never want to hurt you. You need to leave this alone before it’s too late.”
Megan struggled to absorb his words, but her vision was dimming by the second, her struggles weakening as she tried to escape his hold.
The door opened, crashing into the wall.
Megan fell to her knees, gasping as her attacker abruptly released his hold.
“I’m going to kill you, motherfucker!”
Cole!
The building seemed to shudder as Cole slammed her attacker against the wall and buried his fist in the man’s stomach. He doubled over, and Cole grabbed at the ski mask pulled over her attacker’s face.
She caught a metallic glint just as Cole jumped back with a grunt and grabbed at his side. Her assailant fled from the room, the soles of his sneakers slapping against the asphalt as he sprinted away.
She hurried to Cole’s side, the throbbing in her throat forgotten when she saw the crimson stain on Cole’s hand. A dark stain had already bloomed along his right side. “Oh my God,” she cried as she tugged his shirt from his waistband.
“It’s not that bad,” Cole said, brushing her hands away. “Forget about me. I need to call this in.”
Megan went to the bathroom and grabbed a stack of well-worn but clean-looking towels as she listened to Cole rattle off a series of codes and a description of the victim. She carefully avoided looking at the body on the floor as she returned to his side. Still, she couldn’t get the image of that grotesquely torqued neck, the staring eyes, the voice screaming this was Megan’s fault out of her head.
“Tell me about the woman.” Cole peeled up his shirt, and Megan’s blood drained to her feet at the sight of the bloody slice.
She swallowed hard and forced herself forward on wobbly legs, willing herself not to faint like she had when she’d seen the crime scene photos.
“Who was she?” Cole said.
Megan shook her head and tried not to think about the blood—Cole’s blood—staining the towel a dark crimson. Her words came out in a rush. “I talked to her last night at the club. I didn’t say anything before, but when I first went to the Web site where Bianca’s picture was posted, there was a flash of pictures on the screen. I’m pretty sure she was one of them. When I talked to her, she said she didn’t know anything about Bianca, but she slipped a card into my purse telling me to meet her here. She didn’t tell me her name, but if I had to guess, I’d bet she’s Bianca’s roommate, Stephanie.”
“Stephanie—no last name, no past, no future.” Cole sighed. “What the hell were you thinking, coming here by yourself? Did it occur to you for one second that you could have been walking into a trap?”
Her hands started to shake so hard she could barely hold the towel to the wound at Cole’s side. “Of course it did,” she said, blinking back tears. “I’m not an idiot. But she said come alone, and I didn’t want to risk spooking her.”
Cole winced at the pressure of her hand, and she whispered an apology. Blood stained the white cloth, and she closed her eyes against the stain as guilt welled inside her.
“I’m sor” she said again. “I didn’t want to drag you into this.”
“I told you I would help you,” Cole snapped. “You should have called me. We would have figured out a way for you to have the meeting without putting yourself in danger.”
“Oh, right. I’m sure you would have gone along with me and not called Tasso at the first opportunity.”
Her glare faded under the force of Cole’s dark, steady stare. “I told you I would help you, and I meant it.”
Megan felt a series of hairline fractures snake through the barrier she was so desperately maintaining between them. She was terrified to open herself up to him again, only to have him turn his back on her once more.
And yet, he’d already risked his career for her. And today he’d risked his life. Her stomach rolled as she felt the damp warmth of his blood soaking the towel. “There’s so much blood,” she whispered.
He put his hand over hers, hissing as he pressed it tighter against his side. “Trust me, I’ve had worse than this. Clean slice, no penetration.”
“I’m sorry you got hurt,” she said. Cole shook his head and pulled her to him. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to rest her cheek in the crook of his neck.
“I’m just really fucking glad I got here when I did,” he said in a shaky whisper.
Megan swallowed hard, wincing at the pain in her throat. “Me too.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. Megan lifted her head from Cole’s shoulder. Her gaze involuntarily went to the crumpled form on the floor, and it all hit her again with the force of truck.
It came back in a rush, details snapping into sharp focus. “He knows me,” Megan said, panic inching her voice up another octave. “He knows me. He said my name when he was choking me. He said my name.”