Kill Shot (34 page)

Control the client. Control yourself
. She was nothing if she was not in control.

From the safety of her locked vehicle, she drew a deep breath, closed her eyes and expelled the air slowly. Her stomach caught as she thought of Nick.
Not a good thing.

She was always wary of new clients, but Nick elicited a different kind of emotion, something between fear and arousal. He was too young, too good-looking, way too buff. If he got out of hand he could easily overpower her.

The tattoo on his bicep was an Army Airborne insignia.
Tough enough!

He was outgoing and full of confidence, not her usual kind of client. But there was something else just below the surface. Something dangerous. She recalled his lips on her thigh and a warm flush suffused her.
Not a good thing.

Next week she’d bring Felix. Nick needed to learn his place.

And I need to remember mine.

Kris started the car and made the short trip home. She drove into the underground parking and took the elevator to her high-rise apartment.

Tinker was waiting to greet her. The Pembroke Welsh Corgi yipped happily and then licked her toes. The same toes that Nick had kissed.

She pushed the thought aside as she knelt and scruffled behind Tinker’s ear. “Hey Tinker. How’s my baby?” she crooned. She gave him another quick stroke as she rose and he eagerly fell into step.

Kris removed the envelope and hung her bag on a hook in the entry closet. She contemplated the wrinkled white packet for a moment. She suspected that Nick couldn’t afford her. That would solve her problem easily.
No pay, no play
. She shrugged and counted the hundreds before locking them in the wall safe at the back of the closet.

She skinned off the red spandex dress and draped it over her shoulder. Tinker followed close behind as she walked to the wide expanse of windows. Kris leaned her forehead against the cool glass and looked down on New York City.

Loneliness wrapped around her like a familiar shroud. She watched traffic snaking by in long strands like colored beads.

Tinker sat beside her, sprawling with his usual lack of grace. The soft tickle of his wet tongue arced around her ankle as he licked her affectionately. This sent Kris into a fit of laughter.

“I would change your name to Nick.” She squatted down to rub his ears. “Except that I love you.”

Straightening, she went to the desk to open her laptop and made a note of Nick’s name for the following Tuesday in her appointment book. She clicked on her contact file and typed in a few sentences about him, including a reminder to bring Felix. Kris smiled.
Felix will cool Nick’s passion
.

“If I can train him, he’ll probably be a regular because he really likes what I do to him.” She chuckled softly. “Judging by that big stack in his shorts.”

In her bedroom, Kris tossed the red dress on the bed and removed the ankle strap sandals. She unhooked her black lace bra and rinsed it with the thong in her bathroom sink.

“Everything in its place,” she said under her breath.

Kris had a strong aversion to clutter. She’d become mildly obsessive after her life had been derailed, unconsciously doing things in the same order. From the time she woke up until the time she closed her eyes, she was checking items off a mental list. It kept her life simple. It kept her safe. It kept her from having to think about that terrible time two years ago, when her life had been violently shaken up and she’d been the one controlled.

Controlling everything made her feel secure.

While water spewed into the spa tub, she ran a brush through her long hair, relaxing the muscles in her neck. She twisted it up with a clip.

Kris lit a candle and the scent of lavender permeated the air. Sliding into the tub, she started the jets. The swirling water felt like hands caressing her.

She thought of Nick.

With the slightest encouragement he would have been all over her. What if she’d let him touch her? Would he be tender? Would he be rough?

Kris opened her eyes. “Not going to happen,” she said aloud. “I’m keeping everything strictly professional.”

#

Wednesday, March 15
^th
, 2:25 AM

Why couldn’t she force her eyes to focus? Her head was splitting and she felt nauseous. Kris was lying on a bed, but
it wasn’t her bed. It didn’t smell right, some noxious odor she couldn’t place. A humming noise droned overhead like a ceiling fan. She didn’t have a ceiling fan. She was being crushed under a heavy weight.

His breath smelled sour but she couldn’t see his face. He was on top of her and his fingers were digging into her shoulders. There was something else...if she could just focus.

Something hard and cold was pressed between her breasts and then the band of her bra was loose. It was a knife. The cold blade grazed her skin as he cut her clothes off.

A jolt of panic ripped through her lethargy.

His hands were rough, a working man’s hands. He squeezed her breasts painfully but she couldn’t move her arms to push him away.

He must have slipped her a drug at the club, but she only drank soda. Alcohol made her forget her orders, a bad quality for a waitress.

His hands were on her thighs, prying them apart. A sharp pain as his fingers stabbed inside her.

Kris yelled out and sat up in bed. Her heart throbbed against her ribs like a kettle drum. A film of cold sweat coated her flesh and her breathing came in ragged spurts.

Not the dream again.

#

Wednesday, March 15
^th
, 7:45 AM

“Nick! Over here.”

Nick Price crossed the street to meet his partner in front of an upscale apartment building. A uniformed doorman held the door for them to enter.

“Dead is pretty much messed up, Dan.” Nick smiled with affection at the older man, admiring his unflagging sense of outrage with each crime they investigated. Dan had the enthusiasm of a rookie and years of experience to balance it out. He was the consummate Boy Scout.

The elevator doors yawned apart, silently inviting them to depart. Only two doors opened off the short hallway on the penthouse floor. They entered the one with the uniformed officer standing guard. Nick opened his jacket to reveal the gold shield clipped to his belt. The uniform stepped aside.

They stepped inside a glossy foyer that opened into a spacious ultra-modern room with soaring ceilings and a wall of glass at least two stories high. Everything was black or white with a smear of neon color splashed around. A baby grand piano dominated a dais with a group of black and white photographs arranged on the wall behind it.

Nick glanced around. He could almost see the parties this room was designed to host. “Nice digs. You could fit my whole apartment into this one room and have space left over. Where’s the body?”

“Back here.” Dan led him through a luxuriously appointed bedroom to a sauna off the bath and dressing room. He pulled on latex gloves and opened the sauna door.

“Trust the cool young Lieutenant to know about the kinky stuff.” Dan snorted at him. “Someone turned the temperature up all the way, smashed the timer and left this guy to cook.” He pointed to the damaged device.

Sweat beaded on Nick’s forehead. He noted the setting on the sauna. “This must be what hell feels like. Go ahead and turn it off. I doubt the techs can get clear prints with all this steam.” He stepped closer to the corpse as Dan carefully turned off the equipment with his gloved hand.

“Check out his neck. Is that what I think it is?” Dan asked. “It looks like a dog collar. This guy was into some strange stuff, man.”

Nick’s mouth suddenly went dry as his gaze settled on the leather strip around the victim’s neck. It was identical to the one on his nightstand.

#