Legal Heat (9 page)

“But you look amazing. Really, I shouldn’t be wearing it while I’m here on business.” She turned away and her shoulders slumped. “I’ll change and wait for her outside.”

“You will not.” Trixie patted her arm. “Let me fix you up and see what you think.”

After ten minutes of being subjected to Trixie’s tugging and pulling, Katy’s respect for her great, great grandmother had increased tenfold.

“Trixie, I can’t breathe. It’s way too tight.” Her breasts seemed to have doubled in size and now threatened to explode from the top of the corset. She stared in amazement at the cleavage she had only ever dreamed of having.

“Just pant. Short, quick breaths. Panting is good. Men love it. Makes them think you’re desperate for them. And, wow, babe, if your waist gets any smaller you might topple over.”

“If you tie it any tighter, I might pass out.”

“Men love that too. The old swooning at their feet routine. Gets them every time. Brings out the protective instinct and they go crazy.”

Katy laughed. “Sounds like you have a lot of experience.”

Trixie winked at her in the mirror and tied the ends of the corset ribbons into a bow. “I can modestly say I have sampled a moderate selection of the opposite sex.”

She ushered Katy out of the change room and then led her through the red door and into the club.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Katy gasped after each word as she struggled to walk, talk and breathe at the same time.

“I’ve got my eye on someone but he’s got some serious issues,” Trixie said, looking back over her shoulder. “Lost his wife a few years ago in a skiing accident and just plays by the night now in the back room.”

Before Katy could ask about the object of Trixie’s affections, she caught sight of Mark stalking toward them.

God, what a sight
.

His black leather trousers and tight, black T-shirt highlighted every muscle and plane on his sculptured body. Could he look any more breathtaking or…dangerous?

“Would you look at that,” Trixie whispered. “Someone has eyes only for you. Good thing my heart is already taken.”

“That’s some dress, Trixie.” Mark stopped in front of them and gave Trixie a wink.

Trixie giggled. “I like to keep my boys happy.”

“I’ve been waiting for you, sugar.” Mark’s gaze swept over Katy’s body, blazing a heated trail along her skin. When his eyes fixed on her breasts, Katy flushed, embarrassed at the volume Trixie had magically created.

“Very nice,” he rumbled.

Very nice?
Curtains were very nice. Hats were very nice. If she had to endure being tarted up to get into the club, albeit in very expensive and beautiful tart wear, he could at least think of a better adverb. She narrowed her eyes, but a subtle shake of Trixie’s head stopped her from letting him know exactly what she thought of “very nice”.

“I need to talk to Valerie, and apparently I wasn’t allowed into the club wearing a suit. Isn’t that right, Trixie?” She looked to Trixie for confirmation only to see Trixie’s departing back.

“I’ll tell Tony to give her a raise,” Mark murmured. His eyes, dark with desire, sent shivers dancing up her spine.

“Do you know when Valerie’s coming in?”

He caressed her cheek, scorching her skin with his touch.

“Not until very late, I hope.”

Katy’s throat tightened. “You promised to behave.”

He leaned down and whispered against her neck, “I promised nothing.”

Heart thundering against her ribs, she cupped his cheek with her hand and brushed her thumb over his prickly five o’clock shadow. The sharp, fresh scent of his cologne mixed with his familiar scent of sandalwood scent tingles through her veins. Boldly, she followed the line of his jaw to his ear and then traced gently along the shell. Anticipation ratcheted through her. How far would he let her go?

Mark hissed in a breath and covered her hand with his own, drawing it away. “You also must behave, Ms. Sinclair. You may look, but don’t touch.”

“You touched me. It’s only fair.”

“There’s nothing fair about you in that dress.”

He likes my dress.
Katy tried to suppress a smile.

“Well, look who is back.” Tony’s voice sliced through the heat sizzling between them.

They exchanged greetings. Like Mark, Tony made no effort to hide his blatant appraisal of her attire. He motioned to her dress with a wicked grin. “This is why I have a dress code. Much better than the suit. Much.”

“Did you want something or did you just come to ogle?” Mark narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to Katy.

“I can’t get Valerie on the phone,” Tony said, his brow creasing in a frown. “I’m worried. I talked to her earlier today and she said she was coming in. She’s never missed a shift. Can you drive by her place and make sure she’s okay? We’re already short-staffed tonight and I can’t spare anyone to go and check on her.”

Mark glanced over at Katy. “Do you want to come with me? If she’s there, you can get her to sign your statement.”

Katy nodded. If she didn’t get the statement signed by Monday, she would have a hard time convincing a judge to reduce Jimmy’s bail and he would be stuck in jail until his trial.

“I’ll have to change first.”

“I like you the way you are.” Mark slid his hand around her waist and pulled her toward him. “Delectable.”

He nuzzled her neck and fire leaped deep inside her. She barely registered Tony’s departure as she melted against Mark’s broad chest.

“What happened to look but don’t touch?” Her voice caught in her throat when Mark nipped her earlobe.

“That only applies to you,” he whispered. “I am totally unable to resist a beautiful lawyer in a corset.”

“Well, then I’d better take it off, or we’ll be heading down to the Law Society office for a friendly fireside chat in no time.” Katy tried to step away, but Mark held her firm.

“Mmm. Dress off. That would be better. Well worth the risk.”

Katy closed her eyes, struggling for calm as fire swept through her body incinerating everything in its path. Clenching her teeth, she took a deep breath and pushed him back. “Changing. Now. Do not follow me.”

She shuddered when he released her and then beat a hasty retreat to the change room. Either he was a master player and an expert manipulator, or they were one heck of a volatile combination.

And right now, she didn’t need any complications in her life.

To Katy’s surprise, it was very easy to break into an apartment, even on Vancouver’s busy Beach Avenue. When Valerie didn’t answer her buzzer, they waited until one of the tenants came home and followed him inside. Easier still, was their entry into Valerie’s apartment, assisted by the broken lock on the door.

Valerie wasn’t in the living area or the kitchen. They walked down a narrow hallway and into a very pink, very feminine bedroom. Fluffy toys filled the shelves along with photographs in decorative, heart-shaped frames. Lingerie and clothing covered the white wooden furniture and littered the pink plush carpet underfoot. A huge four-poster bed dominated the room.

An occupied bed.

Katy’s hand flew to her mouth as she struggled to process the sight in front of her.

Recognizable only by her short, black bob, Valerie lay curled in a fetal position in the midst of a pink froth of linen.

Hideously swollen. Horrendously disfigured.

Dead.

Katy gasped and buried her face in Mark’s chest. “Oh God. What happened to her?”

“I don’t know,” Mark said, his voice tight. “I’ll call nine-one-one and then I’ll call my friend, James. He’s a homicide cop.”

Katy remembered the man with the ice blue eyes from her last visit to the club. She wouldn’t want to be a criminal with James on her tail. Based on looks alone, she suspected he would be relentless in his pursuit of any wrongdoer—and merciless when he caught his prey.

Her thoughts of criminals led to thoughts of her client and she excused herself to call Jimmy. She stepped out into the hallway. Calling someone in prison was never an easy task, but she managed to get through and break the bad news.

If Jimmy was distraught, she couldn’t tell through the shouting and yelling on the other end of the phone.

“I told her not to touch them, but she obviously didn’t listen.” Jimmy swore and cursed Valerie for her stupidity and then his voice became urgent. “There should be a plastic bag with some pills in her bedroom. You need to get it before the police get there.”

Katy stiffened. “I can’t take anything from a crime scene.”

“What kind of lawyer are you?” Jimmy growled. “You’re supposed to protect me and keep me outta jail. It’s not a crime scene until the police get there. Go get the bag. Now.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” Katy whispered, worried Mark might overhear. But it was too late. Jimmy was gone.

James’s protective suit crinkled when he bent down to examine the body. He didn’t know Valerie well, but they had spoken at the club several times and he had bought her the occasional drink when Jimmy was late picking her up. Pretty girl. Such a waste.

The cloying smell of heavy perfume permeated his protective mask. He righted the spilled bottle on the night table beside the bed with a gloved hand.

“Bag.” Someone from the forensics squad placed an evidence bag in his outstretched fingers, and he dropped the perfume bottle inside and sealed it. The scent remained strong. James bent down for a closer look. The perfume had dripped down the nightstand and had been caught by a plastic bag lying on the carpet.

“Bag.” He put the perfumed bag in the evidence bag and frowned. Another plastic bag. Another swollen body. There had to be a connection. He had been around too long to believe in coincidence.

“Anyone talk to her boyfriend, Jimmy Rider?”

“We checked him out,” Mike said, squatting down beside him. “He’s currently in jail for assault, possession and dealing. Apparently, he tried to sell unlicensed pharmaceuticals to an undercover operative and then got away. A beat cop picked him up a few blocks later and he resisted arrest. He said the police had the wrong guy.”

James snorted. “They all say that.”

He pushed himself to his feet. “I want a sniffer dog up here and over at Garcia’s place. Check Garcia’s cab as well for any drug residue. I’m going down to the station to interview the two lawyers who found her.”

Outside the apartment complex, he shed his protective suit and headed for his vehicle.

“Hunter.”

James recognized the voice and kept walking. Footsteps rang out behind him. He reached his Crown Victoria and pulled out his keys.

“Hunter, if you don’t talk to me, I’ll print based on rumors.”

He spun around and glared at Phillip Keegan, Vancouver’s most irritating crime reporter. Keegan flashed a set of perfect pearly whites and James wondered for the umpteenth time why a guy who looked like a damn blond Adonis had chosen the underpaid life of a journalist.

“No comment.”

“I’m hearing rumors about elephant people in our midst. Care to comment?” Keegan held up a small recorder.

James pulled open the car door and stepped inside. “Maybe there’s a circus in town.”

“Funny. You’re a funny a cop, Hunter.” Keegan stepped in front of the door, preventing James from slamming it closed.

“You wouldn’t think so if I held a gun to your head,” James growled.

“I hope you aren’t threatening me. Someone needs to find out where the elephant people are coming from before they hurt someone. I wouldn’t want one of Vancouver’s finest detectives languishing in jail when the city is overrun.”

“At least I wouldn’t have to see you.”

Keegan put his hand on the roof of the vehicle and leaned toward James. “How about I smooth things over with a joke? You used to like jokes when we started our little arrangement.”

James looked up at Keegan’s hand and then locked his gaze on the reporter until Keegan removed his hand and backed away.

Unperturbed, Keegan tucked away his recorder and pulled out his notebook. “What do you get when you cross an elephant with a skin doctor?” He flipped through the pages and looked down at James. “You’ll like this joke because it’s relevant to the case. My sources tell me the victim’s skin was grotesquely stretched all over her body.”

James reached for the interior door handle.

“A pachydermatologist.” Keegan laughed. “Reporters can be funny too.”

“You’ve missed your calling.” James leaned back in his seat and sighed. Years of experience trying to dodge the persistent reporter told him he would have to throw Keegan a few crumbs to make him go away. “I have work to do. You can quote this. Accidental death. Possibly an allergic reaction. Times two.”

Keegan snorted. “I’m not buying it. And if I don’t buy it, my discerning readers won’t either. People have allergic reactions every day. They don’t swell up twice the size and die grossly disfigured. They also don’t all have a common friend.”

James hissed in a breath. Damn Keegan. Where did he get his information
?
“You have a loose-lipped friend, likely in the coroner’s office, who is about to lose his job. But, you have my attention.”