Naked Frame (7 page)

Within a foot of her back, he stood upright.
"Don't move."

Phillipa flinched.

"Kill the torch."

She turned it off and set it down on the
workbench.

"Feel that?"

She gasped. "Yes." She took off her
goggles.

"Hold still, or it might go off."

"Have you no control over your weapon?"

"Very little."

Phillipa spun around. "What the hell took
you so long?"

He grabbed her up in his rock-hard arms and
kissed her hard on the lips.

She pulled away. "How much time do you
have?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"Let's make it count."

He scooped her up as though she were a
feather pillow. Phillipa loved that. She was tall and fit, but at
175 lbs., very few men could make her feel weightless.

Mandibul carried her to her office and set
her down on her feet.

She threw off her lab coat and began to
unbutton his security guard shirt while he took off her blouse.

Phillipa looked up into his eyes. "You could
get fired for this, you know."

"We won't get caught."

"I'm not talking about getting caught. I'm
saying if you give a sub-par performance."

"You know better than that."

She grinned. "Yes, I do."

He stripped off her bra, poised to devour
her breasts.

"Mandibul?"

He did not take his eyes off her chest.
"Yes? What do you desire tonight? Your wish is my command."

"Good. But first...I have a question for
you."

He stood erect, and looked directly into her
eyes.

"Have you ever...killed anyone? I know you
were in the military, and—"

"—yeah, I've killed a few men."

"Was it hard?"

"You don't think about it. You're in
survival mode."

"I see."

"The problem is...you think about it
afterwards."

"Could you ever do it again?"

"I guess. If I had to. Why? You got somebody
you want me to knock off?" He smiled.

She giggled. "Of course not. I'm being
hypothetical, Silly."

"How about I hypothetically pull your
panties off and throw you down on the couch?"

"Better yet, do it for real."

"Yes, Ma'am."

CHAPTER 10 - Tuesday, 1:40 a.m.

Gabby waited for the traffic light to turn
green. "So, where are we going?"

"The Grande Pimpton Hotel," said
Rebecca.

"I know where it is. But it's two o'clock in
the morning. What is she—a night clerk?"

"No. She's a hooker."

"You're working for a
hooker?
"

"Yeah. But what I've been working on has
nothing to do with her...job. It's about her daughter. Big Bill
raped her."

"That bastard."

"He didn't force her. But legally, because
she's underage, it's still rape."

"How do you know she did it willingly?"

"Well..."

"You watched, didn't you? You videoed the
whole thing."

"I know—it's not pretty, but it's part of my
job."

"What in the world would make a young girl
want to have sex with that old fart?"

"To get a job at Café Nue."

"Of course. So she could be discovered by a
Hollywood agent."

"Those young women will do anything to get a
job there. I'd like to knock some sense into all of them."

"Maybe Carly isn't answering
her phone because she's
busy
, if you know what I
mean."

"Serving a customer?"

"Is that what she calls it?"

"Yeah. But no, it's not that. Not after
midnight."

"Maybe she already went home and went to
bed. Turned her phone off."

"She stays at the hotel for a while, to
shower and recuperate."

Gabby shook his head in disgust.

"Then she goes home to her husband."

"Does he have any idea what she's
doing?"

"Oh yeah, he knows. He doesn't seem to care
as long as she brings home the bacon."

"Is he a drunk? Or a lazy bum?"

"Neither. He's weird. He works on cars all
day long. It's all he cares about. And he's very good at it.
Meticulous, but very slow. So he doesn't make much money."

**********

As they walked up to the hotel lobby, they
saw their reflection in the glass doors. Their faces and clothing
were smutty. Rebecca's half-curly hairdo was leaning to one
side.

Gabby said, "We're a mess."

"We look like we just had sex in a
dumpster."

Gabby grinned at her. "The sex part sounds
good."

"Gabby." She pushed his shoulder and he lost
his balance, and nearly fell down. "Oh. Sorry."

"Maybe we should have got a motel room and
taken a shower first."

"But we don't have any other clothes. And I
really need to do this right now. It won't take long."

When the young man at the counter saw them
approaching, he began to rummage through the cabinets below.
Probably looking for a can of Lysol, Rebecca thought. Or pepper
spray.

"Could I please get an extra key for Room
412?"

Without saying a word, he went to the rack
of key cards.

"I appreciate this," said Rebecca.

"No problem." He handed her the key card,
being sure not to touch her sooty fingers.

Rebecca and Gabby walked to an elevator.

Gabby pushed the call button, and whispered,
"I can't believe he gave you the key card without making you show
I.D. Do you know him?"

"I've seen him before when I've come here to
meet with Carly. But I doubt he recognized me looking like this. I
don't know why he didn't ask to see my driver's license. I think he
was afraid of us."

"You came up here this late?"

"No. We would meet
before
she started
working. In fact, I was supposed to come by here tonight—to bring
her a copy of the video. That was the errand I told you about on
the phone."

"Oh, yeah."

The elevator doors opened and they walked
in.

Rebecca pushed the fourth floor button. "The
Grande Pimpton—what a name. This place is not so grand
anymore."

"It gives me the creeps. It must be crawling
with hookers and johns."

"And roaches." Rebecca stomped one with her
foot.

The guts squished out and nearly hit one of
Gabby's Italian dress shoes. He gasped and jumped back.

The elevator doors opened and Rebecca led
the way to Room 412. She put her ear up to the door and listened.
But she heard nothing, so she knocked.

After waiting a few more seconds, Rebecca
slipped the key card into the slot. She eased down on the door
lever and slowly opened the door.

The light from the hallway flooded the room,
revealing a woman lying on the bed in a negligee, motionless. They
went in, and Rebecca closed the door and flipped the light
switch.

Carly Cinaway was flat on her back, both
hands on her chest. Her eyes were wide open, filled with
terror.

"Look at this thing," said Gabby, pointing
to the odd-looking piggy bank on the nightstand.

"Don't touch it. It's got an alarm system."
Rebecca reached into her pocket and took out a pair of latex
gloves.

"You're kidding."

"What?" She pulled the gloves onto her
hands.

"Where did you get those?"

"I had a box of them in my purse. In my line
of work, you never know when you're going to need to touch things
without leaving fingerprints." She felt Carly's neck, trying to
locate a pulse.

"Anything?" said Gabby.

Rebecca frowned and shook her head.

"What do you think killed her? I don't see
any blood."

Rebecca inspected the neck. "Doesn't appear
she was strangled."

"Overdose?"

"Maybe. But I don't see any pill bottles."
She checked each arm. "No needle marks."

"From the look on her face—"

"—I know. It's almost as if something scared
her to death." She slid her hands under Carly's body and rolled her
onto her side.

"What are you doing? You don't want to mess
around with the crime scene."

"I just need to make
sure—wonder what
this
is?"

"What?"

"Two little red spots on the sheet, where
her head had been lying. She's bleeding."

Gabby walked over to take a
closer look. "Awe, come on, Becca. That could have come from
a
pimple
. It's
nothing. Let's get out of here before we get caught."

"Let me take a closer look." She began to
inspect the back of Carly's head, foraging through her hair. "I
wish we had your flashlight."

"It's in the car. And don't ask. I won't go
get it. We need to leave. Now."

Rebecca continued searching Carly's head. "I
feel something right here."

Gabby reached into his pocket and took out
his key ring. "Try this."

She looked up. Gabby had a tiny flashlight
on his key ring.

"Thanks." Rebecca held her place on Carly's
scalp with one hand while taking the key ring light with the other.
She leaned in close and shined the light where her finger was.
"Check this out."

Gabby stepped closer to take a look. "What
is it?"

"Something punctured the skin in these two
spots."

"A needle?"

"Not unless it was one hell of a big
needle."

CHAPTER 11 - Tuesday, 1:50 a.m.

A beautiful young woman walked through Café
Nue, and found Bobby Ballantini standing in the side archway that
led to the restrooms. "Excuse me, Sir. I wonder if you can help
me."

He smiled. "I'll try my best."

"It's about my application for employment.
I've been waiting forever to hear something."

"It can take a while. You'll have to meet
with my boss: Mr. Ketrousie."

"Okay. Where can I find him?"

"No. You'll need an appointment, Honey. You
can't do it tonight. We're about to close. Come back tomorrow
afternoon. Around two."

She stepped in closer,
placed her hand on his arm, and looked deeply into his eyes with
every ounce of her considerable sex appeal. "Gee, I work afternoons
and evenings, so you can imagine how
hard
it is," she pushed one of her
thighs up against his, "for me to get here at that time. I was
really hoping to talk to him tonight."

"Well...I guess we can give it a try. Come
with me."

She followed him out of the dining room and
down a hallway.

Bobby knocked on the door and stuck his head
in. "Boss? I've got a young lady here who applied for a job a long
time ago, and she's wondering if—"

"—tell her to come back tomorrow."

"Aw, come on, Boss."

Joey hesitated. "Let me see her."

Bobby pushed the door wide open.

Joey smiled at what he saw. "Come on in,
Sweetie."

She walked in. Bobby closed the door and
walked away.

"You're quite a babe."

"Thanks."

"What's your name?"

"Megan."

"Well, Megan, as you know, this is a topless
establishment. So, I'll need to see your boobs to find out if you
meet our qualifications."

She began to take off her blouse. "You know,
I already did this for Big Bill."

"I understand. But things
have changed around here. Now
I
make all the hiring decisions."

"Okay." She took off her blouse, and her
bra.

"Nice, Baby." He walked around to the front
of his desk. "What did you say your name was?"

"Megan."

He walked toward her, eyes widening, about
to take a feel of her young, plump breasts.

"Megan Cinaway."

Joey stopped cold in his tracks. "Put your
clothes back on." He turned around and walked back to his desk and
sat down.

She knew her mother had threatened Big Bill
with rape charges. Did Joey know about it? She would never forgive
her mother if she had destroyed her chances for a job at Café Nue.
"What's the matter? Are they not big enough? I could get a boob
job."

"No, it's not that. If
anything you're
too
beautiful."

"Huh?"

"I think you're ready for the majors,
Baby."

"Majors?"

"Yeah. This minor league stuff is beneath
you. Hiring you to work here would be a waste of your considerable
talents and charm. I'm sending you to New York."

Megan bounced with excitement. "New York
City?"

"That's right, Baby. The Big Apple. You're
going to be a professional model. America is gonna be seeing your
sexy bod on the cover of all the top magazines."

"Wow. You could make that happen?" She
slipped into her bra.

"Sure. Now, here's what I want you to do."
He reached into his pocket and took out his money clip. He put some
bills on his desk. "Drive over to the Holiday Inn Express by the
airport. Get yourself a good night's sleep. I'll book your flight
for you. In the morning, you'll go to the American Airlines ticket
counter and tell them your name. They'll give you the ticket."

Megan was nearly speechless. "Okay." She
walked over to his desk and took the money.

"I make that trip a couple times a month.
Your plane will leave at 11:45 and get to New York at around 4:30.
There will be a guy from the modeling agency waiting for you at the
airport. He'll be holding up a sign with your name on it."

"Okay."

"Excited?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm
so
excited."

"Well, you
should
be. This is a
great opportunity."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Okay then. Get going. You'll need your
beauty sleep for that first photo shoot."