Step Into My Web

by Cynthia Eden

  “You get fucked!” The exam room door swung closed behind him.

  “Always great talking with you.” Ruben exhaled and the tension slid from his shoulders. “Super enlightening. Fascinating talks that we have. Please, come back again soon. Or, you know, never. Never come back. That would be awesome, too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Are you sleeping with Ruben?”

  Chloe didn’t look up at Joel’s question. She kept her head down, her dark hair falling forward to hide her face, as she poked around the alley. “No.”

  “Why not?” Ruben had sure implied that they were very, very close.

  “You need to be more observant.”

  “So you keep telling me.” Sweat trickled down his back.

  “I’m not his type.”

  “You’re every guy’s fucking type.”

  She ceased poking at the ground. Her head tilted back, sending her hair sliding over her shoulders. Her bright gaze darted to him. “Did you just give me a compliment?”

  “I mean…don’t get me wrong, you have these very, very disturbing moments…like when you’re in a bank and you’re taunting robbers…” He found himself edging closer to her. Like a moth to a flame. What. The. Hell? He caught himself. Stopped. “But you know you’re beautiful.”

  “Beauty is subjective. What one person thinks is a treasure, another thinks is trash.”

  “You’re not trash,” he growled.

  She waved her hand around the alley, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. “I just like digging in it.”

  He shook his head. She wasn’t going to tell him about Ruben. He got it. The woman could lock down or evade like a master.

  But he wasn’t giving up. “Richardson.”

  She went back to examining an area near the dumpster. “I’m definitely not sleeping with him. He’s not my type.”

  “Good to damn well know.” A surge of anger had slipped through him. Chloe and Richardson? That image had blasted into his head and he’d like to never imagine it again. “I meant, though, why do you hate him?”

  “Because of his incompetence, two women died in Florida. I kept telling him that he was incorrect in his assumptions. Over and over again. He wouldn’t listen to me. I wanted him to send out a warning. I knew the killer would attack again. Richardson had this whole theory about a cooling off period. Said the perp wasn’t going to deviate from the pattern.”

  “He was wrong.”

  “Richardson was angling for a big promotion. The man had his face on every news channel. He wanted to be seen as the next big expert on serial killers. He had his eyes on behavioral analysis stardom.” Her lips curled down. “But he overlooked important details. People died. Instead of learning from that mistake, he appears to have merely doubled down on his ignorance.”

  “Doubled down?” His eyebrows climbed. But then he became distracted by the fact that Chloe was leaning onto her tiptoes and trying to peer into the large, green and incredibly disgusting dumpster near her. “You’re not planning on climbing in there, are you?”

  “I’m just taking a look.” She put a foot on the side of the dumpster. Grabbed the top. Heaved herself up.

  He locked his arms around her waist. “Crawling inside a dumpster is not a good idea.” Words that he never, ever thought he’d have to say to a woman.

  “I wasn’t crawling inside. I was taking a look. By the way, you’re very strong.”

  His fingers were holding her a little too tightly. He needed to put her down—

  “No, no, you’re moving me the wrong way,” Chloe chided. “Instead of putting me down, can you lift me up?”

  “Are you serious right now?”

  Her fingers brushed over his. “You’re not even straining. Impressive. Lift me up a bit more, will you?”

  Grudgingly, he obliged. “Tell me that you don’t dumpster dive for fun on the weekend.”

  “I have dived into a dumpster before, but I assure you, the situation called for the action. It wasn’t merely for fun.”

  He gaped at her. But she was focused on the dumpster not him, so she missed his expression. Probably for the best.

  “You can lower me.”

  He let her feet touch the ground. His fingers…lingered. “What were you hoping to find? Let me guess, was it the murder weapon?”

  She turned toward him. “Of course not.” A quick smile. “Besides, Cedric was in charge of the crime scene. I know he had the dumpster searched before it was emptied yesterday. I just wanted a visual. Trying to see if there was an easy way out of the dumpster.”

  “A way out?” When she’d turned, his fingers had loosened their hold. But they were still around her waist.

  “Um. Yes. I’m working out semantics. Trying to figure out where everyone was. And, well, it would have been helpful if perhaps the cops had overlooked a small clue or two somewhere around this scene. Not like a bat. Hard to overlook that. But a ring? Much easier to miss.” A pause. “May I ask you a question now?”

  “Fire away.”

  “Why are you still holding me?”

  His fingers flexed. “I have no idea.”

  The strip club’s back door swung open. There was a startled gasp. Then… “Wh-what are you two doing here?”

  There was no surprise on Chloe’s face. Her pupils didn’t flare and she didn’t give any jerk of surprise or anything like that. Come to think of it, she was never surprised anytime they got interrupted. He was starting to think she might be psychic or something.

  Smooth as could be, Chloe said, “Cinnamon, I was hoping we could talk again.”

  With those words, Joel got the sudden impression that Chloe had just been biding her time out back while she waited for Cinnamon to appear.

  “I want you to stay away from me!” Cinnamon began to back away. She grabbed for the door. Started to swing it closed.

  But Chloe caught the edge of the door. “Wait! Don’t go back inside, not—” Then she stopped and frowned at the side of the door. Squinted.

  Cinnamon jerked harder. She was obviously stronger than Chloe and that door would be smashing Chloe’s delicate fingers in the next few seconds—shit.

  She’s not getting hurt on my watch.

  He grabbed the door. Curled his fingers around the edge. “Just give us two minutes, would you?”

  Cinnamon glared at him.

  “Please,” he gritted out.

  She licked her lips. “Fine.”

  Well, hell. Ruben had been right. Certain words could be magic.

  “Two minutes,” Cinnamon continued grudgingly, “and then that’s it. You leave me the hell alone.” She stopped trying to jerk the door closed.

  Joel released his hold, too.

  Chloe kept squinting at the side of the wood. “I’m pretty sure this is blood spatter.”

  He craned his head to see. “How can you tell? It just looks like grime to me.”

  “The angle,” Chloe explained. “If you look here at the drops—”

  “Your two minutes are ticking down,” Cinnamon huffed. “I came out here to toss away the trash and not to waste any time with you.”

  Chloe gave a hard nod. “Fine. Let’s cut straight to the chase. Where is Donnie’s ring?”

  Cinnamon’s gaze whipped away from hers. “His what?”

  “The championship ring that Donnie wore. It’s missing. Where is it?” Chloe asked patiently.

  Cinnamon’s cheeks flushed. “You think I stole it?”

  “I never said you stole it. I just asked where it was.”

  “How the hell would I know?” Cinnamon stepped back.

  “Because you do. Because Donnie told everyone that you were his girl. Because even though you hated him, he…had an attachment to you.”

  “Sonofabitch wouldn’t let me go.” Pain and rage tore in Cinnamon’s words.

  “I’m sorry,” Chloe’s voice was softer. “I think knowing the location of the ring might help us to find his killer.”

  Cinnamon’s eyelids flic
kered. “Oh. Is that what you think?” She rocked back onto her heels. “You know, I do remember now. He used it to pay a debt in a card game recently. Donnie liked to play his cards. Pity he lost more than he won.”

  A card game? “Where was the game? At one of the casinos?” Joel figured that had to be the—

  “Nah. He got barred from them long ago. It was an off-the-books game. Invite only. Donnie knew someone who got him in a few times. But…come to think of it…” A nod. “He lost heavily during his last run. Very heavily. That’s why he was so mad.” Her fingers fluttered near the bruises on her neck. Bruises she hadn’t yet covered with makeup. “He wanted that ring back. Said it meant something to him. I bet he was gonna try and get it back.”

  Joel figured they needed to talk to the man who ran the card game. “Where’s the game?”

  “At the Serpent.”

  He had zero clue what the hell that was. Chloe nodded, though. Like it was a thing she completely understood.

  “But you got to know someone to get in,” Cinnamon rushed to add. “Not like just anyone from the street can head in for a game.”

  “Don’t worry. I know someone.” Chloe smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  Cinnamon whirled away.

  “What color were his eyes?” Chloe inquired quietly.

  Cinnamon stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

  “The man in the ski mask. What color were his eyes?”

  Cinnamon turned back toward her. “I didn’t see his eyes.”

  “But there were eye holes in the mask?”

  “I don’t know. I was too busy looking at Donnie’s body to pay attention!” Her voice broke. “Your two minutes are up. Leave me alone. I mean it. Stay away.” This time, she grabbed once more for the door handle, obviously intending to shut them out. And probably then lock them out.

  “What about the baseball bat?” Joel heard himself ask.

  A tremble worked over Cinnamon’s body.

  “Did you get a good look at that?” he pushed.

  “I didn’t get a good look at anything.” She wrenched the door shut.

  He exhaled and tried to ignore the fact that the alley smelled way too much like piss. “She’s lying.”

  “Yes. She didn’t have a garbage bag with her. She wasn’t coming out to dispose of the trash.”

  “No, no, I mean…she saw the baseball bat.”

  “Well, certainly she did.” But Chloe didn’t look at him. She was peering at the wall near the door. “More flecks. There’s so much crap out here that I bet the crime scene techs didn’t notice it all.”

  “Why did she lie about the baseball bat?”

  “Because she doesn’t want us to know what she saw. She’s scared. Scared people lie.” Said very matter-of-factly.

  “Don’t you want her to tell us the truth?”

  “She did. Partly. We’ll go to the Serpent and learn more.”

  “What in the hell is the Serpent?” And how did Chloe know about the place?

  “When the door opened, I had to stand right…here.” She waved her hand. “And if you were to hit me from behind, the blood spatter from my head wound—if I were about seven inches taller, you know, Donnie’s height—the spatter would fly so that a portion of it hit the side of the door. The side, and the interior section. The interior was cleaned. The side wasn’t. That’s why I could still see some drops. When the door is shut, you forget to clean the side.” A brisk nod. "I’ll have to make sure Cedric knows this.”

  “Wait.” He curled his hand around her shoulder.

  She shivered.

  It was sweltering out there. She couldn’t be cold.

  Her head turned toward him. Her gaze seemed very, very intent.

  “Chloe?”

  “The blood spatter indicates the door was open. But Cinnamon told us she peeked out after she heard the screams. Her story isn’t matching with the evidence.” A sigh. “She’s not just lying to us. She’d hiding something very big.”

  “Why?”

  “Probably because she’s terrified. We’ll find a way to make her talk, don’t worry. Meanwhile, Cedric can work his magic here.” Her gaze darted to his hand. “Do you know that you’re still touching me?”

  “Do you know that you shiver when I touch you?”

  “Yes, I do. It’s because I feel like an electric current travels through my whole body when you put your hand on me. Very unsettling.”

  What. The. Actual. F—

  “It won’t distract me, though. Don’t worry about that.”

  “I was not even a little bit worried about that.” Damn. They were in a stinking alley, and he was thinking about tugging her closer. Seeing if he could turn her shiver into something much, much more. “The Serpent.”

  She pulled away from him. Sent off a text on her phone. No doubt to Cedric. Then she walked toward the mouth of the alley with her head down.

  “Are you going to tell me what the Serpent is?” Joel demanded as he trailed behind her. “Or do I just get to guess?”

  “It’s a club. With a special room reserved for VIPs.” She frowned down at the phone and paused before exiting the alley. “Cedric will have a team here within the hour.”

  “That’s great news.” He moved to her side. “How will you get us in the VIP room?”

  “I know the owner of the club.”

  “How?”

  She stepped forward.

  He reached out and circled his hand around her arm. Will she shiver a second—

  “He owes me a favor. He’s the kind of man who pays his debts. He’ll see us. Don’t worry about that.”

  Now he had to wonder just what sort of favor she’d done for the guy.

  “The club won’t be letting visitors in tonight, though, so you can consider yourself off for the rest of the evening.” She strolled toward the motorcycle as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But then she paused. Frowned.

  He realized that something was on the seat of the bike. He hurried forward and saw— “What in the hell is that?”

  “A tarot card.”

  “It’s a freaking devil.” A weird-looking guy with horns and the big, clear words…The Devil written in heavy font across the bottom of the card. Joel’s head whipped up. He glanced to the left. To the right. There was no one close by. No stranger milling in the area and eyeing his bike.

  “Someone is sending us a message,” Chloe said as she picked up the card.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  She arched one delicate eyebrow.

  “That could have prints on it!”

  Her lips curled. “You’ve been watching a lot of CSI. Like crime shows, hmm?”

  When he’d been in his dump of an apartment, he’d watched too much TV…that was, when he hadn’t been out, running on the streets again and again. “Prints,” he pointed out to her. But she should not need the reminder. “Cedric can—”

  “It’s a card that was left on a motorcycle. Cedric isn’t going to care about it. And I can guarantee you that Richardson won’t think it’s related to the case.”

  “Is it related to the case?” He figured it had to be, seeing as how it had been placed on his bike while they were checking out the crime scene.

  “No. It’s a warning, but I don’t think it came from the killer we’re after.”

  She didn’t think it had? “What kind of warning?”

  Chloe slid the card into the motorcycle’s saddlebag. “What do you know about tarot cards?”

  “Absolutely nothing.” What was he supposed to know?

  She eased onto the bike. “Would you like for me to drive this time? I think you’ll be most impressed by my skills—”

  “I’ll drive.” He straddled the bike. He was pretty sure her skills would terrify him. But before he got the motorcycle moving, Joel wanted to know, “What does the devil card mean?” Because he was sure she knew. The woman seemed to have random knowledge about everything.

  “Many things.” Her arms slid
around him. “Bondage. Enslavement.” A pause. “Fear. It refers to feeling trapped…”

  Sonofabitch. Ever since his attack, Joel’s greatest fear was being trapped. Locked up. Buried alive. “That message is for me. Not you.”

  “That was my original thought. But you don’t have enemies in this town, do you, Joel?” Her voice was soft. Careful. “You only arrived here six months ago.”

  It figured that she’d know when he arrived. “I came back six months ago,” he corrected. “I lived here a long, long time ago.” Another life. “And, no, I don’t have enemies.”

  “Not that you know about.” Her hold tightened on him. “Here’s the thing. We can all have enemies. Even if you haven’t done anything to stir up rage, sometimes, an enemy can be out there. Some of the most dangerous people hide how they really feel about us. They act like they are our friends. They aren’t.”

  He didn’t like just sitting there in the open. Last night, Chloe had almost been run down on that street. And now—the creepy card.

  The jackass who’d left the card could still be close by.

  Someone wanted me to know…some bastard is out there and he understands what I fear.

  Joel hurtled away from the curb on the motorcycle and twisted and turned through the streets of New Orleans. The motorcycle growled and vibrated beneath him. Chloe’s body pressed tightly against his. He could feel her. Was hyperaware of every single thing about her. That was becoming a problem for him. The longer he was with her, the more he reacted. The stronger his reaction.

  He drove through the gates of her home, then brought the bike to a stop near the guest house. The engine idled a moment before he killed it and kicked down the stand.

  Chloe didn’t immediately release her hold on him. “There’s another meaning to the card.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her. She still wore her helmet. Looked gorgeous because she always did.

  He held her gaze. Waited.

  Chloe slowly pulled away. She handed him the helmet and climbed from the bike.

  He sat there, watching her. “You can’t leave me in suspense.”

  She stilled.

  “What’s the other meaning?”

  Chloe bit her lower lip. “The card is also about seduction.”