Hot Case
Page 17
I waited until the mansion’s lower rooms were filled with people talking or dancing. As I scanned the room, I felt someone watching me.
I turned to see Blaise leaning against the doorway, his blond hair waving along the shoulders of his white poet’s shirt with split sleeves revealing glimpses of his tattoos. His gaze was glued to me, and as I had the other night when he’d fastened the red crystals to my ears, I felt an odd stirring, a rushing in my head. And this time he wasn’t even touching me.
Blaise curled his fingers toward me, inclined his head toward the dance floor. I looked that way, saw the couples in what appeared to be mating rituals. They were all over each other, hands groping, pelvises grinding, mouths locking. The music was pulsing sex and so were they.
A yearning whispered through me….
Frowning, I fought it. I wasn’t interested in Blaise Allcock. I wanted Jake. The very thought startled me, but there it was—the answer to his earlier question.
So I smiled at Blaise and shook my head regretfully and mouthed, “Sorry, I’m working.” He could make of that what he would, but it was the best I had to offer him.
I passed out drinks and worked my way toward the dining room, thinking that I was more earthy than I’d realized.
Glancing back at the dance floor, I saw Desiree slithering up against her partner, whose back was to me. It was dark, but the blond hair and shirt were hard to miss. Blaise had already moved on.
I picked up some empty platters that I took to the kitchen and set down on a counter near the back stairs. “Any more food to bring out?” I asked the caterer.
“It’ll be a while,” she said without so much as looking up from her work. “Come back in about fifteen minutes.”
“Will do.”
Fifteen minutes upstairs wasn’t a great deal of time, but it would be a start. And if I was missing any longer than that, someone was bound to notice. Making certain her attention was otherwise engaged, I slipped up the stairs, careful not to make any noise. A whiff of fresh air brought my attention to a window halfway up—it was open several inches.
The second-floor hallway was dark and oddly cool, probably in contrast to the body-heated downstairs.
To shake off the uncomfortable feeling I got entering Desiree’s private quarters, I decided to talk to the cops-at-the-curb unit.
“Hey, Norelli, in case you’re wondering why it got so quiet,” I said softly, “I didn’t leave, okay? I’m upstairs on the second floor.”
I couldn’t stop myself from pushing some buttons after Norelli had complained about my absence from the bar last night. If I was too nice, he would be suspicious.
An observation that reminded me of my conversation with Silke. Frowning, I wondered why I hadn’t been able to feel her knocking at my head in a while. I knew how worried she’d been. I couldn’t believe she would really stay off the twin-mind-meld airwaves tonight. After all, she had been the one to warn me of danger.
Creeping down the hall gave me the oddest feeling, as if I were entering another world. A dark, airless world. This floor felt sealed off. The windows were covered with heavy velvet draperies that let in not a peep of light from the street.
“What’s going on?” Norelli demanded.
“I’m looking for her bedroom.”
I peered in one room after the other, using my own personal flashlight rather than the one from the bar that I’d returned. One room was empty, another was stacked with boxes, but all were musty and airless.
And then I found the master suite, the entry of which was a combination sitting and dressing room. I found a switch and turned on the room light.
“The walls in here are purple,” I murmured for Norelli and Walker. “The carpeting and chaise are bloodred.” As were dozens of candles of every shape and size resting on surfaces and metal stands. I turned and nearly ran into a winged gargoyle perched on a black marble pedestal. “Shit!”
“What happened?”
“A gargoyle!”
“Ooh, don’t let it getcha.”
“Kiss my…” I coughed. If I said butt, no doubt Norelli would make something of it that would piss me off worse.
Continuing my search, I couldn’t help but wonder at the significance of the gargoyle and the unsolved murders. The closet revealed only clothes like those Desiree wore to the bar. The materials were either black or jewel tones of red, purple or deep blue.
Desiree certainly had her style down, I thought, moving to the doorway of the inner room, where I switched off the dressing-room light and switched on the one in the bedroom. I don’t know why I was surprised that the red carpeting, red satin sheets and red candles provided the only pinpoints of color.
I continued my narrative. “The bed is curtained in heavy black velvet like the spread.”
My gaze lit on a trunk next to the bed. It was beautifully carved of rosewood. Something drew me to it. I lifted the lid and revealed dozens of leather-covered books. But when I opened one, I saw handwriting rather than print.
“Journals.”
“What?”
“You know, like diaries. A bunch of them in a trunk next to the bed. The handwriting is hard to read, though. Kind of old-fashioned.” Then I found a date. “According to this, it was written at the turn of the century. The end of the nineteenth century.”
“Then why are you wasting your time on it?”
I paged back to the inside of the front cover. “According to this, the author is Desiree Leath.”
“So the broad’s sentimental. Musta been her great-grandma’s.”
“Must have been.”
I replaced the journal and closed the trunk and took a look at the rest of the room.
“There’s a single plush black chair in front of a small table covered with a dark-red-and-purple fringed scarf.” Drawing closer to it, I said, “Now, there’s something odd—the table is loaded with makeup, but there’s no mirror.”
“Maybe it broke when she looked into it,” Norelli said with a guffaw.
Grimacing, I thought to say something smart-ass back to him when I heard laughter floating down the hall.
“Damn!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s coming.” Desiree, no doubt. I looked around wildly for another door, but there wasn’t one. “There’s only one way out of here. I’m trapped.”
“Don’t panic. Look for someplace to hide.”
I switched off the room light and thought about the closet in the dressing room. But what if Desiree had come for a change of clothing?
The voices drew nearer.
“The bed!”
I ducked under it and prayed whatever she had come for, it wouldn’t take her long to get it. My heart pounded so hard, I feared I wouldn’t be able to hear them.
No such luck.
The footsteps stopped in the other room and Desiree moaned, “Oh, yes, touch me there.”
I peeked out from under the bed skirt to see Desiree silhouetted by a soft table light she’d turned on. The lamp shade was of red glass beads, and a silky red scarf floated around it. The room seemed to be on fire.
As were Desiree and her companion. Lips locked, the two twirled and, as they fell together on her chaise, Desiree on top, waves of blond hair spilled over. Great. Blaise was with her, and even from my cockeyed view I could still see enough of Desiree to know she was opening the front of her gown.
I grimaced. They were going to do it right there!
Disgust quickly replaced fear. The good news was they weren’t going to do it on the bed above me.
At least I hoped not.
I pulled back away from the bed skirt so I wouldn’t be tempted to watch. But I couldn’t help but hear. Desiree was a very lusty, very loud lover, far more so than her sex partner. I tried to shut out her moans and sighs and shouts—yes, shouts. Plural. I don’t know how many orgasms she had, but they seemed to go on forever.
Okay, so despite my disgust at being forced to eavesdrop, I was a little impresse
d. I didn’t know a woman could have that many orgasms that close together, and Jake had done a pretty incredible job on me the other night.
Just when I didn’t think I could stand to listen to one more scream of passion, I heard Desiree say, “Your throat…it’s so very tempting. I can’t wait any longer. Arch your neck for me. Yes, that’s it….”
I couldn’t help myself. I had to look.
“What the hell’s going on?” Norelli demanded to know.
Not that I could chance telling him. The earful he must have gotten gave him the score.
At least until now.
What I saw made my stomach twist. Desiree’s eyes seemed to glow as she opened her mouth wide, and as she dipped her head I caught sight of teeth too long to be real. Had she put in those crazy contact lenses and some kind of bridge with extended canines? That mouth quickly closed over the offered throat.
Part of me thought to stop whatever was going to happen, but before I could move, Norelli was saying, “Don’t break cover until you see what’s really happening.” I knew that if I moved too soon, we wouldn’t be able to make a case against her.
The twisting and turning on the chaise grew frenzied, in what sounded like a mutual orgasm that lasted so long and was so loud that I felt shattered when it ended. I peeked out again just in time to see Desiree lift her head. I scowled in disgust when I saw the blood smeared around her mouth. Her long, pointy tongue was trying to lick every drop.
And she seemed to be staring my way…as if she knew I was here!
When she smiled this time, her teeth looked normal, and I wondered what she’d done with the fake ones. “I knew you would be delicious,” Desiree murmured as she rose from the chaise. “And an audience makes it so much better.”
She did know I—or someone—was here! But how?
Desiree’s gown was open in front and I could see her body, which didn’t look quite as thin as I thought it would. Without even closing the garment, she wandered to the door, saying, “I must see to my other guests. I’m sure you understand. Rest for as long as you need to recover and then join me downstairs. You need to eat to regain your strength so that I can savor you again very soon.”
She threw a kiss my way before undulating out of the room. A moan came from the chaise, and a white-garbed arm spilled over the edge.
“I’m going out,” I whispered, getting to my feet and creeping to the dressing room.
“Be careful!” Norelli ordered. “I don’t want to do more paperwork than I have to.”
“Nice.” I hurried to make certain that Blaise wasn’t dead.
I stopped in shock when I saw Desiree’s very-much-alive sex partner sprawled across the chaise—a blond woman who was still writhing her hips in ecstasy. Her pant zipper was down and I could see dark blond curls peek out from the gap.
“But Desiree left too soon,” she said, noticing me. Her tongue darted quickly over her lips. “I need more. You can help me.”
“Jeez, it’s a broad,” I heard Norelli say to Walker, “and I think she’s coming on to Caldwell.”
The blonde arched her neck and I saw twin holes from which thin streams of red oozed down to her naked breasts. She trailed long fingers through the blood down to a peaked nipple and arched her neck to me.
“Please,” she said, trailing her hand back up through the red smears up to her neck. “Taste me and I’ll let you do anything to me you want.”
I nearly choked at the offer. “You look like you’ve lost a lot of blood. You should let a doctor check you.”
“You don’t understand, do you?” The blonde wiggled around on the chaise as if in dire need. “I must have more.”
Staring at the oozing blood, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “What you want is sick.”
“Come on, Caldwell,” Norelli urged. “Loosen up. Give us a little lesbo action up close and personal. It’s damn boring out here.”
The woman sighed and appeared disappointed. “Oh, you’re one of those. Open your mind, honey—it’s the only way to fly. You really should try it sometime.”
She was sliding her hand down into the front of her pants. That was all I could take. I bolted out of there as fast as I could.
“What’s going on?” Norelli demanded to know.
“I’m leaving the scene. That might have been some sick shit, but it was consensual.”
“What kind of sick?”
“The kind where the hostess gets off while she sucks her guest’s blood.”
“Mother F!”
“Right. But both parties are alive and apparently happy.”
“I don’t know about that. The fangbanger apparently wanted you, Caldwell.”
“Go to hell.”
“Hey, some girl-on-girl action might loosen you up, and—”
“I can’t hear you, Norelli,” I singsonged and removed my earpiece and pocketed it.
Silently, I descended into the kitchen, careful not to give the caterer a clue as to where I’d been. “I’m back for those appetizers.”
“Right here,” she said, indicating a couple of loaded trays.
Smiling tightly, I transferred the snacks from the kitchen to the dining-room table.
I don’t know how I worked the rest of the party without giving myself away, but somehow I managed it. And every once in a while, I caught a glance of the bar owner. Desiree glowed from the inside out. No longer wan, she was more beautiful than ever, vivacious, the life of the party. Her guests seemed drawn to her, as if they wanted a piece of whatever it was she had to offer.
Or maybe that was just me imagining things. If nothing else, she had regained her strength.
As if the blood had worked some magic on her.
Eventually the blond sex partner came back downstairs. She was obviously still turned on and ready for more. She looked right through me, and I was relieved that I saw no hint of recognition. When she tried to get close to the object of her desire, Desiree merely tolerated her fawning. I sensed the bar owner was already looking for another sex partner. Someone else who would indulge her sick fantasies.
Only Jake sensed my disgust. I could tell, even though he didn’t say anything to me during the rest of the party. Around 4:00 a.m., most of the guests were gone and I was beyond exhausted. I noticed Desiree had disappeared, undoubtedly with another fangbanger, as Norelli had dubbed them.
We were cleaning up when Jake broke the silence between us and asked, “So what happened to get you so upset?”
“Nothing,” I lied. Norelli was still listening in and I wasn’t about to give him an earful.
I dropped the last of the wandering beer bottles into a plastic garbage bag and left it against the wall behind the makeshift bar.
“It’s something,” Jake insisted, setting stemmed glasses of various shapes in a plastic carton that would go to the caterer in the kitchen.
“If you say so.”
Not wanting to be pressed further, I walked off and headed for the powder room. I felt Jake’s gaze on me all the way. Under different circumstances, I might be turned on, but tonight had been way too weird for me.
Once inside the powder room, I spoke in a low voice. “Norelli, we’ll be cleared out of here in a few minutes, so I’m signing off. You and Walker go home. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
Hopefully, they would actually leave. I should go back to the office, of course, to turn in the equipment and to write up a report. But it was half-past four in the morning, coming up quickly on dawn.
Screw the report. It could wait until tomorrow.
I needed some sleep. More than that, I needed a drink. I thought about having a double of anything before I left, but decided I didn’t like the eerie atmosphere of the place. And I didn’t want to give a certain bartender the chance to give me the second degree.
Jake was standing at the cleaned bar, looking ready to leave.
“I’m gone,” I said.
“Desiree won’t like it if you leave before she dismisses you.”
Jake didn’t argue and I took off.
First thing I did when I got outside, I checked for Norelli’s car. Gone. Good. I didn’t need him ragging on me for removing the earpiece. I was too tired to fight with him.
But not too tired to remember what little I’d seen go on in Desiree’s quarters as I drove home. The violence of the sex act had sickened me, as had my inability to do anything to stop it. Well, legally, anyway. There were lots of sick bastards in this world. I knew that. I just didn’t want an up-close-and-personal look at their perverted activities.
I was grateful to find a parking spot practically in front of my doorway. I didn’t have much left in me as I climbed the stairs to my apartment. To my shock, Jake was waiting for me in front of my door again.
“It’s late, Jake.”
“We need to talk.”
“Tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow.”
He was blocking my path. If I didn’t give in, I might never get inside my apartment.
“All right. Come in. I’ll give you five minutes.”
Once inside, I looked for the cats, but they weren’t waiting for me at the door as usual. Sarge was sitting in the bedroom doorway, his eyes wide as he stared at Jake. In the middle of the living area, Cadet made a weird growling sound, fluffed out her tail and ran into the bedroom. Sarge whipped around and followed her.
“That’s weird. They’re usually okay with strangers. Sarge, Cadet, din-din. C’mon, kitties, come out and eat.”
But the cats didn’t respond. I set out their food in case they changed their minds and then I poured myself a drink. Not the red wine I might normally choose, but a shot of straight añejo tequila, aged long enough to be reminiscent of whiskey.
“Want some?” I asked Jake.
“Don’t need it.”
“Well, I do.”
I downed the shot and appreciated the burn as it hit my gut.
“So talk,” Jake said.
“I thought you were the one who wanted to do the talking,” I said, feeling my body relax from the tequila.