Kaylin's Pursuit [The Black Iris Club 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Skye Michaels

  “You don’t have to come, Jack. In fact, it might be better if you didn’t.”

  “Sorry. Not an option. I have a bad feeling about this. Our guy wasn’t at the club last night. I’d bet money this is connected to Lucy’s murder.”

  “I think you’re right. Okay. Just don’t think you’re going to be my new ‘ride along buddy.’” She smiled to blunt the sting.

  “Babe, I am not all that anxious to go on dawn ride alongs. This is a special instance.”

  When they arrived at the scene, Del did not look at all happy to see Jack. “Brown. A little early for you isn’t it?”

  “Not really, Detective. I usually roll over about this time.”

  “Care to tell me your whereabouts last night?”

  “Really? You have to be kidding. I think my date can vouch for my whereabouts. Why don’t you ask her?” He turned to Kaylin with a grin on his face.

  “Del, don’t be an ass. I was with Jack every minute of yesterday and last night.” Del looked disgruntled but said no more on the subject of Jack’s whereabouts. It was clear that he wasn’t happy to have his partner spending time with Jack Brown.

  After donning gloves, they walked over and crouched down next to the body of a thin young woman with frazzled blonde hair. Kaylin proceeded to take some pictures with her cell phone. She walked over to Jack. “Do you recognize her?”

  “Sorry. No. Never seen her before.”

  “Could she be a sub from the club? Would you know all of them on sight?”

  “I’m sure I’ve never seen her before. She looks a little rough. Like she’s been ridden hard and put up wet.”

  “Jack!”

  “Well, to be honest, the subs at the club have a more…” He was searching for a word that wouldn’t offend. “Upscale look. Well-fed, well-groomed, well-dressed.” Well-fucked?

  Just then the Crime Scene Unit pulled into the parking lot followed by the Medical Examiner’s van. The crime scene tech, Tammy Sullivan, took the victim’s fingerprints while the ME gave the body a cursory examination. “I’ll want to do a full autopsy back at the morgue, but it looks like this one was strangled. I’ll need to do a tox screen, etcetera.”

  Sullivan sent the prints to the computer in the CSU and came back with an immediate identification. “She’s in the system. Prostitution. Angela Gomez, age twenty-three. Address off Sistrunk Boulevard. Not a good neighborhood.”

  After a few more minutes looking over the scene, they left it to the ME and the CSIs. “Let’s go check out her apartment.” He turned to Jack. “I’ll drop Kay off at your building to pick up her car later, Brown. Thanks for bringing her out.” It was a dismissal, plain and simple.

  Jack took it with good grace. “Call me later, Kaylin, and we’ll decide what to do about tonight. If you want to go to the club, we can do that.”

  Kaylin nodded. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll talk to you later.”

  * * * *

  He stood in the window of the Dunkin’ Donuts across and down from the crime scene. He watched as Kaylin Gallagher got out of Jack Brown’s Escalade. Arriving together at a crime scene at this hour of the morning, it was perfectly obvious that they’d spent the night together. He had skipped the club last night, had gone to the club in Pompano instead. Their relationship was seriously starting to piss him off. He might bump up his plans for the lovely Kaylin. He just might.

  * * * *

  Del pulled his Jeep up to the curb outside a small, run-down bungalow on Second Avenue off Sistrunk Boulevard. “Rough looking. Paint’s peeling, yard is nothing but weeds. Let’s see if anyone answers the door.” There was a light on at the back of the house, probably in the kitchen. Del knocked on the door. It was answered by an older woman with a baby on her hip. Oh shit. He hated this. It was the absolute worst part of the job. He flashed his badge. “Detectives Lord and Gallagher, BSO, ma’am. Do you know…” He watched as her tired face crumpled.

  “No. Not Angela. Please tell me you’re not here…”

  “I’m sorry. What is your name, ma’am?”

  “I’m Serena Gomez, Angela’s mother. This is her daughter, Yoli. She’s only four months old. What happened?”

  They related the grim details and questioned Mrs. Gomez about her daughter’s friends, acquaintances, and habits. They didn’t learn anything they didn’t expect. Angela’s boyfriend had not stepped up to help with child support for the baby’s expenses, and she had gone back to the life on the street to provide for her disabled mother and the new baby. It was a sad but not uncommon story. Mrs. Gomez had nothing to offer in the way of motive or actual suspects.

  “Let’s see what the CSU and ME come up with, if they can link any of these murders with forensics. I bet it’s going to be another dry hole. Shit. I’m going in to the station. Do you want to come or do you want a ride back to your car? I’m going to update the murder board and wait to see what the CSU turns up.”

  “I’ll come in with you. Maybe something will jump off the board when we do the update.”

  “I thought you’d be anxious to get back to Jackie Boy.”

  “I will reiterate. Try to keep up. Don’t be an ass, Del. Jack and I are enjoying each other, but that is not going to interfere with my doing the job, so shut up already. I’m getting tired of your same old song—and if you say he’s a suspect again, I won’t be responsible for my reaction.”

  “Okay. Okay. Sorry.”

  * * * *

  Kaylin studied the murder board. There were four victims. Lucy Evans, and now the three prostitutes in Pompano. That was a hard and dangerous life. It wasn’t uncommon for prostitutes to meet a bad end. Lucy Evans had not been a part of that life. Kaylin thought if there was going to be a breakthrough it would be something to do with Lucy. She was the round cog in the square hole at this point.

  The stockbroker angle was still niggling at the back of her mind. She had found a couple of names from the club that matched up to stock brokerage houses in the area, but none of them popped as suspects. She thought it had to be someone from the club or the building. Who else would be there that late at night and also know Lucy Evans and her schedule? Well, he didn’t actually have to know Lucy Evans, just see her there. Kaylin was ready to scream—so many possibilities but no real leads. This case was getting older and colder. The prostitute angle didn’t seem promising. They were probably just targets of opportunity. She doubted the killer knew any of them, although they would still have to carefully check all of their backgrounds. That would eat up a ton of time and resources with probably few results.

  Del walked over to the board and looked over her shoulder. “Get you a cup of coffee?”

  “Peace offering? Yeah. I didn’t have a chance for a cup or breakfast this morning.”

  “Dispatch get you out of bed? I was getting ready to hit the beach when I got the call.”

  “I was awake…”

  “Yeah?” He didn’t look happy.

  “Del, get over it. Pouting is not going to help the situation. It’s just going to aggravate me.”

  “I can’t help it. He gets under my skin, and I don’t think this relationship, if it is a relationship, is going to have a good end.”

  “You can’t know that, and you don’t know Jack.”

  “Neither do you. Not really.”

  “You are right about that. Deep down ‘knowing’ takes time, so give me some of that. Okay? You might try to get to know him yourself. You might find out you actually like each other. Right now we have to concentrate on the case.”

  “Okay. Truce.”

  Well, that was something. They would have to see how long the truce actually lasted. Del was a stubborn bastard, and that was part of the reason he was such a good cop. He never gave up, but neither did she.

  * * * *

  Jack was waiting for a call from Kaylin to see if she wanted another night at the club. He was glad to see her name pop up on the screen of his phone.

  “Hey, babe. Do you need a ride back to the building?�
��

  “No, thanks. Del is going home to change and then we’re coming in for another try in the club tonight. I’m going to bring him up to your apartment. Maybe you two can have a beer, find some common ground, while I change.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  “Geez. I say so. This tension between you two is starting to wear on me. You both need to get over it.”

  Shit. She was right. Continuing to annoy Detective Lord was counterproductive and not a good use of his time and effort. He’d be better off helping Kaylin find Lucy’s killer, and then fucking the daylights out of the beautiful detective he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind all day. He didn’t know if he would eventually have his fill of her, but he kind of doubted it. She seemed to have gotten under his skin like a burr and wasn’t getting out. He changed into his usual Dom wear and settled in front of the flat screen to catch up on some sports. When he heard the express elevator, he walked to the door to let Kaylin and Lord in. He was going to have to bite this bullet.

  When Lord walked through into his apartment, Jack stuck out his hand and said, “Let’s try this again. Good to see you, Lord. How about a beer before we go over to the dungeon?”

  Del shook his hand. “A beer would be good.” Jack walked into the kitchen and came back with two beers. They settled on the couch to watch the game while Kaylin changed in the bedroom.

  “Okay, Brown. It’s been obvious that you annoy the shit out of me. Let’s try to get past that for Kaylin’s sake.”

  Jack laughed. “Detective, I frequently have that effect on people. Kaylin doesn’t need a raft of shit from either of us.”

  “Call me Del. Who’s winning?”

  * * * *

  Kaylin was glad to see that forcing the situation between Jack and Del seemed to have had a positive effect. They were both comfortable with their feet up on the coffee table, drinking beer and watching the game. Good. It was a start anyway. They both looked up when she came back into the living area. Jack had a smile a mile wide on his face, and Del just shook his head. Kaylin knew he was having a hard time watching her in these sexy dresses. Ha! Not to mention nude, or practically nude, in the dungeon with Jack’s hands on her. She understood that was difficult for him and hoped the undercover op wouldn’t have to last too much longer. She had a feeling in her gut that the perp was hitting critical mass. She hoped no one else died before they figured out who he was.

  “Let’s go, guys. Back to it. It’s hard work but someone has to do it.” Jack grinned, and Del shook his head again. Del took up his position behind the bar between the dungeon and the sitting area. She saw he was looking over the small crowd and cataloging faces. Del had an excellent memory for faces. She turned to Jack. “So, what depraved thing are we going to do for everyone’s amusement tonight?”

  His face changed—got cold. “Do you really feel it’s depraved?” He looked upset and—hurt?

  “No, Jack. No. I’m just joking with you. It’s a little odd to be sure, especially since we are trying to smoke out a killer. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “My feelings aren’t hurt. It’s fine. Let’s get going. The sooner we do our thing, the sooner we’ll be done and you can get home. Tomorrow is a workday.”

  Like today was a workday. Oh, no. He really is hurt. Who would have thought a couple of off-the-cuff words would dent Jack Dalton Brown’s feelings. Now she felt bad. That hadn’t been her intention at all. She tried to take his hand.

  “Protocol, sub. We’re on.”

  “Jack…”

  “Let’s roll. We have work to do.” It didn’t look like he was going to let this go. She hoped if she just played her part he’d get over it. She really hoped he would. Her stomach was a mass of nerves. She was shocked at her own reaction to Jack’s reaction. That was convoluted to say the least, but the hurt look in his eyes had pierced right the hell through her heart. Speak in haste, repent at leisure. Shit. Another one of Grammy’s sayings.

  * * * *

  Jack tried to shake off the tight feeling around his heart. Depraved? Did she really think that, or was it just an off remark that didn’t mean anything? She had a habit of teasing him to get a reaction. In any event, he was pissed. He thought it would be best if they cooled their jets for a couple of days and reassessed the situation. Things between them had been escalating, and he needed to get a handle on his feelings. “Leave your dress and shoes in the closet and get your cuffs.”

  Kaylin hurried to follow his orders. She didn’t look happy—no more happy than he felt right now. She came back to him and sank into the slave position at his feet while he looked her over and checked the fit of her cuffs. “St. Andrew’s cross, sub.” He could see the apprehension in the set of her shoulders, but she got up and moved to the cross. He fastened her cuffs with her face to the cross and her back to the room. As angry as he was, he still wanted to run his hands down her long, silky back and kiss the freckles on her shoulders. Shit. He wasn’t going to do it. Well, he had to touch her or they weren’t going to have a scene. That was the whole purpose of this exercise. He moved up close to her back and skimmed his hands down her spine and over her butt. This was clinical. He began to massage her shoulders to get the tension to release, but she was still tense. He slapped her butt. “Relax, sub. What’s your color?”

  “Yellow, Master. Can we talk please?”

  “Time for talking is over. Let’s get this scene moving.” He soothed the red handprint on her butt and ran his hands down between her thighs. Bone-dry. It looked like Kaylin wasn’t in the mood either. “Fake it if you have to so we can get the hell out of here.” She flinched at that.

  “I don’t want to fake it, Master. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. Your feelings are your feelings, and you are entitled to them.” This was definitely not helping. He was still pissed.

  “Those aren’t my feelings. Now you’re just being stubborn. I’ve apologized. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “I told you. My feelings are not hurt. I think we just need to reassess this situation. That’s all. Let’s get done here.”

  He didn’t want to be harsh, but he wasn’t going to spill his guts all over the dungeon floor. He wanted to do the job and get the hell out of here. He needed a drink.

  * * * *

  Hmm. Looks like trouble in paradise. Maybe the lovely Detective Kaylin Gallagher would be going home alone tonight. He’d have to watch and see. There was no way he could get to her in this fortress. He pretended to pay attention to his own sub, but he was watching the action at the St. Andrew’s cross and his actions were mechanical to say the least. It didn’t matter. His sub could take what he gave her, just like the other women—seven of them dead. He didn’t think the cops had any idea about the other three. He had offed them in Sarasota, several counties away.

  * * * *

  Kaylin found that she couldn’t respond to Jack when her emotions were in such turmoil. So, she did what he said and faked it. She wanted to get the hell out of here, into her car, and home where she could lick her wounds. She couldn’t believe Jack had frozen her out like that after the week and a half they had been all but inseparable. Now her feelings were hurt. Geez. What a cluster fuck.

  They finished the scene, and Jack walked her down to her car. She tried once again to get him talking, but he cut her off. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow about another scene. If you want to continue, I will. I’ll do that for Lucy.”

  Kaylin got in the car and drove down to the ground floor at a speed that was too fast for the tight conditions in the spiral. She was lucky not to scrape a bumper. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  Chapter Nine

  Kaylin Gallagher’s bungalow in the Rio Vista section of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Sunday night, July 20, 2014, 11:15 p.m.

  When Kaylin got to her street, she automatically slowed down and checked the neighborhood, looking for anything out of place, cars that didn’t belong there,
or kids hanging out where they shouldn’t. She didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, but she knew she was distracted. Damn and double damn. She was not a person who thrived on conflict in her personal life. She got plenty of conflict on the job. This was upsetting her more than she should let it. Jack had seen her to her car and had opened her door like the gentleman he was, but he hadn’t kissed her goodnight. That stung. It was the first time he hadn’t done that.

  She parked the SUV in front of her house, grabbed up her overnight bag, briefcase, and purse, and headed up the walk to the front door. She was fumbling with the key because she had too many things in her arms. When she finally got the door unlocked she felt a presence behind her, but before she could react she was pushed into the house, fell to her knees, and dropped her keys and bags. Damn. Her gun was in that handbag. She scrambled toward the bag, but the dark presence kicked it across the floor and out of her reach. What the hell? She tried to see her attacker, but his face was in darkness, or perhaps he was wearing a ski mask? If she could get close enough, she might be able to kick his legs out from under him and get to the gun.

  “Don’t even think about it, Kaylin.” He pulled a gun out of his waistband. “I’m the one in charge here.”

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “Why, I want you, of course. My name doesn’t matter. You can call me Master. I’ve been watching you for weeks—since the Evans bitch’s crime scene. Didn’t see me there, did you? Not paying very close attention. Shame on you.”

  “I repeat. What do you want? This is really not a smart move.”

  “Oh, I think it is. Tell me what the cops have figured out so far, and I might let you live. No promises, but there’s always a chance.” It appeared he wanted to toy with her. She wasn’t going to let him.