Demons are Forever

by Kim Baldwin; Xenia Alexiou

  Sleep had been elusive when she returned to the hotel last night. She didn’t want to believe Heather was involved with Rózsa; it was bad enough to imagine her seeing clients to earn the money to pay her brother’s bills. Chase worried she was losing her ever-reliable objectivity about her mission and becoming too personally involved, as she had with the Stellari case.

  With hours to kill until Heather arrived at the brownstone, Chase took a long walk to clear her head and dispel some of her restlessness. After a bite to eat, she worked some on her novel, marveling once again at Heather’s resemblance to her Emily. Jack kept her apprised of Heather’s status in a series of text messages beginning shortly after five p.m.: She’s headed home. Changed clothes and caught a cab. Following her into a bar not far from you.

  Jack called Landis as she claimed a table in the corner of the bar, so she could keep her discreetly updated on developments via her Bluetooth earpiece. Her position allowed a good vantage point to watch Heather—who was perched on a stool at the bar—but was remote enough that Heather wouldn’t notice her. She ordered a Scotch and sipped it slowly as she surveyed the room. The upscale watering hole catered to affluent locals and to tourists and businessmen staying at the five-star hotel next door, so she felt a little conspicuous in her jeans, black T-shirt, and bomber jacket. But on the plus side, since she was the only female in sight not dressed to the nines, no one should bother her. Or so she thought.

  “Are you here alone or are you waiting for someone?” a man in his late thirties asked.

  “Say what?”

  “I’d like to buy you a drink.”

  Jack glared at him. “And I’d like to put a bullet in the guy who took my girl. What’s your point?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Wrong tree, Romeo. Not interested.”

  The man walked away with a puzzled expression. Landis laughed on the other end. “Smooth, Harding.”

  “I thought so, too,” Jack replied, as she resumed her focus on Heather.

  The call girl was having no trouble attracting the attention of several of the men in the bar. Within the first ten minutes, three guys approached her in an effort to strike up a conversation or buy her a drink, but she politely sent them on their way. They were all well dressed and seemingly affluent, but two of them were over fifty, and the third had gotten a rotten deal in the looks department. Several other men who seemed more likely prospects hovered nearby, apparently working up their nerve.

  “Looks like she’s here to pick up a john,” she told Landis. “You positioned?”

  “I’m in the van,” Landis replied. “Her mystery lover hasn’t shown yet.”

  “Shouldn’t be long. Dario’s appointment is in thirty minutes.”

  “Is she still alone?”

  “Yup. At the bar, and she has everyone’s undivided attention. If you thought she looked good last night, wait till you see her now. I think every guy in the place has a boner.”

  “Thanks for the colorful visual. Just stick to what’s relevant.”

  Jack watched as Heather lifted her glass to thank a guy across the bar for her drink. “Ironic how beauty is often a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

  “I needed a platitude to ground me. I told you, I’m not interested,” Landis said. “Black sedan just drove into the private parking area at the back. I’ll send Reno the license-plate number.”

  The guy who’d bought Heather a drink, a balding nerd in an ill-fitting suit, tried to parlay his gesture into something more, but he, too, was rejected. Then a new contender appeared, who seemed a more likely prospect. As soon as the guy—a thirtyish stud with a movie-star smile—claimed a seat a couple of stools away from Heather, she swiveled in his direction so he could get a good look at her.

  “I think she’s chosen her prey,” Jack told Landis. “Let’s see, he’s looking at her, all anticipation. He just turned to the barman and did a whatever-the-lady-is-having. Eye contact has been made.”

  “What is she having?” Landis asked.

  “White wine. And how is that relevant?”

  “She doesn’t drink.” Landis sounded disappointed.

  “Would explain why her glass is planted there like decoration.”

  “Good.”

  “Wait. She lifted her wine, smiled, and the guy’s mouth dropped. He got up and he’s smiling as he approaches her. She ever so slowly does the hair wave. He has the smile of someone who’s just won a million orgasms, and she has the look of a woman who can make that happen in an hour. You’d never believe this is the same woman you were with last night.”

  “Yes, I would,” Landis said sharply. “I’ve been with plenty of Ambers. I know the routine quite well.”

  “He just whispered something in her ear.”

  “And she grabbed his shoulder, threw her head back, and laughed seductively.”

  Jack laughed. “Scary. Okay, what color am I thinking of right now?”

  “Sadly, he thinks he’s actually funny. He knows he’s paying, but somewhere in his deluded mind he’s hoping he’ll be the best she’s ever had.”

  “Is that what you’re hoping when you go with these women?”

  Landis didn’t reply for several seconds. “I’m not concerned with what pleases them,” she finally said.

  “You know, for someone who takes so much pleasure in judging my choices, you really should take a damn good look at yourself. What happened to you? I remember you pounding me for making fun of you for being a pathetic romantic, with all your drawings and stories of damsels in distress. Now it’s like your only passion is yourself.”

  “Dreams are the first casualty of adulthood.”

  “I know what you mean. I’ve put in plenty of selfish years myself, but it didn’t get me anywhere.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. You earned yourself quite a reputation.”

  Jack stiffened. She was getting fed up with these mind games. Landis clearly knew something about her past—which was bad enough—but why did she have to be so mysterious about it? “Are you going to tell me what you know?”

  “Again, not the right question. But suffice it to say, had it not been you, I would have killed you.”

  The last thing Jack needed right now was yet another cryptic clue she couldn’t decipher. “Will you just tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?” she asked, and took another sip of whisky.

  “I’m not in a hurry.”

  Jack threw a couple of bills on the table when she saw Heather reach for her coat. “Her customer just paid the bill. Fire up the cams. They’re about to come your way. I’ll be there in ten.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Jack wasn’t sure if the sarcasm was meant for her or because of what Landis was about to see.

  Chapter Sixteen

  eather would be there soon. Chase had to quickly figure out what the problem was with the camera she’d placed where Dario was about to plant his ass. “Why is the damn picture so dark?” she complained aloud. The four-way split screen showed the two entrance camera views clearly, as well as the bedroom, but the adjoining watcher’s room was black. She adjusted the brightness settings on the monitor, but that didn’t help, so she slapped it on the side. “What is wrong with this piece of—” As she reached behind the monitor to check the connections, she knocked over her coffee, then jumped as the scalding liquid landed in her lap.

  “Goddamn it,” she said between gritted teeth as she dabbed at the wet spot with napkins left from lunch. The effort did nothing to stop the pain or reduce the now-impressive wet spot highlighting her groin. “Screw it.” She flung the napkins across the van and turned back to the monitor as a cab pulled into the brownstone’s driveway.

  The taxi was the fourth vehicle to park in the private lot at the back within the last half hour. She’d given all the previous license plate numbers to Reno, along with pics of the guys she’d captured on the rear-entrance camera. Any of them could be their man. Tracing the taxi would probably be useless in IDing its
passenger, so she focused closely on the camera view to get whatever she could on this john. When she saw him emerge, she relaxed. This guy was probably not worth tracking, anyway. He was in a wheelchair, pushed by a male escort. As they came up the back ramp, she tried to at least get a picture, but the angle of the cam wasn’t set low enough to see the invalid’s face.

  A couple of minutes later, Chase caught more movement on the rear-entrance cam. The image was dark, but clear enough for her to recognize Heather with her client. She subconsciously moved closer to the monitor. The john had his arm around Heather’s waist and seemed clueless that Heather’s smile was forced. “Oblivious fool,” Chase said. They were just going in when Jack knocked on the side of the van. Chase opened the door without looking, her gaze still fixed on the monitor. “She’s in,” she said, and sat back down.

  She felt Jack’s stare and turned. Though it was dark in the van, enough light spilled from the monitor that she could clearly see the huge wet spot on her crotch.

  Jack grinned. “Knew a dog once that reacted the same way whenever she saw me.”

  “Coffee.”

  “I bet it’s driving you crazy you can’t change.”

  Chase realized, for the first time since the incident, that she hadn’t even given her pants a second thought. “I’m coping.”

  “I bet you’re struggling against all sorts of hell to stay calm.”

  “I only do that where you’re involved.”

  “I think it’s precious how I can make you feel such intense emotions.”

  “Four clients arrived. One of them is our man.” Chase drummed her fingers impatiently on the console.

  “Do you mind?”

  “What?”

  “The tapping.”

  Chase looked at her hand and with effort stopped her drumming. “I’m done.” She reached for the headsets and put them on.

  “Can you stop the mind games and tell me what you know about me?” Jack asked.

  “I’m not in the mood to talk about you.” Chase focused on the monitor windows showing the watcher’s room and adjoining bedroom.

  Jack leaned closer to the screen. “What’s wrong with the cam in the private room?”

  “I just heard the door open and close, but he apparently doesn’t want the lights.”

  “Damn.” Jack put on her headset.

  “We’ll get his face on the way out,” Chase said. “He has to go to his car.”

  Heather’s voice interrupted them and they turned to the monitor. “Can I get you something to drink?” Heather asked her client as he helped her with her coat.

  The lighting in the bedroom was tastefully subdued, but bright enough for Chase to get her first clear look at Heather in her call-girl persona. She was dressed in a spaghetti-strap black dress with a plunging neckline, made of a shimmery fabric that clung to every curve. Four-inch spike heels and the high hem of the dress commanded adoration of her long legs. Her makeup was different, and she exuded a very powerful yet provocative aura.

  “Like I said, you wouldn’t recognize her,” Jack remarked.

  Heather was the sexiest woman Chase had ever seen.

  “I’ll have some Scotch if you have any,” the john said as he placed some bills on the bedside table.

  Heather walked to the minibar and poured him a double.

  “Am I drinking alone? he asked.

  Heather handed him his glass. “I never really developed a taste for whisky.”

  “How can anyone not like Scotch?” Jack asked.

  “I don’t,” Chase replied.

  “That’s just wrong.”

  The man downed the drink and set the glass on the nightstand on top of the money, making sure Heather saw the cash. Then he put his hands on her waist. “Are we good to go?”

  “What a douche,” Jack said. “Good to go, who says that?”

  “Someone who pays by the hour.”

  Heather looked seductively toward the two-way mirror.

  “You look beautiful as always, Amber. You may begin,” a deep male voice said. “And fella, no kissing.”

  Chase tweaked the audio settings. Dario’s voice was coming in hot because it was being picked up both on the bug she’d placed in the watcher’s room and a speaker in the bedroom.

  Heather nodded and started to unbutton the john’s shirt. Chase clenched her fist till her knuckles turned white.

  “What would you like tonight?” Heather asked. The client was about to answer when she placed her finger on his mouth and looked toward the mirror again.

  “I want him to slowly remove your lovely dress,” the disembodied voice instructed her.

  Heather turned to expose her back to the john. He slowly unzipped her and lowered the straps of her dress, then kissed her shoulder and slid his hands around to the front of Heather’s body.

  Chase quickly lowered her head in search of her cup. “I need more coffee.” She threw the empty cup across the van.

  “I suppose you could suck it off your pants,” Jack replied, never looking away from the monitor.

  “Turn around and let him remove your garment,” Dario said.

  Chase looked back at the monitor. Heather turned, now facing the camera, with the guy behind her. The john pulled the dress off her shoulders and down her body. Beneath, she wore a sheer, lace-trimmed black thong and matching bra. As she stepped out of the dress, the man ogled Heather’s body, his arousal evident. Heather continued to stare at the mirror with a look of desire.

  “I think the guy’s about to have a coronary,” Jack said.

  “Take off his shirt and trousers, Amber,” Dario said.

  Heather turned toward her customer with a practiced smile, one Chase had seen on call girls many times before. After she removed his shirt, she unbuckled his belt and knelt to slowly pull down his pants.

  “Reindeer boxers? Really, dude?” Jack laughed.

  Chase threw the headphones on the console and stood up. “I don’t need to see this. Besides it’s not like we can see the mystery man.”

  “Why do I have to watch?” Jack asked.

  “I thought you enjoyed porn.”

  “I can’t say porn is on my mind when I’d rather be doing everything possible to get my girl back. Besides, the magic’s gone once you get to know them. Don’t you think?”

  “Then don’t watch,” Chase almost pleaded.

  “Okay, relax. I won’t.” Jack sounded concerned. “You all right?”

  “We both know how the movie ends. I doubt anything enlightening will take place while they…whatever.” Chase couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Jack turned off the cam in Heather’s room but kept her headphones on. “I’m keeping the audio just in case something comes up. I mean—”

  “I know what you mean.” Chase sat back down and looked at the other camera views. She checked her watch.

  “Another forty-five minutes,” Jack said.

  Chase ran her fingers through her hair. “At least we’re getting Dario’s voice recorded.”

  “That’s for sure. The guy won’t stop talking.” Jack listened for another couple of minutes. “He’s damn…verbal about what he wants.”

  “I bet.” Chase tried to sound nonchalant while she fought the urge to leave the van and pace up and down the street.

  Jack leaned back in her chair, hands supporting her head. Her expression was neutral as she listened in and glanced occasionally at what the other cameras were picking up.

  Chase was glad she didn’t have to hear or see Heather, but she couldn’t help stealing glances at Jack now and then. Chase cringed when Jack lifted one eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing wrong.” Jack tried to sound disinterested. “Just the usual stuff.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He’s not hurting her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “To each her own.”

  “What’s that?” Jack looked at her.

  Chase sighed. “I said I’m not worried. I
t’s her life. If this is how she chooses to live it, then so be it.”

  “You don’t need to feign indifference for my sake.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Could have fooled me.” Jack sounded sincere. “Bet you never viewed them as real people before.”

  “I’ve always treated them with respect.”

  “What’s different about this one?”

  “I’m not sure. Something’s just not right about her doing this.”

  “She seems damn proficient at it.”

  “She’s miserable about having to sell herself. I can see the fear in her eyes. She’s terrified someone will make her. She can’t trust that anyone might be interested in anything but sex with her.”

  “Aren’t they all?” Jack asked.

  “I…I don’t know. There’s something very pure about this one.”

  “If that’s true, then she’s unfortunately just as apt at hiding her real nature as you are.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Both of you treat sex as a means to a goal, without taking the consequences into consideration.”

  “What consequences?” Chase asked.

  “How much your genuine nature gets obscured in your pursuit to justify what you do.”

  Chase wanted to give Jack points for not giving her a hard time about refusing to participate in the bedroom surveillance. And she knew Jack probably meant well with her pronouncements about Chase burying her real needs. But she was in no mood to get analyzed. Not right now. “Which is your true nature, Jack?” she asked. “The deserter, the liar, or the paid assassin?”

  Jack shrugged. “Why ask, when you’ve already made up your mind I’m all three?”

  “Because I’m curious if you’re as much of an expert with self-analysis.”

  “Maybe someday when you’re done judging me, I’ll tell you what happened,” Jack said.

  “I’m sure it’ll be a touching story, but frankly, there’s no excuse for hurting innocent people.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? Not a day goes by I don’t regret the things I’ve done. But I refuse to apologize for leaving the EOO. Not after how that shit of a human treated me.”