Dirty Sexy Murder

by Cathleen Ross

  Detectives Davis and Herbert stood waiting for her like a bad repetitive video.

  “Ms. Henry,” Detective Davis said. His cop gaze flicked over her. Assessing. Calculating. “We’re investigating the murder of Ms. Angela Saxon. We want to talk to you in private.”

  * * * *

  Later that evening Marina stood under the shower letting the hot water gush over her. She massaged her scalp then directed the showerhead onto the back of her neck. Her muscles were bunched with tension. There was no way to expunge the horror she felt at losing Mrs. Saxon.

  Her client had looked forward to her second honeymoon and the rekindling of her dying marriage. Her husband. Her children. They must be devastated. Tears trickled down Marina’s cheeks and were lost in the stream of water.

  Although she knew it was useless, she squeezed her eyes tight, but the tears kept flowing. If only she could have saved Mrs. Saxon. But there had been no evil voice. No premonition. Just an uneasy feeling that something was wrong. How could she stop this murderer when her gift wasn’t consistent? She couldn’t warn every client she had an uneasy feeling about. She’d done her best with Adele and Dani. It wasn’t enough.

  She turned off the shower, shoved aside the shower screen and reached for her towel. The problem was she had no idea how to develop her gift. She rubbed at her arms and legs with the towel. It wasn’t like she could go to a school for psychics.

  Wrapping the towel around herself, she walked into her bedroom and pulled on a silky blue nightgown. The other extravagant buy she’d purchased for her honeymoon. She frowned. There had to be some way to stop these murders. Mrs. Saxon had wanted to know the future. If she had known she was in danger, could she have changed her destiny? Marina had no idea.

  Perhaps. The thought flittered across her mind like a moth. She looked around her for her handbag. Striding across the room she pulled it out of her closet and emptied the complete contents onto the bed. “Where is it?” Her last link with Mrs. Saxon. “Ah, there.” She unfolded a small piece of paper which had a telephone number written on it in Mrs. Saxon’s loopy handwriting. “Evelyn,” she read out. “Maybe you can help me.”

  She pushed her wet hair from her face, then walked into the hallway to the telephone. She punched in the number from the paper.

  “Hello?” A woman’s voice answered. In the background she could hear the voices of children.

  “Hello, Evelyn, I’m Marina. I was given your number by a client, a friend.” Although she didn’t know her well, that was how she’d felt about Mrs. Saxon. “She suggested I contact you.”

  “It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for your call. Your father’s with me at the moment. He’s very concerned about you.”

  “But my father’s dead…” She sank onto the telephone table seat.

  “Of course he is. Why do you think he’s with me? Been following me around for the past few days pestering me. It’s bath time for the kids, but he won’t leave me alone. I told him I don’t call strangers and bother them with dead relative things. They have to call me.”

  Marina shivered. No. It couldn’t be. The rational side of her mind didn’t want to believe. “Are you sure it’s him? What does he look like?”

  “He’s bald. About sixty. Wait a minute. He’s telling me he’s sixty-three and he’s got a pot-belly. It is a pot-belly. Listen here, William, don’t preach at me. Can you believe it? He’s telling me to respect my elders.”

  “Oh.” Shaking, Marina gripped the handle of the telephone so that the knuckles of her hand showed white. “I can’t believe it. It is Dad.” A surge of emotion filled her heart for the man who had adored her. “Tell him I love him.”

  “You can tell him yourself. Look, I have to get these kids in the bath. My address is 17 Round Street, Strathfield. I’m free Thursday after eight. Your father has got something urgent he wants to tell you.” Evelyn paused.

  Marina picked up a pencil and scribbled down the address. In the background, she could hear the sound of children fighting.

  “Will you kids keep it down? I’ve got a dead person here trying to tell me something and a lady on the phone. I can’t hear myself think.”

  Marina’s mind was spinning. She had so many questions, but Evelyn was busy so she said goodbye.

  A key turned in the lock just as she was putting the telephone down. James came inside dressed as usual in his Tae Kwon Do outfit.

  “Hi.” He didn’t smile as he normally did when he greeted her. She could sense the tension between them.

  “Hi.” She’d barely talked to him after his fight. He’d hurt her and he’d hurt Lizzie too.

  “Lizzie home?”

  “No. She phoned in sick to work. I felt bad because Natalia was asking how she was and I didn’t know what to say.”

  “Has she spoken to you?”

  “No. I tried to call her today. Her mobile is off.”

  James nodded. “I tried too.”

  She took a deep breath. Her mind was drained from the emotional wrangling of the day. She didn’t want to fight with James, but there were some things that had to be said. Her blood surged. “You owe your sister an apology and you owe one to me.”

  James’s green eyes flashed. “So Fabio’s not a murderer. I still don’t like him.”

  Marina stood and crossed her arms in front of herself determined to put her point forward. “You were appalling to her last night and you were a pig to me.”

  He looked bewildered. “I wasn’t mean to you or Lizzie.”

  “Fabio was right about you.”

  James’s mouth tightened.

  “You don’t treat Lizzie with respect. The same way you don’t respect my gift or listen to what I have to say.”

  James moved close, but she fought the urge to close the distance and hug him. She’d never tackled the things that worried her in a relationship before. That was her problem. She was like a calm ocean with a dangerous current underneath. Churning.

  “Damn it, Marina. Do you think I want something to happen to you? To Lizzie? I don’t know how to protect you. The bastard’s invisible.” His voice was full of emotion. He walked into his bedroom leaving her standing in the hall. She strode after him, but stopped at the doorway.

  James undid his black belt and peeled off his top. He flexed his muscles, groaned and rubbed his ribs. Just above his six pack was a large blue bruise where someone had made contact. Her fingers itched to stroke it, to rub some Arnica on the bruise, to soothe him. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t let herself.

  “You going to stand there and watch me get changed?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “If that’s what I have to do to stop you avoiding this conversation.”

  So he didn’t want to talk. Tough. Sure she could back away and not talk, but if she did that she’d be leaving her relationship behind. Running away. Again.

  James flicked open his wardrobe-door and pulled out a t-shirt and jeans. His body was so tense she could see the individual contours of his muscles. She knew his skin was like velvet. Heat flared in her groin but she fought against the sensation.

  “Look, I know you’re mad at me. Lizzie is too. The thing is Lizzie always chooses boyfriends who put her down. Just like Dad did. She never talked about plastic surgery until she started dating Fabio. That gets me mad.”

  “You put her down too.”

  “Huh?”

  “I said you put her down too. You tell her to be quiet when’s she’s trying to speak. You did the same to me last night. I’m not going to put up with it.”

  He looked stunned at her accusation. Just stood there staring at her, holding onto his jeans and t-shirt, so she pressed on.

  “I told you last night Fabio is not the murderer.”

  “But that’s because of some airy fairy feeling. I don’t operate like that.”

  Her blood boiled. “I am psychic. That’s who I am. I was right about Fabio.” It took strength to admit it out loud. Strength she didn’t know she possessed. Somehow the admiss
ion brought relief too, like finding out the answer to an illness.

  “Damn it, Marina. You had a feeling.” He pulled on his t-shirt, sliding his arms in first before pulling it over his head.

  She glared at him. “A feeling that was correct. I don’t like being dismissed. It hurts. You hurt me.”

  “I’m sorry.” He held out his arms to her, but she didn’t go to him. “I was so sure it was Fabio I had to nail him.” He balled one hand into a fist and smacked it into the other.

  The cracking sound sent a ripple of irritation down Marina’s spine. She narrowed her eyes determined to make her point. “Did you see how passive he was when you attacked him? He’s gentle. I felt that through his touch. There isn’t a mean bone in that man’s body.” She paused. “There’s confusion. Hurt.”

  “You get that from one touch?” James looked like he wasn’t buying it.

  Emotion welled up inside her. “Listen James, if we have any chance of staying together, then I need you to accept who I am.”

  His arms dropped to his side. He scratched his head. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. You were right about the murder. It’s just something I’m not used to dealing with.” Confusion played on his features. “Damn it. This would be hard for any guy to cope with.”

  Pain squeezed her heart. “Then we have no future together.” She turned on her heel and started to walk away.

  “Marina! Marina, wait. You were right about Lizzie, too. I treat her like a child and she isn’t one. Marina!” He grabbed her arm and turned her around so that she had to face him. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  She pressed her hands against his chest so he couldn’t pull her close. His hard chest was warm. She could feel the heat of it through his t-shirt. He was tempting. “I need you to accept that I’m different.”

  “I do.” He put his arms around her waist. “Look, if it makes you happy, I’ll call Lizzie and apologize. Damn it. I’ll apologize to Fabio again.”

  “I need you to accept what I tell you in future.” She could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted her. But she wasn’t going to let him lure her into his bedroom by pretending he accepted her.

  “I’ll try harder. I will.”

  She sighed. “I couldn’t accept Tony, my ex-fiancé, but I’m working on trying to be more open-minded.” She shrugged off his grip. “I’m different, too. Maybe I don’t deserve to be accepted. I didn’t cope with Tony. I was so mean to him. Cruel.”

  “Most women wouldn’t cope. Okay?” He pulled her in tight so she couldn’t shrug him off. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m so scared I might lose you. Lose Lizzie.” He stroked her hair and kissed her. His kiss was urgent, hot with emotion. He broke the kiss. “You’re handling this far better than I am, Marina. You’re listening to your feelings, acting on them. I get so damned frustrated, I just want to find the murderer and beat the crap out of him.”

  He looked into her face, his eyes pleading forgiveness. He’d cropped his hair shorter than usual and the cut made his features seem more angular. Sexy.

  “I wish it was that simple.” Marina stood on her tiptoes and nuzzled his neck. She liked the way the skin was so soft there. His essence lingered on his throat. She licked him with the tip of her tongue.

  He sighed and his nipples became erect under his t-shirt. “It’s good to come home to you. I’ve had a hell of a day. The cops were in again interviewing my boss. Thankfully, the alibi’s going to stick this time.”

  “So you’re free.”

  “No.” His fingers searched along the nodules of her spine, up and down, up and down. Stroking. Exploring. The silk rubbed against her flesh.

  The heat of his groin seared through her.

  “I’m free when you’re safe. That psycho is still out there. I heard about your client.” He hugged her tight.

  “Poor Mrs. Saxon. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t get a premonition.”

  “You had premonitions with the other ones, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “If only I’d had the premonition, I would have told her about it. Warned her. All she wanted was to be loved and be happy.”

  “That’s what I want.” He feathered light kisses along her forehead.

  “I can tell you’re happy now.”

  “Is that a psychic feeling?”

  “No. There’s something hard pressing into me.”

  “It’s that sensational silk thing you’re wearing.” He put her at arm’s length. “Do you know I can see the outline of your nipples when you wear that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve been walking around the apartment half naked for weeks. That’s torture for a guy like me.”

  “Really? I had no idea.” She bit the insides of her cheeks so she didn’t laugh. “Is this better?” She slipped the blue nightgown over her head and dropped it on the floor.

  James groaned. “Man, you’re a tease.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  He scooped her into his arms. “You’re about to find out.”

  Chapter 18

  “Guess what?” James strode into Lizzie’s bedroom waving the Sydney Morning Herald. “The ‘Brazilian Wax’ murders have made the front page.”

  Lizzie finished setting up the massage bed for Peta’s evening wax appointment and stared at him. After James’s profuse apology both to her and Fabio, she’d decided she liked living with James and Marina more than Fabio, so she’d moved back home. “Doesn’t surprise me.” Mostly she didn’t care about the murders, but Fabs was interested, so she paid attention.

  Marina, who was sorting out the CDs, stared at him also. “It was only a matter of time before that happened.” Her hand rose to her throat.

  Lizzie saw her clutch the Talisman. She noted in approval that Marina wore it constantly. She’d have to remember to wear her own. “What does it say?” Lizzie asked.

  “Do they have a lead on the killer?” Marina asked her eyes wide. She picked at her lower lip.

  Lizzie rolled her eyes. “About time those dumb cops did.”

  “No, worse luck.” He scanned the article. “Hell!” Colour bled from his face.

  “What?” cried Lizzie.

  “It says here that Mrs. Saxon’s was a copycat murder. It’s not the same as the others after all.” He jabbed his index finger at a photo of Mrs. Saxon. “Look here.” He walked in and placed the newspaper on the massage table so they could see it. “The police have arrested her husband.”

  “Mr. Saxon?” Marina asked. “Oh my God.” Her voice rose with a wail. “How could he do that to such a sweet woman?”

  James stared at her, his brow knotted with concern. “Look. Read it yourself.”

  “I knew things weren’t right,” Marina said vehemently. “He didn’t seem to care what she went through to get him to notice her.” Marina walked over and stood beside James.

  Lizzie noticed that Marina stood so close beside James that their bodies were touching. How cute they were.

  “Come on. What does it say?” she asked. She knew she couldn’t read as fast as James and Marina. There were too many big words. She was getting bored with the murders, but Fabs wanted to know every minute detail. He was totally fascinated that all the women had Brazilians. Fabs wanted to watch next time Marina waxed her. She’d told him no way and hit him hard. Next, he’d be asking for a threesome. Like no way was she going there.

  “Oh my God. Poor Mrs. Saxon,” Marina cried as she read the article.

  Lizzie watched her friend’s face. Marina was as pale as milk. “Spill the beans.” She tapped her foot. “I hate reading newspapers.”

  “The article says she was strangled like the others but in a different way.”

  “Wonder what they mean by that?” Lizzie said. “How many ways could he strangle someone?”

  “It doesn’t say,” Marina said.

  Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “Remember Fabs said that there was something kinky about the way the others were strangled.”
r />   “Yuck.” Marina shuddered. She turned back to the article. “It says here Mrs. Saxon’s neighbor became suspicious when he saw Mr. Saxon at the airport with a girl half his age. He’d been having an affair for six months.”

  “What a bastard,” Lizzie said, picking up the pot of strip wax and slamming it down on the massage bench. How like a man to get sick of a woman and move on. Nothing ever satisfied them for long. The thought worried her. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do next to satisfy Fabs. The dye and wax job had been terrific, but she was running out of ideas. How could she keep his attention on her and not pornography?

  Marina pushed the newspaper away. “I can’t bear to read about it. It’s just too horrible.”

  James picked the paper up, his knuckles white as he re-read the article.

  Lizzie frowned. Marina looked like she was going to cry.

  “Poor Mrs. Saxon. Do you remember her?” Marina asked Lizzie.

  Lizzie nodded as she thought of the overweight blonde with the nice face. She had looked better in the hipster jeans Lizzie had seen her wearing at her last appointment, since she’d lost a little bit of weight.

  “She so wanted to save her marriage,” Marina said. Her hands twisted in dismay. She brought them to her chest. There were tears welling in her eyes.

  Lizzie picked up a rabbit, one of the soft toys that sat in a jumble on the end of her unmade bed, and threw it at her.

  Bonk! It bounced off Marina’s head.

  Marina jumped. Her eyes widened with surprise. “Lizzie!”

  “You get too involved with your clients. I mean, I’m sorry another one’s been knocked off, but you can’t let it get to you.” She walked up and pulled up the pink bed duvet and stuffed her short pajamas under her pillow. She didn’t want Peta to see she was a slob.

  “But this is number three.” Marina’s lips were pinched together. With jerky movements, she picked up the stuffed rabbit and put it back on the end of Lizzie’s bed.

  “It’s not number three. It’s a copycat murder.”

  “It’s my third client,” Marina protested. “I can’t believe your attitude. How would you feel if it was your clients being killed?”