by Taylor Lee
Once she discovered the truth about Drew’s wealth or lack of it, she’d moved on to Mike Peterson. She’d tired of Mike Peterson within mere weeks of marrying him. To her astonishment, he tried to limit extracurricular activities. Threatened to cut her allowance. Jesus, had he really thought she would be faithful? To him? If she hadn’t been faithful to Nate Stryker, it was laughable she’d be faithful to him. The idea of spending her life with a loser no matter how wealthy, was anathema. Fortunately, Mike was a trusting loser. Unlike his father or grandfather, business bored him. It stood in the way of his drinking, gambling, and designer drugs. When she suggested she manage his various trusts and foundations, he was grateful, and dismissive, assuming she’d tire of it in weeks. As usual, he underestimated her. Within months she’d fired his longstanding accountant, replaced him with one of her fuck buddies, and she was off to the races. Now less than two years into the venture, she had amassed a fortune all safely ensconced in off-shore accounts in Mike’s name. Accounts that Mike never knew existed.
It could have collapsed like a house of cards when Sherman Klein, Mike’s business partner, uncovered her theft. The fucker actually planned to blackmail her. Fortunately she’d heard rumors about his interest in BDSM. She hadn’t known she was a dominatrix at heart, but soon reveled in her hastily acquired role. Within weeks, she had more on Sherm than he had on her. With their mutual fear of exposure, they became uneasy partners. Sherm turned out to be helpful. He was much more attuned to the business than Mike was and had been the brains behind their rapid expansion. Life was good. Sex was interesting, and Mike was oblivious. And then the house of cards did collapse. One of the trustees who’d known Mike’s father raised questions about the volatility of their investments. While Mike didn’t like business, he did like money. With the help of a couple of the old timers, and the accountant she’d fired, Mike figured out the losses. But he jumped to the wrong conclusion. Assuming that Sherman Klein was stealing him blind, he went to his house to confront him and got the shock of his life. Laura still smiled when she thought about the scene Mike confronted. She was wearing her leather bustier, leather skirt that revealed her bare ass, thigh-high Stiletto boots and holding a vicious-looking one tail. But it was Sherm who stole the show. Hung spread-eagled on the St. Andrew’s cross in his dungeon playroom, Sherm was wearing nothing but nipple clamps, a cock and ball cage and the red-striped marks of her flogger.
It took Mike a day to come to grips with the truth of the situation. Making the worst decision of his life, he prepared to expose them both.
Laura had no choice. Mike needed to go.
~~~
Laura glared at her caller ID. Seeing that it was Sherm, not the sniveling pint-sized surgeon, she decided to answer. At the sound of his frantic voice she wondered if it was too late to hang up, pretend the call died. She groaned at his hysterical rant ringing in her ears. God, was she the only one among them who had any balls?
“Laura, Stryker is on to us! Christ, already the fucker is on to us!”
Laura strived for patience, for calm.
“Settle down, Sherm. What happened? Take a breath, baby, and tell me what happened?”
She pictured him running his hands through his thinning hair, his ruddy face pale and sweaty, his lips trembling, his hands shaking. Worried frown lines deepening the wrinkles on his smoke and sun damaged skin. Sherm wasn’t ugly, just not handsome. Thank God at least he was tall and made minor attempts at staying in shape—unlike most of the men she slept with. She’d learned that was the disadvantage of having wealth as the criterion by which she chose them. They seemed to believe that a well-stocked bank account made up for a gut hanging over their belt. Sherm’s eighteen holes of golf three days a week kept him from going to fat, although he spent most of the time in a golf cart. Laura sneered knowing that the primary reason that he hadn’t let himself go was that the BDSM scene—his true avocation—required him to be naked. Laura could give or take the BDSM scene but for Sherm it was a key part of his identity.
Sherm moaned, “He grilled me, interrogated me! Damn, it was as though he already knew everything and was trying to trap me. Set me up!”
“Breathe, Sherm. Take a deep breath and settle down. Of course, he is trying to trap you. That’s what he does. That’s why people are afraid of Nate. But you knew that, Sherm. How many times did I tell you? Tell you that your story had to be foolproof. Airtight. And baby, as many times as we practiced it, I can tell you it is. Now, take a breath and tell me what happened.”
Sherm’s quavering voice settled somewhat.
“Out of the blue, when I least expected it, he asked me how long I’d known that Mike was into BDSM. Can you believe that? As if I knew. Don’t you see? If he thinks I know, then he believes that the way I know is because… oh God.”
Laura almost yelled.”Damn it, Sherm. You are being ridiculous. It’s a technique. It’s the way Nate operates. Now for the last time, tell me—from the beginning—what happened. From the beginning, Sherm. Did Nate start with questions about Mike’s sex life? Where did he begin?”
Laura heard the distinctive sounds of Sherm cracking open a bottle and the splurge of liquid hitting a glass. She assumed Sherm was hitting his stash of expensive booze—a proclivity he shared with Mike. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer, more like the consummate businessman she begrudgingly admired. Laura sent up a prayer of thanks to the gods of intoxication. Now if he could just keep from passing out.
“You’re right, Laura. I… I let my fear about exposure get the best of me. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t act this way with Stryker. I was more like myself. Stronger, in control.”
Laura grimaced, glad that Sherm couldn’t see her reaction. What Sherm didn’t know was that Nate had an unerring sense of hidden motives. An uncanny ability to see beneath the surface of a witness. He could often drag things out of them, trip them up before they were aware of what he was doing. That was his special skill. Sherm might not think that he showed his fear but it was certain that if he was feeling it, Nate saw it. Rather than dwell on things she couldn’t control, she made herself listen to Sherm’s version of the interview. She knew Nate’s would be different.
His voice was stronger, more certain, assuming the self-important air of a business leader. “No, you’re right, Laura. He spent most of the time asking about the business. Christ, Laura, they already know about all the off-shore accounts. It took them less than twenty-four fucking hours to figure out the whole damn scam. Incredible! But you would have been proud of me, Laura. I acted shocked as though I didn’t believe that Mike would do such a terrible thing. Rob his own company. I kept asking, ‘Why? Why would he do that? He didn’t need more money.’ I was good on that part. Hell, I almost convinced myself that I was hearing it for the first time.” His tone warmed. “You would have been proud of me, Laura.”
Laura rolled her eyes derisively. She doubted that, but at least he had his confidence back. “What else did he ask? More about the money?”
“No. That was when he suddenly asked me about Mike’s ‘sexual practices.’ Except that he just tossed it out there. Asked how long I’d known that Mike was into BDSM?”
“Sherm, you have to know that is a classic interrogation technique. I assume you said you were as shocked as anyone to find out that might be the case.”
“Yes. I did what you said. What you told me to say. I told them the first I knew he might be doing that was when I heard about how he was killed.”
“Good. What else? Did he ask any more about the money?”
“No… uh, sort of. He asked me if Mike seemed nervous, on edge, secretive? If I’d noticed a difference… if he was having private conversations. He also asked if Mike seemed to need money, if he mentioned wanting to borrow money for his personal use. I told him that I wouldn’t know. If Mike wanted more money for anything, he just took it. Often didn’t put it on the books. I told Stryker that it had always been that way.”
Laura was triumphant. “So i
n other words, Sherm, it was just as we planned. Just as we planted the seed. Nate is trying to figure out if Mike was being blackmailed, and by whom.”
Sherm’s voice sounded almost normal. Tinkling ice and the splash of liquid confirmed that he was making good use of the courage in his glass.
He gave a heavy sigh. “God, Laura, I think you’re right. The more I think about it that is what that asshole Stryker was doing. I just got freaked when he started quizzing me about BDSM—as if he thought I knew something about it.”
“Sherm, of course, Nate wanted to see if you ‘knew’ about Mike’s kinky practices. If anyone would know, it would be his partner. You know that’s what Dan will be asking me about this afternoon. What else did he ask about the money?”
“He wanted to know about our new accountant. Why we hired him. I told him that was totally Mike’s decision and that I had argued against it but that Mike was adamant that we get new blood.”
Laura gushed, “See, baby? You were wonderful. I knew you would be. You’re not going to let that badass Nate Stryker get the best of you. I’m proud of you, sugar buns.”
She could almost see Sherm sticking out his chest like a proud peacock. If only he knew how she really felt about him.
“You’re right, Laura. The more I think about it, I don’t think that fucking smartass is on to anything except what we want him to be. Now it’s up to you Laura, to reinforce all the good headway I made. You have your interview coming up.”
“I know, honey. But it’s with Dan. Nate knows better than to get in the same room with me. But you’re right. Now all we have to do is continue to be shocked, horrified about what we are just now finding out about Mike. Remember Sherm, our alibis are airtight. You stayed at the club after we had dinner and at least five other members of the club saw you there. Remember, that. Your alibi and mine are airtight.” She added, “It would be good for you to remember something else, Sherm. I don’t make mistakes.”
His voice quivered seductively. “I love it when you are stern with me, Laura.”
She deepened her voice, made it hard, cold. Hearing the arousal in his voice, she was certain that he was stroking himself. She hid her disgust.
“Yes. Sherman. I am very unhappy with you. You allowed Nate Stryker to get to you. After I warned you, coached you. You know what that means, don’t you, Sherman?”
His voice was heavy with excitement, “Yes, yes, Laura. I know what that means.” His voice rose with to a plea. “Tonight?”
“Yes, Sherman. Tonight. At my house. Nine o’clock. Don’t be late.”
Chapter 15
“May I come in, Nate?”
For a split second, her sultry voice threw Nate back in time. But when he looked up and saw the woman in the doorway, he felt nothing but disgust. As he had yesterday, he was struck by how transparent she was and how practiced. Everything about Laura screamed one thing and one thing only. Sex. From her torrent of thick blond hair, her micro mini-skirt that landed six inches below her ass, to her skimpy tank top that revealed the wonder of her lush breasts, she was an open invitation. Forget how inappropriate her five-inch platform sandals were, or how heavily she applied her stage make-up to come to the police station. Laura standing in his doorway meant one thing: She wanted something. And true to form, she came dressed for the occasion.
Nate leaned back in his chair, not hiding his annoyance.
“What can I do for you, Laura?”
Laura pulled back at his tone.
“Uh… uh, Naomi said you were alone. I… I….”
Nate gave a heavy sigh. “Just because there is no one in my office, it doesn’t mean that I’m not busy. What do you want?”
If he didn’t know better, Nate might have thought that her stammer and uncertainty were signs of fear or hesitation, but he did know better. Rising from his chair, he rounded his desk and leaned against it, his arms folded over his chest.
“Dan told me that you brought your schedule as I requested. Thank you. I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. I won’t until Dan and his men have had preliminary conversations with the individuals you listed. Depending on how soon they conclude those interviews, we’ll set up a time to meet with you. Likely sometime tomorrow morning. But given that you already know that, you must have another reason for coming to my office.”
He pinned her with a hard gaze and lowered his voice.
“What do you want, Laura?”
If she didn’t hear the threat in it, he’d lost his touch. Her surprised expression confirmed that he hadn’t.
“I… I… wanted to talk to you, Nate. Um… privately.”
He didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her, his guard in place. Goddammit, she was up to something, that was for sure.
Her lip trembled, again a practiced gesture that in the past had his dick rising like a flag at reveille. Now it just annoyed the hell out of him.
“I was hoping that you and I could talk, Nate. We haven’t talked or been together since you got home.”
He snorted. “No, Laura, we haven’t. For more good reasons than I have in this lifetime to list.”
When a cloud of what was supposed to be pain crossed her lovely face, he drew himself up and glared at her.
“I don’t know what you are up to, Laura. But hear me, and hear me well. I am leading the investigation of your husband’s murder. As I told you yesterday, you are our primary witness. Everything that you say to me not only will be in the presence of others but will also be recorded and transcribed. Now if you don’t mind—”
Before he could finish his sentence, to his surprise she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck. The tears were too sudden to be real, but her sob sounded authentic.
“Oh Nate, please, please hold me. Hold me like you used too. I’m scared, Nate, so scared. Please hold me. Like this, yes, just like this.”
As she sobbed she tightened her grip, pressing her luscious body against his. Nate stiffened and grabbed at her arms to push her away just as he heard the loud gasp.
He looked up to see Erin standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock, her hand covering her mouth. She paled and swerved as if she might fall. With a soft cry she turned and ran to the hallway.
Horrified, Nate shoved Laura aside and raced after Erin. The elevator door closed behind her as he banged helplessly on the metal door. He saw the directional arrows light one floor after the other and knew that she would be on the first floor before he could get to the stairs. Goddamn her. How could she leave like that? How could she misunderstand something so transparent as Laura. Which reminded him. With a mighty effort he controlled his fury enough to return to his office.
Laura was standing in the hallway outside his office door. When she saw him she smoothed her expression. Dismay flooded her face.
“Oh, God, Nate. Oh my God, Erin must have thought… I’m sorry, Nate….”
He grabbed hold of her arm and jerked her toward him.
“No you’re not.”
When she gasped and started to reply, he hissed at her, “Be quiet. Don’t even speak Erin’s name. Do you hear me? You’re not fit to speak her name. Do you hear me? I’m warning you, Laura. Leave her alone. And leave me alone. Do you understand?”
She twisted away then wobbled dangerously on her high heels. She caught his shoulder to keep from falling. He steadied her and then pushed her away.
Barely able to contain his rage, he spoke quietly, his voice was silky smooth, laced with a dangerous undercurrent. “Leave. Now. Laura. Dan will schedule our interview. Now. Go.”
When she turned to leave she lifted her chin a scant inch. He didn’t miss the gleam in her eyes that disappeared as quickly as it came. She hesitated then smiled, looking like the deceitful bitch that she was. Her voice was soft, slightly mocking.
“I look forward to our interview.” She added her lip curling derisively, “I hope that Erin didn’t misunderstand, Nate.”
Nate watched her sashay down the
hallway, her hips undulating from side to side. He was sickened by the heads that turned in admiration. God, he’d once been one of those heads and worse. And now the bitch had stolen into the space around him that he and Erin had created. A space of love and trust and joy. None of which was on Erin’s shocked face as she’d run down the hallway to the elevator.
Knowing that the Chief and Sam were waiting in the mayor’s conference room, Nate didn’t try to go after Erin. He flipped on his phone and hit her number, it went straight to voicemail. He left an impassioned message filled with fury and frustration. Telling her she had misunderstood. But he knew words were useless. The only way he could get her to understand was in person. And even if he was lucky, the soonest that would be was four hours from now.
Nate stuck his head through the doorway to his outer office and shrugged at the expression on Naomi’s face.
“I’m meeting with the Chief and the mayor, Naomi, and then with the coroner.”
Naomi nodded. Her face was tight with strain. As he left she called out to him.
“Nate?”
Surprised at her use of his first name, he frowned. She usually called him Detective, or behind his back, the ‘big dog.’