by D J Small
Eliza’s face scrunched up as confusion came over her. “Why is that?”
Devon stood up and expelled a long breath. “Due to the victim’s occupation.”
Not following where he was going, Eliza gestured for him to continue.
Devon looked at her with a flat stare. “The victim was a licensed sex professional. I came across instruments of her trade while searching for hazardous items and identification. They led me to believe that she may have dabbled in BDSM and rougher sex. If the bruises on her body were there before, it narrows down the cause of death to strangulation, since the age of the bruises around her neck coincide with the onset of rigor. If the bruises on her body were sustained at the time of death, then we’ll need to examine the body further to determine how they played a part in her death, or if they were just a professional hazard, if you get my drift.”
“I do,” Eliza stated brusquely as she stared down at Angelique’s body. When sex work was legalized, Eliza hadn’t been on board with the new laws. In some ways, she still wasn’t, but that was due to her own morals. She understood the arguments for and against legal sex work, and while she didn’t hide behind the standard religious rhetoric, Eliza couldn’t bring herself to be okay with it as a legitimate profession. To her, it seemed like an easy, desperate way to earn income, and the fact that there were people in society who willingly sold themselves for sex bothered her. She blamed her Catholic upbringing for her conservative stance on the issue.
“So, we’re dealing with a client gone bad kinda situation, huh?”
“I don’t know, Detective, you tell me, since that is your job,” Devon sniped.
Eliza stared him down. The urge to call him a sniveling piece of shit sat on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down. Once she felt like her composure and professionalism would hold, she said, “Thank you for the information, Devon. When you have finished analyzing everything, can you make sure her appointment book gets to me, along with her client list if you find it? Please?”
Being cordial towards him left a bitter taste in Eliza’s mouth, and she left the room after making her request. Had she remained in it, she would have called him something worse than that.
Shaking off her irritation, Eliza looked for Billy, and she found him standing in the middle of the kitchen with a stack of mail in his left hand. “Where the fuck did you go?” she snapped. “I told you to talk to him while I looked around, not the other way around.”
Billy grimaced. “It looked like you had everything under control.” Before Eliza could go on a tirade, he held up a piece of mail. “This is a letter from Pleasure Inc., and it’s postmarked with last Thursday’s date. It’s a reminder for Angelique’s mandatory six-month testing for them and the licensing board.”
Eliza stared at him, waiting for Billy to say something that would make her forget about reporting him.
“This firm is in Manhattan, and I think we should go check it out. It looks like she was affiliated with them.”
Eliza’s scowl remained etched on her face, and her eyes continued to bore into Billy as she thought about his suggestion. It was a good starting point for them considering Angelique’s apartment didn’t have many clues, so it seemed Billy had earned his badge today.
She stared at him for another second, then glanced at her watch. It was almost seven. Eliza didn’t know if the place would be open or not; she didn’t know how sex firms operated.
“Do you think they’re still open?” she asked Billy doubtfully.
“I’m not certain, but I don’t see any harm in checking it out,” Billy said, sounding more relaxed than he should have been. Eliza may have changed her mind about reporting him, but he was still on her shit list.
She eyed him skeptically, then yanked the letter out of his hand, tossing it on the kitchen counter. “Let’s go.”
As they walked out of the kitchen, Eliza shouted, “Devon, I want those books as soon as you’re done!”
“Whatever, Miller.”
Eliza pursed her lips as she took off her gloves. The moment they stepped into the building’s hallway, she tossed her gloves into a trash bag and cuffed Billy across the back of the head.
“That’s for leaving me to talk to Devon.” She took the coverings on her shoes off and added, “You’re doing the detailed reports for our last two cases, and if they don’t meet my standards, you’re doing them again. Got it?”
Billy rubbed the back of his head and frowned. “Yeah, I got it. Damn, you’re a hard-ass sometimes.”
“I’ll be an even bigger hard-ass if you do that again,” Eliza countered, stalking away from Billy as he got rid of his own gloves and shoe coverings. In truth, she wasn’t that upset with him—Devon could have been a bigger pain in the ass, he was just extremely whiny today—but it was the principle of the matter. She was the senior detective, and Billy was supposed to follow her orders; it was a respect thing.
When Eliza walked out of the building and onto the front stoop, she automatically pulled up the collar of her coat and hunched her shoulders. The cold was an instant shock to her system, and she started grumbling to herself about how she should have moved to Florida while walking to the car.
◊◊◊
Pleasure Inc. occupied the top two floors of a moderately-sized office building located in Lower Manhattan. The building itself was twelve stories tall and primarily made of brick, unlike the all-glass skyscrapers that surrounded it.
Eliza peered up at it as she got out of the car. “I guess if you’re operating a sex firm, you can’t have all that glass,” she commented absently.
“If you were higher up, you could,” Billy remarked with a laugh. “Especially if some of your clients are exhibitionists. All that glass could come in handy then.”
Eliza lowered her head, turning it slightly to stare at Billy. “Have you...” She paused, recognizing how many lines her question crossed, but quickly decided to continue—she already had one foot in the door. “Have you been to a sex firm before, Billy?”
Clearly affronted by the question, Billy sucked in a breath and placed his hand on his chest. “Are you asking me if I’ve ever paid for sex?”
Eliza honestly didn’t know why she had posed the question, but as she contemplated it, she realized that was exactly what she wanted to know. She nodded.
“No. I have never—and will never—pay for sex.” He let out an indignant snort. “I am very capable of getting laid for free. However,” he held up a finger, “when prostitution was legalized, I thought about opening my own firm.” He released a wistful sigh. “I had a great business model and everything, but there is way too much fucking paperwork for my liking, then you have to deal with the state and the feds...it’s too much damn work, and we both know I don’t like to do more than I have to.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Eliza muttered. When the question had popped into her head, she hadn’t known what Billy’s response would be, and his answer, while tame, made her wish she hadn’t asked it. Her partner’s sex life wasn’t any of her business and asking about it violated a strict code between partners—at least, that’s what Eliza told herself. What Billy did outside of work was none of her concern; he was a grown ass man. She cleared her throat and mumbled, “We should go in.”
Billy chuckled as they made their way into the building. “Have you?” he asked in a low voice once they were inside.
“Have I what?” Eliza said. She knew damn well what he was talking about but refused to engage in such a conversation; even though she had started it.
“Paid for sex.”
Knowing the question was coming didn’t stop the horrified expression from taking over her face. Eliza stopped walking and stared at him. This was what she got for crossing the line with Billy. After failing to stutter a coherent response a few times, she hissed, “I would never.”
Billy laughed at her reaction. “Oh, so it’s okay for you to ask me such a question, but if I ask you, it’s a crime against humanity?” He laughed so
me more, and as he caught his breath he said, “Eliza, it’s not that big of a deal. I mean, it sort of is, but it’s getting better.”
The shocked expression remained on Eliza’s face, and Billy chuckled.
“I don’t understand why you’re acting weird about it. Unless you have a problem with prostitutes or something?”
Eliza continued walking, determined to forget this conversation and the embarrassment that had come over her. Using long strides, she walked over to the bank of elevators that was off to the left of the empty security desk, and when she reached them, Eliza pushed the up button repeatedly.
Billy came to a stop next to her and asked quietly, “Do you have a problem with prostitutes and those that utilize their services?”
The chime announcing the elevator’s arrival sounded, and the shiny steel doors glided open. They got onto the elevator, and as she pushed the button for the eleventh floor, Eliza used the moment to formulate a response to Billy’s question. “I do not have a problem with sex workers as people,” she began shortly. “My issue is that I just don’t get why someone would do that willingly. It’s demeaning. As for those who use their services, what people do in their free time is none of my business, but I believe they are making the problem worse.”
Her explanation was succinct, and Eliza hoped it would be the end of a conversation they shouldn’t even be having. She mentally swore at herself for having started it.
“My,” Billy said as the elevator rose to the eleventh floor. “That has to be the most close-minded thing I have ever heard you say. I thought people like you were open to anything and everything.”
“People like me?” Eliza repeated, unable to keep the shock from her voice.
Billy instantly realized his error and backtracked. “Eliza, you know I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was, aren’t gays and lesbians supposed to be free spirits who are the epitome of open-mindedness?”
Eliza glowered at him as the elevator came to a stop.
“I honestly didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry for my poor choice of words.”
Understanding that Billy had the tendency to put his foot in his mouth sometimes, Eliza silently accepted his apology as they stepped off the elevator. “I’m not a lesbian,” she stated, moving the conversation along. “And I blame my Catholic upbringing for my conservative viewpoint on sex work.”
“You date women,” Billy pointed out.
“I also date men.” Granted, Eliza hadn’t dated a man since high school, but that was neither here nor there, and it didn’t invalidate her sexuality—whatever that was. “I’m fluid, if you must put a label on it. I like people based off of who they are. Yes, I have dated more women than men, but it doesn’t mean anything.” She glared at Billy, annoyed that he had suckered her further into the conversation. “How did we even get on this topic?”
Billy shrugged and said, “Do not know, but I’ll be glad for when it ends—this whole thing is confusing.”
“Consider it ended,” Eliza said. She didn’t understand how her sexuality was confusing, but then again, this was Billy, and he needed everything in small, dumbed-down bites.
They walked down the quiet, tiled corridor, and Eliza noticed the hall looked like one you would find in any typical office building. She had been expecting more garish surroundings, like the kind of decor you’d find in a strip club.
She and Billy reached the solitary glass door at the end of the hall. “Pleasure Inc.” was plastered on it in white, flowing letters, and the only difference was that the P in Pleasure had been filled in with a metallic purple. Peering through the door, Eliza saw a normal reception area, and nothing about it gave off the vibe that she and Billy were entering a sex firm.
Eliza pulled open the door and entered the waiting room, and Billy followed behind her. It was a lot bigger than it had looked out in the hall due to the larger portion of the room being off to the left. The high-vaulted ceilings and the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the room—which gave a wonderful view of the harbor and skyline—added to the open feel of the reception area.
The sitting area was situated in the middle of the room, and a white plush rug covered the black tiled floor, protecting it from the white leather furniture and the glass coffee table that had magazines and newspapers fanned out on it. In the back corner near the windows was a drink cart that offered an array of beverages. Soft music played through speakers that Eliza couldn’t locate.
Eliza and Billy began to make their way to the receptionist’s desk, which sat near the left wall of the waiting room. A woman in a pristine suit sat behind it. The suit looked like it had come fresh from the dry cleaner.
As they approached the desk, Eliza surveyed some of the art hanging on the walls. A few of the pieces were vibrant cityscapes or elegant abstract works, but the rest were either artistic displays of human sexuality or vulgar depictions of sexual acts. The one showing a woman being impaled by a man with an impressive penis made Eliza’s eyebrows jump up to her hairline, and she quickly turned her focus back to the woman behind the desk. The piece of art shouldn’t have surprised her considering where they were, but there were some things Eliza would have been happier not seeing.
When they were close enough, Eliza scrutinized the woman with a careful gaze. Her warm smile accented the glow of her beige skin, and her light eyes sparkled with kindness. Eliza couldn’t help but to be drawn to her.
Lucky for her, Billy was able to make a fool of himself first. He took out his badge and showed it to the woman.
“Hi there,” he said, and his flirtatious tone almost had Eliza rolling her eyes. “We’re detectives with the NYPD, and we’d like to speak with whomever is in charge of this firm.”
Eliza’s left eyebrow went up when she heard Billy use proper English. She had always thought his vernacular only went as far as, ‘See Spot. See Spot run. Run, Spot, run.’
“That would be Veronica Hillbrand,” the young woman said cheerily. “I can see if she’s available to speak you, Detective. May I ask the reason for your visit?”
“It’s an urgent matter,” Eliza replied before Billy could. She didn’t want him derailing the conversation with his gross flirting.
“Of course. One moment, please.” The young woman got up from the desk and headed for the door that was off to the right behind it. The moment the door softly clicked shut behind the woman, Eliza crossed her arms and angled her body so she could stare at Billy.
He glanced at her. “What?”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I was being nice,” he said, waving his hand towards the closed door.
Eliza let out a sharp laugh. “You were being gross.”
Billy grinned. “Girls like gross sometimes.”
Having already reached her limit of having inappropriate conversations with Billy for one day, Eliza shook her head and moved to look at one of the safer pieces of art that hung on the wall near the reception desk. The door reopened moments later, and the young receptionist walked through it with another woman following behind her. This woman was almost the same height as Eliza, but instead of looking like an overworked cop, she looked like she had just stepped off the runway in Milan.
Her flawless pale skin appeared untouched by age, and the way her presence commanded the reception area was incredible. Her dark eyes roamed over Billy first, then she looked at Eliza. With her hand outstretched, she moved closer to them and introduced herself. “Detectives, I’m Veronica Hillbrand, owner and CEO of Pleasure Inc. What may I help you with?”
Eliza took hold of her hand and shook it, a silent indicator to Billy that she would be taking charge of the conversation. More out of habit than needing to actually show it, Eliza took out her badge after releasing Veronica’s hand and held it up for the other woman to inspect. “I’m Detective Miller, and that’s my partner, Detective Chilowski. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”
“Yes, but first, can you tell me if I need to
call my lawyers?” Veronica asked in a clipped tone. Her hard gaze held Eliza’s eyes as she continued, “We are in compliance with all federal and state laws. If this is some sort of sting, I would like to have representation present.”
Eliza gave a curt nod of understanding. “I understand, Ma’am, but this is not regarding any regulatory violations. This is about a member of your staff.”
“Oh?” Veronica’s hard edge softened. “Who? What’s happened?”
“I would prefer that we had this conversation in private, ma’am,” Eliza stated again.
Veronica nodded. “Certainly. Follow me, detectives.”
She looked at the young woman manning the reception desk and said, “Stephanie, please hold my calls while I’m meeting with them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Eliza and Billy followed Veronica through the door behind the desk. As soon as they were on the other side of it, Eliza stopped walking to let her eyes adjust to the lighting of the new area they were in. Unlike the reception area, which had been illuminated by soft track lighting, the space on the other side of the door was barely lit.
Once her eyes had gotten used to the dimness, Eliza looked around to find out why it was so much darker than waiting room. Instead, she found the reason why Pleasure Inc. occupied two floors of the office building. They were currently standing on an upper floor that looked out to a lower one. The lower floor was a miniature club, complete with a full bar, enough seating for twenty or thirty people, and a small dance floor. There was enough lighting for people to see where they were going, but not much else, allowing the shadows to hide any secret advances and touches.
Music with a slow, driving beat and captivating bass played, adding to the seduction and sex that seemed to permeate the air. Eliza walked over to the railing to get a better look of the lower floor. A man and woman sitting on a white leather couch against the far wall in front of the windows caught her attention. They sat closely to one another engaged in a flirtatious conversation—at least that’s what the man’s lingering touches portrayed their engagement as.