Murderous Profession

by D J Small

  So much for Dax being able to give her more information about Angelique’s clients. Eliza released a quiet breath. “Did the two of you ever entertain clients together?”

  Dax shook his head, and then he tilted it back and squeezed his eyes shut. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, Eliza saw a single tear roll out of the corner of his left eye and down his temple. He drew in a deep breath through his nose, and Eliza gave him a moment to compose himself.

  A few minutes passed before Dax drew in another deep breath and lowered his head. “Our clientele differed greatly,” he murmured. He opened his eyes and looked down at the table again. “I apologize for all the emotion, but—” Dax stopped as his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and swallowed. “It’s too much.”

  “I understand,” Eliza said with a sympathetic nod. “Take all the time you need.”

  Dax’s lips barely formed a wan smile. “Thank you.” He stood from the chair and moved to pace the area behind it.

  Eliza didn’t want to push the grieving man further, but she needed information. She let a respectful amount of time pass before she asked, “Do you remember the last time you spoke with Angelique?”

  Dax stopped pacing and stared at the gray cement wall. He turned and said, “Yesterday. Sometime after noon, I think.” He ran a hand over his shaved head. “I’d have to check my phone to get you the exact time.”

  “If you could, please,” Eliza requested as gently as possible. Dax stared at her, and Eliza said, “We need all available information so we can figure out who could have done this.”

  “All right,” Dax said with a sigh. He reached into the front pocket of his slacks and pulled out a sleek black phone. Eliza watched as his thumb skimmed over the screen, and after a couple of taps he said in a clipped tone, “She called me at one fifty-seven, and the conversation lasted about forty-five minutes.”

  “Thank you.” Eliza wrote the information down on the inside of the manila folder. She would let Dax’s attitude slide. He was grieving, and it entitled him to be short with her, but only for the moment. “Do you remember what you two spoke about?”

  Dax blew out a forceful breath. “Our conversation didn’t focus on anything significant. It was just one of our usual phone calls.” He slipped his phone back into the pocket of his slacks, keeping his hand there. “We complained about work. Angie said something about a party Pleasure Inc. is throwing at one of the clubs to drum up—”

  Eliza looked up from her notes upon Dax’s abrupt stop. “Mr. Collins?”

  Dax focused on her and frowned. “I may have remembered something.”

  “Which is?”

  Dax walked over to the empty chair and sat down. “During our phone call, Angie told me about one of her clients.” He pressed his lips together and a glint of apprehension formed in his eyes.

  Eliza did her best to keep her frustration at bay as she waited for him to continue, but she could only contain it for so long. Her need for a real lead eventually won out, and she said, “If know something that can help me find Angelique’s murderer, you need to tell me, Mr. Collins.”

  A soft breath escaped Dax, and his dark eyes met Eliza’s. “The client she told me about is one of her off the books clients.”

  “Off the books?” Eliza echoed, not understanding what the phrase meant.

  Dax’s lips twitched up to form the ghost of a smirk. “Detective, the state and federal governments may have legalized the oldest profession in the world, but it is still the oldest profession in the world.”

  The cheeky statement aggravated Eliza, but because she was trying to be sympathetic towards Dax and his loss, she forced down the hard edge of her personality that wanted to snap at him. Even as he grieved, it seemed Dax couldn’t stop being an asshole for long.

  “Which means what exactly?” she asked in a measured voice.

  The faint smirk on Dax’s face turned into a stronger one, and it was the only answer Eliza received to her question.

  Exhaling a deep breath through her nose, Eliza moved on to her next question, ignoring the urge to arrest Dax for being uncooperative. “What do you know about this client of hers?”

  Dax shrugged. “Not much. All I can tell you is that he’s been a longtime client of hers, and they have a standing appointment each week.”

  “Does he have a name?” Eliza inquired, desperate for more information. “Did Angelique ever mention having any problems with this particular client?”

  Dax gave a disbelieving huff. “Detective, I only knew him as Daddy A, so no, I do not know his name, but I can tell you that he and Angie never had any problems. He spoiled her—” Dax snapped his fingers. “She met with a new client—or she was planning on meeting with one. It was a passing mention, so I don’t have much else to give you on that.”

  Already irritated by the scant details that Dax had barely provided her with, Eliza was skeptical about following him down this line of conversation, but the investigator inside her needed to know everything. “Did she tell you how she met this new client?” Eliza asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Through another client, I presume,” Dax said with a shrug.

  The brevity of the response on top of the non-information he had given her was the final straw for Eliza. She put down the pen in her hand and folded her arms, resting them on top of the table as she leaned forward. “Mr. Collins, let me remind you that licensed sex professionals who don’t maintain comprehensive client lists can, and will be, subjected to fines and possible jail time.”

  Dax flashed her what he probably believed was a charming smile. “It’s a good thing I keep impeccable records, huh, Detective?”

  Eliza counted to ten inside her head. She was a breath away from reaching over the table and punching Dax in his over-exfoliated face. Once she had a handle on her anger and irritation, she sat up, closed the manila folder in front of her, and said, “We’re finished here, Mr. Collins. Thank you for coming in. If you could stay available in case we have any further questions, it would be appreciated. I would also recommend not leaving the city while the investigation is ongoing.”

  Dax looked at Eliza with an inquisitive gaze. “Forgive me, Detective, but it sounds like you think I may have had something to do with this.”

  Eliza met Dax’s gaze with a pointed one of her own. “At this point, Mr. Collins, I only have theories that are based off of what little information I do have, and what I know is that you were the last person to contact Angelique. That does make you a person of interest.”

  Dax jumped out of his chair and braced his hand on top of the table, leaning over it and into Eliza’s face. “I would never do anything to Angelique!” Tears formed in his eyes. “She was my best friend, and I would never hurt her,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion.

  Anger and pain filled his tearful gaze, and Eliza momentarily pushed aside her thoughts and feelings about Dax, along with her cop mentality. She sighed. “It’s a formality.”

  Dax stared at her, expecting her to say more, but Eliza wouldn’t go any further than that. Whether she believed Dax had played a part in Angelique’s murder or not, she couldn’t say. There wasn’t enough information for her to jump to such a conclusion.

  Dax stood up. “Okay.” He straightened his sports jacket and said, “Can I go see her now?”

  Eliza stood from her chair and said, “Yes. I’ll have Detective Chilowski take you down to the morgue.”

  “Thank you,” Dax said with a nod.

  They left the conference room and made their way back to Eliza and Billy’s desks. Before they reached them, Eliza turned to Dax and stopped him. “Wait here for a moment.”

  She walked over to her desk and dropped the folder onto it, and Billy got up from his chair and walked over to her. “How’d it go?” he asked as he leaned back against her desk.

  Eliza shook her head. “I’ll tell you when you get back.”

  “Get back?”

  She grinned at him. “I told Mr. Collins you would take him to the
morgue.” Billy groaned, and Eliza’s grin widened. “Oh, and on your way back, pick up something to eat.”

  Billy pushed off the desk and grunted. “Like I’m going to be able to eat after going to the morgue.” He walked over to his chair and grabbed his coat off the back of it, then he and Eliza walked over to where Dax stood.

  Eliza stretched out her hand and said, “Thank you again for coming in, Mr. Collins.”

  Dax took hold of her hand and covered it with his free one. “No, thank you, Detective. If you need anything, anything at all, please call.” He released Eliza’s hand—much to her relief—and reached inside his sports jacket. He pulled out a business card and offered it to Eliza. “I hope the next time we see each other it will be under much more pleasant circumstances.”

  The flirtatious tone his voice had taken on brought back the gross feeling Eliza had felt back at his apartment, and she repeatedly told herself not to knee him in the groin.

  She took the card with a tight smile. When she looked at it, Eliza saw the dark purple ‘P’ of the Pleasure Inc. logo embossed in the upper left-hand corner of the card. Studying the shimmering letter, Eliza asked, “Why does your card have the Pleasure Inc. logo on it?”

  She looked up to find Dax smiling at her. “The cards are part of an attempt to lure me to the firm. As I told you, I’m exploring my options.”

  “Is business a little slow, Mr. Collins?” Eliza countered, seeing an opportunity to get him back for shamelessly flirting with her.

  Dax continued to hold her gaze, and his unflappable smile remained in place. Every fiber of Eliza’s being wanted to wipe it off his face. Another second passed before Dax dipped his head and said, “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Detective Miller.” He looked at Billy. “Detective, whenever you’re ready.”

  Eliza watched as Dax and Billy walked out of the bullpen, and she noticed the red soles of Dax’s shoes. “Pretty boy,” she muttered to herself with a slight shake of her head.

  ◊◊◊

  An hour later, while scarfing down cheesesteaks and fries, Eliza and Billy were going over their notes for Angelique’s case, which were a whole lot of nothing.

  Billy belched loudly, and Eliza directed a lethal stare at him. He grinned. “Sorry. So, we gonna talk about your new boyfriend?”

  Eliza looked at everything sitting on her desk, searching for something she could throw at him, but she couldn’t find anything that would work. Instead, she chucked a ketchup-covered fry at Billy, hitting him right in the forehead. “Dax Collins is a character. Even when he’s grieving the death of his closest friend, he’s still an asshole and a sleaze ball.”

  Billy laughed as he wiped ketchup off his face. “Oh, we both know you have a soft spot for characters.” He tossed the dirty napkin onto his sandwich wrapper. “He didn’t say much on our way to the morgue.”

  Eliza nodded. “I’m sure he didn’t. He and Angelique were really close.”

  “Do you think he had anything to do with it?”

  Eliza pressed her lips together and leaned back in her chair. In the brief amount of time she had spent with Dax, she hadn’t been able to get a good read on him. One thing she could tell was that he truly cared for Angelique, but at the same time, there were a lot of things he didn’t say. Eliza let out a drawn-out breath. “I can’t say. He cared about Angelique, tremendously so, but you and I both know that doesn’t mean anything.”

  Billy picked up a fry and pointed it at her. “True.”

  Eliza watched him pop the fry into his mouth as she continued to think about Dax and his involvement in Angelique’s death. “Our entire conversation was pretty pointless for the most part, but he did mention that Angelique had met with a new client. Did you come across any new clients for her or Pleasure Inc?”

  Billy took a noisy sip of his soda and belched again, but this time with his mouth closed. He picked up a notepad and said, “Pleasure Inc. had over two dozen new clients in the last month or so, but there is no record of which prostitute they saw.”

  “Sex worker,” Eliza snapped. She let out an aggravated breath. “Nothing showed up in Angelique’s books?”

  Billy let out a bark of laughter. “You know damn well neither of those books make any damn sense. The appointment book has dates and times, but the rest of it is in a secret code. The client book has all the required information, but no dates or times, nothing.”

  Eliza rolled a balled-up napkin between her palms as she started at the books and documents scattered across Billy’s desk. This case had too many loose ends for her liking. They would need some real information soon if they were ever going to solve it. She tossed the napkin onto her sandwich wrapper and said, “Let’s go and interview Pleasure Inc.’s newest clients. We’ll flash Angelique’s picture and see if any of them recognize her.” Eliza remembered that she and Billy had to work on one of their other cases, and shook her head in annoyance. “We have to go interview the deli owner for that shooting case. The ADA is going to be on our ass if we don’t get that interview to him soon.”

  Billy groaned and dropped his head back against his chair. “I’m going to take a vacation once all of this is over.”

  “Good luck with that,” Eliza said with a chuckle as she stood up and collected the trash from her meal so she could throw it away.

  “I’m serious, Eliza.” Billy said, getting up from his chair to do the same. “I haven’t taken a vacation since I was a rookie.”

  After throwing away their trash, Billy and Eliza got their coats, putting them on as they headed out of the station.

  “You know, you won’t be able to take a vacation until you retire,” Eliza said with a teasing grin. “You might as well suck it up and accept your fate. You’ve only been a detective for a year. Once you hit five, the word ‘vacation’ becomes a foreign concept.”

  Billy scowled at her and remarked, “Unlike you, the rest of us aren’t married to the job. I would like to have an actual life and do something crazy like date. In fact, when’s the last time you even got laid?”

  Instantly remembering their awkward conversation from yesterday, Eliza quickly shut him down. “We’re not having this conversation.” She started to walk faster, her long legs helping to put enough distance between her and Billy.

  “You could at least make it entertaining for me, Miller, since I’m stuck here for the rest of my days according to you,” Billy said with a laugh as he tried to catch up with her.

  Eliza ignored him as she continued to walk at a clip, widening the distance between them. If she got to the car before he did, she would be able to leave him at the station—or “accidentally” hit him with the car, if fate was on her side. It honestly didn’t matter to Eliza which scenario happened; both were good options.

  3

  Eliza stopped in front of the gate for the chain-linked fence that enclosed the small front yard of the house. A young child squealed inside, and she smirked, a soft chuckle escaping her as she walked through the gate. Every Sunday her family got together at her parents’ house for dinner, and it was always a circus because her family was so massive.

  If Eliza had it her way, they would have two separate dinners so everyone could enjoy themselves comfortably. One dinner would be held in the afternoon for those who went to church with her parents, and the other one would be later in the day for those who couldn’t make it to church or just didn’t go. Eliza shook her head; her father would kill her for entertaining the thought.

  Eliza took out her keys and found the one for the front door. She slipped it inside the lock and unlocked it. The moment she pushed the door open, her ears were overwhelmed by the sounds of loud conversation, raucous laughter, children screaming with excitement, and the TV in the back living room being played at full volume. Four small children came rushing out of the front living room and hurled themselves at Eliza. Two attached themselves to each of her legs, while the other two began to tug at her arms as they called for her, and they all talked over one another. Eliza laughed
as she greeted them and tried to move further into the house so she could close the front door.

  “Hey! Let Aunt Lizzy go,” a woman called as she made her way out of the kitchen. “What did we tell you about running to the door without a grown-up? Do you want to get kidnapped?”

  Not willing to see her nieces and nephew in trouble, Eliza freed herself and moved around them. “It’s my fault, Kristen. I saw them in the living room, and one wave led to an ambush.”

  Her sister-in-law shook her head. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  Eliza went to hug her, but Kristen’s protruding stomach made it difficult to do so. She grinned and asked, “Is that kid ever gonna get out of there, or has he set up shop permanently?”

  Kristen let out an angry growl. “I’m going to kill your brother for doing this to me again. We’re not having another one. No matter what he says, I’m not doing it.”

  Eliza bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from laughing. “So, this time isn’t as smooth as it was with Little Ollie?” she asked as she hung up her coat by the door.

  Kristen sighed. “It’s not too terrible, I just don’t like being pregnant. It’s not for everybody.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s not.” Eliza bent down and picked up her three-year-old niece, Fay. She gave her stomach a quick tickle, and the little girl giggled. She moved to the doorway of the front living room and waved at her older niece and nephew, then looked at Kristen. “Everybody in the kitchen?”

  Her sister-in-law nodded. “Yeah. Charlie and Marie are here, Chenzo and Big Ollie went to the store for your mom, Lisa said she was on her way, and Junior had to go pick up little Quin, but he should be here soon.”

  Still carrying Fay, Eliza followed Kristen into the kitchen.

  Kristen glanced at Eliza over her shoulder. “I’m surprised you’re here. Mom said you were busy working on that dead hooker case.”

  “Sex worker,” Eliza instantly corrected with a scowl. Her parents had called her on Thursday to remind her about dinner, and somehow, they had gotten on the topic of her latest case. Of course, she hadn’t said anything, but they had assumed she was the one assigned to it, and no matter what she said, she wasn’t able to dissuade them. “Like Dad would let me miss Sunday dinner. He would shoot me.”