by D J Small
Reading between the lines, Eliza nodded. “We’ll check out your story, but remain accessible, Mr. Collins. If you hear or notice anything suspicious, give me a call.”
When Dax smiled this time around, he appeared to be his flirtatious and overconfident self again. “Are you worried about me, Detective?”
Eliza turned to face the front of the car. “I just don’t want another dead sex worker on my hands. Have a good day, Mr. Collins.”
“You have a good day as well, Detective Miller,” Dax said with a chuckle as he got out of the car.
Eliza watched him walk away from the car in the side mirror, staring as he went back into the building that housed Pleasure Inc.
“He’s growing on you, isn’t he?”
Pulling her gaze away from the mirror, she looked at Billy. “What are you talking about?”
He grinned and gestured toward her. “You. You’re going soft on him.”
“You’re delusional.” She ran her hand through her hair and rested her elbow on the door. The thought of her going soft on Dax made her question her sanity, especially after how her body had responded to his blatant overture. “He just lost two people that were close to him. It’s called being empathetic, you asshole.”
Billy let out a skeptical snort.
Eliza glared at him.
“Do you think he has anything to do with the murders?”
Eliza forced out a long breath, fogging up the passenger side window as she turned to stare out of it. The feeling in her gut told her that Dax didn’t have a hand in Angelique and Simon’s murders, but at the same time, his connection to the two victims wasn’t something she could overlook, nor did she believe that it was a coincidence.
“He’s charismatic, attractive, and pretentious, but not in an overbearing way.” She looked at Billy. “My gut says he’s not capable of it. I mean, he’s a pretty boy for goodness’ sake. However, him having a relationship with both of the victims isn’t by happenstance.”
“So, we need to dig deeper into Dax’s connection with Pleasure Inc.” Billy chuckled as he started the car. “What I find interesting is that you believe he’s innocent. It’s funny; I know how much you want to see him behind bars.” He grinned at her. “At least for a little while.”
Eliza glared at him. “Shut up. I would put your ass behind bars, but then I’d probably get assigned Dickens or Summerfield for a partner.”
Billy laughed. Both detectives were constantly on Captain Espinoza’s shit list and were horrible at the job.
“Let’s go check out Dax’s story,” Eliza said, getting comfortable in her seat and cranking up the heat.
Saying nothing, Billy chuckled as he pulled out of the parking spot they were in.
5
A few hours later, in one of the smaller conference rooms off of the squad room, Eliza and Billy had their notes, photos of the crime scenes and evidence, and reports for Angelique and Simon’s cases taped on the left wall of the room, and their theories were scrawled on the whiteboard mounted at the front.
They had commandeered the room after reviewing the security footage from Simon’s apartment building. When they had gotten back to the station, one of the precinct’s technology analyst had reported to Eliza that they had discovered something on one of the discs and wanted to review it with her and Billy. The three of them had scrutinized the black and white recording that showed Simon entering the private rear entrance of his apartment building around midnight with another person. Due to the shadows of the night and the person’s face being obstructed by their upturned collar, they weren’t able to make a solid identification, and video enhancement hadn’t helped either.
Despite the unclear image, they had compared the video against the one they had obtained from the lobby of Angelique’s building, and like the person that had come in with Simon, the individual that had entered Angelique’s building had also hidden their face. The style and color of their possible suspect’s coat had been different in each video, and there were no other discernible features that would aid them in their case, which meant they were no closer to finding out who was killing sex workers.
Eliza tossed Angelique’s appointment book onto the wooden conference table. For the last hour or so, she and Billy had been focusing on both Simon and Angelique’s books. Eliza believed they held the answer to who their murderer was—or at the very least, the identity of the last person that had seen them alive.
Dropping her head back against her chair, Eliza stared up at the stained ceiling and said, “I’m certain we’d have an easier time reading computer code than trying to decipher this shit.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Billy said, but then he added, “and I don’t know shit about computers.”
Eliza let out a tired sigh and picked up Simon’s appointment book off the table and held it above her face so she could read it. “According to the coroner’s report, she estimates that Simon was killed sometime between one and three in the morning. He had three appointments scheduled the day before his murder.” Eliza’s face scrunched up as she read off the appointments for that day. “The first one was at 11 a.m., and written next to it is, ‘H, PP, and F’. The second appointment was at 2 p.m., and next to it are: ‘NC, W, CBT, KP, B,’” she grimaced, “and ‘pain’.”
Billy shuddered. “There are some twisted people out there.”
“It’s New York,” Eliza commented dryly. “His last appointment was at five, so he had no late-night clients scheduled.” She put down Simon’s appointment book and picked up the legal pad that had her notes scribbled on it. “Now the only acronym that appears in both his and Angelique’s books is ‘NC’.”
“‘NC,’” Billy muttered under his breath several times.
“Yeah, and I have no clue as to what it could mean.” Eliza picked up Simon’s book again, and began to flip through the pages, trying to find the acronym again. She found it sporadically throughout the book, but there was no context as to what it could mean. A thought came to her. “Is it possible that it could mean ‘new client’?”
Billy shrugged. “Possibly, but since our boy Simon was in the habit of doling out pain to willing saps, it could also mean ‘non-consensual play’.”
Eliza rolled her head along the back of her chair to look at him “I don’t know about that. Why would Angelique have the same acronym in her book? From what Dax told us, their clients were night and day.”
Billy sat up in his chair and grinned at her. “Dax.”
Instantly wary about where this conversation was headed, Eliza asked, “What about him?”
“He can help us,” Billy said with way too much enthusiasm. “With the books.”
Eliza groaned, but even as she did, she thought about his suggestion.
“Come on, hear me out, Miller. His story checked out, and you don’t believe that he killed his friends, so why don’t we bring him in and have him sort out this mess for us?”
Eliza repositioned her head so she could resume staring at ceiling. Dax’s story had checked out, and it had taken minimal effort to confirm. The security guard at Dax’s apartment building hadn’t even bothered to ask them for a warrant when they asked to review the lobby’s surveillance footage from last night to confirm Dax’s comings and goings, he just showed it to them. Eliza and Billy had run into the same cooperation with the manager of the club Dax had gone to. Apparently, they had a good rapport, and the manager had been eager to help Dax clear his name in any way that he could. The same thing had happened at the gym. Eliza had a feeling that Dax had spoken with the guard and managers, but either way, she was tempted to bring him onto the case. People seemed to genuinely like him; something she had a hard time understanding.
After dwelling on the idea for another minute, Eliza lifted her head. “Nope. We’re not doing it. He’s sleazy, arrogant, and thinks way too much of himself.”
Billy laughed. “Those are not valid reasons to not bring him in. You’ve dealt with sleazier guys here at the precinct.�
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“I don’t care,” Eliza argued, refusing to budge on the idea of bringing Dax in to help. Yes, she didn’t like his personality, but she also found him beyond irritating—a tremendous feat considering she had four brothers.
Billy picked up the package of Ho-Hos sitting next to him on the conference table. He tore into it, and after biting one in half, he pointed the rest at her and said, “If you don’t call him, I’m going to tell the captain, and she’s going to rip you a new one because you’re not using your resources to close this case.”
Lips tightening, Eliza narrowed her eyes at him. Billy would do it too; just because he could. It wasn’t often that he painted her into a corner, but this time he had a valid point. Eliza leaned forward, holding Billy’s gaze as she retrieved Dax’s card. “I’m going to make your life hell for this.”
She picked up her phone and dialed the number on the card. The line rang twice before the call was answered.
“Hello?”
The smooth, deep resonance of Dax’s voice caused a familiar and damning sensation to go up Eliza’s spine, and she mentally yelled at her body for forsaking her a second time that day. She cleared her throat and said, “Mr. Collins, hello. It’s Detective Eliza Miller with the NYPD.”
“Ah, Detective, what a pleasant surprise,” he said, and Eliza heard the smile in his voice. “To what do I owe this call? Did my story not check out?”
“No—I mean yes,” Eliza said, stumbling over herself. “We looked into your story, and you’re fine. The reason for my call is because we need your help.”
“I hope by we you mean you, and if so, I hope it is personal in nature,” Dax teased in a suggestive tone. Eliza counted to ten in her head to stop herself from going off on him.
“No, it’s a business matter,” she replied in a clipped tone. “The crime scene teams recovered appointment and client books from Simon and Angelique’s apartments, but Detective Chilowski and I are having a hard time understanding the notes in them.”
A soft chuckle rumbled through the line. “And you would like to use my expertise to help you with deciphering them?”
Eliza’s jaw muscles bunched. She would rather swallow glass than have this conversation. “Yes, if you don’t mind. But if you aren’t available, we understand. It is short notice.” Eliza added, almost praying for him to take the out.
“Oh, no, Detective Legs,” Dax said with a laugh.
Disappointment washed over Eliza. He wasn’t going to take the out.
“I’m getting an opportunity to spend some quality time with you—"
“Chilowski will be with us,” Eliza pointed out, making sure he knew they would not be alone.
Dax hummed. “And as handsome as he is, it is not he who I will be glad to assist.” He softly clicked his tongue, then said, “I shall be there in an hour.”
“Thank you for your help,” Eliza said, hoping her mouth had opened wide enough to hide the fact that she was speaking through gritted teeth. “We shall see you soon.”
“Yes, Detective, you shall.”
The call ended, and Eliza jumped up from her chair and pointed at Billy. “I’m going to kick your ass. You know that detailed report the captain wants for the last case we closed? You’re doing the whole damn thing by yourself.”
Billy groaned. “Not the stats report! You know I suck at numbers.”
“Then you shouldn’t have forced me to deal with Dax Collins.” She expelled an irritated breath, then pinned Billy with a scathing glare. “I will punch him if he makes a pass at me, and you better hope you can stop me.”
Billy pressed his lips together, and when his face started to turn a bright shade of red, she knew he was trying not to laugh at her.
“You are such an asshole.”
Unable to hold it in any longer, Billy burst out laughing, and Eliza picked up her notepad and chucked it at him. She stormed out of the conference room, his obnoxious laughter still going behind her. After this case, she would be requesting a new partner. Someone who didn’t find her irritation entertaining.
◊◊◊
Eliza’s index finger slid down the page of Angelique’s client book while the forefinger on her other hand went down the open page of Simon’s. She was trying to find names of people that would have possibly seen both of them. The idea was farfetched, but at this point, farfetched was better than her and Billy chasing their tails around.
“The number of scheduled appointments goes beyond the number of names that are in their official client books. Simon has fifteen official ones, and Angelique has almost twenty, but the number of appointments is way above those numbers. Sure, a client may visit them more than once, but the acronyms for each appointment are different.” Eliza frowned at the books in front of her. “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t think you’ll be appreciative of the answer once you hear it.”
Eliza lifted her head to find Dax standing in the doorway of the conference room carrying two brown paper bags. His unexpected response took her off guard, and she stared at him. He had on a pair of form-fitting designer jeans, a heather-gray turtleneck sweater, and his black leather jacket. Dax walked over to the conference table and set the bags on top of it.
Dax smiled at her. “Detective Legs.” He nodded at Billy. “Detective Chilowski.”
“Mr. Collins. Why do you keep calling me that?” Eliza asked, needing to know the reason behind the annoying nickname he had christened her with. She knew there was a high possibility that his answer would make her to want to punch him in his pretty face.
Dax reached into one of his bags and pulled out a container. “Are you sure you want me to answer that?” he asked with a playful smirk as he placed the covered plastic container in front of her.
Eliza watched him pull out two smaller containers and place them on top of the larger one. “Yes, I do. What is this?”
“Dinner. Since you and Detective Chilowski are working diligently to find the person that murdered my friends, I have taken it upon myself to make sure that the both of you are well-fed.” Dax explained while placing a container that was identical to the one he had set in front of Eliza in front of Billy.
He grinned at Eliza, then bent down so his mouth was close to her ear. “Since you are a respectable officer of the law, I will be discreet in my response,” he whispered, then he proceeded to tell Eliza the reason why he called her Detective Legs.
Upon hearing the explanation, every logical thought flew out of her head, and her breathing stopped. It took Eliza two full seconds before she could work through the shock, horror, and unexpected arousal the explanation had caused.
When she could think again, Eliza jumped out of her chair and pinned Dax down with a deadly, cutting gaze. “I will have you arrested for sexually harassing an officer if you continue to speak to me like that!” Embarrassment, more than actual anger, fueled her reaction.
Dax stood up straight and took a step back, holding up his hands. “First, let me apologize, Detective Miller. I have been inappropriate towards you, and that is not the person I am. From here on out there will be no more flirtatious jokes, and I will treat you with the utmost respect. Again, my apologies.” Eliza’s intense gaze continued to bore into him, and he went on, “Secondly, I will stop using the nickname. It seems to bother you, and I apologize for that as well.”
The apology surprised Eliza, but what surprised her more was the genuine sincerity in Dax’s eyes. Apparently, he knew he had gone too far, and seemed to be ashamed of what he had said to her. The reaction was enough to make Eliza dial back her anger. “Apology accepted, Mr. Collins.”
Dax gave her a friendly smile and went back to pulling things out of the bags—which included bread, condiments, cutlery, clear plastic cups, and a bottle of sparkling mineral water.
“Dax, where the hell did you get this food?” Billy asked, not at all bothered by the tense moment that had just occurred. “It smells incredible.”
Dax pulled a spare conference ro
om chair over to the table and sat at the head of it. “Decadence.”
“Decadence?” Billy let out a skeptical grunt. “Yeah, right. That place is booked solid for the next ten years, and they don’t do to-go orders.”
Dax poured them each a glass of mineral water, shooting Billy a grin. “You’re absolutely right, but I have trade secrets that can get me into some pretty impossible places.”
The answer seemed to be enough to satisfy Billy, who dove into the meal in front of him. He groaned as he removed the lid from the larger plastic container. “Oh, you are my new best friend.”
Dax chuckled and retrieved his own meal from the second bag. “I figured I couldn’t go wrong with prime rib and potatoes with you two. I apologize that the dinnerware isn’t up to standard.”
Billy waved him off. “You’re feeding me, it doesn’t matter what I’m eating off of. I could be using my hands and I still wouldn’t care for a steak that smells this delicious.”
Eliza removed the cover off her own container of food, and sure enough, there was a thick piece of prime rib sitting inside of it. The intense aroma of garlic and herbs overwhelmed her nose, making her mouth water. However, instead of going to work on the meal like Billy, she wanted to know more about Dax’s trade secrets. “So, by ‘trade secrets’, you mean you have a client at the restaurant?”
Dax opened his container, and Eliza saw a piece of salmon laying on a bed of grains and vegetables inside it. “No.”
“Then what are these trade secrets?” She asked. “Blackmail?”
Dax unfolded his napkin and placed it across his crossed legs. “Eat, Detective.” He picked up his fork and said, “Some of my connections are due to my profession, and others are because I am a nice person.”
Eliza found that hard to believe.
After stabbing a piece of salmon with his fork, Dax scooped up whatever was under it onto the bite of fish and put it in his mouth. “A couple of years ago,” Dax continued once he had finished the bite, “I met the manager of Decadence, and at the time, he was going through a nasty divorce with his wife. He loved her, but for some reason the relationship left him feeling miserable, and he neglected her because of it. The entire situation was mentally trying, and it left him a mess. To help him ease the stress and temporarily forget the rollercoaster of emotions that comes with such an event, I introduced him to a friend of mine.”