Exposed by Rage

by Sherrel Lee

  I turned the key and pulled out of the parking space, did a slow circle around the building and rolled toward the exit. Mimzi sat at a red light in the turn lane directly in front of me. I took a quick right then did a U-turn at the first opportunity, pulling into the same turn lane three cars back from her. I dialed DeMarco but got his voice mail. Leaving a message I followed Dimzie into the parking lot, returning to the same spot I had just left.

  She walked across the tarmac, swinging her hips and carrying bags with the name of a restaurant on them. She was bringing dinner to her partner in crime but it made me angry to see how upbeat she appeared. I couldn’t believe my luck.

  Maybe I was going to have the opportunity to beat the shit out of her.

  26

  Minutes passed and I got antsy. Convinced myself that DeMarco was on his way and he’d sent backup to make sure I was safe until he arrived. I already knew it was dangerous to make any type of assumption, but what I know to be the truth when dealing for others, just never seems to apply to me.

  I just wanted a look. A quick peek to determine where Mimzi had gone when she’d entered the studio. The video and audio rooms were set up so that the operator of the camera or sound equipment could see the players, but the players were seeing an image projected to help them get into the right mood for whatever they were filming or recording. I knew that if the couple were in one of the sets, I could take a quick look from the technician’s side and they would never know I was there.

  I crept silently up the steps and into the building lobby keeping an eye out for any cameras that might have been installed for security purposes, but fully expecting that would not be the case. Trixie didn’t like people spying on her and had already experienced more than one breach into a system that was supposed to protect her. No cameras were in sight. I opened the hallway door only far enough to check to see if anyone was in there. Finding it empty, I slipped passed the door and crept down the passage glancing through the doorways into each studio until I saw Mimzi taking out food cartons in a video set.

  I turned quietly to leave the building and wait for Michael.

  George growled as he ran through the doorway opposite the one I was standing in.

  A knife gleamed in his hand. He struck me. Blood bloomed even as I raised my hands to block the blow. I hardly felt it slice into my upper arm. Twisting away I found Mimzi, a blood maroon bat raised to strike me. I ducked. My muscles responded with the memory of hours of training.

  I turned, using the velocity of the motion to drive my elbow into Mimzi’s face. I heard the bat drop to the floor as I extended my leg targeting George’s knee. A satisfying crack as he screamed told me I had hit the target.

  George dropped like the sack of shit he was.

  Mimzi recovered. She charged at me, her acrylic, tiger-sharp claws extended. Rage distorted her features changing them into a demonic parody of the innocent faced sex star she had become. She swiped the claws across my chest.

  I had seen drunks fight with the ability to contort into boneless shapes. Slip out of the hands of some of the meanest, most muscular, hardcore, examples of military might. Mimzi made them look like gawky teenagers.

  She moved with speed and agility making it impossible to land a direct kick or punch, while she continued to scratch and claw at my face, breasts and abdomen. Fury drove her in an unending rampage against me. I realized I was slowing as she continued to connect her dagger sharp blows.

  I evaded and ducked, faked left and then right. She followed my every move. Breathless my energy surged as I realized George was directly behind her. I moved forward, forcing her back a half step, then another, driving her until she stumbled. Lost her balance. Fell. The plunk of a basketball bouncing across a court marked her head hitting the ground.

  I bent down, turned her over and grabbed one of the restraints I carried in my pocket I twisted her arms behind her and fastened it tightly around her wrists before she regained her senses. The door from the lobby opened behind me, and I looked up to find DeMarco leading a charge into the hall. Distracted by the anger carved into this face, I never even thought about the knife until George drove it into my calf. Braden charged forward kicking George’s arm to keep him from making a second strike. DeMarco caught me before I fell into the heap of bodies at my feet.

  27

  I stood by the door and watched DeMarco and Braden step to opposite sides of the bed where George lay in the locked medical ward, recovering from a knee replacement and several broken bones. Braden made it his duty to report to anyone who would listen, how he had rescued me from the bastard. I let it ride. If DeMarco and I had a chance to make things work between us I had to sign a peace treaty with his official police partner.

  “No more bullshit, George. You need to tell us why Mimzi killed Jillie and Randi,” DeMarco voice was braced with steel.

  “Ask her. I had nothin’ to do with it.”

  “Unfortunately her jaw is wired shut and though we will be talking to her, she won’t be talking back for a while. We’d really like your perspective on this.”

  Apparently George didn’t mistake the nice words as an excuse to argue. “She hated Jillie. Was always jealous and when Mims found out Jillie had learned that someone was making snuff films, she went nuts. Paranoid freakin’ bezerk.”

  Braden asked, “Did Jillie know it was you making the films?”

  “Nah. She actually asked me if I might know who it was. But maybe my hard-on gave her a clue I was more involved than I admitted. I mean watching Mims slice up those girls. And when Jillie asked I couldn’t help thinkin’ about it.”

  “So why did you make those films. I get it might have been exciting to watch but you didn’t have to become the producer.” DeMarco sounded so sympathetic I wanted to vomit. I struggled to maintain a calm that was hiding a volcanic eruption of anger.

  "You ever just have to stand around and watch someone else do what you dream about?” Spit sprayed from George’s twisted lips. “Always holding the camera, zooming in at just the right moment, capturing everything, but not good enough to be the one doing the action. Then a friend showed me a video and I knew. I knew I was the one who was going to make it big”

  I couldn’t take it, I had to move away from that subject even if for only a minute.

  DeMarco shot me a don’t-do-it look reading my intent to rip out George’s tongue and more vulnerable low hanging body parts.

  “So why murder Randi? She had nothing to do with the films or Jillie’s investigation.”

  “Kevin was avoiding Mims, feeling guilty for letting her talk him into bed shortly after they met. But Kev wasn’t gonna lose Randi over it, and tole Mims to stay away.”

  George looked at me, “Mimzi needed a lot of sex, a lot of guys wantin’ her. She had her eye to make Kevin a more permanent fixture. When he told her to stay away she didn’t take it so good. She was at the club when Randi ran out after fightin’ with Kev. She wanted to get Kevin back and figured she could just take Randi out of the picture and he’d fall into her arms. She went out the back to her car and waited for Randi down the road, then offered her a ride. You know what happened then.”

  DeMarco and Braden continued to interrogate George until a nurse came in and ran them out. They followed me as I hobbled out with the help of a crutch. Most of the cuts and bruises I had were minor, but my arm and leg had more stitches than I wanted to count. I guess I could consider myself lucky, if I wasn’t having to do a one legged dance of penance to get DeMarco to realize I knew I should have waited for him, but threatening my life wasn’t going to unmake what had already happened. He was coming around.

  We didn’t go to see Mimzi, she was heavily sedated and being moved to a psych ward when her injuries would heal to the point she would be able to feed herself again. I’m proud to say I broke Mimzi’s nose, knocked out a few teeth and shattered her cheekbone and jaw. The collision of her head to cement promised to leave her with one major mother of a headache for a few years. Oh, and some
how her shoulder had been dislocated in the fight. I’m sure it happened well before I cuffed her.

  Michael did finally settle down and rarely chided me for having charged into the building without someone to watch my back. I admit the make-up sex has only gotten better by the day, hour and minute. It takes a lot of make-up sex to atone for all the hellfire he’d blasted me with and we both wanted to take a few hours to escape the horror of George and Mimzi.

  When the renovations to the house were completed we would be moving to the manse. Michael had agreed to become my silent partner in the agency I was opening. I haven’t decided on a name, but the idea of calling it NoEx for No Exposure Investigations seemed to ring the bell for the concept of the investigations we were already working but none of that mattered when Michael carried me into his bedroom.

  All thought of tomorrow vanished as he laid me on the bed and his lips met mine.