In Too Deep (21 page)

“Yes,” Erin replied, encouraging her to continue.

“In processing her apartment we found some pretty incriminating evidence.”

“The 9mm and the tranquilizer?”

“And the knife as well.”

“And does it all match?”

Patricia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ballistics confirmed the gun match this morning. And the tranquilizer and the knife are matches also.”

“That’s great news.” Erin pulled her robe tighter around her body. She felt cold but couldn’t explain why.

“Then this morning at about five o’clock we received a call from the highway patrol. A van was found at the bottom of Pike’s Canyon. Apparently it had run off the road and busted through the safety barrier. It landed at the bottom of the canyon and exploded upon impact. We ran the vehicle identification, and it came back as belonging to Kristen Reece.”

Erin took in a deep breath and set down her orange juice.

“There was a body inside. It was burned beyond recognition and we’ll be lucky to get anything from it.”

“What about dental comparison?” Erin asked.

“We think the van’s been there since Monday. And there is evidence of animal tampering. Most of the missing body parts have been discovered not far from the accident scene. But we still haven’t located the skull.”

“So where does all this leave the investigation?” From what she had just heard, it sounded like they had all they needed to pin everything on Reece.

Erin’s stomach flipped as a flare of excitement rushed through her. Elizabeth Adams could be innocent. She looked to Patricia and instantly felt the heated weight of guilt. Why did she want Liz to be innocent? For her own selfish reasons? She glanced away and studied her hands, ashamed at her reaction. This of course also meant that there was no reason to see the nightclub owner again. Suddenly feeling let down and anxious, she tried to find a good excuse to see Liz one more time.

“The department wants to close the case, pending the positive identification of Reece. We don’t have anything on Adams linking her to the murders. We have her threats, but we all know that would get nowhere in court.”

Erin sat sideways on the couch, hugging her knees up to her chest as she spoke. “She knew Reece. She could’ve easily put her up to it.”

“Yes, but we can’t prove it.”

“So what now? Am I out?”

“It’s up to you.” Patricia’s eyes were deep and serious. “I think you should call it quits.”

“Why?” Erin searched her face, needing to hear why, her own mind unable to piece the overwhelming information together.

“Because this all seems to be falling into place too easily. I think it was just a little too coincidental, us finding all the evidence we needed to blame Reece for the murders. Then only to find her body burned, its head missing, making it damn near impossible to positively ID. It’s too nice and neat. I still think Adams is involved, and I think she might have framed Reece.”

“All the more reason to keep me in.” She didn’t want to quit now, not when she felt so close to making a breakthrough with the mysterious woman.

“It’s not safe, Mac. If she masterminded all this, and she didn’t draw the line at killing a woman…” Patricia gestured with her hands to emphasize her point. “Then think how easy it would be for her to do something to you. It’s time to get out so the department can wrap this up in a tidy little package and get some positive media for a change.”

“But you still think she’s guilty, you said so yourself.”

“I do. But I don’t think you risking your life will bring us anything more than we already have. There’s nothing more we can do.”

“What does Ruiz think?”

“He’s willing to give you one last shot at Adams if you want it. He’ll give you tonight and then he wants you out.”

“Okay, then. I’ll do it.” Erin answered quickly and confidently, wanting the chance.

“Mac, please. It’s too dangerous.”

“Will you still shadow me?” she asked, needing to know that Patricia would still be there for her.

Patricia sighed. “Yes, of course. But be careful. She’s not happy having me around.”

“I’ll be fine.”

*

The wind kicked up, bringing with it the promise of dust and rain. Patricia breathed deep, enjoying the raw, earthy scent of a monsoon storm. She looked toward the north, where the dark clouds usually originated. As if on cue, lightning lit up the night sky, showing off the storm clouds, playing tag from one end of the thunderheads to the other. Not wanting to get caught by the blowing dust that would soon follow, she picked up her step and walked quickly to the club entrance.

A horde of leather-clad women gathered around the main door, anxiously awaiting entrance. She made her way past them, eyeing their black leather garb, their dark lipstick, their suggestive stares. Some of the women wore classic S&M outfits: black leather pants, studded collars and bodices. A few wore leashes attached to their collars with no one at the other end. They were hoping against hope that a special someone would choose them for the evening, and then and only then would they allow their leashes to be taken. Looking around, she also noticed that not a single soul had dressed as a dominatrix. That role was saved for one person, and one person only.

“Hey, you have to wait in line!” a large female bouncer yelled to her as she walked through the entrance. “Hey, I said—”

Patricia continued walking, ignoring her until fingers restrained her arm. “Back off.” She pulled out her badge. The bouncer dropped her arm and backed away carefully as if the badge were a venomous snake.

Patricia continued on, making her way inside to the heart of the club. Dark techno music thumped so hard it rattled her chest. The dance floor was packed with women, and the usual lasers and colorful lights that shined from above had been replaced by deep blues and purples. She looked around, trying to locate Erin, but it was nearly impossible to make out a face.

She made her way toward the bar, hoping for a better view of the dance floor. Erin had arrived at the club a few minutes before her and yet it was already as if she had been swallowed up by the mass of dancing women. It was crucial that Patricia locate the younger detective, and her anxiety wouldn’t settle until she did.

The bar was busy with dozens of leather-clad women hovering around it, yelling out their demands. Patricia knew without looking that Blade wasn’t there. She had called, earlier that morning, crying, upset because she’d been fired. It was just as well. She didn’t belong at the club, working for Adams.

Patricia found a place to stand next to the crowded bar and carefully scanned the dance floor, hoping that Erin hadn’t already been escorted upstairs, or worse, somewhere away from the club. She searched for her face, but the task was virtually impossible. A girl with a blond glowing Mohawk caught her eye. Her body was slick with sweat and thrusting in time to the dark beat. She stood in front of her companion, her slick, thrusting arm disappearing down into the smaller woman’s pants.

Patricia dragged her attention away from the Mohawk girl and her powerful hand job and looked up at the dancing women on the raised platforms—every one of them dressed in various S&M getup—dancing, spanking, whipping.

A movement on the VIP stairs caught her attention. A tall, dark-haired woman was working her way down, slowly, deliberately. Rob Zombie began thumping into the club, feeding the women like blood to a vampire. Elizabeth Adams came into better view and the crowd stilled, watching, waiting for the one.

Patricia knew what Liz would be wearing, having seen it countless times before. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but look. The shiny black pants clung to Liz’s legs like a second skin, showing off the muscles underneath as they rippled with her walk. Her black motorcycle boots, heavy, strong, and masculine, hinted at the strength she intended to uphold. Her torso was bare, the tanned skin stretching across the etched stack of her abdominal muscles.

She wore a silver chain-front vest, fastened to her by black leather straps. As she walked, the wall of chains swayed, allowing brief winks of her dark, puckered nipples. Her hair was combed back away from her face and a black leather mask fit snug around her piercing eyes, making her sculpted cheekbones more pronounced.

As Patricia’s eyes moved up and down the incredible body in its breathtaking costume, they focused on the leather lace-up guards Liz wore on her forearms, driving home the dominating getup. The outfit was as powerful as it was sexy, demanding attention while it also demanded submissiveness.

Patricia could not tear her eyes away. What was worse was she knew that later, in the privacy of the Liz’s lair, the tight pants would be removed to reveal the real dominatrix outfit, which was what all these women wanted and wished for.

Patricia had had her, had experienced the powerful sex with their pseudogoddess, and she had to admit that if any of the women knew the sex was even better than they imagined, they would kill themselves trying to get to her.

As it was, they were clamoring at the bottom of the stairs, hoping for a mere glance their way, a smile, or the rare opportunity to actually be chosen for the evening.

Liz walked with graceful confidence through the parting crowd. A few women shouted her name, desperate for her attention. Some moved into her path, and she would grin slyly and grab their leashes, pulling them to her a breath away from her mouth and then releasing them with a shove back into the crowd. As Liz teased her admirers, Patricia noticed the swinging red suede tassels of the flogger Liz had fastened to the belt of her pants.

Heated blood rushed to her face and loins as the sight of the flogger brought back images of some of their more intense sexual interactions. Memories flooded back of being lightly restrained on her back on the bed, the stinging and tantalizing whip of the tassels against her bare breasts rushing blood between her legs. She remembered Liz straddling her, whipping her. Helpless to stem the flow of images, she braced herself against the person next to her and tried to regain the strength in her legs. She couldn’t allow this. She had to get control of herself.

Pushing back the memories of her own heated encounters, she regained her focus on Liz, who continued through the crowd until she came upon a lone blonde standing in the center of the dance floor.

Patricia’s throat tightened in recognition. She hadn’t seen Erin earlier and wasn’t prepared for how she looked. Desire once again ignited her blood as she studied the young detective. Her hair was slicked back against her head. The black leather pants Patricia had purchased for her fit her muscled legs like a tight glove, but instead of the matching black leather vest, Erin was wearing a very revealing black lace bra. The decision to nix the vest and go with the bra alone had obviously been her idea, and Patricia at once understood why she’d done it. The bra was much more revealing and more daring. Definitely something Liz would appreciate. Patricia only hoped J.R. had done his best work in concealing the tiny wire.

With her heart racing with desire and her mind screaming with jealousy and want, Patricia felt sick as Liz approached Erin. In that moment, Patricia hated her former lover with a passion she had almost believed she would never feel again. Whatever happened after tonight, she promised herself, she would make certain Elizabeth Adams never laid her predatory hands on Erin again.

*

“Hi.” Liz’s voice was like a purr as she stood before Erin, completely confident and more than a little domineering.

“Hi,” Erin said, unable to peel her eyes away from the exposed body before her. The chains were still moving, and she wished they would settle in a position covering the beautiful breasts beneath them. The winks and peeks of the nipples underneath were almost too much for her to handle.

Liz moved her gaze up and down, a grin spreading across her face. “You look better than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Erin tried desperately to downplay how incredibly sexy the nightclub owner looked. She was there for a reason, and it wasn’t to lose herself in the feelings Liz aroused.

The crowd around them had once again started to dance, the other women accepting their defeat. Liz moved into her, pressing her warm body up against Erin’s. “I’m glad you came,” she whispered into her ear. “Dance with me.”

Erin shuddered as they began to move in rhythm with the music. She could feel Liz’s taut nipples as they found their way through the chains once again. She let her hands rest on the firm planes of Liz’s back and willed her body to remain calm.

“Mmm. Your hands feel so good on me,” Liz said huskily.

“Hey you two, mind if I join in?” another voice spoke in her other ear. Erin turned and instantly recognized the movie actress she had met several nights before. She looked equally sexy in the black leather band fastened tightly around her bare breasts. A black patch covered one eye, offering mystique as well as sex.

“Not at all,” Erin answered before Liz had the chance.

The actress smiled and moved in close to Erin. Before Erin knew what was happening, the thick luscious lips of the actress had descended on hers with a vengeance. Her hot tongue invaded Erin’s mouth, probing and swirling, and Erin pulled away as she felt something else.

She swallowed and half choked at a bitter taste in her mouth. “What was that?” She tried to swallow and wash whatever it was from her mouth.