Take a Risk (Risk #1) (2 page)

Lyssa put her A4 notebook aside on the circular table next to her leather armchair. ‘The first thing you told me when we started our sessions was that you loved your wife very much and were determined to stay faithful. Are you telling me that your stance has changed?’

‘No! I love Harriet and I do want to be with her, only her… she’s just not meeting my needs.’

Glancing at the clock she offered Lee Zucker a smile. ‘We’ll pick up there next week, Lee,’ she said. ‘Just take it one day at a time. Try not to act on impulse and remember where your priorities lie.’

She scheduled his next appointment and they said goodbye. After he left she went to her desk and updated her patient notes on her laptop.

The ground floor of her house was her business premises with her office and waiting room. She had a basement space, which she used for storage. Her home was laid over the first and second floors of the terraced house and she had an attic space too, which she often spoke of converting, but she hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

She didn’t need more room in the two bedroom house, and she liked the place the way it was. Enjoying her own space, and peace and quiet, after the trauma of her hectic med school life and then constantly deferring to her husband gave her a new appreciation for embracing her own environment. Lyssa was proud of what she’d accomplished in her life so far.

‘Hello!’

Lyssa had just closed Lee’s file when Suzette poked her head through the office door. ‘Hey,’ Lyssa said. ‘I’m done, just let me get changed and we’ll get going.’

‘Dinner and drinks, then we set your rescue in motion.’

Lyssa shut down the computer, slid the strap of her purse up her arm, and rose from the desk while cringing. ‘This Trapper guy could be a nut too, you know.’

Suzette huffed; the beautiful blonde’s shoulders sagged. ‘I am not going to let you back out of this.’

‘We could be inviting trouble,’ Lyssa said, switching off the lights before she locked the office and front door, then led Suzette up the internal stairs to her apartment.

Coming out of the hall into the kitchen, Lyssa shed her jacket and shoes while Suzette poured the wine she’d retrieved from the fridge. ‘Since when do you care about that?’

‘Trouble can be interesting,’ Lyssa conceded, wiggling her toes.

‘Trouble is what you’ve been in for months,’ Suzette said. ‘This weirdo stalker is taking over your life and the police won’t do a thing.’

‘Don’t upset yourself again,’ Lyssa said. ‘The police can’t do anything because there’s no evidence. They took reports, but they can’t pursue a person that no one can identify.’

‘Which is why we’re going to Risqué.’

According to Google Earth, Risqué was a strip joint in an area of town bordering the red light district. ‘All Chavez said was to go to the bar and ask for Trapper, doesn’t that sound a bit…’

‘The cop chased us down outside the station. He told us that the referral was off the record. We have to go tonight. Aren’t you curious?’

‘Maybe he just felt bad that the cops are powerless here. It’s not like they can have someone stakeout my house for months just so that I feel better.’

‘Just because the cops can’t do anything doesn’t mean you should live in fear. Maybe this Trapper guy can provide security and then you can get a decent night’s sleep.’

‘Chavez said that Trapper wasn’t security. He said he would solve my problem.’

‘It’s this or you come and stay at my place. Pete and I would love to have you, if it would make you feel safer—‘

‘No,’ Lyssa said, taking her wine through the arch that led to the living room and seated herself on the couch. ‘I’m not bringing this crazy guy to your place.’ Rubbing the back of her neck, she rolled her eyes to the front curtains. ‘I just wish I knew who it was. It’s worse when you don’t know who is watching.’

‘We’re going to find out,’ Suzette said, sitting with her and taking her hand. ‘That’s why we have to go and find this Trapper guy… Anything could happen to you; do you want the crazy stalker to catch up with you? I’m sure you’ll regret not at least trying to find out if Trapper can help when this stalker is raping and gutting you.’

‘Fine,’ Lyssa groaned, putting her wine in Suzette’s hand. ‘I’ll go and get ready… We’ll have a few more glasses of wine and that will loosen me up.’

‘No argument here!’ Suzette called.

Lyssa retreated toward the bedroom at the back of the property to get herself out of her work clothes. She did want to be free of her stalker and every time she reported anything to the cops they told her there was nothing they could do. She didn’t blame them for their scepticism, because she was starting to feel like a nut herself.

Officer Chavez must have felt sorry for her, although she couldn’t be sure about his motivation for giving her this advice. But Lyssa shouldn’t flout the opportunity and Suzette was right, she didn’t want to regret not taking the chance later. This could be a one-time deal. The last thing Lyssa wanted was to reach desperation, she’d seen it in her clients and she’d also seen how stalking could affect the victim and how quickly things could escalate into dangerous territory.

Confidence came with the knowledge that this tip had been delivered by a cop and he wouldn’t send her and Suzette into danger, it had to be legitimate. If she wanted to sleep through the night again then Lyssa had to have faith in her friend and in Officer Miguel Chavez.

‘Oh yeah, this was a great idea,’ Lyssa whispered and looped her arm through Suzette’s when they got out of the taxi on the blackened street.

A group of men stood on the corner wearing baggy pants and bandanas or baseball caps. Some barely dressed women hung around on the diagonally opposite corner. Either those girls worked in the club and were on their way to work, or they worked with the customers who came out of Risqué looking for a good time. After observing them for a few seconds Lyssa noted that the women weren’t on their way anywhere, that street corner was their workplace.

‘Come on, this is fun! Your sense of adventure has always outweighed mine, you’re fearless… Is this what your undercover assignments were like? I’m buzzing.’

Getting caught up in the adrenaline of these shady situations could be risky. She’d done work with hookers during her years of training to specialise, and they had taught her a lot. For Lyssa it was easy to be fearless in the name of science because it was enthralling. Pushing boundaries was easy behind the façade of her professional interest; misgivings were easy to cast aside.

Suzette dragged her across the rain soaked street toward the door with the flashing neon girl next to the illuminated red Risqué sign. Flanking said door were two bulky security guards dressed in black.

‘Hello, boys!’ Suzette shrieked. ‘How does this work? Do we pay to get in? We’re strip joint virgins.’

Lyssa nudged Suzette, rebuking her display of naivety, but the guards grinned. ‘Never could tell that,’ one of the guards said and the two giants separated to grant entry. ‘Women get in for free.’

Suzette squealed and pulled Lyssa between the men, down a black corridor toward thumping music and bright flashing lights. The room was busy, filled with leering men sitting at circular tables. Most of them were focusing on the lit stage at the head of the room. Others sat at booths with podiums, some with poles, where topless women danced in the centre.

The bar to the left was staffed by a male, but women in skin-tight low-cut tops and micro-mini skirts carried trays of drinks to tables. This place kept Lycra in business that was for sure. Half a dozen men were perched at the bar, but features of faces and expressions were difficult to decipher in the low light.

The women crossed to the bar and Lyssa hesitated when the bartender came over. ‘Don’t get many lovelies in here like you,’ the bartender said over the music, which was lower in volume nearer the bar. ‘Are you looking for employment?’

Suzette urged her on, so Lyssa took a deep breath. ‘We’re looking for Trapper.’

Curiosity struck the bartender and he went from smiling to serious. ‘Ok, wait here. I’ll go talk to someone.’

The barman walked away and Suzette shoved Lyssa onto a stool. ‘Don’t you feel better?’ Suzette asked. ‘This isn’t so bad.’

Lyssa opened her mouth to respond but a grumbling voice came from further along the bar. ‘What are you ladies drinking?’

‘Oh!’ Suzette said, and was going to respond, but Lyssa silenced her friend with a look because her own scientific curiosity was piqued by this mysterious male currently doused in shadow.

‘There are a bunch of semi-nude women in the room. Why would you make a play for the only women not on offer here?’

‘Those women are working and they’re not hookers.’

‘Implying that we are?’ Lyssa asked.

The broad man slid out of his stool, three places away, and came to sit on the stool beside her. With dark honey brown hair and rough stubble on his jaw, he stretched his long legs toward her as his gaze measured her.

‘Can’t figure why a woman would come into a place like this unless you two are together… and I wouldn’t mind being the meat in that sandwich.’

Suzette laughed but Lyssa maintained eye contact with the guy who hadn’t shown interest in the stage or waitresses at all.

‘I would wonder about a man who comes to a place like this and doesn’t watch the show.’

‘I’ve seen their show,’ he said and his attention drifted down her body. ‘I’ve not seen yours.’

‘And you won’t,’ Lyssa said trying to seek out the bartender who hadn’t returned. ‘I’m here to talk to a friend.’

‘About what?’ he asked.

‘None of your business,’ Lyssa said.

Suzette leaned past her. ‘She’s being stalked,’ Suzette hissed and giggled. The wine and adrenaline must have gone to her head. Lyssa nudged her away.

‘Is that right?’ the man said, raising his brows. ‘Then you’re looking for Trapper.’

Lyssa didn’t expect him to say that. With every word he said his allure grew. But she wasn’t one to let herself be tempted by a handsome face, at least not until she understood his motives. ‘How did you know that? Do you know him?’

‘Maybe,’ he shrugged. ‘Maybe you wish you’d been a little bit nicer to me and accepted that drink now.’

‘You’ll give us information if we let you buy us drinks?’ Suzette said to him, then stage whispered to Lyssa. ‘That’s a pretty good deal.’

‘He doesn’t know anything,’ Lyssa said. ‘He obviously heard me say Trapper’s name to the bartender. He’s trying to manipulate us into drinking with him. He’ll probably spike the drinks.’

The guy sniggered. ‘You’re smart to be wary, but Trapper doesn’t let drugs in here.’

‘This is his place?’ Lyssa asked.

‘If you were his friends you’d know his connection to this place… but I knew you were full of shit when you said that.’ He reached across the bar for the drink he’d left at his previous seat, he had no worries about drugs or leaving his drink unattended.

‘We’re not full of shit,’ Lyssa said.

‘You’re not friends of Trapper.’

‘We are!’ Suzette asserted. ‘We are too his friends.’

‘Trapper doesn’t have friends like either of you,’ he said, gulping from his glass.

Lyssa peered closer. ‘What makes you say that we’re not his friends?’

‘Because I’ve never had a conversation with you before in my life, Doctor Cutler,’ he said, shoving his glass away and looking her in the eye. ‘I’d sure remember having a friend like you.’

‘You’re Trapper?’ Lyssa asked, Suzette gasped.

‘Chavez gave me the story,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure I’m interested.’

‘Why go through the theatrics just to let me down?’ Lyssa asked.

The bartender came over with a bottle of wine and glasses for Lyssa and Suzette, then he left them alone. It was the same wine that they’d been drinking all night, though how he knew that she didn’t know.

‘You’re not at all discreet,’ he said as though this was explanation enough for them getting the right brand and vintage of wine. ‘My methods are unusual and I only take one case at a time. My time is valuable.’

‘You’re worried that something better might come along?’

‘She’s a doctor,’ Suzette said.

‘Yeah, a shrink,’ Colt said. ‘Not exactly a lifesaver in your field, are you?’

‘She could save dozens from the brink of suicide,’ Suzette said. ‘You don’t know.’

‘You’re a sex therapist,’ he said to Lyssa. ‘You contribute to dozens of chickens getting choked.’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You know nothing about what I do,’ Lyssa said, not unfamiliar with the sniggers that accompanied people’s opinion on her occupation.

‘Ditto,’ he said. ‘I can help you. I could get rid of this guy for you and the mystery is maybe enough to keep me interested.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘I’m not sure that I can work with you. I don’t like difficult clients. It gets tiresome. I need to know my client will follow the rules.’

‘What are the rules?’ Lyssa asked.

Looking past her to Suzette, Trapper put his palm on the bar and the tender came over. ‘This is Suzette Blossom,’ he said to the bartender. ‘Get her a car and get her home.’

‘You’re not taking my friend anywhere,’ Lyssa said.

‘Difficult,’ Trapper said to the bartender. ‘See, I knew it. I said it before she came in.’

‘You do have a way of measuring people up,’ the bartender said.

‘I’ll go,’ Suzette interjected, pouncing off her stool. ‘You need him. I’ll call you when I get home.’

‘This is a power play,’ Lyssa said. ‘He’s trying to assert dominance.’

‘And you’re fighting him for it,’ Suzette murmured. ‘It’s not a big deal. A cop knows you’re here for goodness sake. You’re safe here.’

The women embraced and said goodnight. Watching Suzette exit made Lyssa anxious when all she was really relying on at this juncture was the word of a cop, low on the hierarchy. But Suzette did self-defence and she was going home to her fiancé who would expect her to be home when he got back from work in less than an hour. The friends hadn’t exactly confessed their intention for the evening to Pete because he would never have let Suzette get involved in this shady scheme.

Someone took her hand and she turned to have her hair pushed back over her shoulder. Trapper stood close and brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, but the bar was at her back and she was boxed in by stools, so she couldn’t remove herself from him.

‘We’re going to go back to my office.’

‘Oh no, I didn’t come here for that kind of deal.’

He smiled in an enamoured way. ‘I don’t conduct business out here on the public floor. I also protect the anonymity of my clients, so watching eyes need to think we have a more personal connection.’  

Something in his countenance measured her and she knew this was a test, just like his conversation with her before he revealed his identity, everything was a test.

‘Ok then,’ she said. Letting her lips curl, she poured her body the length of his, and slid an arm around him to squeeze his ass.

‘Nice,’ he said and splayed his hands on her back. ‘Ready to retire?’

‘After you,’ she said.

Trapper led her away from the bar towards the stage and the whole way she watched his ass. Man, it had felt good, toned, hard and so much nicer than she’d expected before she touched it. But it had been a long time since she’d been that close to a male. Usually they were opposite her on the patient’s couch.

Weaving through tables and bodies he took her past a security guard and through a door beside the stage. Up a corridor, then up some stairs to a long hallway, which had three doors leading off it. He took her to the middle one, unlocked the door and flicked on a light.

‘Come in,’ he said, dropping her hand and closing the door as soon as they got inside.

A desk was central with a table and a couple of filers at the back of the room. Beside the door was a three-seat sofa and love seat aimed at a widescreen TV.

‘Take a seat,’ he said, pointing toward a seat at the desk and then taking his own.

‘This is an odd set up, Trapper,’ she said, sitting down.

‘Colt Warner,’ he said, offering her his hand. ‘Chavez always was a sucker for a pretty girl.’

‘Lyssa Cutler,’ she said, shaking his hand, struck by such a formal greeting introduction in such an informal setting. ‘Why the alias?’

‘I like to protect my anonymity too,’ he said.

‘So what are we doing here?’

‘You want to know who this guy is, is that all?’

‘I want him to stop. I assume once we know who he is the cops can do their thing.’

‘Which proves to me you don’t know what you’re talking about. What you need is his identity and an evidence portfolio.’

‘Ok.’ Clearly, he did know what he was talking about.

‘That will be a minimum of four to eight weeks, possibly longer depending on his frequency and severity.’

‘Ok.’

‘I have most of what I need to complete—‘

‘Wait, tell me what it is you do, you think you can identify this guy when we have no idea who is perpetrating this?’

‘There are a number of candidates to consider. We’ll look at the usual, boyfriends, ex-husband, neighbours, disgruntled colleagues, in your case your patients.’

‘You’re going to investigate my clients? You can’t do that. There’s confidentiality and—‘

‘I don’t plan on investigating them, I plan on investigating you.’ Her jaw fell. ‘Stalkers can be complete strangers or your best friend. It doesn’t pay to be myopic. Fixating on one person at a time takes too long, especially in a case like yours where there are hundreds of patients from the span of your career and education who could be candidates.’

‘So you’re going to investigate me? How do you plan to do that?’

Leaning over his desk, he smiled. ‘I’m going to stalk you.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘This guy watches you sometimes, right? He comes to your house and calls you. Traditional stalkers enjoy watching their victim, monitoring them. If he’s watching you, then I want to catch him at it.’

‘So you’re going to watch me like he does? I’m getting two stalkers for the price of one.’

‘I’m not really watching you. Think of it like a stakeout. I’ll be further away than he is. It’s my goal to stalk him and as soon as I identify him I’ll start monitoring his movements, that’s how we compile the evidence portfolio. I’ll assemble a file of evidence showing his activity in relation to you.’