Urban Renewal (Urban Elite Book 1)

by Suzanne Steele

  Lady’s gold sequined mini-skirt shimmers like a disco ball as she struts across the sidewalk toward us. She leans in at Valerie’s open window like we’re just shootin’ the shit, but she knows better. Like I said before, sixth sense.

  “What’s up, Jack? I see you’ve got your better half with you today. Hi, doll.”

  Valerie slaps my arm in jest. “Ha! Did you hear that? I’m the brains, you’re the brawn. Hey there, Lady.”

  They share a high-five and more laughter. “You’re the beauty and the brains. It’s easy to see why this one fell so hard for you. You’ve got it all, baby girl: you’re a strong, independent woman with looks, a rockin’ bod, and the talent to put a bastard behind bars. You’ve got my respect, that’s for sure.”

  A little levity goes a long way in moments like this. But I know if I don’t break up this little love fest, it’s just going to make this harder. Lady beats me to it, turning serious as she looks over at me.

  “You don’t look good, Jack. Why so serious, baby?”

  I’d rather she hear this from me than someone else, so here goes. “I’ve got bad news, hon.”

  She backs up from the car window as if the distance will make my statement less true. “No, no, no-- Please don’t tell me Chineka’s gone.”

  “Lady, I promise you, I’ll catch this bastard.”

  “You won’t have to, because if I find out who this freak is, I’ll kill him myself.”

  “Let me do my job, Lady. You don‘t want to get mixed up in this. I know this one strikes way too close to home, but emotions can lead someone to make mistakes, big mistakes. I don’t want you getting hurt.” She just nods, sobbing into the hand she has pressed over her mouth. Even worse than death notifications, I hate having to ask questions after delivering such shattering news. But, again, it’s my job. “Lady, do you think her pimp is capable of doing something like this?” I highly doubt her pimp is a serial killer but I’ve gotta ask.

  “No way. Not his style. Now, he’ll beat a women down if she ain’t makin’ enough bank for his lazy ass, but he ain’t no freak ass serial killer.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so either.”

  “All that profilin’ shit y’all be doing and you got no idea who this guy is?” she asks as she looks from me to Valerie and back again.

  “This guy’s all over the grid as far as his signature.”

  “Signature? What the hell is that?”

  “It’s a killer’s personal way of doing things; their unique style, if you will. It helps us not only profile them but identify their kills. Cutting up body parts is part of this guy’s signature.”

  “That’s one sick motherfucker.”

  “Yes, he is. Now, listen, I need to know you’re gonna be careful out here. Any way you could take some time off?”

  “Baby, now you know I still got bills to pay.”

  “Yeah, I thought you might say that.” I can’t help but feel disappointed. “Okay, then, do me a favor. Ask around and see if anyone’s had any close calls recently. Maybe just a gut feeling that kept a girl from getting into a john’s car, or even a girl who did get in and had a narrow escape.”

  “So you’re finally hiring me?” she chuckles, but her laughter soon fades when she sees the grim determination on my face.

  “I meant what I said, Lady. It’s a standing offer. Whenever you’re ready to get off these streets, I’ll hire you. Hell, I’ll come down here and get you myself, just say the word.”

  “You know what, Jack? With all the craziness going on out here anymore, I might just take you up on that. I’ll think about it.” With a warm look in Valerie’s direction, she says, “You struck gold with this one. You best treat him right, now.”

  Valerie looks my way, her eyes soft with the tenderness she only gives to me. “Every chance I get.”

  Chapter Forty One

  His Pet

  She’s so beautiful, curled up on her little cot. She’s been watching me closely but averts her eyes when I end the call. I can feel the questions and curiosity practically radiating from her. I’m not particularly interested in answering her questions, although I find her curiosity endearing. No, I want to know what’s keeping her spirit intact.

  Making that phone call in front of her was a test of sorts. Lucky for her, she passed. She could have screamed for help and made a fuss, but she didn’t. No one would have come to her aid, of course, but, nonetheless, it could have been…awkward.

  The cot creaks as I sit on the edge. I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear so I can see her lovely face. She’s beautiful even with no make-up, and she’s so very easy to read. I think I enjoy her most when she’s embarrassed or humiliated; in those moments her skin takes on the most charming crimson hue. I find that I want very much to see it again.

  “Ask me your question, you have nothing to fear. As long as you continue to behave, you’re safe here with me.”

  “You’re going out again?”

  “Ahh, you’re jealous?”

  “Why do you always answer my questions with a question?” There’s that unfaltering spirit again.

  “Don’t you find it odd to be having this conversation with the man who abducted you?”

  “Who else am I supposed to talk to?”

  “Hmmm,” I murmur, quite pleased with her progress. “To answer your question, yes, I am. I’m going out.”

  “You’re going to do something evil.”

  My laughter fills the room. “I don’t do evil, darling girl. I am evil. There’s such a profound difference.”

  “Are you…”

  “Am I what? Enamored with someone else? Fucking someone else?” I finish her question for her. “Mmmm…not really. Not just yet. My tastes are…shall we say, eccentric? Yes, eccentric. I’m not a conventional man when it comes to my sexual appetites. I do, however, love to play and a true playmate is so very hard to find these days. I can’t allow just anyone to play with me, I must be very careful. So I’m…browsing. Testing the waters, so to speak – I can’t very well allow someone’s ribald curiosity to be my undoing, now can I? After all, I need to be here to watch over you.”

  I’ve learned much about my little captive in this short discussion. She’s developing feelings for me, as I had hoped. Now it’s just a matter of nurturing them and continuing to gain her trust.

  “You know,” I say as I stroke her hair, “I’m considering giving you your own room upstairs. Can I trust you with that?”

  She nods her head demurely. “Very well, my pet. Perhaps I’ll move you upstairs tomorrow.” If she’s a very good girl, maybe I’ll move her into the upstairs room later tonight.

  “Just remember, kitten, I’m watching you—I’m always watching you.” I tap the side of the cell phone that I’m holding up for her to see. And there it is, the fear in her eyes that makes my cock throb, every time. So I lean in and whisper in her ear, “Remember, good girls get rewarded. You belong to me now. Anyone and anything you knew before are gone. Dead and gone. I’m all you’ve got now. You would do well to remember that.”

  I hold her as she weeps.

  Chapter Forty Two

  Jack

  After I’m assured that Lady will watch her back, we say our goodbyes. I take Valerie to her car across town and follow her back to the compound. I want to read that email for myself. Although it’s not unexpected, I’m still pissed at the idea of the bastard directly threatening members of my team. I don’t even knock, just walk through Max’s door when we arrive.

  “Let me see this threatening email you were talking about.”

  “Oh, boy…” Max groans.

  Spider clicks on her email since he’s seated at her computer desk.

  “I didn’t like it either, boss. Guy’s got a hell of a lot of nerve threatening her.” Spider can see the brass balls this guy has, too. Well, this fucker’s on my turf now and I won’t stop until I take him down.

  I lean back in my chair and address everyone in the room.

  “This
is how this is going to go. We don’t have a full house yet. As you know, the recruiting phase of this operation is set to begin in earnest in a couple of weeks. But that doesn’t mean we’re not able to work a case like professionals. So I want everyone giving this case 100%. That includes you, Valerie. Consider yourself moved in—you’re staying here with me. We both know it was happening, I’m just calling it now.

  “Nobody goes in or out of that gate without me knowing it, if they aren’t an employee. Max, you don’t go anywhere without Spider, got that? Get over whatever differences the two of you have.”

  “Well, I have a date tonight with the doctor and Spider’s going—undercover—but he’s going.”

  “Date night,” Spider groans. “Where we going again? The Corral, seriously? Well, at least I’ll be able to get a decent steak. But, gee, I don’t have a thing to wear.”

  “Kiss my ass, Spider boy.”

  “Oh, you planning on serving up dessert tonight, too?” he smirks.

  “Enough with the bickering. I need your head in the game,” I snap. “You made a date with a person of interest? Damn, Max, I’m beginning to think your balls are bigger than mine.” I pin Spider with a steady look, “I don’t want her out of your sight. Nobody dies on my watch.”

  Max chuckles, “Nice to know you care.”

  “Oh, I care, alright. I care about catching this dirt bag and putting him away – preferably six feet under.”

  Chapter Forty Three

  Max

  I sigh with relief when everyone files out of my room and I finally have a moment to myself. I wipe my sweaty palms over my jeans and take deep, calming breaths as I head to my bathroom and wait for the water to heat up for my shower. I take a long shower, letting the warm water cascade over my tight shoulder and neck muscles as I visualize my strategy for the evening.

  I need to be on my toes tonight. I want to get a good read on Liam when I tell him the killer contacted me about those pearls. As I dry off, I’m grappling with the fact that Valerie still seems convinced that Liam stole them from me. I have a lot of respect for Valerie and would never dismiss her opinion out of hand. And he certainly had opportunity; he could have taken the pearls off my neck when he helped me with my wrap as we left the restaurant. But wouldn’t I have noticed? The big question is motive. Why would he want to mind fuck me like that?

  I wrap a towel around me and stand in front of my closet, pondering my next move: wardrobe. I don’t want to look eager but I also don’t want to be buttoned up like a nun. Black skinny jeans with heels and a satin magenta top with pink trim – that’ll work. I love this top. It flows yet still clings to my curves just enough to maybe be a distraction. No way am I’m going out with a guy who dresses like he models for a men’s magazine and not look my best. Some light makeup and a swipe of lip gloss and I’m ready to get dressed.

  As I rummage through my underwear drawer I remind myself that, even if I don’t think Liam did it, I have to stay on my guard because in this line of work anything is possible. I find the set I’m looking for and, as I slip on the sheer ivory lace bra and matching panties, my thoughts return to Spider. I have to laugh because, honestly, I’m more inclined to believe he could kill someone. As if picking up on my thoughts, he knocks on the door and pushes it open without a word, sauntering in like he has every right to be here.

  I freeze where I stand, my back arched, my hands lifting my damp hair up into a loose topknot that I had, only seconds earlier, decided would be too formal for a steak house. Thoughts of salad bars and free refills scatter along with all knowledge of the English language as I take in the view.

  He’s the definition of a bad boy: muscles, ink, tight white t-shirt, skull cap, and five o clock shadow. In other words, sex on a stick. The guy is gorgeous and an arrogant ass -- the perfect recipe for trouble. And, judging by the flush of color on his high cheekbones and the way his black eyes are burning a slow path up and down my body, he likes what he sees.

  The open door allows in a gust of cool air, which is certainly the only thing that could explain why my nipples have pebbled against the nearly transparent fabric of my bra. It couldn’t be because of him – after all, my nipples always get hard when it’s cold and--

  Shit! It finally registers in my shell-shocked brain that Spider is in my room and I’m wearing next to nothing. My hands abruptly drop to my sides, releasing a cascade of hair over my shoulders. Spider tracks the movement, his eyes becoming heavy-lidded and his nostrils flaring as he takes a purposeful step toward me.

  It takes everything I have not to cross my arms over my chest and shriek at the top of my lungs for him to get out. Instead, I thrust my hand out in front of me, palm forward, and, yeah, position my other hand firmly over my peaked nipples – the little traitors. He stops in his tracks with a scowl, his lips pressed into a thin line as he narrows his eyes. With my heart thudding against my ribs, I twirl the index finger of my outstretched hand in a small circle in front of me, signaling him to turn around.

  “Turn around right goddamn now, Spider,” I hiss, trying to sound as menacing as it is possible to sound when clad only in lingerie– and really sheer lingerie, at that. He stares at me for a long moment and I swear the air crackles between us. He pointedly stares at my panties and I realize that he probably sees the damp patch that has appeared at the juncture of my thighs. He meets my gaze with a knowing smile, takes one last look down south before putting his hands up in mock surrender and turning around.

  “You got it, sweet cheeks,” he drawls.

  I roll my eyes and get dressed in record time, not wanting to waste a second before I lay into him for barging into my room. All I need to do now is run a brush through my hair. I turn toward the dresser and am greeted by Spider’s indolent gaze in the mirror’s reflection. Son of a bitch! I just can’t win with this guy.

  “You said turn around. I turned around.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed and purse my lips, beyond pissed that he treated himself to a spectacular view of my ass and everything in between when I slid into my jeans. I remind myself that murder is illegal for a reason. But, oh, if it weren’t…

  Suddenly his black eyes are cutting through me accusingly. “You always break out the nice lingerie for a steak dinner? Do you have plans for later tonight that I should know about?”

  “Fuck you, Spider,” I snap as I grab the hairbrush from the dresser and yank it through my hair.

  “If I didn’t know any better, Max, I’d almost think you’re more than just curious about the guy. Maybe you’re a little more uppity than you like to think you are.”

  Spider’s eyeing me with a mixture of contempt and lust that’s confusing the hell out of me. He acts like he hates me most of the time. But now that he’s seen ‘the goods,’ he looks like he wants to throw me down and fuck me senseless. I face him with my hands on my hips in an attempt to regain a little dignity after my accidental strip show.

  “Did you come here to rag on me or do your job?” I don’t give him time to answer before I continue, “You know, it’d be nice if you waited until I answered the door. Guess I’ll have to start locking it.”

  The cocky smirk on his face lets me know that he’s about to make one of his smart ass remarks.

  “Wouldn’t matter, sweet cheeks -- I’ve got my own set of keys.” I reach out to grab them and he does what a bully on a playground would do – he dangles them over his head, just out of my reach. Finally, he lowers them, only to jerk them back up when I make another attempt to get them.

  “You’ve got no business with my room key!” I hiss through tight lips. This guy has a way of infuriating me like no other.

  “I beg to differ, sweet cheeks—“

  “Stop fucking calling me that!”

  “Jack told me to watch you. So, really, I was only doing my job.”

  That does it, I’m done. I snatch my purse off the bed and stomp around him toward the door. My breath catches in my throat when his hand locks like a vice grip on my upper
arm and he pulls me none too gently toward him.

  “Max, listen…” he starts, his eyes softening for just a moment before they meet fuming gaze and promptly go into a deep freeze. He releases my arm like he’s been burnt and storms out the door.

  What the hell is wrong with this guy? I don’t have time for this now. I hustle out to my car and get in. As usual, the first thing I do is lock the doors. The second thing? I touch my fingertips to my neck, instinctively searching for a strand of pearls that isn’t there.

  Max

  I grab my purse, get out of the car, and make sure I lock it before I cross the parking lot. A chill runs through me as I remember the gruesome surprise I found in the front seat the one time I left it unlocked. It was the sick son of bitch’s way of telling me I better listen to him. He’s backing me into a corner and I don’t like it. I need to know who this guy is. Maybe tonight I’ll find out.

  Once again Liam is waiting by the door. After leaning down to kiss my cheek, he opens the door for me and gestures for me to go in. The perfect gentleman, he is once again dressed in a dark suit with Italian leather designer shoes and all the accessories like cufflinks that go with it. He looks the part of a successful surgeon. The only question is, is he a successful serial killer too?

  “You look beautiful. It intrigues me how easily you transform from a tomboy to a beautiful young woman.” He continues talking as we follow the hostess to a booth. “I’m certain you have your share of male suitors.”

  “I’m not really interested in dating right now. I’ve got my hands full just focusing on my career.”

  “I see.” He waits for me to slide in the booth before settling into his own seat. After we’ve ordered beverages he continues, “Then I’ll just consider myself lucky to be the man spending the evening with you.”