by Kat Martin
“I hope so.” Jase kissed her again. “You got any idea how much I want you?”
If his erection was any measure, at least as much as she wanted him. She rested her palms on his heavily muscled chest. “Please, Jason. I have to finish this first. I can’t think about pleasure when my sister is lying dead on a slab in the morgue.”
He released a deep, shuddering breath and stepped away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Her eyes met his. “Me, too.”
When she started to turn away, he pulled her back into his arms. “When this is over, you’re mine.”
Kate looked at his hard, handsome face. “Yes,” was all she said.
CHAPTER TEN
It was late afternoon the next day when Tabby called Jase at The Max. “I got those names you wanted,” she said. “Guys with arrest records in the last two years for assaulting prostitutes.”
“Good work, Tab.”
“Three guys look like possibles. The first two were charged with assaults that happened in the East Dallas area. All three are currently out of jail, either served their time or were arrested but never convicted. I’ll send the info to your phone.”
“Give me their names.” He knew a lot of scumbags. It was essential to the job.
“Guy named Marco Bandini beat a hooker nearly to death with his fists just for fun. The woman wouldn’t press charges. DA didn’t have enough to pursue the case without her.”
“Sounds like a real nice guy.” And not a scumbag he knew.
“The second is a high-priced accountant named Preston Wells. Works for Crocker, Reynolds & Associates, CPAs. Good ol’ Pres was into S&M. Big-time into bondage. Tied the woman up and beat her with a belt, pushed it too far and she ended up in the hospital. Because the sex was consensual and he had an expensive attorney, he got the charges dropped.”
He hadn’t met that scumbag, either—not yet.
“Guy number three is Terry McCollom. He liked them young, liked to put them in a studded collar, slap them around and do them doggie style. Hurt one of them pretty badly and went to jail. He got out a couple of weeks ago.”
Right around the time Tina Galen was killed, which definitely made him a suspect. “I’ll check them out. Thanks, Tab.”
Jase ended the call and brought up the info Tabby had sent him. The last known location for Terry McCollom was closest to the office, but when Jase arrived at the apartment, McCollom wasn’t there. The landlord said he’d tossed him out for unpaid rent before he went to jail, and hadn’t seen him since.
He mentioned a friend of McCollom’s named Toby Doyle who lived around the corner, said Doyle might know where to find him. Jase paid Toby a visit and for a few bucks, the guy gave him McCollom’s new address.
McCollom wasn’t home, but the landlord verified he was a tenant. The day was shot, and since Jase had plans with Kate for the evening, he decided he’d go back to see McCollom tomorrow.
It was 11:00 p.m. when Jase pulled up beneath the portico in front of Kate’s apartment building. He’d considered picking her up earlier, taking her out to dinner before they headed back to Old East Dallas to find Lollipop. But until her sister’s murder was solved and he could pursue the attraction they shared, the less time he spent with her the better.
Kate stirred him up in ways a woman never had, arousing his curiosity, his protective instincts, his surprisingly possessive nature, and sure as hell arousing his libido.
Half the time he was with her he had a hard-on. She was trouble he really didn’t need, and yet he had promised to help her find her sister’s killer. He was determined to do that no matter what it took.
He glanced through the glass front doors into the lobby as Kate stepped out of the elevator, breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t wearing her hooker garb. Instead, she wore a scoop-neck pale blue top, and black jeans tucked into low-heeled, knee-high black leather boots.
He almost smiled. Maybe she figured the boots would be easier to run in if she needed to make another quick getaway.
Kate’s long blond hair, woven into a single thick braid, swung across her shoulders as she opened the SUV door and slid into the passenger seat. He itched to wrap a hand around that sexy braid and drag her across the seat into his lap. Damn, the woman turned him on.
Reminding himself to behave, Jase started the engine and pulled out onto the road to Old East Dallas. He glanced over at Kate. She looked tired. But then, bar fights with an army of drunks had a tendency to wear you out.
“Rough day?” he asked.
Kate sighed. “Andrew came by to see me.”
Jase tensed. He didn’t like Andrew Bradley. He liked him hound-dogging Kate even less. “What’d he want?” As if he didn’t know.
“He asked me to go to the Dallas Symphony on Saturday night. Mozart’s Piano Concerto.”
He cocked a dark eyebrow. “You into that kind of thing?”
“I enjoy classical music.” She grinned. “I’d rather go country-western dancing.”
Jase smiled, told himself he didn’t feel a sweep of relief. “Good to know.” His gaze slid back to the road. “So, you going out with him?”
“Hell no. Been there done that. Not interested in doing it again.”
Even better.
“What about you?” Kate asked. “Make any progress on the case?”
He hit his turn signal and passed a beater Toyota loping along the road in front of him. “Tabby called. Came up with three names, guys arrested for assaulting prostitutes.” He told her how he’d already tracked the location of one the men and planned to see him tomorrow.
“I want to go with you,” Kate said. “I want to be there when you talk to him.”
She’d told him from the start she wanted to be involved. Talking to a suspect shouldn’t be as dangerous as going to Mean Jack’s or even as risky as what they were doing tonight. Shouldn’t being the key word. You never knew what could happen when you were dealing with scum like these guys. On the other hand, a deal was a deal.
“I figured. I’ll pick you up at ten. That’ll give us both time to check in at work.”
It wasn’t long before he was cruising the same street they had been on last night. Mean Jack’s was up ahead, the lot more than half full. Next to it sat the Sunshine Station, gas and convenience store, a run-down, glass-fronted structure with a wide awning out front that extended over a pair of outdated gas pumps. The Sunshine Motel sat behind it.
Tall lampposts in the parking lot cast light on a pair of rough-looking men who leaned against the gas station wall smoking cigarettes or maybe joints. At the moment, there were no women around.
Jase pulled up to one of the gas pumps and turned off the engine. “I don’t see anyone in the store except the guy behind the counter. I’ll gas up while you go see what you can find out.”
She looked surprised he would let her go in by herself, but he’d rather be outside where he could keep an eye on things. He used his credit card to start the pump, jammed the nozzle into the tank and began filling up.
He glanced over at the men. He didn’t like the looks of the big dark male, clearly not a customer, who appeared to be waiting for someone. He didn’t like the tall, skinny dude beside him any better.
But then pimps were never his favorite people.
* * *
Kate made her way to the convenience store. The Texas night was warm and damp, a moist wind drifting over the landscape. Beyond the glass door, the air smelled like lube oil and cloying perfume.
Kate walked over to the Coke machine, filled a cup with ice and Diet Coke, then went up to the counter to pay for it. Her eyes widened at the sight of a fishbowl filled with foil-wrapped condoms. A handwritten sign on one side read $.50 CENTS. Her gaze flashed to the man behind the counter, narrow-faced, with fine brown hair and a bald spot at the back of his head.
He just shrug
ged. “They’re big sellers here.”
Her stomach tightened but she managed to smile. “I’m looking for a woman named Lollie. I hear she works in the neighborhood.”
His filmy blue eyes slid over her like cold grease. “I wouldn’t have picked you for the type.”
It took a moment to realize he thought she wanted a sexual encounter with a female. Kate raised her chin. “I didn’t see any women outside. Do you think she’ll be here tonight?”
“So eager.” A lecherous grin curled his lips. “Maybe a man can give you what you want. I’d be happy to try.”
Her irritation grew. She propped her hands on her hips and drilled him with a glare. “I asked you a question. Do. You. Know. If. Lollie will be here tonight?”
The guy seemed to wither. “Take it easy, okay? Lollie’s here most nights. Sometimes she works somewhere else. You never know with a whore.” He flicked his unshaven chin toward the door. “You can ask Snoopy—the tall, skinny guy outside. He’s her pimp.”
The man she’d seen when they drove in. Had her sister been one of Snoopy’s women, too? It made her sick to think of it. But if it were true, he could be involved in her murder.
She paid for the Diet Coke then walked out the door, saw that Jase had pulled the Yukon away from the pumps and parked it in the lot. He was standing over by the wall, talking to the two men.
The big, dark-skinned man tipped his head in her direction as she approached, but spoke to Jase. “What you need with Lollipop when you got a white bitch looks like that?”
Kate answered for him. “I’m into women.” She flashed a phony smile. “Both of us are. Sometimes we like to share.”
She caught Jase’s flash of amusement before he turned back to the men. He pulled out a pair of twenties tucked into the pocket of his black T-shirt and handed them to Snoopy. “We’ll be back to see Lollie tomorrow night.”
“You sure it’s gotta be her?” Snoopy asked. “Here comes Kiki. She’s an even hotter bitch than Lollie. Take good care of you both.”
Jase just shook his head. “We’ll be back for Lollie.” Turning, he waved to the men over his shoulder as he led Kate back to the Yukon. Until that moment, she hadn’t noticed the outline of the small semiautomatic pistol shoved into his front jeans pocket, but she felt better knowing it was there.
Her college boyfriend had taught her how to shoot a gun. She’d thought it might be a useful thing to learn. As she climbed into the vehicle and cast a last glance around the seedy area, she figured she might have been right.
Across the lot, a couple of working girls approached the two men, one African American, short and overweight, with frizzy orange hair, the other a young Latina. From their gaudy, barely there skirts and low-cut blouses, clearly they were prostitutes.
“You don’t think one of those women could be Lollie?” Kate asked, her pulse picking up at the thought.
“Lollie’s a white girl. Snoopy says she’s working, pulling an all-nighter at the motel. She’ll be available tomorrow night at ten. I promised him triple her usual fee.”
Kate looked back at the women. The younger girl, so thin she looked anorexic, had to be on drugs. Kate thought of her sister and a soft pang moved through her.
Jase fired the engine and started to drive away, slowed before they reached the street, and Kate realized he was watching the bigger of the two men. The guy was shaking the Latina girl, slapping her again and again.
“He’s hitting her!” Kate said. “We have to help her.” She cracked the door, but Jase caught her arm and dragged her back inside.
“It’s part of the life and none of our business. If you want to find out what happened to your sister, you need to stay out of it. Besides, you’ll only make it worse for her after we’re gone.”
Anger had her trembling. She took a steadying breath, knowing Jason was right. If they made an enemy of Snoopy or one of his friends, they would never get the information they needed. And after they left, her pimp might hurt the girl even worse.
The two women were standing together now, the punishment over. Jase pulled out of the lot. Kate fastened her belt and glanced back out the window.
“That guy’s big and he’s strong,” she said. “We know Snoopy is Lollie’s pimp but maybe the big guy was Chrissy’s... I mean Tina’s. Maybe he beat her and ended up killing her.”
He nodded. “Zepeda’s definitely on the suspect list. But we can’t move too fast. Let’s talk to Lollie first, see what she knows, find out if Eli’s involved. We don’t want them all clamming up or disappearing before we get the info we need.”
“Eli. You sound like you know him.”
“I know him, didn’t recognize him at first. Elijah Zepeda is a real bad mother. He’s half Mexican, half black and hard as nails.”
Kate fell silent. They had a lot of murder suspects, and all of them were very bad news. Maybe tomorrow night, Lollie could help them narrow down the list.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jase picked Kate up the following morning, and they headed for the first stop on their suspect list—Terry McCollom. McCollom was just getting out of bed when they arrived at around ten thirty, his red hair sticking straight up, three or four days’ worth of rusty whiskers on his slack-jawed face.
“Who the hell are you and what do you want?” Terry asked, scratching his bony, naked chest. At least he’d had the sense to pull on a pair of baggy jeans.
“Name’s Jason Maddox. We’d like to talk to you about a girl named Tina Galen.” He flicked a glance at Kate. “The lady was her friend.”
“You a cop?”
“I work private.”
“Yeah? Let me see your badge.”
Anticipating this kind of day, Jase reached into the pocket of the navy blazer he was wearing, pulled out his badge wallet and flipped it open, displaying his PI license. Same as last night, his little .380 semiauto rested comfortably in the right front pocket of his dark blue jeans.
“Fine, so you’re not a cop. What do you want?”
Jase reached back inside his jacket and took out a photo he had printed off the internet of Tina, bare-breasted, in nothing but a tiny red thong. Kate made a sound in her throat when he flashed it at McCollom, but there was no help for it. “She look familiar?” he asked.
“No. I been in jail for the last six months. Get the hell out of here and leave me alone.” McCollom tried to slam the door, but Jase blocked it with his boot.
“You’ve been out three weeks. Plenty of time to enjoy a pretty young thing like Tina. You sure you never knew her?”
“She’s blond. I go for redheads.” His lips curled. “I like to pretend she’s my sister. Now leave me alone.”
Disgust curled in the pit of Jase’s stomach. He stepped back and the door slammed closed. Unfortunately, he believed the son of a bitch. The guy liked young redheads, not blondes. When he turned to Kate, the color had leached from her face.
“Come on.” He set a steadying hand at her waist. “Let’s get out of here.” Kate made no reply, just let him guide her back to the street, around to her side of the Yukon, and help her climb into the seat.
He closed the door and went around to his side of the car. “I’m really sorry, honey. I can see how hard this is on you. Why don’t you let me handle things from here on out? I give you my word, I’ll do everything in my power to find your sister’s killer.”
Tears leaked from her big brown eyes and ran down her cheeks. Kate wiped them away with a shaky hand. “I knew there were people like that in the world, but it’s different when you actually meet them, hear the terrible things they say, the awful way they treat other people.”
“Baby, you don’t have to do this. Let me take you home.”
Kate just shook her head. “I started this. I’m going to finish it. Let’s go.”
Jase silently cursed. Shoving his key into the ignition, he star
ted the engine and buckled his seat belt.
“What’s the next name on your list?” Kate asked, stoic once more.
He sighed. “Guy named Preston Wells. He’s an accountant, works for a company called Crocker, Reynolds & Associates. Wells is into S&M. Arrested for beating a hooker with a belt. Hurt her bad enough to put her in the hospital. Hired a fancy lawyer and got the charges dropped.”
“Crocker, Reynolds is a very prestigious firm. I’m surprised they’d have a guy like that on the payroll.”
“Like I said, he was never prosecuted.”
“Maybe he learned his lesson and stayed out of trouble after that.”
“Guy with a serious kink usually ends up a repeat offender, but I suppose there’s always a chance.”
Kate settled back in the seat. “Let’s find out.”
Jase punched the company address into the Yukon’s GPS and pulled out into the street. Crocker, Reynolds was located in a high-rise building in the 700 block of St. Paul Street. Jase pulled into the underground garage and found a parking space.
Kate rode quietly beside him as the elevator rose to the eighth floor, which was entirely occupied by the accounting firm. The doors dinged open into the plush reception area, with steel gray carpet, dark wood paneling, expensive sculptures on the tables and seascapes on the walls.
Jase stepped back, allowing Kate to take the lead. This was her kind of gig. He figured a businesswoman might get further than a bounty hunter, even if he was currently working as a private dick. And she was dressed more conservatively today, in a pair of khaki pants, sandals and a short-sleeved blue print blouse.
She headed for the receptionist’s desk and gave the small, dark-haired older woman behind the counter a smile. “Hello. My name is Kate Gallagher. I’d like to see Preston Wells.”
“Do you have an appointment, Ms. Gallagher?”
“I’m afraid not. I was hoping Mr. Wells might be able to fit me in. I only need a few minutes.” Kate opened her purse, pulled out a business card and handed it over.
