by Measha Stone
“Separate.” He grabbed another fry. “Yeah, that’s not really going to work for me.”
Her stomach fluttered, and it had nothing to do with hunger pangs. “Why not?”
“Because last night, when you fainted, I could have just carried you to the medic office and gone back to the game. But I didn’t.”
“And now you think I owe you something?” She fisted both hands.
“No. And really, you need to watch that tone with me.” He lifted her fork and stabbed a tomato from her salad. “I didn’t leave you there and go play because, after seeing you there, I didn’t really want to play with some random girl. I wanted to play with you.” He plucked the tomato from the fork with his teeth.
Her breath caught. It wouldn’t come or go. She’d heard him wrong.
“And before you say more about us working together, I’ve already thought of that.”
“Scott.” She blinked a few times. “It would completely get in the way of our work.” And she didn’t want to move districts again. Starting over again in a new place, a new precinct. No, not again.
“How new are you to the scene. Really?” He took a bite of his burger.
“New.” Maybe if she answered him, and he could see how impossible it was, he’d drop the matter entirely.
“And you were approved for Black Light membership and a spot at the roulette game?” He didn’t bother masking his suspicion.
Her heart picked up speed. She’d never been good at out and out lying. Doing it on paper hadn’t been hard, but with his focus acutely concentrated on her in that moment, her palms sweated.
“I wasn’t exactly honest on that part of the application. I may have embellished my experience a bit.”
“So, you lied,” he said in a flat tone. No wiggle room on the subject apparently.
“Yes. But It’s not like I haven’t been around the BDSM world or learned as much as I could. I’ve just never been successful at it.”
“Specifics.”
“I brought the subject up with a few boyfriends over the years. A couple tried, but it didn’t work for them or me, so we broke it off. I’ve read everything I can get my hands on, been to a few demonstrations, have a profile on a few kink sites. That’s about it.”
“Tell me about the boyfriends.”
“I don’t see—”
“Didn’t ask you to, asked you to tell me about your boyfriends.” His voice dipped. He wasn’t giving her the playboy grin she’d gotten used to. Now, his jaw tensed as he talked.
She heaved a sigh but answered him. “Two of them gave it a try. But they weren’t into making rules and stuff. They liked a little spanking during sex, but that was it. I didn’t help matters by totally sucking at following any rule they set.” She decided to dive into her lunch. If her mouth was full of hamburger, she couldn’t answer him so easily.
“So, they didn’t enforce the rules?”
She shook her head and took another bite. She’d already let the conversation get completely derailed. Any further participation from her could only make it worse.
“But they liked the spanking for sexual purposes, so you have been spanked?”
Did he have to ask the question as if asking if she’d been to see a movie recently?
She nodded again and took a bite of her salad.
“And you joined Black Light but didn’t have enough courage to go until last night because last night you would have been paired with someone. So, no threat of rejection, and you’d probably get to meet someone who was actually into the scene and not someone you’d have to convince.”
“This is why you’re such a good detective,” she said, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth.
“So, say you got paired with someone, and his kinks didn’t match yours. What then?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if you met a sadist who was only into pain play and had no interest in taking his domination out of the bedroom. There’s a lot of people in the scene who really only like the dominant-submissive dynamic in a sexual sense. They don’t bring it into other areas of their relationship.”
“How can they do that? I mean, I get how. I just don’t see how that works, though. I don’t think I could submit in one area and not the others.”
“Good. I’m the same way. Well, just swap the submissive for dominant.”
Fuck.
“Scott, we can’t.”
“You haven’t told me why.” He pulled her plate away from her when she reached for her burger. “Answer me first.”
She grabbed a napkin and wiped her fingertips. Delicious burger.
“I just said I don’t think I’d be able to leave it in the bedroom. And we are partners. How could I leave it at home if I’m with you all day long?”
He pushed the plate back to her, and she lifted her burger. Her appetite had waned pretty heavily during the conversation, but starting a new case meant long hours. She wouldn’t get dinner until much later.
“Do you think a submissive is less intelligent than her dominant? Do you think the dominant can’t let the submissive lead when the situation calls for it?”
She didn’t answer, just took another bite of her burger.
“Subs aren’t less intelligent—you wouldn’t suddenly become less able to do your job. Dominants, smart ones, and ones who aren’t assholes, can see when their subs have more experience or know-how in different situations, and give them the lead. I, as a dominant, expect my sub to be able to carry on an intelligent conversation. I expect my submissive to grow and achieve all of her goals. And I’m not the all-knowing and powerful Oz, just because I make the rules, and just because I enforce the rules doesn’t mean I can’t learn from my submissive.”
“We’ve been working together for the past month. And never once during that time did you see me in a romantic light. Just because you saw me at that club last night doesn’t really change that.” She tossed her napkin onto the plate. Her stomach couldn’t take anymore. Of the food or the conversation.
Women dreamed about men like Scott. Smart, funny, delicious to stare at—no way he was getting involved with her. It just didn’t happen. And the last thing she needed was to blow what she had. A good job in a good district.
“Actually, Sophie, it changed everything,” he said. “You don’t know what I was thinking before. I’m not blind. I can see how beautiful you are. But I learned a long time ago not to waste my time on a vanilla woman. I don’t want to change them to fit my needs any more than I want to change to fit theirs. When I saw you at the club, it was like getting the green light.”
“It won’t work. It’s a bad idea.”
“So, says you. And who has all the experience here, me or you?”
“That’s not a fair card to play.” She pointed at him.
“You’re right, it’s not. Look, we’ll go slow. Real slow. As slow as you need. Dinner. Let’s have dinner tomorrow night.”
“The case—”
“During the day, we talk about the case. At night, at lunch, we only talk about us. Personal lives happen during off hours. “
He was crazy.
But she was worse because she wanted to believe him.
“Fine. Dinner tomorrow night. It’s just dinner, right?”
“Yes. After dinner I’ll have you kneel and suck me off all night, maybe throw some hot wax on you, you know, the usual.”
She felt her face contort before she could stop it. He laughed and slapped the table.
“Just dinner. I was kidding.”
“I knew you were kidding. It just wasn’t funny.” She grabbed the check which Sandra had dropped off during their talk. Sophie had been so distracted, she hadn’t noticed. Had the old woman heard what they were saying?
Sophie grabbed her jacket and coat from beside her and scooted out of the booth. He followed right behind her.
“What’s funny is you thinking I’m letting you pay for lunch.” He reached over her and snatched the bill from her han
d just as they arrived at the cash register. Sandra appeared to handle the exchange of cash with Scott.
“See, I can’t even let you pay for lunch,” she barbed.
He smiled, took his change from Sandra after leaving her with a healthy tip, and gestured to the door.
“Don’t worry about any of that. Right now, just worry about getting to my place for dinner tomorrow night and figuring out if we are ruling Mrs. Moneybucks’ death a murder or a suicide.”
“You have doubts, too?”
“Yeah. Something felt wrong there. We should be able to watch the video this afternoon.”
“Good. I have a feeling there’s something in it that will give us what we need to decide,” Sophie said and got in her car. She hadn’t even realized they’d walked outside and to her car. He’d distracted her with work.
Point—Scott.
Damn.
Chapter 5
It took until the next afternoon to be able to see the video or get any information from the evidence taken from the scene. Tentatively, the case was ruled a suicide, but it hadn’t been formally filed.
“Okay, it’s ready.” Sophie patted his shoulder and headed toward the AV room. She’d been successful avoiding any sort of personal conversation since their lunch. Which was fine. It gave him time to sort out what he really wanted with her. She may appear and act tough, but there was something gentle beneath all that exterior. And taking things too fast, forcing things would only break her.
While he’d been in half a dozen relationships that had dominance and submission as the foundation, Sophie had none. At least none that were handled successfully. First thing he needed her to see was she didn’t suck at submission. Of course, she hadn’t seen it, but he had. How easily she’d followed his lead at the club, at her apartment. Hell, even at lunch, with all her resistance, she’d answered his questions honestly and didn’t outright tell him to shove off.
Scott followed her into the darkened room and took a seat beside her in front of the computer monitor. Craig the tech guru brought up the footage.
The dark screen sputtered to life with bright lighting. The camera focused on the victim’s face. Tears welled in the crystal blue eyes of the victim, her salon-gifted blonde hair pulled back into a bun, showcasing the single-pearl drop earrings that matched the string of pearls around her neck.
“Who gets dolled up for a suicide?” Scott asked.
“I…I don’t think—” The victim shook her head. “Please. I—”
The camera shook. “I can’t. I’m just so sorry. Please for—I just can’t,” she pleaded with the camera, tears streaking her face. Mascara ran freely, marring her porcelain face.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed as the barrel of a pistol came into view at her right temple. “Please,” she cried out, just before the shot rang and she was thrown from the view of the camera lens.
Sophie moved closer to the screen, her head tilted to the right. She’d spotted something. Scott let her examine the footage without question.
“How long does this video run?” she asked, sitting back from the monitor.
“An hour and a half,” Craig said.
“And the battery?”
“It was dead when it came in but depending on how much was already left on it, it wouldn’t really tell us much anyway.”
“Can you tell if the video cut off before the battery died?” Scott asked, seeing where Sophie was headed.
“No. The camera she used has a thirteen-hour consecutive-record function. So as long as the battery was working and it was recording, I don’t think it would have stopped.”
“Unless someone else turned it off,” Sophie said, turning back the video. “Play it again.” She scooted her chair a little closer.
Scott watched the screen, the victim, the crying, the gunshot.
“Again,” she said.
“What are you looking for?” Scott asked, examining the images flashing before him more closely.
“Like you said, who gets dolled up for a suicide? If it was an on-the-fly decision, she wouldn’t have taken the time to set up the camera and make a show of it. See how perfectly center she is in the screen? If it was calculated and well thought out, would she be so distraught right before?” Sophie touched the screen where streaks of tears appeared on the woman’s face.
“Stop here.” Scott reached across Sophie to pause the video. He tapped on the victim’s expression. “She’s not looking at the camera, here. She’s focused just to the right of it.”
“Think she was talking to someone, not the camera?” Sophie asked. She wore perfume or had changed her body wash. She normally had a fresh-towel sort of scent, but he could definitely pick up traces of lavender.
“Scott, see?” she said, when he didn’t answer right away.
“Yeah. Turn it back on.” He cleared his throat. If he was going to prove to her they could work together and still have something in their personal lives, he needed to keep his head in the game and his dick in his pants.
“You guys got this,” Craig said. “Just turn it off when you’re done.” And he left.
Sophie hit the button, and they returned to watching the scene unfold.
“Wait. Let’s go back,” she said during the sixth viewing then worked the video backward. “Watch.” She pointed the to the screen.
“Please for—I can’t,” the victim said.
“There!” Sophie jammed her finger into the monitor.
“What? I didn’t see anything.” Scott leaned in.
“Right after she says she can’t.” Sophie rewound again. “There. The wiggle.”
“Play it again,” Scott said.
And there it was. Right after the vic said she couldn’t, the video glitched.
“It’s like the recording stopped and started again, right?” Sophie said with a triumphant smile on her face.
“Yeah. Rewind once more, a little further back this time,” he said. “Where does the gun come from? We can’t see her hands, but her body never shifts. Her shoulders don’t move, but she raised a gun to her head?”
Sophie wound back to the beginning. “Fuck, you’re right. This was no suicide.”
“Nope. This was murder.”
“Does the ME have anything for us yet?” Sophie asked, still grinning.
“Let’s go over there and see. The sooner we have the time and cause of death, the better.” He clicked the monitor off and pulled her chair out for her. She paused at his action but didn’t comment on it.
He’d pulled her chair out for her before; this wasn’t the first time. But, this time, she seemed to notice.
Dr. Dan Greene, the medical examiner on their case, met them at the door.
“I just called up for you. They said you were headed down.” He shook Scott’s hand then Sophie’s.
“Do you have anything for us?” Sophie asked, pointing at the victim lying on the middle metal table in the room. The other two tables were empty.
“Well, cause of death was gunshot to the head, obviously.” Dr. Greene flashed a grimacing smile and led them to the table. A white sheet covered the body to her neck, exposing only her head.
Dan took a pencil from his lab coat and pointed to the wound on her right temple.
“These burn marks caught my attention, though.” He pointed at the dark tissue surrounding the wound. “In a suicide, usually the barrel is pushed against the temple. Which leaves a bruise along with the burn from the shot itself. But there’s no bruise here, and the burn isn’t just around the wound but spread out from it. Like the gun wasn’t pressed to the head.” Dr. Greene mimicked the action, forming a gun with his hand and showing them where it would be placed on his head.
“Like someone else held the gun?” Scott asked. “There’s footage of the shot,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, and it wasn’t pressed against her head. Just like he’s saying,” Sophie pointed out.
“We don’t think it was suicide, but we need your official ruling before we in
vestigate further,” Scott said.
Dr. Greene pulled the sheet up to cover the body completely. No matter how many times he saw it, seeing what a gunshot does to the human body still sent shivers through his body. Between his tours in Afghanistan and years on the force, he’d seen it too often.
“This wasn’t suicide. There are no hesitation marks, no other bruising, I don’t think she even pulled the trigger. I know you say it’s on tape, but—” He sucked in a long breath and shook his head.
“Yeah, but no hand. The video was zoomed in on her face. There’s no hand in the screen,” Sophie pointed out.
“We should look at it again, make sure we don’t see something. A finger or something. Maybe it can tell us if the shooter was even female. Thanks, Dr. Green.” Scott shook his hand again and placed his palm on the small of Sophie’s back.
“Can you send your formal report directly to me? I’ll read over it tonight,” Sophie said.
Scott put pressure on her back, guiding her toward the door. “Don’t you have plans tonight?” he asked, trying to sound casual but putting his authoritative spin on his tone.
“I’m sure I’ll have time,” she said.
“I’m sure you won’t,” he whispered for her ears only and opened the door for her.
She gave him a side glance and walked through, giving him, another look over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs.
Chapter 6
Sophie gripped the bottle of wine with two hand and stared at the doorbell to his condo. Not an apartment. A condo. In one of the most upscale buildings in Alexandria.
She really shouldn’t be surprised. He was a member of Black Light, after all, and that membership didn’t come cheap.
Her mind flip-flopped the entire drive over on her decision to keep the date she planned with Scott. During the five minutes she’d spent applying a thin layer of mascara, she’d checked off all the reasons going would be good for her. An evening out wouldn’t kill her, he might be able to help her with becoming a better submissive, and, worst-case scenario they could work on the case.
