Dirty Sexy Murder

by Cathleen Ross

  “That’s right. Or I can do a ‘Clitler.’”

  Serena laughed. “I can imagine what that is. Actually, I want the Full Brazilian wax today. I’m celebrating something special.”

  Warning bells rang in Marina’s mind.

  Oh no! She was not going there. She was not going to ask what Serena was celebrating by having a Brazilian. The last time she’d asked, her client had issued her an invitation to join the Swinging Sixties. It was never something simple like a birthday or an engagement.

  “If you’d like to lie on the massage table, I’ll get started,” she said in her most business-like manner. When Serena was settled, she flipped Serena’s gown to one side, prepped the area and loaded a spatula with hot wax.

  “I’m celebrating because I’ve had my drapes done.”

  Marina tested the wax with her index finger. “You’re redecorating?” she asked, glad the conversation had steered to safe waters.

  “I suppose you could say that. I spent eight thousand dollars having my drapes raised.”

  Now why was she getting that sinking feeling that Serena was not talking about doing up her home?

  Serena raised herself on her elbows and looked downward. “I paid for a designer vagina.”

  Marina understood what she had heard, but it still didn’t resonate. But maybe, just maybe, it was because she didn’t want to go there. She looked her client in the eyes because it was either look at her there or stare at something else. “You’ve had surgery?”

  “Yes. I hated the way my inner labia looked so I had them trimmed with a laser.”

  Marina gagged. She put her hand in front of her mouth and hoped the noise sounded like a cough. “Excuse me,” she muttered.

  “Now they’re neat like the nude girls you see in magazines.”

  “You paid to look like a nude model?”

  Slut.

  The word was whispered in the air.

  Marina jumped. Involuntarily, she looked around the cubicle, yet all the time she knew the voice was in her head. Just like before her last client was murdered. Get lost, she said in her mind, summoning her will power to make it go away.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Serena.

  “Nothing.”

  She hadn’t said the word ‘slut’. It was not a word she used and she certainly did not think about her client in that way.

  “I know it probably sounds strange having surgery down there, but women pay big money to get breast implants. Why is it any different paying to improve the look of my vagina?” Serena explained, seeming to sense her unease.

  “I guess it isn’t.” Marina clenched her thighs at the thought of a laser anywhere near her privates. “It’s a lot of money to do a procedure that no one sees.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m not going to let myself grow cobwebs.”

  Marina put a strip of hot wax between Serena’s thighs and ripped. “So I see.”

  Serena laughed.

  Marina smiled at her client’s forthright response. The evil voice inside her head was silent. She prayed she had willed it away. Hoped that, in some way, she had the power to do so.

  She continued with her work, waxing her client’s inner thigh and bikini line. Serena didn’t flinch with the pain as did clients. Maybe she was one of those people who could cope. “Did it hurt? You know...um...the drape raising?”

  “I bled into my underwear for days.”

  “Ugh!” Why did she ask, thought Marina as her stomach rolled. She’d eaten a sausage for breakfast and it sat hard in her stomach. Why didn’t she just stick to waxing and not ask questions?

  Stupid whore.

  An icy shiver shot up Marina’s spine. The voice was back. Present somehow. Waiting to strike again. Damn him!

  “It hurt like hell, but I’m glad I did it.”

  Fingers jerking with the movement of her work, Marina increased her pace. Her temples throbbed and she wondered whether she was going to get another migraine. How could she stop this murderer who seemed to be invading her life? Was Serena the next victim?

  “I’m thinking of going back to the doctor. I’m sure one of my drapes is longer than the other.”

  Vain bitch.

  Marina jumped. She bit her bottom lip tasting blood. “Don’t!” Her throat was tight.

  Serena looked at her questioningly.

  “I see a lot of women in this job.” She grasped for words. “I see all sorts of drapes from Austrian blinds to Venetians. You’re perfectly normal. Spend your money on shoes. You’ll get a lot of enjoyment out of those.”

  Serena laughed. “You’re really nice, you know that?”

  “Thanks.” She frowned with concentration, working rapidly, trying to think of how to keep her client safe. Dani and Adele had died after meeting a stranger online. She glanced at Serena, determined to find out more about her so she could keep her safe. “How long are you in Sydney for?” she asked, searching for a way to find out more about Serena’s personal life.

  “Just another couple of days, then I’m flying back to Melbourne at the weekend.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I work in computers. I’ve just been in our boring capital, Canberra, for a trade fair, staying at the Hillion. Gosh the place is dull.”

  “That’s where my boyfriend was staying. He says the same thing about Canberra.” Marina felt her cheeks redden at the thought of James. That’s what he was though, her boyfriend. “Do you know James Worth?”

  Serena shook her head. “The trade fair’s big.”

  “Do you have someone special back home?” She hoped she didn’t sound too nosey, but instinct told her that Serena’s safety depended on her not dating in Sydney. She had to trust her gut feeling. The murderer was not going to get this one. She was going to stop him.

  “I felt like a freak before with my drapes so long. I couldn’t even wear jeans. But I feel better about myself now. I’m keen to get out there and start dating more.”

  “Don’t do it in Sydney. Where are you staying here?”

  “At the Marian near the museum. Across from Hyde Park. I like it there. I’m right in the city and yet my room looks over trees. Why are you asking?” Serena seemed puzzled.

  Marina wasn’t going to mess around, so she got right to the point. “I don’t want to scare you but I’ve had two clients murdered recently. There’s a psychopath on the loose. Don’t open your hotel door to anyone you don’t know. Don’t date here.”

  “I read about that in the paper.” Serena nodded.

  “The police think the girls met him online dating, so I’m warning my clients to be careful. I think that’s the link. He meets them that way.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m not into online dating.” Serena closed her eyes looking as if she had not the slightest worry in the world.

  “Good,” said Marina, determined to drive her point home. “This man poses as someone normal but he isn’t. He’s insane.”

  “I hear what you’re saying,” said Serena calmly. “Don’t worry about me. The men I meet in Sydney are gay or computer geeks. I like a man to look tough and sexy. I get so bored with all the suits I work with. I’ve given up looking in Sydney.”

  Marina stared at her client holding her breath. Serena didn’t think anything would happen to her. None of them did. That was the problem. “Promise me you won’t date here.”

  Serena opened her eyes. “I promise. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Great.” She started to breathe again.

  There had to be some way to stop this psychopath killing her clients, invading her life and James’s. Her gut was tight with anxiety. To calm herself, she took a deep breath and let her mind wander, sent her thoughts out looking for the presence.

  She felt like a small octopus at the bottom of a dark ocean; its little legs touching, probing, searching for morsels. But there was nothing. No sense of evil. Just her and Serena. The voice was silent. Gone.

  She took another deep breath and straightened her shou
lders. There had to be a way to fight back. People called psychic abilities a gift. Although it didn’t feel like a gift to her, she was going to use everything she had to stop this man—even if that meant developing the gift that terrified her and finding the killer herself.

  Chapter 16

  “I need you to teach me some moves,” Marina said to James when he came home later that night from Tae Kwon Do training. She sat in the living room fingering the green silk Talisman that Lizzie had made her, the darkness surrounding her like a thunderstorm. Lizzie had said it would bring her protection. Marina was so freaked out by the murderer’s words when she’d waxed Selena Porter today, she’d opened the jar she kept it in and tied it around her neck.

  James flicked on the living room light. “Are you talking the Kama Sutra? I’m hoping that’s why you’re sitting here in the dark.” James grinned. “You gonna seduce me?”

  Marina laughed at his hopeful expression. She recognized the special smile that was reserved for her. He had perfectly straight white teeth and firm, sensual lips and he knew how to use them. “No such luck.”

  He strode over, bent and kissed her.

  When his lips touched hers, her anxiety lessened. His mouth was hot, his lips possessive. It brought back memories of their passion together. Sweaty, sexy memories. She wanted to slide into the kiss, forget everything else, but instead she pulled away. “I’m not talking sex.”

  “I am. I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was at the trade fair.” He sat next to her, his knee pressing against her leg.

  “I missed you too,” she said, savoring the heat of the close contact.

  “What’s that thing around your neck?” He reached out and picked up the Talisman. The back of his knuckles made contact with her throat. Her nipples contracted with the grazing motion of skin on skin.

  “It’s a Talisman.” Taking it from him, she fingered the green silk pouch feeling the rose quartz that Lizzie had put inside it to help her find love.

  “A what?”

  “A Talisman. Lizzie made it. It’s to help me find love and ward off evil.” It was too spiritual for James. He wouldn’t get it.

  “Right. You found me, though I doubt Lizzie made it for that purpose.” He grinned hopefully and put his hand on her knee.

  She frowned at him.

  The hopeful expression on his face became serious. “Has something happened?” He sat beside her and put his arms around her. “What’s the matter? Have the police called?”

  “No. Why? Did they call you?” Marina asked.

  “No, but I feel like they’re on my back just waiting for me to make some mistake. It’s really getting to me.”

  So James had bad feelings too. This was driving them all nuts. She gripped his hand. “He was back this morning. The murderer.” Her voice trembled. “I heard his voice in my head. He was saying terrible things about my client. He’s getting ready to strike again. I can feel it.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Sick bastard. I worried about leaving you and Lizzie unprotected.”

  James stood then pulled Marina to her feet. “You’re right. I do need to teach you how to protect yourself. At least something basic.”

  She looked at him expectantly.

  Taking a step back, he looked her up and down. “This guy gets up close in order to strangle his victim.”

  Marina shivered.

  James put his hands around her throat. He didn’t squeeze. Just stood there with a thoughtful look on his face. “This is the position you need to get out of.”

  “I could knee you.”

  Marina raised her knee in practice.

  “Sure you could, but that’s exactly what I’m expecting you to do. Because I’m expecting it, I can either throw you to the ground because you’re standing on one leg or simply move my leg and block your blow.” He moved his leg to protect himself so that Marina’s knee made contact with his thigh.

  Marina let out a sigh of exasperation. “I have to do something.”

  “Yep, you do. Lift your leg and strike at my knee with your heel. It doesn’t take much to disable a kneecap. It’s about twenty pounds of pressure. Your attacker won’t be expecting that. Then you can run and he’s stuck on one leg.”

  Placing her hand on his shoulder so she could balance, James lifted Marina’s foot and showed her where to strike. “Try this.”

  She directed her heel at his kneecap and was surprised to feel it move so easily under the pressure.

  “Good. You got it.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m going to teach you a few things that don’t require strength. Close contact stuff.” He kissed her full on the mouth.

  Just for a moment she sank into his kiss, allowing herself the pleasure. James knew how to kiss.

  This time, however, he broke the kiss. “That was for good luck,” he said. “Let’s start training.”

  An hour later Marina flopped on the lounge. “Enough for now,” she panted. She now knew several deadly tricks including how to poke out an eye; grab, twist and pull a man’s tackle if she were attacked from behind and where to punch a man in the diaphragm so that his breath fled from his lungs. It wasn’t much but she felt better.

  James laid down beside her and put his arms around her. “One more thing. If you can break glass, do it.”

  “How will that help?”

  “People ignore car sirens, burglar alarms, even screams but they always investigate the sound of breaking glass in case their property is being damaged.”

  She thought about it. James was right.

  He put his forefinger to his temple rubbing it with the knuckle. “How do you reckon the murderer knows what’s going on in the salon? I just don’t get it.”

  She nuzzled into his neck, his very warmth a comfort. James’s black hair was still damp at the temples from his rigorous training. He smelled of perspiration and his own male scent.

  “Can he see in the window or something?”

  “No, there’s a drape. Stop searching for a concrete explanation.” Her voice was full of frustration. “Does it make sense that I can hear his thoughts?”

  He shook his head. “Damn weird if you ask me. Did you have a premonition? You know, like the others.”

  “No. Not this time.”

  “Good.” James kissed the top of her head. It was a small gesture but it brought comfort so she snuggled in to him. “I don’t get it when it comes to psychic stuff. If I hadn’t seen you have that turn, I’d never believe in it.”

  Not believing hadn’t helped her in the past. She had to accept herself and follow her instinct. “I’ve been trying to learn how to use my power. Send my thoughts out to the universe but I don’t get anything back. It’s frustrating. The trouble is I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you reckon you’d know if the psycho committed another murder?”

  “I did the last time. It was like I was there. I’m certain nothing has happened yet. The trouble is the waiting is destroying me. I want to know how to stop him.” She pushed herself out of his arms and paced the living room. “I get shards of warnings. Like I know he’s looking to strike again. I need more than that to stop him.”

  James nodded and narrowed his eyes. “It sucks that he has the upper hand. If I find out who the son-of-a-bitch is, I’ll throttle him myself. Give him a taste of what he’s dishing out.”

  Marina bit down on her lower lip. The pain sharpened her mind, helped her think. “We have to be smarter than that.”

  “He deserves it.”

  Marina rolled her eyes. Trust a male to think a good thumping would do the trick. “Do you have any enemies?” she asked.

  “Fabio.”

  Not this again. She met his gaze. “I’m telling you, it’s not him! Look, I know I’ve only met Fabio twice.” Briefly. Not enough to get a real fix on him. “He dropped into the salon with a gift for Lizzie. When I took it from him because Lizzie was busy, I didn’t get bad feelings off him. Psychic feelings. His heart
is in the right place. I just don’t think he’s right for Lizzie and I know she told him I said that. She’s so down when she fights with him, but I have to stay out of her love life. He’s her choice.”

  “I still think it’s Fabio.” James’s mouth narrowed into a thin line. His mood darkened visibly. “You think the killer’s psyching up to his next murder? I think it’s him.”

  She noticed he ignored her psychic feelings. “James, you’re not listening to me.”

  He looked at his watch. “Where’s Lizzie now?”

  Marina gave a resigned sigh. “With Fabio. They’re having a drink at Planet Juice near the salon. Fabio’s not drinking on account of his training.”

  James strode over to the telephone table where he had dumped his keys and mobile phone. “I’m going to call her and go deal with Fabio.”

  “No.” Marina sprang up after him. “You can’t do that.”

  James turned on her, his face dark with anger. “For Christ’s sake, Lizzie’s with a creep, a potential murderer. You wouldn’t let me deal with him last time we talked about this.”

  “That’s a big assumption to make just because you don’t like Fabio. You don’t know he’s the murderer. You have no proof.”

  “Who else could it be? The guy hates me enough to set me up, plus he’s a sicko. He was at the pier the same night I was. He knew we were in having pizza when the second murder happened. Come on. You’re the psychic. Work it out.”

  Blood drained from her face. “You are being an ass,” she said through gritted teeth.

  James ignored her, turned, punched in Lizzie’s mobile phone number and waited for her to pick up. “It’s me. Where are you? Good. Tell Fabio to come up. I want to talk to him.” He rang off.

  “Damn you. You’re making a big mistake.”

  “I’m not. Have you seen how he’s treating her? He’s playing with her mind. Tormenting her. What else is he capable of?”

  She didn’t want to add fuel to James’s fire, but she had to admit to herself that she had wondered the same thing about Fabio.

  James opened the front door of the apartment. “Lizzie’s downstairs. The creep walked her home.”

  “You are going to destroy your relationship with your sister. You don’t have the right to tell her who she should date.”