The visit to Vivian Sweet’s house weighed heavily on Angie’s mind as she parked illegally on the city street corner near a newsstand. She dug in her handbag and fished out her change purse, and locking her car, dashed to the newsstand. She counted out a handful of quarters and glanced up at the news guy, a black fellow who wore a red knit hat and a blue scarf wrapped three times around his neck.
“A paper to go with a diet soda,” she said.
“You’re usually my magazine junkie.” He grabbed a cold soda from a small refrigerator and a paper.
“What?”
“You show up the third week of every month and clean me out of magazines. You never buy a paper.”
He was yet another person who noticed her habits. “My paper never showed up this morning.”
“You are a news junky.” He pulled a paper, folded it, and handed it to her.
“Am I that obvious?” She never considered that he’d noticed her buying habits.
“I know most of my regulars’ habits.”
She wondered who else noticed her habits. Maybe the time had come to mix things up a bit. “How much do I owe you?”
“Five dollars.”
She dropped the money in his hand, replaced her change purse, and grabbed the soda and paper. “If I don’t get back to my car I’m going to get another ticket.”
“Get going then.”
She smiled, turned suddenly in a rush to get to her car, and smacked right into a man who felt more like a wall than flesh and bone. Her gaze darted up as she uttered an apology.
Her words halted before they were uttered. “I know you.”
“From group.” He wore a dark turtleneck, a blazer, and jeans. He’d chosen a relaxed style, and yet his aura possessed a formality better suited for a military uniform.
She’d never run into anyone from group before, and it unnerved her a little bit to have that world collide with this one. “Hey.”
“Angie, right?” He held out his hand, and she hesitated before taking it.
“Right.” Warm, strong fingers wrapped around her hand, igniting a jolt of energy. She pulled her hand free. “Good to see you.”
He nodded to the paper. “Hear about that woman they found?”
“It’s in the paper?”
“On the radio this morning. Weird, isn’t it? Another chick reduced to bones.”
Her senses tensed. “Why would you bring that up?”
He shrugged. “Just making conversation. News reports say you were her attorney.”
She shoved out a breath. “I’ve got to go.”
He followed. “Do you work in this area?”
She stopped and stared at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m Robert. From group.”
Angie shook her head, studying his face. “What do you really want?”
“How about that cup of coffee?”
“Sorry, no time.”
The last thing she wanted was to spend more time with him. She just wanted to keep moving. No reason not to like this guy, but she didn’t.
“Maybe I’ll see you around. Seeing as we work in the same area.”
“Yeah. Sure.” She glanced past him to her car. A police car was making its way down the block. “I’ve got to go.”
He looked frustrated. “Yeah, sure.”
Angie didn’t look back as she ran to her car, but she sensed that he stared at her.
Dr. Dixon had to work quickly. After the visit from his partner he needed to act soon if he was going to save Angie. He slumped low in a parked car in the darkened parking garage, sipping coffee, watching her empty parking space. He’d been following Angie for months, standing in the shadows learning all her habits.
One thing he had learned was that her boss, Charlotte Wellington, had a thing for security, so getting a hold of Angie in her offices would be hard. Not impossible, but hard.
Her black BMW pulled into her spot, and she burst from her car, briefcase in hand. Long legs carried her across the deck to the elevator. Quickly, she punched the button.
He rubbed his hands on the steering wheel, anticipating what it would feel like to touch her bare flesh. He couldn’t wait for the day.
Dixon would have to work quickly. His partner would not appreciate him changing their arrangement. But as soon as Dixon had Angie, he’d have her out of the country in less than an hour, and then they’d have a lifetime together.
The elevator doors opened, and she vanished into the car.
His body hardened at the prospect of having her. A restless energy stirred. The raw sexual energy inside him was so powerful it made his skin crawl. He had to exorcise the demons clawing at his insides.
He shouldn’t be out in public now trolling the streets for a whore, but he needed the release or he’d never be able to concentrate on taking Angie.
“I found whores before him and didn’t get caught. I’ll do fine without him.” He’d learned his lesson when Garrison had arrested him. Have your fun, pay your money, but just don’t get too rough.
Holding back would be hard—he so enjoyed a woman when she cried and begged him to stop—but he would find a way not to be too rough. A little pain would have to suffice.
He put his car in drive and headed toward his favorite street corner.
Chapter 23
Tuesday, October 11, 5 P.M.
Malcolm strode into ZZ’s and spotted Margo standing behind the bar. She wore a sleeveless shirt that accentuated toned arms covered with tattoos. She glanced up at him. His scowl deepened.
He showed her his badge. “Margo.”
“Cop.”
“Got a few questions.”
She set the glass down and leaned into the bar. “You were here the other night.”
“That’s right.”
“That chick with Eva was a cop.”
“Nope. Attorney.”
She shrugged. “Just as bad. What do you want? I told all the cops that I haven’t seen Lulu.”
“Lulu Sweet is dead.”
For a moment, granite features softened. “Sorry to hear that.”
“I’ve got a few questions.”
“I don’t have many answers.”
Malcolm leaned into the bar. “I got friends in Vice that would like nothing better than to camp their asses on your barstools and chat with your customers.”
“I ain’t got nothing to hide.”
“Then don’t worry.” He pushed away. “When you are ready to scramble for answers could you let me know? I’ll call the bloodhounds off then.”
Margo cursed under her breath. “Ass.”
“That a yes?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anybody seen Tony?”
“Nope. He split right after Lulu vanished.”
“Anybody hanging around Lulu or talking to or hassling her?”
“Not more than usual. She was cute and bubbly, and the dudes liked that.”
“What about her purse?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Really? I smell bloodhounds.”
“Shit. Behind the bar.”
He didn’t mention that she’d told the other cops the purse had been nowhere to be found. “Thanks.”
It was a satchel fashioned out of blue-jean material with brightly colored patches on the side. He fished through it. Comb, wallet with no cash in it, gum, crackers, and in the very bottom a wad of paper. He set the purse on the bar and unfurled the paper. It was a handwritten note.
Love watching you. You are the best.
“Any idea who might have given this to her?”
She read the note. “No, I really don’t. If anybody was bugging her, she never said.”
He handed her one of his business cards. “If you think of anything or see Tony, call me.”
“Got you on speed dial, sport.”
Malcolm’s head pounded as he pushed through the front door of King’s. He saw Angie sitting at the bar. She was talking to Eva and doing somet
hing he didn’t see often. She was smiling.
Whatever was coiled inside of him eased, and tension melted from his shoulders. She’d been in his thoughts the better part of the day. Seeing her standing over the baby not knowing how to change a diaper. The way she’d watched him with that kid, her eyes sad and reflective. It must sting like hell to hold a kid and know you’d never have one of your own.
As he moved toward the bar, Eva looked up and spotted him. She nodded and mentioned to Angie that he’d arrived. She turned. The smile faded from her face. In an instant, the light vanished. The serious Angie had returned, and he was sorry for it.
He sat beside her and grabbed a handful of nuts from the bowl on the bar. “Eva, I could use a beer, but give me a soda.”
“Sure.”
She poured a tall soda and set it in front of him. “You want what you ordered the other night?”
“I don’t remember what I had.”
“Chili, crackers, extra hot sauce.”