The Killer's New Obsession

“All right,” she said and bit her lip. “Yeah, we can do that. Who is she?”

“Just some girl that gives the family information when we need it,” I said.

“You mean she’s an informant,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“Something like that.” I grinned at her and spread my hands out. “We’re not the police. She’s more like a spy.”

“Look at you,” she said and laughed. “I didn’t realize finding you again would be so exciting.”

“You haven’t seen the half of it yet.” I held out my hand, but she ignored it and walked past me into the hall.

The meeting spot was an outdoor beer garden on South Street. It was firmly in Valentino turf though the place itself was unaffiliated. I parked and led the way through the front doors and out into a gravel-lined courtyard with lots of long picnic benches lined up in the middle and two big bars on either side. Young guys in flannels and their girlfriends in brightly colored sundresses sat close to each other holding steins of beer and talking loudly, despite it being barely after eleven in the morning on a Tuesday.

“Cool place,” Irene breathed next to me, grinning.

I shrugged until I spotted the girl. She went by Kira, although I didn’t know if that was her real name or not. She sat alone at the end of one table toward the corner reading a yellow mass market paperback with a shirtless hunk on the cover. I walked over and waited for her to look up before sitting down.

Irene joined me and her thigh brushed against mine as she took a seat. I felt a jolt at the touch and thought of her lips, her tongue, all the long, lean inches of that, all the smooth skin I wanted to kiss, lick, touch.

Fuck, had to keep my head in the game.

“Cam,” Kira said, smiling. She had big blue eyes and thin black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Her cheekbones were high and pronounced, and her chin was almost pointed. She had tiny features, but stark and intense, and her arms were all bones and veins and pale skin.

“Kira, this is Irene,” I said, gesturing toward her. “She’s a good friend.”

Kira pursed her lips and nodded. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone.”

“I’m sorry,” Irene said. “I didn’t mean to ambush you. It’s just that we might know some of the same people.”

Kira snorted. “You used to fuck for the Healy family too?” she asked.

Irene’s cheeks reddened. “I stole for them,” she said. “Never fucked for them.”

“You missed out then.” Kira tapped on her paperback. “The Healy family paid well. Hours were flexible.”

Irene’s jaw worked like she wasn’t sure what to make of that and I leaned forward.

“Be nice,” I said to Kira. “She doesn’t know you’re joking.”

Kira’s severe face broke into a strange smile that did very little to soften her appearance. “Mostly joking,” she said.

“Right,” Irene said, and she shifted closer to me, our legs pressed together.

“So why did you want to meet with me, Cam?” Kira asked, head tilted like a bird. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks. I thought you forgot about me.”

“Haven’t forgotten,” I said. “Only haven’t needed you, and I figured that the more we met, the more danger you’d be in.”

“Of course, thinking of my safety.” Kira studied her nails. “Is he always so chivalrous with you, Irene?”

“No,” Irene said. “He’s definitely not.”

“I’m not a fan of where this is going,” I said, waving my hands in the air. “We need to talk about some of the girls you worked with, Kira.”

She made a vague gesture in the air. “I worked with a lot,” she said.

“When did you start with the family?” I asked.

She hesitated, her frown deepening. She chewed on her pinky nail, and I noticed that they were bitten down to the cuticle. Finally, she said, “Years ago. I came over from Ukraine thinking America would be a better start. Thinking I’d be a model.” She made a disgusted face. “I think I was a model, of sorts.”

“Were there a lot of other girls like you?” I asked.

“Not then,” Kira said. “I was one of the first. Why do you care about this? It’s all history now.”

“Work with me for a second,” I said and leaned toward her. “How many girls came over with you? Do you remember their names?”

“Some,” she said. “Some are dead, some are gone. Some are like me, walked away from the family and started over. I still keep in touch with the ones on the inside though.”

Irene cut in. “Do you ever try to convince them to leave?” she asked.

Kira laughed. “Of course I do,” she said. “It’s all I ever do. But you try to tell a peasant girl that she can make a better life for herself. All those girls know is misery and work, and fucking isn’t such bad work if you get used to it. The Healy family makes sure they’re strung out all the time, which doesn’t help.”