Into a Dangerous Mind (32 page)

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Authors: Tina Gerow

BOOK: Into a Dangerous Mind
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“You want me to go with you?
 
Surveillance is pretty boring by yourself and Cassidy’s getting strong enough to protect herself for a few hours while we’re gone.
 
Besides, it will keep Cassidy and I from killing each other.”
Dix didn’t bother to hide a snort of amusement and Zach shot him a scathing glare.
“Don’t worry about it.
 
You stay here and work with Cassidy.
 
I’ll be back in the morning and we can decide where to go from there with the case.”
 
Dix slapped Zach on the shoulder.
 
“Besides, this way I get the car radio all to myself.”
“I don’t mind some country now and then, Dix, but there’s a place in life for some good classic rock, too, you know.”
Dix grinned.
 
“I’m with you, but tonight is a country night.”
 
He waggled his eyebrows at Zach and dramatically clutched both his hands over his heart.
 
“Kathy said she’d go out with me on an actual date when this is all over.”
“You mean the mutual orgasms on the sofa don’t count?”
“Smart ass!”
 
Dix scowled.
 
“Hell no, they don’t count.”
 
He poked Zach hard in the chest with his finger.
 
“It will only count when we make each other come…as in Kathy and me.
 
Not
because you two are leaking psychic sex vibes all over the house.”
“Fair enough.”
 
Zach laughed as he held up his hands in surrender.
“By the way, how are you and Cassidy doing?
 
I know the quiet streak has stretched us all to our breaking point.
 
You two seem to do nothing but bicker lately.”
A crease formed between Zach’s eyebrows and a worried look marred his face.
 
“We’re doing as well as can be expected.
 
I think we’ll both be glad when this is over and we can explore a relationship without the drama and murders and death.
 
It’s definitely caused some friction.”
Dix nodded and hid his smile.
 
He knew Zach and Cassidy were perfect together, but since both were such strong, stubborn personalities, there would never be a dull moment—even without the heightened emotions of the last few weeks.
 
It would definitely keep their lives interesting.
 
“Well, don’t forget, we still need to find the Reaper before we can put this thing to bed.
 
Maybe we can try again tomorrow.
 
See you in the morning.”
Zach nodded.
 
“Okay, but you’re missing out.
 
Kathy said she’s making manicotti for dinner tonight.”
Dix groaned.
 
“Now you’re just being damned mean.”
 
Zach knew manicotti was one of Dix’s favorite things in the world.
 
“Maybe I can talk her into saving me some.”

 

*****

 

“What’s up, Dix?” came Zach’s voice over the line.
“Interesting stuff, Hatcher.
 
Ms. Peters is dressed in painted on red leather and looks like she charges by the hour.
 
She just went into a topless bar called The Doll House, and I’m going in.”
Dix heard Cassidy laugh in the background.
 
“Tell Dix not to work too hard,” came Cassidy’s muffled voice.
“Yeah, yeah, I heard her.
 
Just mark me.
 
I’ll check in, in twenty.”
“Mark,” Zach replied and Dix knew he was noting the time.
The inside of the bar smelled like sweat and stale sex laced with warm beer and urine.
 
Dix moved to a small table in the corner where he could put his back to the wall and still have a good view of the entire floor.
The color scheme screamed cotton-candy pink and the theme tried and failed to be an innocent reminder of a child’s doll house.
 
A worn raised stage took up the entire front wall graced with a single golden pole.
Chairs outlined the stage where desperate bored-looking men gave their money up-close-and-personal to one of the dancers.
 
The current dancer was topless, but dressed in pigtails and a school girl skirt with spike heels.
 
Pretty in a girl-next-door way, she wasn’t very blessed in the curves department.
Dix shook his head.
 
“There really ought to be rules about working in a titty bar—like you need to have titties,” he said under his breath.
He looked up as Holly—he couldn’t think of her as Ms. Peters in the flame red street-walker getup—came out of the bathroom and sat in one of the seats against the stage.
 
Immediately, a muscle-bound bald man wearing a T-Shirt that said “Doll Keeper” sat next to her.
Must be one of the bouncers
.
 
Dix ordered a beer from the waitress and watched as Holly nonchalantly slipped the Doll Keeper a wad of cash and then leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.
 
The Doll Keeper laughed and then stood and motioned for her to follow.
 
Dix watched as they headed to the back, probably to a private party room.
Dix turned his cell phone to silent and motioned for the waitress.
 
When she leaned over, giving him a view of her ample store-bought cleavage, he held up a fifty dollar bill.
 
“I’ve got a proposition for you.”
She gave him a bored look.
 
“Yeah, yeah, where have I heard that one before?
 
I’m a waitress, I don’t do table dances.”
She turned to walk away and Dix grabbed her arm.
“I don’t mean that kind of proposition.
 
I just want to go back to the private rooms…alone.”
She looked surprised, but offered no comment.
 
Probably she got stranger requests on a nightly basis.
 
“The private room is in use right now, but I can let you know when it’s available.”
She reached for the fifty and Dix pulled it back just out of her reach.
 
“I’ll make it one hundred if you take me back there now.”
 
Dix pulled out another fifty and leaned closer to her and said, “I like to listen.”
 
He winked.
She shrugged, then nodded.
 
“No problem, honey.
 
Watch me and I’ll motion for you when it’s okay to come on back.
 
Chey won’t like it,” she said, motioning to the burly Doll Keeper who stood back behind the bar.
 
“But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt either of us.”
 
She pulled the two fifties out of Dix’s grasp and secreted it into her cleavage.
Chey?
 
The Doll Keeper built like a linebacker was named Chey?
 
Dix bet no one ever teased the guy about it and lived.
Two minutes later, Dix stood just inside the private room.
 
It was actually an alcove of darkened booths in the back.
 
He assumed this was where dancers gave their ultra-private dances—the kind that weren’t exactly legal.
He heard faint male grunting noises and the sound of skin slapping against skin.
 
The smell of stale sex was stronger here, confirming his suspicions.
 
The sound came from the booth against the far back wall, he inched forward feeling like a peeping Tom.
Thankfully, the only illumination came from the light streaming through the partially open door, which led to the back of the stage.
 
It wouldn’t be good for his health if Chey the Doll Keeper or Holly and her companion caught him snooping.
 
He continued to move forward while the male grunting became more urgent.
 
The slapping sound came faster and faster until the man cried out in release.
What is it with all the minute-men in the world?
 
No wonder women have a bad perception of the male species.
The smell of death and blood suddenly hit him hard.
 
He peered around the side of the darkened booth and his eyes widened in horror.
His gun was in his hand before the thought reached his brain.
 
“Hold it right there.”
 
His gun pointed straight between the eyes of the Reaper.
His hand remained steady while his brain busily noted details as the world dropped into slow-motion.
Holly Peters lay dead and naked on the floor, her legs still spread, a smear of semen visible on her thigh.
 
A large, bloody gash ran along her scalp and a steady stream of blood flowed down between her lifeless staring eyes.
 
There were several stab wounds in each breast, leaving them a bloody mass—her nipples looking like cherries sitting on top a ruined cake.
 
A knife covered in blood lay a few feet away from her.
The knowledge the Reaper had fucked her
after
he killed her would sicken Dix later, but right now he let his training take over.
The Reaper sat back on his feet with his arms raised, palms out toward Dix.
 
Blood smeared down the side of his face and torso where he’d leaned against her wounds while he was inside her.
He wore nothing but a smug grin.
Dix checked the urge to erase the grin from The Reaper’s face—permanently.
All the details took Dix only seconds to process.
 
But immediately, he knew something didn’t feel quite right.
 
The hairs on the back of his neck began to ruffle and he decided to shoot first and ask questions later.
As his finger tightened against the trigger, a searing white-hot pain ripped into his skull.
 
He swayed against a wave of dizziness, and saw his shot go wide, missing the Reaper by a breath.
Dix was driven to his knees, but fought to keep his gun in his hand.
 
Panic rose like bile in the back of his throat.
“Father, how nice of you to choose someone with psychic sensitivity to inhabit,” the Reaper said as he stood over Dix.
 
“I do usually prefer the females.
 
But killing you twice will be worth it.”

Dix!
” he heard Zach’s voice inside his head.
“Zach?” he said, his words slurring against the pain.
 
He fought to bring up the gun or to move away from the Reaper’s onslaught, but couldn’t find the strength.
The Reaper circled Dix like a predator toying with his prey.
 
“Come now, father, you can do better than this.
 
I
was always the one who was too weak for you to be proud of, remember?”

Dix, open your mind to me
!”
 
Dix heard Zach’s voice and willingly welcomed a wave of strength, which cut through the pain.

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