Vampire Moon (42 page)

 
      
 
“You should thank me. I lessened your workload.”

 
      
 
“That was very reckless, Sam.”

 
      
 
“These are reckless times.”

 
      
 
He was silent some more. I suspected he was in his massive office, surrounded by piles of files.

 
      
 
“So what do we do, Sam?”

 
      
 
“About what?”

 
      
 
“About us.”

 
      
 
“I don’t know,” I said.

 
      
 
“I like you. A lot.”

 
      
 
“I’m a very likable person,” I said.

 
      
 
He chuckled. “Sometimes. But now you’re being distant and cold.”

 
      
 
“I feel distant and cold, so no surprise there.”

 
      
 
“It’s because of what I do,” he said.

 
      
 
“I hate what you do.”

 
      
 
“Sometimes I help people, Sam. Not everyone belongs in prison.”

 
      
 
“And not everyone should be freed on a technicality.”

 
      
 
“We can argue this forever,” he said.

 
      
 
“And forever is a very long time for...us.”

 
      
 
He chuckled lightly again. “Can I see you tomorrow night?”

 
      
 
“Tomorrow night I have plans.”

 
      
 
He made a noise on the phone. I know he wanted to ask who my plans were with but he held back. “I see. Perhaps next week?”

 
      
 
“Perhaps,” I said.

 
      
 
“I’ll call you later.”

 
      
 
I said okay and we hung up.

 
      
 
* * *

 
      
 
My cell rang again. I checked the number and ID on the faceplate. The number came up “Restricted”. It was either a creditor or one of my pals with law enforcement. My finances had gotten a little out of hand these past few months. My hotel room hadn’t been cheap and Danny wasn’t helping me. I took my chances and clicked on.

 
      
 
“I don’t have any money,” I said.

 
      
 
“Hello? Sam, it’s Mel.”

 
      
 
Oops. It was my DNA biologist friend from the FBI Crime Lab. Definitely not a creditor, although he did accept deposits in blood. My heart immediately slammed hard against the inside of my ribs. His call could only mean one thing.

 
      
 
“What’s shaking, Mel?”

 
      
 
“I have the results to your blood work up, Sam.”

 
      
 
I took a deep breath, held it, and then said, “Okay. Lay them on me.”

 
      
 
Chapter Fifty-six

 
      
 
Danny’s firm took up the entire second floor of the office building. The building itself wasn’t much to write home about.
Squarish
and ugly and immediately forgotten. A couple of years ago, I had jokingly referred to the building as “Ambulance Chaser Headquarters”, and Danny had refused to speak to me for two days.

 
      
 
The big baby.

 
      
 
With the sun still a few hours from setting and myself not at my strongest, I climbed the exterior stairs and pushed through the smoky glass doors. Four leather chairs sat empty to one side of the door. A thick, square mohair carpet spanned the length of the office. A bubbling fountain gurgled in the corner to my left, projecting an aura of
zen
-like calm in these troubled, accident-prone times. On the walls were the paintings I had picked out with Danny at a swap meet years ago. Big, fake, cheap stuff.

 
      
 
And directly in front of me, sitting behind a kidney-shaped desk, with her shiny, tan legs crossed and absently texting on her cell phone, was my ex-husband’s new secretary. The woman he had cheated on me with. The woman he was currently fucking. The woman he entertained at our house, in our bedroom, in our bed. The woman he had introduced to our children.

 
      
 
She had known that he was married. No doubt he had made me out to be a monster. No doubt he had painted a picture of an unfit mother. Unfit or not, she had chosen to cheat with a married man. My married man.

 
      
 
She set her phone aside, uncrossed her thin legs, and gave me a big smile. She was about to ask if she could help me, but then stopped short. Her mouth sort of hung open and her eyes narrowed. She was an ugly woman, I thought. I had no clue what Danny saw in her. Face too thin, skin too tan, boobs too fake. On second thought, I saw exactly what Danny saw in her. She was the opposite of me.

 
      
 
She jumped up and moved quickly around her desk, blocking my path. She crossed her arms under her fake breasts. Her nails were red and long. She looked like a whore.

 
      
 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she said.

 
      
 
I smiled and, without breaking stride, punched her straight in the face
.
She flew backward, bounced off the desk, spun around and landed on her face. On her nose, in fact. She moaned. I wasn’t at full strength and I certainly didn’t hit her as hard as I could, but she would remember me.

 
      
 
Danny appeared from his office door, open-mouthed. He looked at me and then at his secretary on the mohair rug. “Sam, what the fuck is going on?”

 
      
 
And as he stepped out of the office, I punched him hard in his stomach. He
oofed
nicely and doubled over. I grabbed him by the collar and threw him back into his office and shut the door behind me.

 
      
 
Chapter Fifty-seven

 
      
 
I pushed him down into one of his leather client chairs and sat on the edge of his executive desk, which was big enough to land an F-17 on.

 
      
 
Danny still hadn’t gotten his breath back entirely. His face was purplish and contorted, and he was staring at me with frightened, angry eyes.

 
      
 
I kicked my legs pleasantly and whistled absently, waiting for his lungs to kick start again. Finally his short rasping breaths turned into longer rasping breaths. And when they did, words vomited from his mouth. “What the fuck are...who the hell do you...you have royally fucked yourself...how dare you attack....”

 
      
 
“Are you quite done, asshole?”

 
      
 
He sat up straighter, took in a long, agonized breath. “I demand to know what’s going on.”

 
      
 
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

 
      
 
I grinned and continued swinging my legs. I shouldn’t have been enjoying this so much, but I was.

 
      
 
He looked at me with very confused, very dark eyes. Danny was not a big guy. Just a few inches shy of six foot, he was also too skinny for me, but I never told him that. I had always liked my men a little beefier, which is why Kingsley had been so damn intoxicating.

 
      
 
He said, “Do you have any idea the shit you just landed yourself in, Sam?”

 
      
 
“About as much shit as you landed in, dickhead.”

 
      
 
His eyes narrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

 
      
 
There was a low moan from outside the closed door, followed by some sobbing. His secretary lying there on the carpet, crying, probably wasn’t good for business.

 
      
 
“You’re the owner of The
Kittycat
,” I said. “Perhaps the world’s sleaziest strip club. In fact, you’re the sole owner of it.”

 
      
 
The color drained from his already pale face. He tried to sit up. I told him to stay where he was and he did so.

 
      
 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sam.”

 
      
 
“Of course you don’t. Deny everything, right? It’s the losers’ motto.”

 
      
 
“Sam, you’re talking nonsense.”

 
      
 
“Am I? All I have to do is make one call to any number of my friends in law enforcement, and they will come down hard on The
Kittycat
.”

 
      
 
“Just wait a second, Sam. Whether or not I own the business is beside the point. It’s hardly a crime to run a strip club.”