Intimate Relations, Rebecca Forster [best ereader for manga .txt] 📗

herself, so you'll be telling me now what I want to know. No fits, Beverly. No hysterics."

"I don't have to —"

"You do because I am a cop, and I will take you to jail," Finn said.  "Now what was going on in there?"

"It was an Asylum party." Bev rolled her eyes when the look on Finn's face said that explanation wasn't enough. "Asylum is a club for adventurous adults. It's very exclusive. The men pay more than you make a year just to join."

"And the women?"

"Women have to apply to be part of the scene, but we don't pay. Asylum looks for beautiful women. Intelligent women. And they chose me, Finn. I'm not twenty-five, and they still chose me."

"I can see how much they value your intelligence," Finn said, and Bev had the decency to be embarrassed. "Go on."

"The rules are the same for each party, but the venue changes," Bev said. "You never know where or when one will be until the last minute. If you miss two parties, you're out. That's only for the women. Because the men pay for a membership they can't get kicked out unless they mur—." Bev stopped talking. Finn cocked his head and raised a brow. Her pique returned. "You know what I mean. Believe me, none of those guys in there killed anyone."

Both of them knew that little slip of hers would stay in Finn's head until he was satisfied that was all it had been.

"So what are these rules?"

"Men have to wear tuxedos. Everyone has to wear a mask. The women can come as they please, but they have to look sexy. That's what Asylum is all about. Sexual fantasies, power fantasies."

"Sure, it sounds like a whorehouse," Finn said.

"It isn't. There is no touching or sex without consent. The men may have the money, but the women are in control. One word from any of us, and even the gold members can be disciplined for harassment." Bev's lips tipped. "It's nice to be in control for once."

"And the doll that man ripped to shreds? That was fantasy? A real woman dead upstairs was someone's fantasy?"

"I didn't know anything about that doll thing," Bev said. "We've never had a party here before.  I've never been to one this exclusive. Usually there are fifty people in some house in Hollywood or Beverly Hills. All I know is that the man who owns the place —the guy who went bonkers — he makes companions."

"Sex dolls?" Finn said.

"Yes, if you want to be crude," she said. "But that's no different than any other sex toy."

"They look like women. They feel like women. You don't find that odd, Beverly?"

"That guy is an incredible artist. I've never seen anything like it. He's a master." Her defense was so genuine it almost amused Finn. But it wasn't a destroyed doll or Beverly's opinion of it that he cared about.

"He might have killed a young woman," Finn said.

"Oh listen to you, Mr. Rule of Law," Bev drawled. "You always told me not to trust the first information.  What happened to innocent 'till proven guilty? Well, nobody in this place is innocent, but that doesn't mean anyone is guilty of murder. That includes the guy who makes the companions, and I don't even know him."

She paused. For an instant Finn thought he saw the woman he married. Then he realized he was seeing the woman she had become in their marriage, one who felt sad and trapped by circumstance. It would seem the big world had not made her less so. But the expression was gone as fast as it crossed her face. Beverly was a proud woman, and would never admit she made a mistake even if she had.

"Did you keep track of everyone through the night?" Finn asked.

"No," she said. "Look, I just want to go home, so here's what I know. This party was a special invitation thing. I mean it was still fantasy night, but we were waiting for something."

Finn pushed himself off the ground. The cracked asphalt was none too comfortable. He put his hands together to wipe away the small rocks embedded in his finger tips.

"What was it you were waiting for?" he asked.

"Nobody knew. The men who were invited are very important, and I heard one of them say tonight would change the world. That's what he said. Change the world."

"And the dead woman? Who was she?"

"She was a bitch," Bev said.

"I'll be needing something more specific, like her name."

"Cami."

Finn raised a brow; Bev raised her bare shoulders.

"That's all I know. We use aliases at Asylum parties. I don't know anyone's real name. No matter what you threaten me with, I can't tell you anymore than that."

"And why were you so angry with this woman if you don't know her?"

"I told you, she was a bitch." Bev's arms crossed again.

"Last I heard that's no reason to kill someone."

"Oh, please, Finn."

Bev leaned forward. She put her elbows on her knees and cradled her chin in her upturned hands as she collected her thoughts. When she looked at him again she seemed exhausted. This came as no surprise to Finn. She had been up all night, and even fantasies show their wear with the passage of time.

"You think I could kill that little horror, leave, come back, and pretend I didn't? Sorry, I'm not that cool."

 "I'm not thinking you killed her. There would be blood on you, and I can see that's not the case. I'm still wanting to know why the fury? There was no mistaking that."

Bev sat back, feigning boredom when in fact the truth was she didn't want to look into her ex's eye when she answered.

"She was going to out one of the Asylum men. It's someone I care about, and he couldn't afford for people to know about his involvement in this club."

"His name?" Finn asked.

"I just told you—"

"Aliases. So you said," Finn answered.  "What's his then?"

Bev opened her mouth. The man's name hovered on her lips, and