Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [classic children's novels txt] 📗

good time. I’m happy for it to stay that way. But I need you to do me this favor. Do it, and you walk out of here with four hundred bucks, and maybe you help put a son of a bitch away who preys on ladies like yourselves.”

They looked like I might have got through to them. I showed them the picture of Pete. “This your man?” They nodded. “What’s his taste? What does he like?”

They looked at each other and giggled. Zeta said, “I put a collar ’round his neck and lead him around the room on all fours, while Cherry smacks his ass with a ping-pong bat.”

I frowned. “That’s it?”

Cherry shrugged. “A few variations sometimes, but that’s basically it. Sometimes I ride his ass!”

They screamed with laughter.

“And that takes two hours?”

They both sighed. “You’d be amazed.”

“Does he ever try to hurt you?”

“You kidding?” It was Cherry again. “I’d taser the motherfocker and stamp on his balls! No, he likes to be dominated. That’s it. It don’t go beyond that. And when we’s finished, every time we have to listen to the fockin’ little lecture about how we could be doing something so much better with our lives. One of these days, I swear! I am going to say to him, ‘Yo! Motherfocker! How much money you make in the last hour? Coz I made two hundred bucks leading a stupid asshole around the floor on his hands and knees while he got his sorry ass whipped!’”

I drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair for a while. Finally, I said, “The money is all yours, ladies. You have a profitable evening.” Cherry smiled as she picked up the cash.

“You sure you don’t want something, sugar? You’re all paid up.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Be safe.”

I let them out and watched them scuttle away into the shiny, wet darkness. I stood staring at my car. The windows looked real black. I thought of the unknown girl, the skull and the arms. I thought of her parents again. For them, until they were tracked down and informed of her death, she would be both dead and alive. Why did that thought keep haunting me? The thought that somehow it wasn’t real until you knew.

And suddenly I thought I knew.

Twenty-Three

It was still dark. The only sound was the wet, desultory tap of raindrops on the windowsill and on the leaves of the trees outside. I turned my head and looked at the clock. The luminous green numbers seemed to be carved out of the blackness.

5:45.

The door bell made me jump physically. It jarred my senses, stopped, and then jangled them again. I slipped out of bed, grabbed my piece, and ran silently down the stairs. I could see a silhouette through the frosted glass panel, backlit by the amber streetlight.

I moved to the side of the door, reached over, turned the handle, and yanked it open. Then thrust my automatic through the gap.

Into Dehan’s face.

She grinned.

“Morning, Stone.”

“What the hell… do you know what time it is? Why are you not…?”

She stepped in, closed the door, kissed me on the cheek, and said, “Thank you.” She moved toward the kitchen talking over her shoulder. “I slept like a babe. I woke up at half four and started getting flashes. I remember bits and pieces. I thought you’d want to know.”

“At five forty-five in the morning?”

She was opening the coffee pot and glanced at the clock on the fridge. “It’s five to six. Man up, Detective. Have a shower, you’ll feel better.”

I showered and dressed and came down to the now familiar bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee. I sat.

“You know, normally, I have a piece of toast and a cup of coffee.”

“My grandmother would not approve.” She put the plate in front of me. “One of my uncles said to her one day, ‘Mammy, I’m gonna die!’ She said, ‘You’ll die, but foist you’ll eat!’”

I laughed. “Your paternal grandmother, I assume.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So—” I stuffed bacon in my mouth and spoke around it. “—tell me whachou wemembah.”

She looked disapproving and raised an eyebrow at me. “I got a call while I was in the observation room.”

“Can you remember who from?”

“It was a woman.”

I froze. Then smiled.

She went on. “She said she had vital information regarding the case of the two arms. She said she was right outside. She didn’t want to come in because her life would be in danger if anybody saw her. She wanted me to go down to the deli on the corner.

“I got about halfway there. You know there’s an exit from the parking lot on the left. A van came out and pulled up. It was dark. The driver beckoned me. Next thing I felt a brick wall hit my head, and that’s all I remember.”

“Do you remember waking up at any point?”

She nodded. “Twice. The first time I was on a mattress in the back of a van. I was cuffed to a rail. There was a night-light burning, and there was a camera mounted on a bracket near the ceiling, watching me. About five minutes after that, the light went out. I heard the side door open, felt a sharp jab, and I went out.

“The second time I woke up and I was bound hand and foot. I couldn’t see anything, and I was lying on a concrete floor. I knew that couldn’t be good. Shortly after that, I heard the hiss of gas, started to feel ill, and passed out.”

I had finished mopping up the egg with the toast and was sitting back, sipping coffee, watching her in the dim light of the dawn.

I told her about Zak and about David, and about finding her pendant at Peter’s place, and his