Even as the tray was set before them, Lilith squealed loud enough to embarrass Paul and plucked a smoked salmon finger sandwich from the tray and stuffed it in her mouth. She smiled at him as she chewed. She was sitting with her legs crossed, her dress up to her hips, exposing her thighs. Paul couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t keep himself from wondering what those thighs would feel like wrapped around his waist.
But she was getting attention from others in the room.
Other men.
He didn’t like getting attention.
Heat rose along his neck, and imagining what those men would like to do to her, he had to spread his legs to relieve his incredible hard-on. “I told you to wear something conservative.”
“Don’t you think I look good in red, Paulie?”
“You’d look better in blue or pink. A pastel is more ladylike.”
She had the nerve to roll her eyes at him. “You want that?” She pointed to his scone.
He glanced around. People were staring. His appetite was gone. She grabbed the scone and slathered strawberry jam and cream on half.
“So, Paulie, what do you do? For a living.”
“Paul. Call me Paul. I work in a family business.”
She took a big bite, left a smear of cream along her upper lip. “What kind of business?”
“A funeral parlor.”
She nearly choked on the mouthful before she managed to swallow it. “You work with dead bodies?”
He could tell she was revolted. She wiped her mouth with a linen napkin and pulled back. Good to see he had some effect on her. Maybe that would straighten her out and get her to act like the lady he knew she could be.
“About Saturday,” he said. “I have dinner with my grandmother before taking her to evening service. Nana lives with me. I’ve told her all about you, how special you are. She wants you to visit with her.”
“Why wait until Saturday. I can come over tomorrow.”
Paul stared at her. “I said Saturday.” He didn’t like it when women tried to control him. Good thing she didn’t argue about it. “If things go well, that’s just a start. I want to do things for you, show you another kind of lifestyle.”
He wanted to do things to her that no other man had ever done. He wanted her pliant and grateful and panting for more.
Lilith gave him a haughty look. “You’re not responsible for the way I live.”
Why was she being so contrary? Couldn’t she give up the act, show him her real self like he would do when he got her alone?
“The club isn’t you, Lilith. You’ve got class. You just need a chance to show it. I’ve been waiting for someone exactly like you for a long time.”
Quiet for a few seconds, she finally said, “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Only the really good ones.”
SO SHE HADN’T gotten anything telling out of Paul, Lilith thought, other than that invitation to meet his grandmother on Saturday. If Hannah wasn’t found by then, as much as she dreaded it, Lilith would keep the date. Hopefully Hannah would be rescued before that…or at least alive, if still captive. If the police had any leads, she hadn’t heard about it. Not from Gabe. Not from Pucinski.
The reason she found herself heading straight for the Area Office once she got rid of the little creep.
A half hour later, she was pacing in front of Detective Pucinski’s desk, frustrated at the lack of progress in the case. “I thought you were bringing in the Feds.”
“They gave me a profile — the type of guy to look for — and a Special Agent is a member of the Task Force. So far, all I got are leads on a couple of the regulars from the club.” He indicated several files in front of him.
“I’d like to see exactly what it is you have.”
She reached for the folders, but Pucinski placed both hands on top of them to stop her. “Look, Miss Mitchell, I’ll keep you informed if I have anything substantial to share, if you promise to do the same. Actually, let me know about anything you learn, no matter how inconsequential it seems. You never know what’s significant. One small observation can turn the case on a dime.” He handed her his card. “In case you lost it, my cell number. You find out anything — and I mean any little thing — contact me directly.”
“How is it you think I can get information on my sister’s disappearance when you can’t.”
Pucinski snorted. “I know what you’ve been up to, Miss Mitchell. Working at that club.”
So Gabe had told him. She sighed. “Have you checked out the club employees?” she asked. “The killer might not be a customer.”
“You have someone in mind?”
“His name is Rudy Barnes. I heard he was all over Hannah.”
“Was he all over you?”
“He tried. The question is, was he all over the first two victims?”
“Something I’ll have to find out. In the meantime, Lilith, you should understand you’re taking a big chance on blowing it all. If you don’t get yourself killed, you’re gonna screw up my case.”
Lilith glared at him. He held her gaze. When she couldn’t make him back down, she spun on her heel and stalked out of his office, jostling Gabe O’Malley’s shoulder before heading for the exit.
She glanced back once to see the undercover detective staring after her, his expression speculative.
Chapter 13
LILITH RAN A FEW ERRANDS and still got to the club before her shift started and so went straight to the bar to look for Michael. Spotting Gabe instead, she joined him.
“Pucinski wouldn’t tell me anything about Hannah’s case,” she said. “What about you? Will you talk?”
“Sit.” He offered her his stool and spoke softly against the harsh hip-hop music one of the younger dancers preferred. “How about you?” he asked, turning the tables on her. “Learn anything you should share with me?”
“Nothing definitive. I even went to high tea with Paul Ensdorf. I seem to be the little creep’s type.”
“You’d be any man’s type.” His expression was as appreciative as he sounded.
“Yeah, well that doesn’t help me find someone who has a hard-on for women who look like my sister. Surely you know something.”
To Lilith’s frustration, Gabe said, “You sound frazzled. Let me buy you a drink. A real one.” He waved over the bartender.
“What can I get you?” Joe asked.
“Gin and tonic with lime.” One drink wouldn’t hurt. Hopefully, it would ease her nerves so she could do what she’d planned.
Joe set off to make her drink. She looked toward the back of the club again for Michael. Disappointed when she didn’t see him, she returned her attention to Gabe and caught him in an unguarded moment before he covered with a forced smile.
“Who died on you?” she asked.
“They don’t have to die. Sometimes they just leave you. My ex hated being married to a cop, at least one in the Violent Crimes Unit. The kids don’t have any say-so. Just another in a long list of disagreements.”
He reached into his pocket and found his wallet. He pulled out a picture: three kids and a woman whose long, dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, which accentuated her classic beauty.
“Great looking kids,” she said.
“You ever been married?” he asked.
“I’ve never even been in love.”
Even as she said it, Lilith thought about Michael. But of course she didn’t love him. There was a definite attraction. Maybe she was a little in lust with him. She kept thinking about that almost kiss.
Shaking away the thought, she said, “So you’re not going to tell me anything about the investigation?”
“Nothing to tell. Yet. Be careful, Lilith. This guy’s dangerous. Don’t provoke him.”