Page 21 of Tell Me Your Desires
“Meow.”
Anya rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know Maisie wasn’t a sex worker! But given where she was found, the police probably think she was. The only reason thatdetectivewas so aggressive was becauseIam a sex worker. Of course I must be guilty.”
“Mew. meow.” Derek jumped on the table and walked across the laptop’s keyboard. In an instant, the article was gone.
“Excuse me, I was reading that.”
“Meow.”
Derek sat his happy ass down right in front of Anya’s face. She had been at this futile research for a good two hours. That’s two hours she hadn’t given Derek the attention he required. So she scratched him under his chin.
“I know I should be using this time off to do something more productive, but what am I supposed to do? I feel so helpless, Derek. And selfish. How could I not know more about Maisie? Am I that self-absorbed?”
“Purr.”
“Right. I have no social life, and my best friend is a cat. Of course I’m self-absorbed.” Anya sat back in her chair and sighed. She had ways to find out information, but she was reluctant to visit her past. And she certainly didn’t want another interrogation from Detective Baros by going to her for information. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Scooch, please.”
She shooed an annoyed Derek off the keyboard and typed “Detective Baros Reno” into the search bar.
“This is such a stupid idea,” Anya muttered to herself. Even so, she scrolled through, trying to find any articles dedicated to the beautiful detective.Stop calling her beautiful!There was one article with a photo of… Detective Jaime Baros.Jaime. “Detective Jaime Baros wins the Lifesaving award.” Anya looked at Derek. “I guess she’s not always vigorously accusing innocent people of murder.”
“Meow.” Derek jumped off the table and onto the counter. A series of ‘hunger meows’ followed as he paced the length of the counter.
Anya looked at her watch, surprised to see it was past seven o’clock. “Oops.” She took one last look at the detective in her uniform.Nice. With that thought, she slammed the laptop shutand pushed it away. “I swear if I have dreams about this woman again….”
“Meooooowwww!”
“Don’t yell at me!” Anya puffed out a breath and pushed the feed button on Derek’s bowl. “There. So demanding. You know, it’s behavior like this that drives me to be a dominatrix. At least I can be in control of the humans that come into my chambers.”
She opened the fridge and grabbed some leftover takeout she had delivered for lunch. A little food, a long soak in the bathtub, and some TV while curled up in bed. That sounded like an excellent night to Anya. She chuckled to herself. If only the detective could see how Anya spent her time off. Surely, Detective Baros would change her mind about Anya being a cold-blooded killer if she could see the fluffy socks and obsessive need for every door and window to be locked at all times.
Chapter Eight
“Where the fuck is she?!”
Jaime blew out an exasperated breath, relaxing back into her seat. For three nights, she’d sat here. For three nights, she’d watched every last fucker who had entered and left the club. But at no point had she come across Lady A. Considering this was her place of…work, Jaime had to question why she didn’t appear to be doing her job lately. Was it because she had something to hide? Had Lady A moved on, choosing to prey elsewhere? Or was she taking personal time from the club, given what had happened with Maisie? Jaime didn’t know any answers to the questions swimming around in her head, but she wasn’t moving from this spot. The parking lot. If she had to sit here every damn night for the foreseeable future, then that’s what she would do.
“Whyareyou doing this?”
Jaime rested her head back, cracking the window ever so slightly. She knew why she was doing this. She wanted to see Lady A again. She wanted to delve a little deeper into the mind of the woman who had unexpectedly appeared in her life. Her dreams, too.Fuck!
The parking lot was quiet and unassuming for a place that seemed so busy inside. Sure, Jaime had watchedmultiplepeopleentering the club, but at first glance, someone from the outside would be none the wiser as to what had happened here just a few nights ago. That only left Jaime shuddering. Had Maisie known her killer? Had she spoken with them, felt safe with them, or had it been a random attack from behind…meaning she had no idea what was about to happen? Part of Jaime hoped the latter was true, but the other part of her wished Maisie had never been out here alone. Yes, it seemed peaceful, but the darkness and the silence didn’t always mean safety.
Jaime’s phone flashed on the passenger seat. She lifted it and cleared her throat. “Baros.”
“You at home?”
She winced, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I, uh…no. I’m out walking.”
“Walking?” Max asked, and then he laughed. “Why the fuck are you out walking?”
“Because I wanted to? Because I didn’t feel like sitting in that fucking apartment all night.”
“Why don’t you walk towards the bar on the way home, and I’ll buy you a drink. You’ve been in your own head a lot since the latest victim.”
Jaime appreciated Max’s concern, but she was just fine. “I’m good. But thanks.”
“Come on, Baros.”
