Burning Desires, page 10
“Away with the fairies, but still so delectably hot and hirsute,” Sisco supplied and took his place on the couch. “If only he were into men.”
If only he were into me, Remi thought and her brows slid lower. With Rex still away, her nights had become incredibly lonely, and even though she had the occasional fuck with a drummer when bands came to the club, it still wasn’t the same. Drew wasn’t the same as Rex, but he still titillated her and the glimpse of chest hair she’d seen last night told her he had a good body of it. Heaving a sigh, she got back to work.
*****
Drew walked into the club just after nine with no intentions of replaying the night before. He was there to find out who was supplying drugs and was determined to get to the bottom of Merriam’s overdose and subsequent death.
He danced his way through the crowd to the bar and ordered a cola on the rocks, sipping it while scanning the club goers. He recognised a few from the night before, including Dr Teeth with new disciples in the ring. He still hadn’t found any information on him. There was no social media unless you accounted for Dr Teeth from The Muppets. No one by that name had a license, Medicare card, nothing, so it was clearly a stage name, and unless they got fingerprints, DNA, or an actual name, it was going to be a lot harder to find out who he was and what he was up to.
He saw Remi schmoozing with her patrons on the mezzanine and admired her taut behind in her skin-tight leather pants. God how I’d love to yank them off floated through his head. He snapped out of it. Nope, can’t be thinking that way. I have a murder to solve. He finished off his drink and made his way into the throng.
Remi was pulled over by Sisco when she got back to the bar. “I see our studly detective is here again. Wonder what he’ll get up to this time?”
Remi barely heard him above the music but glanced at Drew who was thrusting his pelvis at a hot brunette with dark features. “Looks like he’s having fun,” she replied dryly and escaped to her office.
Close to midnight, Drew found himself in the toilets taking a leak. Washing his hands, he saw the two dots on his neck, redder than before, and rubbed them.
“You too, huh?”
Drew looked towards the voice and found it belonged to a twenty something, tall, skinny redhead. “What?”
“You too. You got bit, too.” The redhead nodded at Drew’s neck. “A lot of us are into it. I prefer biting to being bitten. It’s very sexual and erotic.”
“Ah…” Drew thought fast. “Yeah, it is. I just can’t remember much after it.”
“That’s the point.” The redhead fixed his hair and gave himself the once over in the mirror and nodded. “That’s the whole point. Get high, don’t remember.” He clucked his tongue twice, said, “Cheers,” and walked out.
Get high, don’t remember. Drew thought about his words. Get high on the kink? How do you get high from being bitten? The thought stayed in his mind as he walked out and found the brunette waiting for him.
“Well, hello again,” she murmured, sliding her arms around his neck. “Ready to get kinky?”
“Get kinky how?” His hand slid to her waist, and he escorted her to the dance floor.
“By going into one of the private rooms?” Her mouth was at his ear. “And by using these.” She held up a packet of teeth just like the ones he’d taken from the blonde’s bedside table that morning.
“And how do we get kinky with plastic teeth?” He played along. “You bite me, and I feign subservience because you’re secretly Dracula?”
Her left brow rose. “You feign subservience? Oh, no, my hot stud. You won’t be feigning it; you’ll actually be doing it.” She ripped open the packet and pushed the teeth over hers. “Ready?”
“And we’re going to a private room?” he asked as she led him by the hand. “Where?”
She looked over her shoulder. “You’ll see. Have you not been before?”
“No. Not here,” he said as they stopped at the red curtains.
The brunette flashed her pass at the attendant, and he scanned the code and nodded. Pulling aside the red velvet curtains, she led Drew between them into the darkened hallway and shoved him against the wall. “Let’s get this party started now so it kicks in.” She laid the fangs in before he could stop her.
His eyes widened at the sharp pain. “Hey! What are you doing?” His hands grasped her arms and his head bent. “What the fuck!”
She pulled away and removed the teeth. “Don’t worry; it’ll kick in in a few minutes. Have you never done this before?”
“I’ve never done it, no.” He breathed deeply to clear his now fuzzy head. “But it’s been done to me, twice now. Ugh, what is that?” He doubled over and leant on his knees. “What the fuck is that?”
“That…is fun kicking in,” she said. “And I’ve booked into room three for some fun. Let’s go.” She led him down the hall.
“Room three?” He blinked under the lights. There were dimmed but seemed like bright shining spotlights to him. “What the fuck is happening to me?”
“Fun.” She knocked on the door and opened it to find the other guests already there. “Ready?” she called, seeing eager eyes turn to her.
“Ready for what?” Drew was lightheaded, dizzy, but strangely euphoric.
“For this.” She pulled him into the room and closed the door.
He saw naked women on top of or under naked men. Others were doing it standing. “Wait…”
She whipped open his black shirt to reveal his full torso of hair and pushed the shirt off his shoulders.
“I love a hairy beast.” A woman being pumped from behind eyed Drew. “Me next.”
“You next what?” Puzzled, Drew frowned and saw the brunette in front of him go to her knees. “What are you…whoa!” His head fell back as the warmth of her mouth enveloped him.
“Holy fuck that’s a big dick,” a woman yelped as the man inside her pumped his final thrust. “Can I try?”
Dazed, Drew looked from the woman who’d spoken, to every other woman in the room who were advancing on him, to the woman sucking on his dick.
The room spun, and he was gone.
CHAPTER 8
Drew woke to another bleary bedroom. He tried remembering what had happened the night before, but his mind was a blank. His stomach rumbled and he rolled over, wiping his eyes clear. Flicking on the bedside light, he saw he was in his own room.
Thank fucking Christ for that, he thought, falling back on the bed. Thank fucking Christ. Breathing slowly, he unpeeled his tongue from his palate and tried swallowing, but his mouth resisted. Turning his fogged head, he saw the bedside clock blinking 9 a.m. “Fuck,” he croaked. He was going to be late for work again.
He rolled out of bed, and stumbled into the bathroom for a cold shower, followed by a quick shave, and a drink of tap water and a couple of paracetamol tablets. He dressed quickly, grabbed his phone, ID and keys, and raced off to work.
His boss was none too happy. “Reilly. My office, now,” he called from his office doorway. He’d been drinking his coffee when he’d seen Drew run to his desk.
Drew paused at his desk, eyes sliding closed. “Fuck!” he muttered.
“Guess who’s in trouble.” Richard sniggered.
Drew gave him a dirty look and turned tail, heading for his boss’s office.
Waylon stepped aside and closed the door once Drew had entered. He paused and walked behind his desk. “What the hell is going on, Reilly? This is the second day in a row you’re late and hungover—”
‘I’m not hungover,” Drew butted in. “I proved that yesterday with the breathalyser. I don’t drink. I’m not drunk. I’ll do another one to prove it.”
Waylon leaned back in his chair and waved for him to sit. “Then you tell me what the hell is going on.”
Drew relaxed back in his seat. “I don’t actually know. I don’t remember much. I’ve been going to the club where the young girl overdosed. The Cavern Club, owned by that pop star, Remi Steele. I’ve been going undercover—”
“Off or on the books?” Waylon crossed his legs and picked up his cup.
“On the books. I logged in and wrote up what happened,” Drew replied. He tried to swallow. “You don’t happen to have a bottle of water, sir? My mouth feels like a desert.”
“On the cupboard.” Waylon indicated to the drinks bar he had set up with coffees, teas, and other refreshments.
Drew walked over and grabbed a bottle, cranking it open and downing half before speaking again. “It’s in the report from yesterday.”
“In your own words.”
Sighing, Drew began at the beginning. “Because the young woman, Merriam Webster, collapsed at the club, I’ve been trying to find out if she took the drugs before or after she got there. The medical report couldn’t specify a time for ingestion, so I’ve been going undercover at the club to see what I could find out, who I could see, if anyone was selling.”
“And are they?” Waylon placed his cup on his desk and leaned both elbows on it, arms crossed. “Are they being sold or given out in the club?”
Drew sighed again and slumped in his chair. “That’s just it. I don’t know. Remi runs a tight ship, but even she knows things slip past her guards and bouncers. She does what she can. And I haven’t seen any money or drugs being passed between hands. So, I don’t have any evidence yet.”
“Remi?” Waylon asked. “You’re more familiar than you should be, detective.”
A blush crept across Drew’s cheeks. “Well, that is her name.”
“Maybe so, but it’s Ms Steele to you for this case.”
Drew gave a small nod and fiddled with the bottle lid. “Sir.” His head dropped in embarrassment.
“If you’re not drunk, are you high?”
Drew’s head shot up. “I don’t do drugs just as much as I don’t drink.”
Waylon pointed as he spoke. “Your eyes are bloodshot and dull; your skin is a little pale. You’re dry, so have a need to drink, and you have spots on your neck as well as a headache, I’m sure.”
Frowning, Drew reached up and rubbed his neck, feeling the tiny bumps under his fingers. “I said I don’t…” A flashback of the woman popped into his head. What had they done? Had they slipped him something? No…they’d both…
“Detective. Any ideas?”
Drew snapped out of his reverie as the idea popped into his head. “I think it’s maybe the teeth, but I can’t be sure.”
Waylon’s brow furrowed. “Teeth? What teeth?”
“The teeth. The plastic teeth, the vampire teeth.” Drew stumbled over his words. “Everyone said it was just a new kink. That you put them in and bite people on the neck.” He rubbed the spots again. “But what if it’s not just a kink? What if it’s a way of delivering drugs and people wouldn’t know?”
Waylon nodded at the spots. “And you’ve been bitten.”
“Twice…” The light dawned for Drew and his head bowed. “Ah, Jesus. I didn’t even realise, but it would account for my memory loss. I don’t remember what happened afterwards except for waking up late and feeling like shit.”
“Okay, you’ve been compromised on this case, with or without your knowledge, so I’m taking you off it for a few days and handing it over.” He picked up his phone and tapped a button.
Drew leaned forward in his seat. “You can’t do that. I’m clearly getting somewhere. If the teeth are another way they’re getting drugs to people, then we’re halfway there.”
John and Richard came through the door. “Sir.”
“Close the door and listen,” Waylon told them, and once they had, he said, “Reilly’s taking a few days off so you’re helping out on the overdose case at the club.” He pointed at Drew. “Reilly here thinks the drugs are being administered in fake plastic teeth, and we believe he’s been compromised because of it. I need you to go down to the club and check the ground outside for any evidence. I’ll get the CSIs to meet you down there.”
Perplexed, John shook his head. “What are we looking for? I don’t get it.”
“Fake plastic teeth. Like vampire teeth. But you don’t need to go to the club, I’ve got some at home…” Drew’s voice trailed off because he realised what that meant.
“You have what at home?” Waylon demanded. “Where did you get them from and how do you have them?”
Blushing, Drew found his voice was croaky. “I…may have…taken them from the woman I woke up next to yesterday.” The redness spread across his face and neck as John and Richard teased him.
“Enough.” Waylon put his hand up. “Take Reilly back to his house to collect the evidence and then get down to the club to see if you can find more. At least we’ll have a clean set for the lab to examine, and we might get some DNA off the used lot. Meanwhile, Reilly, you’ve got the rest of the week off, so once that’s done, go home and rest, and I hope I don’t have to send you to rehab.”
Drew rushed to his feet. “But I’m getting somewhere. We have means, now we need motive and a perp.”
Waylon stood up. “Enough, detective. You’ve been compromised. Go home after the club. You can fill in the others on the way.” He stopped Drew’s protests and waved them out the door. “Go home. I’ll call the CSIs.” He watched as they closed the door behind them and headed for their desks to collect their coats. That was all he needed, another drug-addled detective on his team.
*****
Burrows and Wong followed Drew back to his house, and waited while he went to collect the packets of teeth, before following him to the club.
They discussed what had just happened on the way, as they didn’t know much about the case overall, and hadn’t read the files yet, wrapping up their conversation as they pulled up behind Drew. The CSI van was already there, and they alighted and walked over.
“I hear you’ve got some evidence for me, detective.” Wednesday Mitchell held out a bag. “Drop them right in here.” A twelve-year vet, she’d worked with the boys before. She saw the teeth in the packets. “Nice. Some good fresh evidence could be on there.” After sealing the bag shut, she handed it off to one of her co-workers. “So, we’re after used teeth. Any place in particular?”
“Probably the back alley, but there may be some out front, in gutters or bins,” Drew said, and quickly filled all three in on what was happening with the case.
“Interesting new way of delivering a hit of anything.” Wednesday nodded. “Let’s go.”
The team spread out, searching under rubbish, behind crates, whatever was left in the alley. Out the front, the gutters were searched, and after an hour, they’d found several specimens to provide them with DNA evidence.
“Detective Reilly. What the fuck are you doing to my club?”
Drew turned around and saw Remi standing outside the police tape, arms crossed, right foot tapping, and a scowl on her face.
“Oh, my God, is that Remi Steele?” Wednesday gawped. “I love her so much.”
“She’s hot.” John nudged Richard in the ribs and grinned. “Hey, Drew, she single?” He received a scowl in return.
Drew hurried over to Remi. “Ms Steele, this isn’t about the club, it’s about collecting evidence.”
“In front of, and behind, my club,” she spat. “Of course, it has to do with it. What the hell are you after?”
“Teeth.”
“What?” Puzzled, Remi shook her head. “That dickhead that comes to the club?”
Drew shook his head. “No, the plastic teeth your patrons wear to bite each other.”
“The…what? Why would you be after fake teeth? That’s just a kink.”
“Apparently not,” Drew told her. “We think that’s how the drugs are administered, so we need some to do tests on.”
“The plastic teeth are for drugs…” Remi’s brows knotted. “But that means…”
“Biting each other wasn’t a kink. It was doping each other.”
The realisation crashed over her. “Fucking hell! That means I’ve been letting drugs into my club and didn’t know. I thought they were harmless plastic push-ins. It didn’t even occur to me it had to do with drugs.”
“Ah…Reilly, maybe you shouldn’t be talking to our main suspect,” Burrows said from behind them. “It is her club.”
Remi leaned past Drew to see the two detectives. “I’m not a drug dealer, or your main suspect,” she retorted in anger. “So, you can fuck right off. If you’ve found them outside then people are obviously getting them outside the club. It’s nothing to do with me.”
“Okay, stop.” Drew put his hands up to hold them at bay. “All we’re here for is evidence, nothing else, and since we have what we came for, we can go.” He looked at his fellow detectives. “Burrows, Wong, go back to the station.” He turned to Remi. “Ms Steele, we just needed to find some teeth. We’ve done that; we’ll be on our way. Boys.” He waved them on and followed them back to their cars.
“Um, Ms Steele.”
Remi turned to see Wednesday standing nearby. “Yes?”
“Could I get a picture with you?” Wednesday nervously pointed at her phone. “I’m such a huge fan and still have all your cds.”
Remi regarded the woman before her. “Ah…sure.” She posed for a few snaps then stood in the club’s doorway, watching the remaining police vehicles pack up and leave. “I fucking knew Teeth was trouble,” she muttered under her breath. “But how the fuck do we prove it?”
*****
As much as he wanted to be at work dealing with the case, Drew knew his boss would just order him back home, so home he went. He went straight into his ground floor office where he had wall mounted whiteboards he could lay the case out on. Someone was supplying drugs, potentially in the teeth, to club goers before they entered the club, or while they were in the club. That meant someone was taking them in and handing them out.
Merriam arrived with the suspect named Dr Teeth. Or at least was there with him. After she collapsed, he and the others took off, and didn’t come back to the club for a few days. She died from her overdose and had two small red dots on her neck.
