Burning Desires, page 20
“Yeah, yeah, it is.” He bowed his head so his forehead touched hers, resting a moment and closing his eyes. “We can’t find Teeth, and we don’t know who killed John. We only know he went into the club, came out later and collapsed. A couple of teens saw an opportunity and robbed him, then went and trashed his house.”
“You found them?” she asked softly, stroking his face.
“Yeah, we have. They were on parole for another crime and confessed when we showed them the footage.”
“Did Teeth have anything—?”
“No.” He shook his head. “They said they came across him. They had nothing to do with Teeth.”
“Bugger!”
“Yeah…bugger.”
“You want to stay?”
Opening his eyes, he looked into hers and nodded.
*****
In the morning, Drew went back to his place to shower and change and headed to the station for another day of drudgery. They were no closer to catching Teeth or the killer, and he also had to deal with Rex which he didn’t want to do. But for the sake of Remi’s heart, he had to.
*****
That night at the club, Rex knocked on the office door and entered before she could say anything.
“I could have been naked,” she complained, closing one file and opening another.
“That’s what I was hoping for.” He grinned and closed the door behind him.
“Bullshit!” she exclaimed. “You just wanted to see if I was fucking anyone other than you. Probably, specifically, Drew.” She signed her name on multiple papers and closed the folder before looking up. He’d been silent after that comment, and was now standing uncertainly. “What’s wrong? Was I wrong?”
His head shook slowly. “No…not really…no.” He shifted from one foot to another until he just paced around the room, looking at certifications and photos on the walls, opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, cracked it open, noticed the Murphy bed was up, sculled back a few mouthfuls, looked at the awards on the wall behind the desk, kept moving until he came to the couch, where he slumped onto it and settled in.
“Have a nice walk?” she quipped and opened another folder. She read the file, signed her name, and closed it. “You know, Rex, there’s clearly something wrong with you and you’re moving around—”
“No there’s not.” He took a swig of beer.
“Yes, there clearly is,” she went on, leaning back in her chair to watch him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so mopey. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you mopey. Rough and gruff and sexy as hell, but not mopey.”
That got a slight grin out of him. “Nah…you’re probably right.” He finished off the bottle, placed it on the side table and put his arm behind his head, using it for a pillow. “I don’t know what’s got into me.”
“Bullshit! You were fine when you walked in, but the moment I mentioned Drew—”
“I don’t wanna hear his name.” Rex waved a hand in protest. “Nope. Don’t wanna hear it.”
“He came over last night.”
“What!” Rex exploded off the couch, slammed his hands on her desk and leaned in close. “He did what?”
She arched a brow and tried not to laugh. “Well…that certainly got some heated action out of you. Yes. And he stayed the night, too.”
“What the fuck, Remi?” Rex slammed the desk and started back and forth in front of it. “How could you do that? How could you let him come over and then let him stay?”
“He came all right,” she murmured, remembering the orgasms they’d both enjoyed.
“Fucking hell, Remi. How could you?”
“Calm the fuck down, Rex. I fucked you the other night on the couch.” She pointed to it. “And I fucked Drew last night in my bed, just like I did you months ago. Besides, he came over to update me on the case, and apologise for being a dick the other night. Are you going to apologise for being a dick now?”
“What? I…” He stopped; brows furrowed. “I’m…not.”
“Bullshit!” she scoffed. “Of course you are, and I’ll tell you what I told him. We’re in our forties, act like it. Now…” She pulled another file towards her. “If you’re not going to act your age, get out. Otherwise, what did you actually come in for?”
“Um…” He faltered, and took a moment. “Just wanted to see you. See how you were, are, if you’re okay. I heard about the other night. Some woman tried to attack you?”
That stopped her. “That got around fast.”
“Yeah, Sisco, I think. But I saw the cops when I left. You okay?” He shoved his hands into his pockets, nerves suddenly hitting him. Which was unusual, since Rex Titus had never been nervous in his entire life.
She sighed, watching his body language. “I’m fine. But what’s your real reason for being here?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Remi. Can’t a guy just ask a friend if she’s okay after being attacked?” blasted out of him. “Fucking hell. I’m not on trial for anything.”
“Are you on drugs?” she demanded. “High on something, because you’re swinging faster than a fucking pendulum. What is going on, Rex?” She pushed herself out of her seat and stalked around the desk. “Pull your fucking head out and get over yourself, and tell me what the fuck is wrong. Oh…” Her eyes widened. “You’re jealous.”
“What! Fuck no!” He viciously waved a hand and stormed around the room. “Why the fuck would I be jealous—”
“Because I’m fucking both of you.”
He stopped, growled deep and guttural, grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to him. Their lips met with fiery passion and within moments they were naked and pulling down the Murphy bed to fuck like two crazy animals for a few short moments. Their cries were heard to those only in the office.
“Fuck you, Rex,” she gasped. “You are jealous.”
“Of course I fucking am, Remi. I want you to myself. I don’t want to share you.”
When they were done, Remi dressed and went into the club. Another Night, one of the top local bands was singing Another Night, Another Club, a slow rock ballad from their current album, Segue. They were going for a rockier sound with the new music and it seemed to be paying off. But that could also be down to Rex’s management.
“Sound good? They’ve been working on this new sound for months.” Rex stood beside her watching the band on stage.
“They do.” She nodded in agreement. “You’ve got a good band there, Rex. Go and look after them, and I’ll look after my patrons.” She moved off and greeted acquaintances, old friends, and former record company execs she’d once worked with, before strolling along the mezzanine to meet more. When all had what they needed, she moved past Rex who was standing on the ring’s steps watching the band, to make sure her private guests in their private rooms were also enjoying themselves. When she saw they were, she returned to the bar and sat on her stool beside it.
“Well, if it isn’t Remi Steele.”
Remi’s head snapped to the right and she saw a slim man, no more than late twenties with short brown hair. “Yes?”
“I’m such a huge fan of yours, Ms Steele. You and your club.” He reached for her hand to shake it and when she reciprocated, he clasped it between both of his. “It’s such an honour to meet you. I have every cd, still, and had posters on my wall.”
“That’s nice,” she said, getting a naggy little feeling. “A lot of fans did.”
“Oh, I’m so much more than a fan. I’m an admirer.” He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I am so incredibly humbled and honoured to meet you.”
She pulled her hand from his and frowned. Fans were normally respectful, but this was bordering on creepy. “That’s nice.” She noted the black turtleneck and pants, and paler than pale skin. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself, and tell your friends about it. Word of mouth is important.”
“Oh, very important,” he agreed. “I’m in business myself, and it would not have succeeded without word of mouth. Can I get a photo?”
“A what? Oh…sure.” She plastered a fake smile on her face as he stood beside her to take a photo of the two of them. His head was right beside hers and she detected the faint whiff of citrus. He took several before moving away.
“Thank you so much for that, Ms Steele, I’ll definitely tell my friends about The Cavern Club in case they haven’t already been.”
“Great, you do that.” She gave a slight nod of her head as Rex interrupted.
“Rem, dance?” He held out his hand, gave the kid a side-eye, and escorted her to the dance floor, taking her into his arms. “Who the fuck was that twat?”
“Some creepy influencer, I think.” Remi put her face close to Rex’s so she could watch the man over Rex’s shoulder. “He’s still standing at the bar watching, and I got a creepy feeling when he was talking.”
“Creepy how?” Rex slid his arms around her and sighed deeply, resting his head on her shoulder.
“Like he was a greasy little weirdo who was hitting on me.” She watched him. “And that I knew him somehow.”
“From where?”
“Don’t know. But with everything else going on, I guess I need to be careful.” She watched the guy order a drink, his back to her, but she sensed he was watching her in the reflection of the glass above it. Sisco was also at the bar sipping his drink. “Okay, I’m weirded out and need to get out of here.” She stepped out of Rex’s arms.
“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested. “My place?”
“You have the band; you need to be here. I don’t. I’m gonna head out back.” The music was giving her a headache on top of the gut clenches that her nerves were giving her. There was something about the guy that creeped her out. “I need to go home. Bye, Rex.” She kissed him on the cheek and headed for the office, passing Sisco and flashing her eyes wide as a signal. She closed the hall door behind her and walked into the office. She was collecting her bag and putting her files away when Sisco walked in.
“I’ve locked the hall door. What’s up?”
“I’m leaving because that guy at the bar is giving me the creeps, so make sure to lock up tonight after closing.”
“Will do, boss. I’ll get the boys.”
“I’ll call my driver.” Remi called to let him know she was leaving and met her guards in the hallway. “It’s an early night for me, boys. Let’s go.” They exited into the alley and into the car with no issues, and fifteen minutes later Remi was locked securely in her penthouse apartment, wondering why the creep in the club had hit a nerve.
CHAPTER 17
After an uneventful few days and nights, Remi got a call late Saturday night from Sisco.
“I gotta go, Remi. I don’t feel good. My stomach’s gurgling. I’ve had diarrhea twice.”
“Don’t want to know,” she said. “Can you wait until I get in? I have to get my driver, my guards.”
“I’m about to collapse and end up in the ER, Remi.”
She heard gurgling sounds and then what sounded like vomiting. “Fucking hell,” she muttered, and waited a few moments, hearing the toilet flush and the tap come on.
“Now I’m vomiting,” he finally said. “I feel so sick, Remi. I can’t close up.”
She sighed and gave a little growl. “Okay. Hang on until I get there. Tell a couple of guards to meet me in the ally. I’ll park there.”
“Will do, ah, ugh.”
She ended the call to save herself from the sounds he was making, and freshened up, changed clothes, and grabbed her handbag. It was ten on a Saturday night, her night now ruined. She left the penthouse, rode the elevator down to the basement car park and got into her Suzuki Grand Vitara. It was nowhere near her Lamborghini in style and comfort, which sat beside the Suzuki with a locked cover on it. But tonight was not the night for flash.
Within fifteen minutes she was parking in the alley, and her guards met her and escorted her in. She took one look at Sisco in the private bathroom and ordered him to the hospital. “You look like shit, you smell like shit, and you probably feel like shit.”
He groaned, clutching his stomach as tightly as he was clutching the toilet bowl.
Her groan matched his and she turned to her guards. “Can you get him to the hospital? And if he vomits, or shits in your car, he’ll pay for the cleaning when he’s better.”
“And if it doesn’t come clean or just ends up stinking of said vomit and shit?” the guard asked.
“Then he’ll pay for a new car,” she replied and flinched at the sound of him vomiting. “Take a bucket and put him in the front seat.”
The guards nodded grimly and each took one of Sisco’s arms and hauled him to his feet. Remi handed them a bucket and they made it all the way to the car before he vomited again, all over the pavement out the back of the club in the staff carpark.
“Ugh. Get him out of here,” Remi groaned and locked the back door. She took a breath and made her way back to the office where she left a big sign in red sharpie for the cleaning crew to clean the bathroom because of Sisco’s vomit and shit. Both of which she underlined three times each. She taped it to the bathroom door and closed it against the smell that was making her want to vomit. “Ugh.” She settled into her couch and waited out the next three hours with Netflix on the big screen TV.
She was awakened by the crew coming in to clean and a check of her watch said it was 2:30 Sunday morning. “Oh, God, time to lockup. Fuck. I fell asleep. Okay ladies, read the sign.” She pointed to it. “And wear masks. He made a mess.” They exchanged amused glances and pulled out masks.
Remi left them to it and walked into the club. Multiple crews were vacuuming and cleaning on all levels and in all rooms. Patrons were normally out by 2:20 but a few stragglers often had to be ushered out after that time.
“Check the toilets, the basement, the band rooms. Check all rooms. No one leaves until all staff are accounted for and everyone’s fine,” she said into her walkie-talkie so that all staff members heard. Remi knew it would be another hour before that happened so began her personal check of the dance floor and seating areas. Objects were often found, from escaped earrings, to broken necklaces, to house keys, to items of clothing. All and sunder were often found at the end of a night. People knew how to party and party hard they did. Not even realising they’d lost anything until a few days later when they called up to see if it had been found. Times were arranged for pickups, and many items found their way back to the owners, but some didn’t and the lost and found box was filling up.
The dance floor held no secrets, but on her way around the ground floor seating area she found a few costume beads, not doubt from a broken bracelet, and a used condom. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she muttered, and then found a fake pink fingernail.
“Ms Steele, your office is done,” a cleaner called, before she pushed the trolley down the hall.
Remi hurried to it and deposited the beads and nail into the lost and found box, chuckling at the assortment of items before grabbing a drink from the fridge. I’d rather be at home in bed with Drew. Or Rex. Or both. She smiled at the thought and sat behind her desk ready to go over the check list for the night. But what confronted her sent chills down her spine.
In the middle of her desk sat a pale translucent set of fake teeth.
“Fucking hell!” She shoved her chair back, thrust up, and raced to her bag where she grabbed her phone and dialled Drew’s number.
“Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
The beep sounded and Remi yelled, “Drew, Teeth was here at the club. He left a set of teeth on my desk. He must have done it after the cleaners because I came in after them so he must still be here…now…” A cold prickling creeped up the back of her neck and she slowly turned to the doorway to the hall. “Fuck!”
“Hello, Ms Steele.” Dr Teeth stepped into the office and closed the door. “It’s high time that we make acquaintances again.”
Her hand fell to her side in shock. Her pounding heart and racing blood made her dizzy. And damn, she was scared. “How the fuck did you get in?” she whispered. Seeing he wore the same outfit he had every night in the club. Black turtleneck, jeans, long overcoat, fingerless gloves, old army boots, and a dirty top hat, and those God damn gold fucking vampire teeth. But she also picked up on something else. He didn’t stink like he usually did, of moth balls, body odour, and garbage. But a faint whiff of spice.
“I came in the usual way, like everybody else. I just stayed a little longer, hidden away so no one would see me just so I could talk to you.” He made small steps towards her, but she backed up until she was behind her desk.
“Get the fuck out. You’re banned. For life. And I’ve called the police that you’re here.”
“Ah, yes. Detective Reilly.” Teeth smirked. “Your lover. Is he as good in bed as I imagine?”
Her brows furrowed; her nostrils flared. The adrenaline kicked in. “Fuck off! Where do you get off asking that? Where the fuck do you get off killing people in my club? In any club. Where the fuck do you get off sending two of your goons to try and kill me? Because guess what, dickhead, they’re both dead.” Without thinking, she threw her phone at him, and while he ducked, she ran around the other side of the desk and flung open the door. She grabbed the door to the club and turned the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. What the fuck! They locked it from the other side.” She banged her fists on it and kicked it, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she scowled at Teeth. With both hands, she pushed him away and ran for the door to the alley, through it, and ran to the driver’s side of her car to jump in, but it was locked and she didn’t have the keys. “Fuck it!” she cried in frustration and saw Teeth in the doorway holding up her car keys.
“Looking for these?” he gloated, swinging them back and forth. “You’ll need to do better than that Remi Steele.”
