FicWad

THE ADJUSTERS



63

Los Angeles, Part 2



Daniel Malcolm felt strangely conspicuous in the back of the breakfast diner that touted that they served the best breakfast in the city, day or night. Partly it was because he was dressed more formally than the crowd that had been in the diner—more like a breakfast pub, to be exact—and that had steadily accumulated since he arrived. The place was packed.

But it was a silly reaction, because no one paid any attention to him. They were all students, all from the nearby UCLA, and he was not much older than them. They were loud, eating and talking about all of those things that college students talked about when they needed to wind down and the last thing they wanted to think about was anything serious. It was a Friday night atmosphere, but mid-morning. You could smell it in the air, the ethos of the average college student. Go out, have fun, get laid.

Daniel knew he was being unfair, but he also envied their seemingly insouciant approach to life—one he had himself held until fairly recently. A world where the biggest problem one could was figuring out whether to follow his girlfriend to Texas or not. And even the answer to that one had been easy. Now, everything had weight. Everything was important. Everything mattered. Having fun seemed almost like a foreign concept.

He looked at the entrance of the diner every time there was movement from that direction. He felt stupid even as he kept doing it. But he kept doing it. And then, she was there. Cindy Caprese, now Barnes, had just walked in the door, her eyes darting about the room, stretching up on her toes so that she had a chance to find him.

He raised his hand. At the same time, her eyes landed on him. Before he could do anything else, she disappeared. A group of young men walked across the diner, blocking his view. He moved to the side, but he could not find her.

She came at him from the side. He had barely enough time to see her and brace himself for impact as Cindy smashed into him and hugged him so tight he feared for his ribs. He hugged her back, and when she did not let him go, he laughed.

“Hey! It’s good to—”

He never finished his sentence. Cindy had pulled out of the embrace long enough to grab his head and pull him down to her so that she could kiss him—and what a kiss it was. Her hands in his hair, she did not let him escape, stabbing her tongue inside his month, her lips crushing his, her whole body getting into the act, a vibrating chord harmonizing with his body.

There was no way Daniel could resist. Her enthusiasm was contagious, her desire pure, reassuring. With Cindy, there were no games, no ploys, no secrets. There was no need to be guarded. He had never noticed it before, but he felt lighter, as if an immense weight had been lifted from him. And it struck him how sunk into depression he had been back in Baltimore.

The guilt, the guilt that never left him whenever he was enjoying himself, whenever he forgot that there were dark things afoot, circled him like a vulture. Jenn. She was alone, out there in the world, subject to who knew what, who knew where. How was she? Was she still Jenn? Was she even alive. She was never far from his mind, even as he kissed another woman.

Cindy must have felt the change. She leaned back, eyeing him with her laughing eyes, gauging him, reading him as though he were transparent. She knew what he was thinking—she had to, she had been privy to too many of his late night self-mortifications over video chat. But she said nothing about it. “God,” she said instead, “I needed that. That’ll hold me over until at least the end of the first drink.”

She sat next to him at the small table, and Daniel had a good look at her, for the first time in person since she had changed her appearance under advice from Sam O’Neill. She had been cute and bubbly and always full of laughter, and that was no different now. She always wore short skirts or dresses that exposed her beautiful legs and made the most of the her short height. But whereas she used to have long blonde hair, she now sported a shorter darker do that Daniel had to admit complemented her looks perfectly. And she had on a pair of glasses that gave her a welcome air of sophistication. She looked good.

“You’re staring,” Cindy said.

“Sorry.”

“You kidding me? Stare as much as you want—you want a closer look, feel free to rip my clothes off and have your way with me. I promise I’ll only put up a token fight.”

Daniel had almost forgotten how forward Cindy could be, how easy she was with her sexuality. She liked him, and he liked her right back. Not like Jenn—he liked no one the way he liked Jenn—and he felt bad about that, but Cindy did not seem to mind. She did not love him, he was sure of that. Though what she felt instead he could not tell.

He must have been another face, for after ordering a stack of speciality waffles, Cindy looked at him. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

Daniel had called her after spending a day by himself in Los Angeles, abandoned by Shawbank who was pursuing something based on what he had told her, that the woman at the hospital, Rebecca McGregor, had a tattoo of a braided circle on her hip. That the tattoo reminded him of the one that Calypso and Elizabeth Parkinson had back home, he did not share with Shawbank. He still needed to digest that bit of information.

Cindy had been surprised when he called her out of the blue, then elated when she had learned he was in town, then she had begged for them to meet. She had been the one to suggest this breakfast diner, arguing that they would get lost in the young crowd since it was always packed. She had been right.

“It’s pretty stupid that I did,” he said.

“Really? Why?”

“You know exactly why.” He did not need to remind her of what O’Neill had said. The private investigator had come into their lives after the events at Darnell that had destroyed the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity house almost a year earlier, the events during which his Jenn disappeared into the wild, driven by the last minute instructions of that asshole Biff who had enslaved her and twisted her mind. Sam O’Neill had saved Cindy from an attack the night of the fraternity explosion, attack that he firmly believed had been instigated by ADCorp itself, probably she had been affected by technology developed by Thaddeus Cargyle whom O’Neill claimed had been a researcher at ADCorp.

“Mister Dick is a big ninny.” They always talked in code when referring to the people in their lives. Another of O’Neill’s instructions.

“Mister Dick saved your life.”

“And I’m grateful. Like, super grateful. But he’s still a big ninny.”

“He’s worried, Cin. Worried that the Company will find you.”

Cindy shrugged, and bit into one of her waffles. “They already found me.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I have four fine young men following me for the past couple of months. Don’t know how long they’ve been around before I noticed.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Because Mister Dick is a big ninny. If he knew, he’d shit bricks.”

Daniel swallowed the news. Cindy did not seem particularly bothered. “What have they done?”

“Nothing. They’re just keeping an eye on me. They’re nice. Especially Francesco. I don’t think he’s cut out for the job, though. Too soft.”

“Francesco? You know them?”

“Of course. I bring them coffee once in a while, and chat a bit. It must be stupefyingly boring to surveil little old me.”

“Coffee? Chat them up? Are you insane?”

“Dan, they’re inoffensive. Francesco told me that their orders were to keep an eye on me, but do nothing.”

“Francesco told you?”

Cindy smiled a smile that was all innocence. “I told you. He’s not really cut out for this job. I mean, you’d figure a trained agent like you and him would be able to resist a little flash of leg.”

“Right. A little flash of leg. You mean you sat on his lap and humped him until he came in his pants?”

“What sort of girl do you think I am?”

“One that doesn’t let a little thing like decorum stand between her and what she wants.” He shook his head, and stared at her waffles. His piece of toast was turning cold in front of him.

“Relax, Dan. It’s all good. I can take care of this.”

“I don’t like it,” he said.

“So let’s talk about stuff we like, okay? Like, for example, how well you clean up! Look at you, you’re all professional and stuff! You got that whole ‘I’m a big important person now.’ It’s kindda sexy.”

“Cin, you think everything’s sexy.”

“Your point being?” She tilted her head, all smiles and sweetness.

“I’m not entirely sure anymore.” He had to smile back at her.

He had missed her. He had missed a friend, someone that knew him and that knew what had happened to him. Calypso back home was nice, but he did not know how much he could trust her.

“So what hot new case is bringing you to Southern California, Agent Malcolm?” Cindy asked in a mock official tone as she attacked her second waffle.

Daniel could hear the eagerness in her voice. He would not have a year earlier, when Cindy was just a girl that took a course with him, but he had come to know the young woman that she was. She cultivated an airhead personality and always wore incredibly short dresses, but she was a born scientist: smart, ravenously curious, and stubborn in the face of mystery. All good reasons to be fascinated by Specials.

“How do you know I’m here on a case?”

“Because that’s your job? And I can tell by the way you sit that you’re on working.”

Daniel fought to relax his back and shoulders. He did feel self-conscious when he was out on assignment. Even though he was only doing this job because he had to, because O’Neill asked him to take it. But hunting down Specials felt right, and a lifetime of habit at doing his best when he had agreed to do something—a habit his mother had sewn into him—was a difficult one to overcome.

“So?” she prompted him.

He watched a drop of syrup cling to the side of her lip. Her eyes were wide, glittering with excitement. Daniel knew, of course. Cindy might appear sunny and almost naive, but she had a kinky streak a mile wide, and what turned her on most was being forced to submit—and not playfully submit either. She had actually enjoyed her time at Darnell University when she had been programmed as a fuck doll by the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity. Until she developed what could only be described as an immunity to their programming. The thought of a Special, of a man whose power was exactly to force women to submit to his will, was for Cindy like catnip to a pussycat.

“You’re crazy,” he said, shaking his head.

“It’s been said.”

“We don’t know much. We don’t even if this is a… case.” Keeping his voice low, Daniel told her about Christina and her broken leg, and about Rebecca at the hospital. He gave her the rundown of Brisecoeur’s numerical analysis, at least the little of it he had managed to understand. He told her how Shawbank had given him carte blanche to finish the investigation on his own after he mentioned the tattoo on Rebecca’s hip.

Cindy frowned. “Why’s that important?”

“Because The Nymph has a similar tattoo on her little finger. And because my HR contact at the Company has one on her little finger as well.” Calypso was the Nymph.

Cindy’s eyes widened. “Wow. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”

“It might have been except that Shawbank reacted really weird when I told her about it.”

“What do you think it means?”

“I still haven’t thought it all through.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, though?”

Daniel looked at her. He knew where she was going, because he had gone there himself. It made sense, in a weird twisted way. Thaddeus Cargyle supposedly had worked for ADCorp, Elizabeth Shawbank worked at ADCorp, Calypso according to his mysterious informant Paul was used by ADCorp as a psychological test of Daniel’s fitness to his role. And the technology that Cargyle had used at Darnell had one requirement. “The bracelets.”

“Yup,” Cindy beamed, attacking her third waffle.

Back at Darnell, where the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity had been enslaving girls with their mind-programming technology supplied by Cargyle, the girls had sported charms bracelets that supposedly were meant to anchor the programming, a constant subconscious reminder to the part of the brain that might otherwise get confused of its own instructions.

“Okay, so the tattoo on the Nymph’s finger is an anchoring mechanism then.”

Daniel shrugged. “Maybe. Either that, or it’s just a brand of some kind.”

“What about the HR contact? Did you try to fire her up?”

“Fire her up?”

“You know! Kick start her programming! Get her to do stuff! Dirty stuff!” Cindy had a gleam in her eyes, the way she often did when she talked sex.

“I haven’t, no. I mean, what if I got it completely wrong?”

“Then you look a bit silly, unless you manage to splice whatever you need to say into casual conversation. I guess it would be the same trigger as the Nymph?”

“I don’t know. Okay, but what if it does work?”

Cindy’s smile got even wider. “Then you do the HR lady, silly boy! Is she hot?”

“Cin, is sex the only thing you think about?”

“Of course not! I also think about polymerase chain reaction because we have a project due on Wednesday, and cortical interneurons because they’re just cool.”

“That’s… reassuring?”

“And,” Cindy emphasized with a raised finger, “I want it to be stated for the record that it’s been a full fifteen minutes that I’ve been here and I haven’t been all over you yet. Except for the kiss. Which was nice. But no groping.”

“Are you sick?”

“Just playing with delayed gratification.”

“Again, how reassuring.”

Cindy flashed him another huge smile before returning to her waffles. Where the girl put all those calories Daniel had no clue.

“So you’re solo, then?” Cindy asked.

“Looks like.”

“Want a partner?”

“What?”

“A partner. Come on! It’ll be fun! We can go hunt down this guy together!”

“No way! That’s way too dangerous!”

Cindy rolled her eyes. “Pleeeease! I can take care of myself. Beside, if anything really bad happens, you’ll be there to protect me, with your mad secret agent ninja skills. Come on, Dan! Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please? With sugar on top?”

“No.”

Cindy came around the table to sit beside Daniel. Her bare thigh pressed against his leg. Her dress was so short is threatened to expose her underwear. If she wore any. She looked at him sideways, with a coy smile on her face. “Please?”

“No.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be super good.” She leaned closer, ran her hand up Daniel’s leg, and placed her lips on his ear. “And I’ll let you do whatever filthy despicable thing you want to me.” Her tongue sneaked out to lick him, making him shiver.

He turned to her. She remained close, her face an inch away from his. “You always let me do whatever I want to you.”

“I know. Aren’t you lucky?”

She had such an eager expression on her face that he let out a laugh that surprised him. It was the first laugh that he remembered emitting in the past several months. He felt a release out of proportion with the situation.

“You love it, you dirty boy,” she said, laughing with him.

“Maybe,” he said, still smiling, but more careful now. It was dangerous grounds. Cindy was looking for a dominant, and he indulged her. And if when it came down to it, he did enjoy the role. Maybe a bit too much at times. But why did he not enjoy it with Calypso when he was put in the same situation?

“I got a bunch of fantasies piled up that I can’t wait to play out with you,” she said in a low tone of voice, so unlike her usual high pitched enthusiastic cheery voice. “I know how much you like that!”

He did. It was something that Jenn—his Jenn, his fiancée, his love—could do so well, spin tales in his head that left him begging for more. Cindy was different of course, but she pushed similar buttons. Except she did not spin tales. She enacted dark twisted fantasies.

“Please,” she begged, and for a second Daniel did not know whether she was begging to be allowed to join him on his investigation or whether she was begging for him to take her. Probably both.

She kissed him, her lips soft but soon turning demanding as the kiss deepened. Before too long there was no one around them as she kissed him hungrily, her hand rubbing his cock through his slacks.

He pulled her head back, and looked at her. She was breathing hard, her eyes open wide, a need in them he had not seen in a while, and just that look turned him on for all the wrong reasons. And then in a flash he knew exactly what was different. This was genuine. This was Cindy, wanting him because he was him, and not because she was programmed to like him.

Or was she? came a dark voice from deep within him. The mere possibility turned his blood cold. Did she have a tattoo on her finger, or elsewhere on her body?

Cindy noticed his change of mood, and for once reacted on it. She pulled her hand out of his lap. “You okay?”

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Yeah. Sorry.” She was still looking at him expectantly. “Okay, fine!” He stopped her as she started to clap her hands and jump in place like a child after being told that Christmas came early that year. “But you have to promise me you’ll be careful, and that you’ll do as I say.”

She nodded slowly. “I’ll be good and obedient, sir.” She emphasized the sir. And before he could respond she pulled his hand up and slipped one of his fingers into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his. She sucked on his digit in an unmistakably suggestive way.

Guys from a nearby table noticed, and they started hooting, their voices lost in the ambient noise. Daniel pulled his hand away. Cindy turned to smile at the other table and blew them a kiss before jumping off the bench to go back to her other side of the table and resume her attack on her waffles.

“So where do we start?” she said in a burst of excitement.



*



“Our tech sent me this this morning,” Daniel said, when they were back in his rental car. Cindy was on the passenger seat next to him, and he was tempted to tell her to cover up, because her short dress sitting high on her thighs was threatening to become distracting.

Of course, if he told her, she would make it a game to show off even more skin, and so he kept his comment to himself.

“Your tech, that’s your Company tech guy, right? You and Super Cop?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like an interesting guy.”

“I guess. I don’t know him much. In any event! I asked him to try to plot possible timelines, identifying people with weird behaviors in the last two years in the region, correlate it with the behaviors we’ve identified with Christina and Rebecca, and try to come up with candidates as to who might be the first affected.”

“You know how much it turns me on when you speak smart?” She grinned, then turned serious. “Good thinking. Basically, try to find patient zero, and you’re banking on the rape analogy?”

“What? Oh, yes. The first victim being someone he was close to.”

“That’s assuming he’s from the area and didn’t move in after he started out somewhere else.”

“So it’s not a perfect plan. Have a better one?”

“I wasn’t criticizing. I was just trying to predict the likely failure scenarios so that we’re prepared should they arise.”

The way that Cindy shifted between her airhead and scientist personas always gave Daniel whiplash.

“Okay then,” he said, pulling up the list that Brisecoeur had sent him this morning. “The first on the list is Victoria Cresswell. She works at a bakery off Balboa Boulevard. She started making out in the middle of her store, with a customer.”

“Christina, Rebecca, Victoria. Maybe this guy has a thing for a names?”

As they drove off, Cindy asked the question that had been on Daniel’s mind for a while. “So, the girl at the hospital, the one with the tattoo—you think she works for the Company?”

“That would explain why Super Cop reacted the way she did, wouldn’t it?” Daniel agreed.

“I wonder what she does for the Company that Super Cop didn’t want you to know about…”



*



They found the Flour Hour Bakery without any difficulty. They were lucky in that Victoria Cresswell was working that day.

They were less lucky with the outcome of the encounter.

“Well hello there! How may I help you today?” Victoria asked from behind the counter. She was young, with straight burgundy hair cut in an asymmetric bob. A tattoo sneaked up her neck, and the array of rings lining up her left ear and the large piercing in her right nostril called themselves to Daniel’s attention.

“Victoria Cresswell?” Daniel asked.

“Who wants to know?” Victoria was immediately on the defensive, and reflexively pulled back from the counter. She wore a white apron and a small cloud of flour puffed out whenever she moved. Behind her breads of various kinds were slotted into arrayed holes in the partition that separated the counter from the baking area.

“My name is Daniel Malcolm. I’m with ADSec, a security firm, and I’m investigating a string of events in the area. I was hoping you might help me. Don’t worry,” he responded to Victoria’s suddenly suspicious look, “you’re not in trouble.” He tried his best smile.

“Hi, I’m Cindy. I’m a sidekick,” Cindy said from beside him. Her presence and her looks seemed to confuse Victoria to no end. She looked Cindy up and down and raised an eyebrow. Cindy merely let herself be looked over.

“O….kay,” Victoria finally said, she seemed to relax somewhat. “Buy a couple of breads, first? Help a gal out?”

Daniel looked at Cindy, and let her choose something she liked. Meanwhile, he studied Victoria. She seemed normal, within her own parameters. Then again, Christina had also seemed normal.

“Miss Cresswell—”

“Vickie,” she corrected him.

“Vickie, there was a report of a disruption in this store on September the—”

Vickie Cresswell swore loudly and looked up to the sky. “Oh my fucking GOD! Terr sent you, didn’t he? The fucking pissant!”

“Pardon me?”

“Terr—Terrance. He’s still pissed at me for leaving him, isn’t he? The bastard can never let go! Never! He’s like a fucking leech. And not the fun friendly kind.”

“I’m sorry, no, Terrance did not send us. Who’s Terrance?”

“Terrance Bergamot. My ex. He’s been after me to get back together ever since I dumped his cheating bastard ass!”

“So the incident back in September where you reportedly started making out with a random customer here in the bakery—”

“Ah! Fantastic fucking day that was. You should have seen the look on his face!” Vickie smiled a feral grin. “I got one of my exes, Razor, to drop by right around the time when Terr would stop by to say hi—usually after one of his flings too, because he felt guilty or some shit like that—and I just went nuts when Razor got in and jumped in his arms and started humping him like mad right there in the middle in the middle right in front of that fucking bastard!”

Cindy, listening beside Daniel, muttered, “Wow, that sounds pretty cool!”

Vickie gave Cindy an enthusiastic nod. “I know, right?” She looked back to Daniel, defiant this time. “The little fucker turned red then green, but he couldn’t say a thing because Razor’s like three heads taller and built like the Hoover dam. Then I dumped Terr and told him that I’d taken up with Razor and that he could go fuck himself and the cheap slut he nailed the night before.”

“I see,” Daniel said, nodding. “And Razor?”

Vickie’s grin turned from feral to happy, and she raised a hand, flashing a black ring on one finger. “We’re getting married in May. Turns out he’s been hungering for me ever since.”

“Congratulations,” Daniel said, as Cindy squealed next to him. “Thank you, Vickie. I think we have all that we need.”

“You know the worst part of it,” Vickie said, looking feral once more. “If Terr had just asked, I’d probably joined in a threesome with those sluts he kept banging. But no, he just wanted to go behind my back. So fuck him!”

At that moment, another customer entered the bakery. Daniel asked one last question. “Just for completeness, do you have Terrance Bergamot’s address?”

“Well, that was a bust,” Daniel said when he and Cindy were back in the car.

“You don’t think she was affected by your guy?”

“It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t fit the MO of the guy we’re looking for—if there’s an MO at all. But what Christina talked about had more humiliation to it. This one, not so much.”

“Aside from that Terrance guy.”

“Yeah, but he sounds like he was looking for it.”

“True. Okay, what next?”

“We go down the list. Next up, Samantha Royston. She’s a loan officer at Bank of America.”

“Cool. And may I say, that Vickie chick, she was hot as hell.”

“You’d say that,” Daniel said, driving off. He was smiling though.

“Come on, doesn’t she have that bad girl vibe that tells you she’s a freak in the sack? Do you think I should get a nipple ring?”



*



Doug Fairbank was not doing well. His head was throbbing, a pain that had not left him since he released himself from the hospital against the advice from his doctors. But he had had enough of that place. It was making him claustrophobic, something he had never experienced before. Just one more thing to add to the list of things he had never experienced before.

He was not supposed to be alive. The beating he had taken should have ended him—internal bleeding, he had overhead one doctor say to another, really bad. That one had been the most surprised when Doug had opened his eyes and asked for water.

Now all he wanted was to return to his routine, enjoy the things he used to enjoy. Which was why he was waiting in line for a coffee at his favorite coffee spot. But the line was slow, and the room was too warm. He felt a cold sweat run down his spine. He wondered whether he would be sick. He was about to leave when fate intervened.

The young woman behind him was on her cell phone, speaking too loudly—or at least, he felt she did, but then again, everyone around him spoke too loudly, or smelled too strongly, or moved too quickly.

“I know! I know!” the young woman was saying. “He’s just amazing. We’re moving in together in a week! I can’t wait—it’s going to be so awesome! And next July, I’ll be Mrs Kevin Brown.” There was a tinny squeal from the speaker, and the young woman laughed. “I’m blessed, there’s no other word it.” She laughed, a crystalline laugh that sounded to Doug like clanking gears.

His blood ran cold at first and then anger foamed and seethed and almost blinded him to the world around him.

How dare she?

How DARE she?

She sounded so happy and insouciant, going on and on about her charmed loved life, and yet he knew, he KNEW that she would just turn around and betray that poor guy, that Kevin. Just like his Rebecca, she would turn on him and side with a monster, an abuser that treated her like shit and yet she would go back for more and more and Kevin would end up on the ground his body half destroyed, left for dead. Like Doug.

He turned his head toward her, a roar in his ears, and he took in what he saw, in one long glance: she was slim, with long pale brown hair, straight, wearing a tight sleeveless blouse, a tight grey work skirt that went down to her knees but with one of those slits that made a dent up to the middle of her thighs and bared enough flesh to satisfy that she had nice legs. A pair of black high heels completed the ensemble. She looked professional—she probably worked in an office somewhere. A name tag She wore a name tag: Samantha.

She noticed that he was looking at her and she stared at him before turning her head away from him and dismissing him. How dare she? How DARE she? How dare she destroy a man’s life just like that, betray him and all that she said she felt for him?

He needed to leave.

He could not breath.

He took a step away from the line. At the same time that Samantha turned to avoid another customer coming from a different direction. Doug’s elbow touched her arm.

He felt the jolt from his elbow up to his gums, and his head gave one last throb and then cleared. Relief ran through his body, leaving only lingering resentment.

Samantha was frozen, looking straight at him, her mouth open, phone hanging off her hand. Doug did not know how, did not even know how he knew, but she was waiting for him to tell her what to do. A sense of profound justice filled him. She had dared, not knowing the risks of that dare. And now she would pay. She would not hurt men any more.

“Come with me,” he said.

He headed to a quieter part of the cafe, and she followed him, still holding on to her phone. He sneaked a long glance at her legs, marveling at how smooth her skin looked. Perhaps he would have some fun while he made sure she paid for what she would do to her lover. It was, after all, only fair.

“Get off the phone,” he told her as he sat down at a small table. She did, and turned to him. He nodded for her to sit down, and she did. “Samantha, right?” She nodded.

He looked at her straight in the eyes. Her expression was empty. She was a blank slate. She was his, he knew. But did she know? “You are going to do what I tell you, aren’t you?” She nodded again. Of course. He leaned back in his chair, free from the pain in his head for the first time in weeks. Where to start?

“Samantha, you’re going to answer my questions truthfully. You will not make a fuss, or raise your voice. And you will not leave until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she replied. She had a beautiful voice. And beautiful brown eyes. Did he imagine the look of terror behind those irises, or was it just his imagination? Did she realize that she was about to pay for what she would do in the future?

“I heard you on the phone before. You’re engaged?”

“Yes.”

“Your boyfriend must really like you. I mean, look at you. A hot little thing like you. I mean, I’m sure you shake that cute little ass and men just fall all over themselves trying to get into your panties. Is your boyfriend an ass man, Samantha?”

“Yes.”

Doug look at her for a long, feeling confused. He wanted to punish her, wanted to teach her that men were not to be played with like toys, but he was also getting horny. Somehow, the thought of having this beautiful young woman at his beck and call was turning him on. Or was it justice that felt so sweet and tantalizing?

“How do you know, Samantha? I want details.”

“He’s always looking at my ass when he think I won’t notice. When we make out, he’s always putting his hand on it, kneading it, squeezing it, sometimes giving it little slaps. He likes me to wear tight jeans too.”

“Bet he likes to take you from behind.”

“Yes. That’s how he likes to finish up, with me on my hands and knees, and him giving it to me from behind.”

“How about you, do you like it?”

“It feels good, physically, but I find it a little bit demeaning. I like to look at him when we make love. When he takes me like that, from behind, it’s a bit too animal for my taste.”

Perfect, Dough thought. “Do you love him, Samantha? Do you love your boyfriend?”

“Yes. Yes I do. He’s sweet, funny, smart, and generous. And he’s very patient with me when I whine after a hard day at work. He’s a prize, and I’m lucky to have him.”

“And does he love you?”

“He says he does, and I believe him.”

“That’s great, Samantha. So why are you going to betray him?”

Samantha looked confused for a second, a strange expression on top of her blankness. “I don’t understand.”

“You say you love your boyfriend. Kevin, right? If you love him, why are you going to betray him and hurt him and leave him for dead?” It was a valid question. Why would she do that?

“I’m not going to betray him…” She sounded unsure.

“Where do you work?”

“Bank of America. I’m a loan officer. I’ve been there four years, since I graduated college.”

“Ah, so not just a hot little thing, but a smart hot little thing. Fucked anyone in the office yet?”

“No. I would never cheat on my boyfriend that way. Especially not with the guys at the office.”

“That’s what you say. But I don’t believe you. What’s wrong with the guys at the office?”

“They’re crass. They just want to fuck me. They leer, they check out my ass, and they talk about me behind my back.”

“Really? What do they say?”

“They were talking—”

“Who?”

“The manager, and a couple of the sales people. It was at lunch. They didn’t know I was there, I was sitting at a table behind them, hidden by a tall plant.”

“So what did they say?”

“The manager was saying how he loved the way I dressed, the way my ass looked in my skirts. The sales guys agreed, one of them saying how he’d gotten a feel of it once in a tight elevator, and it was fine. The manager said he was sure that my ass must be so tight and he wondered whether my cunt—that’s what he called it, the pig—my cunt was as tight as my ass was, and that he’d pay good money to find out.”

“I was so angry—I wanted to go there and just slap them silly. Or cry. Or both. One of them said I should wear shorter skirts, that the slutty sexy look would do wonder for business. The manager said that I’d make a great little office perk. They talked about me like I wasn’t even a person, just a pair of legs with tits and holes.”

She said all of that with her calm almost empty expression, but Doug could sense there was emotion underneath her story. It made sense. She probably liked the attention. And that was how the betrayal would go, probably. She would give in to those men after she was married, and they would gang up on Kevin and kick him over and over again while Samantha laughed at his pathetic cries. He could see it so well.

He had to make sure that didn’t happen. He had to make sure Kevin saw her for who she really was.

“Samantha. That guy that was wondering whether your cunt was as tight as your ass—” it felt strange to say those words out loud in such a casual manner, strange but good, “he’s your manager you said?”

“Yes.”

“I like him. I like the way he thinks. And the other guys, too, those that want you to show off those legs and that ass. They’re right, you know?”

“They’re right?”

“Oh yes. A hot little thing like you should be much more accommodating. So here’s what you’re going to do. First off, you’ll go see your manager, and I want you to start dressing the way he wants. You’ll take your cues from him. When he tells you he likes something, or just when he makes it clear that he likes something, you’ll wear more things along those lines. Start with shorter and tighter skirts. High heels, obviously. Do yourself up for work—at work, you’re eye candy for your coworkers and customers alike. Your goal is to make every guy stare at you with desire and hunger.”

He saw in her eyes that what he was saying was taking hold, and that Samantha was realizing just what it meant.

“That’s just the beginning, though. No, really, I want you to show your boyfriend, and everyone else, just who you really are. From now on, whenever someone at work talks about sex or is being crude, dirty, filthy, it’s going to turn you on like crazy and you’ll feel a strong sexual attraction to the speaker. The cruder the better. You got it, Samantha? The more humiliated you get, the hotter you get.”

Her eyes told him that she understood. Doug could just imagine it, the first that her manager told her that she had a nice tight ass—he or one of those salesmen, it was just a matter of time—she would feel a stab of arousal down in her crotch, and eventually gave herself to him, and anyone else that asked. And Kevin would understand who it was that he was about to marry, and leave before real damage took place.

Doug leaned back in his chair again. Around them, life went on as usual, the cafe patrons unaware that justice was being done in that one lone table in the corner, that a wrong was being righted.

Doug felt good, better than he had ever since that day when Rebecca’s husband beat him to death.

Doug felt good, and he was highly aroused by now. His shaft was hard, had been ever since he had imagined what Samantha would end up doing at work. He needed his reward—every good Samaritan deserved one, didn’t they?

“Samantha. You will forget we talked, but you’ll remember what I expect you to do.”

“Yes.”

“Let’s see how well you understood me. We’ll play a game, okay? You said you’re a loan officer? Then I’ll be a client that’s coming in to get a new loan. My application looks good. We’re sitting in your office. Got it?”

“Yes. We’re sitting in my office at the bank. You’re coming in to get a new loan. You’re going to be approved.”

Her demeanor changed, she straightened up, and she smiled, and she looked at Doug, really looked at Doug.

“Well your loan application looks good, Mister…” She hesitated, realizing that she did not know his name.

“It doesn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you, Miss Royston, you look really hot in that skirt. You’re one fine piece of ass.”

Doug had to stifle a laugh. So it was not high prose. But it was not meant to be. Samantha stiffened, and he heard her sharp intake of breath.

“Excuse me?”

“I said you’re one fine piece of ass. I want to run my hands up your legs and check out what kind of panties a hot bitch like you likes to wear.”

Doug was amazed how liberating it felt to speak that way. To speak the truth. To bypass the layers of masks and personas and talk to the real person underneath it all.

Samantha shook her head, and she was slightly flushed. She was trying to be professional and do her job, but the arousal was settling in. “Listen, I don’t know what the problem is, but --”

“The problem is that I have a fuckin’ hot bitch in front of me that I’m picturing on her knees at my feet worshipping my dick with those dick-sucking lips of hers. How about that, baby? You like sucking on a stiff one? Bet you like to swallow too. Or do you prefer to spread man cream all over your face?”

He was having fun. He was putting on a show. Play the asshole macho man. The way Rebecca’s husband undoubtedly was. Was that what women liked? Was that the solution to his problem? Was that how he should have treated her? He could see sweat forming on Samantha’s upper lip.

“Please,” she said, never completing her sentence. She was breathing fast. What Doug said was getting to her. Of course. She had no choice.

He leaned closer to her over the table, dropped his voice. “You’re getting turned on, aren’t you? If I run my hands between your thighs I’ll find you dripping wet like a bitch in heat, won’t I? If I take these two finger and slide them up your filthy cunt they’ll get sucked in to the last knuckle, won’t they?”

Doug received only a moan in response. Samantha’s eyes were closed.

“Let’s go find a quiet spot where you can show me how much a dirty slut you really are,” Doug said, putting a hand under her elbow and guiding her to stand up. No one was paying them any attention, except for the odd man running his eyes up and down Samantha’s leg, never noticing Doug.

He walked with her outside, turning into a small alley beside the coffee shop. He found a hidden spot behind a dumpster. It was risky, but a lot more risky for her than for him. And he loved the thrill of being in the open.

He pushed her against the wall. “I bet every guy you work with in this office beats off thinking about a hot bitch like you spreading her legs wide for him.” Doug felt her shiver against him, and her breath catch.

He pressed his hands against her breasts, through her blouse. She gasped. He felt her rock-hard nipples through her bra. Her breasts felt good—they were not big, but they filled his palms perfectly.

“Your tits feel nice, bitch. Does your boss paw you like this? I bet he does. I bet he paws you and fucks you whenever he gets the chance. You’re your boss’s little fuck toy, aren’t you, the piece of ass he keeps around the office to dip his dick in before he goes home to his boring wife? Does he ever call you in, ‘Hey Sam, get your tight ass in here I want my morning blow job’ and then tell you to crawl underneath his desk and choke on his dick like the office slut you are deep down inside?”

Samantha was pressing hard against Doug now, a constant low moan deep in her throat, and she brought up her hands to squeeze his over her breasts, kneading them with him. Her lips were parted, the tip of her tongue gently poking out to rest on her lower lip.

“I bet you get wet just thinking about your coworkers ogling you and wanting you, the men wanting to fuck you and dominate you, the women wanting to have you down on your knees with your tongue deep inside their cunt or their asshole while they tell you how filthy and disgusting you are. How do you think your boyfriend would react if he knew about your perverted fantasies, that you crave being a cum dump, a spunk bucket, a jizz sponge?”

A long shiver ran through Samantha’s body, and then she kissed him, deeply, her tongue stabbing her way into his mouth as if seeking to lick his tonsils. She ground her crotch against Doug’s, pressing into his erection and humping it feverishly. Doug’s hands immediately went down to her ass, which felt as perfect as it looked.

“Please...” she whispered when she interrupted the kiss to catch her breath. Her eyes were crazed, and a sheen of sweat was visible on her face. The abuse was driving her arousal through the roof.

“Please what, my sexy little bitch?”

Another shiver, an exhalation. “Please... please take me,” she whispered back. One of her legs had slid between his and was sending delicious feelings up his inner thighs.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty picky when it comes to fucking sluts. What have you got to offer?”

“I’ll... I’ll do anything you want...”

Doug raised his eyebrows, looking straight at her. “Anything? Really? That’s interesting... I mean, even whores have limits, right? But you don’t?”

She moaned in lieu of a response.

Doug laughed, running his fingers over her face and her lips. “What a slut you are... Fine. Show me what you got. Step back, lift up your skirt, and show me the goods.”

She did as she was told, on wobbly knees. She stepped back against the wall. She pulled up her skirt, which took some work because of how tight it fit, and slowly revealed a perfect pair of white thighs before exposing a flimsy thong. With her skirt bunched up around her waist, Samantha stood still, waiting for judgment. Doug figured that the position by itself added to her humiliation.

She was beautiful, her legs long and slim, their line emphasized by her heels. Her hips were narrow, the way Doug liked them. He imagined he could discern her pussy lips through the thin material, and he could definitely see a wet spot in the front.

“Not bad,” Doug said after a long pause, looking her up and down. “Not many guys would kick you out of bed. Drop the panties.” She did. “I like the trim. I’m surprised you didn’t shave it all off. Isn’t that the look for floozies these days, a bare cunt? Touch yourself.”

“What?”

“I said touch yourself, bitch. Run your fingers through that dripping slit and get them wet. Go on.”

She hesitated for only a second, and did as he asked, running her fingers through her pussy lips, the contact making her shiver so hard her knees almost buckled.

“Keep going,” he said. “Frig yourself like a bitch in heat. I like my sluts hot and bothered when I fuck them.” While he had been self-conscious at first, using coarse language and clichéd expressions, now he was fully in character. Samantha ran her hand over her pussy, back and forth, a constant moan accompanying the movement.

“That’s good,” Doug told her. “Now suck on those fingers. Go on. Show me how much you like to have something juicy in your mouth.”

The hesitation was much shorter that time. She brought her fingers to her mouth and slid them inside, sucking on them as if they were little dicks. Doug drank it all in, that beautiful woman, wearing only a white blouse and a pair of high heels, a skirt bunched up around her waist, sucking on her own fingers behind a dumpster in a dirty alley.

“Tasty, ain’t it? Don’t worry, soon you’re gonna have something much more satisfying to suck on. Keep sucking, and turn around. Show me your ass.”

It was a phenomenal ass: perfectly round buttocks, smooth and unblemished, tight, kissing each other right above her pussy peeking out from between her legs.

“Fuck, now that’s a view!” Doug took a step forward. “It should be a crime to keep an ass like that under wraps. The law should say that bitches with an ass like yours should go around wearing only a thong, so that the rest of us can ogle.”

He brushed his hand against her ass, enjoying the silky feel of her skin. Samantha, who was still sucking on her fingers, pushed her ass out toward his hand.

Without any warning, Doug smacked it hard, a harsh slap that drew out a little scream from Samantha and left a red mark on her flesh. “You got an ass made for spanking, babe. And for fucking. How about it?” He slipped his hand between her legs and shoved two fingers into her sopping wet pussy. They sank in without any difficulty.

“Ever had a dick up that prize ass?”

Samantha shook her head.

“No? I don’t believe you. Your boyfriends must have all been pestering you to let them for your ass. So you’re an ass virgin then? I’m surprised no one ever decided to just toss you on the bed and ram their dick in your ass as far as it’d go, making you scream your pretty little bitch face off as they fucked your ass up. Because you see,” and Doug leaned over to whisper in Samantha’s ear, “no one cares when a slut says no.”

He felt her pussy spasm around his fingers at his words. “You like that, the thought of being forced to take a dick up your ass? If I was your boyfriend I’d stick it up your butt whenever I came and let it slip out only when sleeping. And I’d make you lube me up with your mouth before we started and I’d make you clean me up the same way at the end.” Another spasm around his fingers, along with a moan that time.

He slapped her ass hard again. “Turn around.” She did, and he slipped the fingers that had been up her pussy into her mouth. She cleaned her own juices off his fingers, and he reveled in the sensation. He pushed her against the wall, and thrust his fingers deeper into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, feeling her gag. He did it again, and again, and at no point did she try to move away.

“That’s how I’m gonna fuck your face, my sexy little bitch. Hard and deep, down your throat. The way you’re going to be sucking every guy that asks pretty soon.” He pulled his fingers out, wiping off the strings of drool connecting them to her lips onto her blouse. “Get down on your knees, sexy bitch, and blow me. And make it good.”

“Please... please fuck me...” she mumbled.

“If you do a good job, I may fuck you, and make you come. Now get to it, sweet cheeks. Make those dick-sucking lips useful.”

Slowly Samantha sank down to her knees before Doug, as he unzipped his pants and took out his dick. She wrapped a hand around it, jerking up and down several times before she ran her tongue over the tip and slid it into her mouth. Doug let her do all the work, basking in the sensations. Soon she was bobbing up and down, her lips pressing against his shaft, her tongue dancing on the underside. She was good—not as good as Rebecca, but good—and he could have easily come from her ministrations. But that was not the whole point. He wanted to see how well she took to what he had said.

He pulled his dick out of her mouth, and slapped the side of her face with it. “Jesus Christ! You call that a blow job?” He slapped his dicks on the other side of her face. “That’s pathetic! You’re pathetic!” Another slap. Samantha looked shocked. “You’re a good-looking bitch with a great ass, but you can’t suck for shit.” Samantha sneaked a hand between her legs and started touching herself. “I want a porn blow job, you got that? You know what a porn blow job is, right? Messy, sloppy, lots of drool. I want to hear you gag on my dick, I want to see you choke trying to swallow it, I want to feel your lips on my stomach when it’s all inside. And I want you to look at me the whole time, grateful that I’m fucking your face the way every guy wants to do it to a two-bit whore like you. Get to it!”

She took his dick in her mouth once more, and redoubled her efforts, thrusting her head forward over and over again, taking him in deeper than she had before, letting her saliva pool in her hand and drip down her arm and onto her blouse. Her eyes never left his, and he could see in them lust threaten to overtake everything. She gagged hard the first time he shoved my hips forward to sink his dick deeper. He put a hand on her head to prevent her from pulling back.

“Fuck yeah! Like that, you little bitch, right there! Fuck that feels good!” The tip of his dick must have been right at the entrance of her throat, and she was choking, and her attempts to breathe put some delightful pressure on his sensitive glans. “Look at me, bitch, look at me! There. You look good on your knees like that with my dick down your throat. What if your boyfriend could see you now, right? I’m sure he’d be envious that I get to do this to his pretty hot-ass girlfriend...”

He pulled her head back by the hair, let her take a few lungfuls of air, and pushed her head back down as fucked her mouth. “Fuck yeah, take it all, you bitch! Down your throat, like a good slut! That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Some eye candy that kneels before a man and takes his dick into her cunt mouth and lets him fuck it to his heart’s content? You like getting your throat fucked?”

She was rubbing herself off like a madwoman, while his dick rammed in and out of her mouth like a piston, obscene sounds coming out of her throat, saliva pouring down her chin.

“You’re gonna come while I use your mouth like a cunt, aren’t you? Fuck you are a slut, a dirty filthy depraved perverted hot piece of ass that gets off on being used like a hole. You gonna come, slut? You gonna come if I do this?”

He pushed into her mouth hard, and just like that he was all the way down her throat, her lips wrapped against the root of his shaft. Her throat was massaging him. There was a low moan coming from deep inside her. “Come, you sexy bitch! Come while I fuck your face, you little whore!”

Three more times he rammed into her before he felt her stiffen and his dick was deep inside her throat when her orgasm hit her. She seized and shivered all over, her scream muffled by the dick in her throat. The feelings this produces down his dick were enough to set Doug off as well and he exploded, spewing his load inside her as she shivered and trembled and shuddered and swallowed.

She collapsed on the ground of the alley when she was done, her hand still between her legs, her face shiny with sweat and saliva, a spasm jolting her body every few seconds.

Catching his breath, Doug zipped up his pants.

“That was pretty good, Samantha,” he told the recovering girl. “You’ll make a wonderful office slut, I have no doubt. And your manager will get a real kick out of the new you. I hope your boyfriend’s as open minded, and won’t mind sharing his hot-ass girlfriend with anyone driven to compliment her on her assets.”

Doug doubted that Kevin would remain her boyfriend for long. After all, once he learned that she put out at work and fucked the most vulgar and despicable men that hit on her and that she would keep on doing it even after being confronted by the fact, who would? It would be clear to Kevin that Samantha was not girlfriend material, let alone wife. Better to learn it now than later. Better to learn it now than when he was on the ground bleeding his life away.

Doug’s work was done.



*



Daniel and Cindy entered the Bank of America branch and asked to speak with the manager. Daniel flashed his credentials, and the clerk called in the manager. Cindy stayed back, scanning over the brochures that were sprinkled on the table for customers to pick up while they waited.

The manager, a middle-aged man slightly too large for the suit he wore, looked at them with worry, while at the same time trying his best not to stare at Cindy’s legs which were fully on display. He focused his attention squarely on Daniel. “How may I help you, Agent Malcolm?”

“I have a few questions for one of your employees. Samantha Royston.”

The man turned pale. “M…miss Royston? How—what… what about?”

“I’m afraid that’s between Miss Royston and me. May I speak with her?”

“I—She is not with us any longer, I’m afraid.”

“Oh? She quit?”

“More like she was let go. There were… some lapses in judgment on Miss Royston’s part that made it impossible for this branch to maintain her in her position.”

“Lapses in judgment?”

“I’d rather not go into the details. If you want more information, you will have to talk to Miss Royston herself, or to Corporate, I’m afraid.”

Daniel studied him, trying to decide how much to push the man. He seemed to have clammed up, now that some color had returned to his cheeks.

“Well, if that is all, Agent Malcolm. Good day.” He gave the high hem of Cindy’s skirt a last lingering gaze before disappearing in the recesses of the bank.

“So what do you think?” Daniel asked.

“He’s a creep.”

“Obviously. Beside that?”

“He was nervous, and he thought he was in trouble. Until it was clear that we didn’t know Samantha was no longer working here and what she had done to get fired.”

“Agreed.”

“That’s super intriguing! What next?”

“Next?” Daniel turned to the door. “We head out and wait.”

“What? Wait?” Cindy skipped after him as they left the bank.

“You’ll see.”

They sat on the bench at the end of the block. Around them, Los Angeles was going about its business, paying little attention to the details of the life of its inhabitants.

Cindy looked around curiously, waiting for something to happen. Five minutes after they had sat down, one of the bank tellers approached the bench. Daniel stood.

“I don’t have much time,” the teller said, looking behind her at the door of the bank. “I’m on break. I said I was going out to grab a latte.”

“Come on,” Daniel said. “Let’s walk. Cin, keep an eye out.”

“You were talking to the manager, right now. I heard you asking about Sam.”

“You knew Samantha?”

“Oh yes, we’re good friends. Well, were good friends. We used to get lunch together every day at that little shop over there.” She pointed to a sandwich shop on the other side of the street.

“Were? Something happened?”

“I guess. I mean, one day, several months ago, she shows up and she’s wearing this short skirt and tight vest and she’s flirting like it’s nobody’s business.”

“And she wasn’t like that before?”

“No! She’s always been sweet and reserved and while she enjoyed getting a drink after work once in a while, she just wasn’t like that. And beside, she was engaged, and she really really loved her fiancé.”

“What was the fiancé’s name?”

“Kevin something or other. Unremarkable last name.”

“What happened after that day?”

“It got worse and worse. She started flirting outrageously with every man she ran into, co-workers, customers, anybody. And she wasn’t particularly subtle about it, or careful. Rumors started running around that she was sleeping with the manager, and with the salesmen, and even some of the analysts, and that there were orgies and all sort of disgusting things going on. It was hard to believe it, but…” She stopped, did not know how to continue. “But then I saw pictures, and it was right there, in front of my eyes.”

Daniel did not press her. More needed to come out, and it did. There were things she had to say, and she had had no one to tell them to.

“One day Kevin showed up, he seemed pissed. And I think he confronted her, right in her office. When he left he was even angrier, and Sam ran after him and she offered to blow a guy in front him, that he’d like to see her slut it up as she said, that it would make him hot, and he just made this face that said everything and he left. Samantha looked shocked for a moment, but then started chatting up a male customer.” The teller made a face herself. “I saw them head to the bathrooms together after a few minutes. It was pretty clear to everyone what was going on. You should have heard the snickers in the lobby. It was embarrassing.”

“She was fired after that?”

“Not right away, no. Are you kidding me? It was a sweet deal for that pig of a manager, and his minions. They had Sam under their thumb, that was pretty clear. I tried talking to her, but she had changed. She was trying to flirt with me, and she kept bringing the discussion back to sex. I guess eventually someone complained to Corporate, and they sent someone from HR down to the branch and before the day was over Sam was escorted out. The manager was pissed for the rest of the week, you can believe me.”

“I see. Thank you, Miss…”

“I’m Katie.”

“Thank you Katie. And you said that there were no indications that Samantha would ever do something like that?”

“Nothing! It’s like one day to the next, she was someone else. Still Sam, but someone else. I can’t explain it.”

“Could you confirm the data when this happened?”

Katie pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped it a few times. She confirmed the late September date when she first noticed Samantha changing. “It was the night after the season premiere of Kittens’ Den,” she explained.

“The day before, did anything out of the ordinary occur? Anyone weird show up at the bank, anything that caused a commotion?”

“No, nothing. Usually day at the bank, really. Had our lunch as usual, I’m guessing… We have lunch, then she stops by for a coffee before returning to the bank—I have my latte mid-afternoon, when my slump hits. So it was just a day like any other.” She paused for a second, trying to remember. “She was fine over lunch—I’d remember it if not.” She looked pensive for a second, then shook herself when she realized they were in front of a coffee shop. “Okay, I should go back, before they wonder what the heck I’m doing. I’m grabbing my latte here.”

Daniel handed her a card. “If you remember anything, Katie, please give me a call. Even if it doesn’t sound like it helps, you never know what can give us a clue as to what happened to Samantha.”

“Something did happen to her, didn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Daniel said, noncommittally.

Kate ducked into the coffee shop, in disarray, leaving Daniel and Cindy alone on the side walk.

“You do that very well,” Cindy said, looking at Daniel with a tilt to her head.

“Do what?”

“This. Being all professional. It’s pretty hot, actually.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Let’s go,” he said. “That Samantha sound a lot more promising than Vickie.”



*



Finding out the current whereabout of Samantha Royston turned out to be easy. A quick call to Brisecoeur—which Cindy vocally insisted take place on speakerphone because she wanted to hear the Belgian’s voice—and the team technician told them Samantha Royston’s current place of employment.

“Zappa Sports Club?” Cindy said once Brisecoeur had hung up. “That’s a shift from loan officer.”

Daniel was entering the address in the car’s GPS. He nodded. “And her third job since she left the bank.”

The sports club was not far, and despite the Los Angeles traffic it did not take them long to reach their destination. “Bit of a dump,” Cindy said.

Daniel had to agree. The general area was sitting at the edge of an industrialized zone. They were surrounded by buildings that may have once been warehouses, but that had not yet been turned into upscale condominiums.

“Looks like it used to be a boxing gym or something,” Daniel said.

“And then what, they decided to go upscale?”

There were quite a few cars in the parking lot, suggesting that the place might have been more popular than either of them might have guessed.

Inside, there was a reception area. An attempt had been made at decorating, but it was difficult to completely hide the underlying industrial concrete-themed look of the floor and the supporting columns. The high ceilings heightened the feeling of coldness.

A bored-looking receptionist was standing behind the counter, tapping on her phone. Blonde, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she wore what looked like a sports bra. She was clearly supposed to represent what one might look like were they to work out at this gym, but she also looked like she wanted to be elsewhere.

“Excuse me,” Daniel said, trying to catch her attention.

It took two attempts before she looked up from her small screen, and she looked almost surprised to see them.

“Can I help you?”

“I hope so. We’re looking for Samantha Royston.” Daniel flashed his credentials, but the girl did not even look at them. She made a face that was difficult to read.

“Sorry. She’s not available right now.”

“But she’s here?”

The girl nodded, after an hesitation and the same frown she would make upon stepping into something disgusting.

“Will she be long?” Daniel asked again.

“Probably not,” the girl said. She did not look Daniel or Cindy in the eyes.

“We’ll wait then.”

The girl shrugged, and went back to her phone. Daniel and Cindy sat on a bench on the other side of the reception area, between two large potted plants there were clearly artificial. For once, Cindy did not talk, merely leaned her head against Daniel’s shoulder and rested there. It felt nice, Daniel had to admit.

Two large overly muscled men entered the gym, essentially grunting at the girl behind the counter, and on the way giving a thorough look at Cindy, who sat with her legs crossed baring her usual impressive amount of skin. One of the men gave her a big grin, his eyes running up and down her legs and never reaching her eyes, while the other whistled and told her she was “a hot bitch!”

Daniel felt his blood burn and he might even have stood up to launch himself at the two men had Cindy not grabbed his thigh and squeezed.

“Hey, what’s with you?” she asked.

“Those guys…” He could not complete his thought. Anger was burning through him like fire through dry straw, threatening to set everything ablaze.

“… were just being guys. Dan, guys look at me. Guys want to fuck me. He’s right, I’m a hot bitch.” She was smiling such a naughty grin that Daniel could not help but chuckle himself. He remained tense, though.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just…”

Cindy waiting for him to finish. He did not. She finished for him. “This time it hit close to home.”

“Huh?”

“Those guys? Biff?”

Daniel looked at her. He had not even realized, but of course, she was right. Biff had been cut from the same cloth as those two men that had just walked by: big, tough looking, and giving the definite impression of being all brawn no brain.

And Biff was still a hot button issue with Daniel. Biff was the reason Daniel was here, looking for his fiancée, miserable, alone, angry.

“He’s gone, Dan.” Cindy’s hand on his thigh had never left, and was now gently caressing upward. “Biff’s gone. You saw to that.”

He had. He had knocked Biff out and had left him to burn in a tunnel underneath the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity. He had killed Biff. Sometimes, he was bothered by that. Other times, it was the one thing that gave him a bit of a smile.

“It’s tough,” he said. After a long pause, “I miss her.”

Cindy reached over and hugged him tight, a surprisingly comforting gesture. “We’ll find her, you’ll see.”

Daniel took a deep breath and stayed with it for a moment, refusing to think of the past or the future. Be in the here and now, Jenn would always tell him. Be here with me, he wanted to tell her back.

He looked at Cindy, who was looking at him with her face wide open, ready for whatever he had to give. She wanted to find Jenn almost as much as he did, and he did not understand why. She had to know that their relationship, whatever it was, could not continue if Jenn returned. And yet she kept at it. Daniel, not for the first time, reflected that he did not understand his friend.

“How can that not bother you?” he asked her.

“What?”

“Those guys. Biff.” Cindy had been with Biff back at Darnell University, when she was a pet for the fraternity, when the fraternity brothers—Biff included—used her as a sex toy.

“They’re guys. What can you expect? Frankly, they’re inoffensive.”

“Biff wasn’t.”

Cindy thought about it, then looked pained for a second. “Until Jenn he was.”

“You liked him.”

“No.” She shook her head. “But I liked what he did to me. What they did to me. What can I say? I’m fucked in the head.” She smiled when she said that, and he could not tell if the smile was sad or not.

Before he could pursue the topic, a door opened in the back of the reception counter, and Daniel recognized Samantha Royston from images Brisecoeur had sent him earlier. “There she is,” he said.

“Wow,” was Cindy’s only retort.

Samantha Royston was young, and beautiful. Not very tall—still taller than Cindy—her body was toned and she sported curves to give anyone envy. That she wore a tight crop top and an almost indecently short tennis skirt only emphasized her arresting body. The tall black high heels clashed with the sporty look, but did wonders for her legs. She was busy wiping her mouth, and then pulling her pale brown hair up into a pony tail.

Daniel heard the “fucking slut” that the girl behind the reception desk muttered under her breath, and Samantha must have heard it as well, and she stiffened slightly. But Daniel also noticed that her nipples suddenly sprouted from underneath the crop top.

“Miss Royston?”

Samantha turned to Daniel, and she smiled. Daniel saw her tilt her body slightly toward him and push out her chest. Her nipples were pointing straight at him, clearly visible. “Hey there gorgeous,” she said. “What can I do for you?” She made it sound suggestive.

“I’m Agent Daniel Malcolm—I’m with ADSec, and we’re investigating some strange happenings in the area. I’d love to ask you some questions.”

“I’d love to have you question me. Or do anything else you want to me, really.” She had taken a step toward him, and she was close enough that Daniel could smell her scent, a mixture of perfume and sweat.

“Let’s go somewhere more… private,” she said, and winked at him.

“Please,” Daniel nodded. He exchanged a glance with Cindy, who had been watching Samantha with a smile of her own. Cindy mouthed a “Wow!”

“Bring your friend,” Samantha told him as she start. “I like girls too, and she’s a dish.” She licked her lips. Cindy let out a giggle.

“Oh Brandi,” Samantha said over her shoulder to the girl at the reception. “Thor wanted to talk to you about our hours next week.”

Brandi muttered something under her breath, and then headed to the door where Samantha had emerged.

“Thor’s the owner. A great boss. Big and hard all over,” she said with a grin.

Cindy, who had jumped in step beside them, pointed out to Samantha’s top. “Huh, you got something there.”

Samantha looked down. “Oh.” She scooped up a sticky fluid with the tip of her finger from a spot above her left breast. “I’m such a messy eater.” She licked and sucked her finger, looking at Daniel the whole time. It would have been funny if not for Samantha pulling it off perfectly.

Cindy chuckled again. “You’re wonderful!”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Samantha said, looking the petite young woman up and down suggestively. “Love the skirt. And what it covers.”

Before Cindy could respond, Daniel intervened. “Samantha, I’d like to ask you about your previous job at the bank.”

“The bank? That was a while back. It was okay, I guess. I mean, the guys are so much better here. No comparison. It’s a meat market.” Which clearly was a good thing as far as she was concerned.

“Do you remember anything that happened on September 25th?”

“September 25th? Nothing. Why?”

“Anything odd happened that day, or the days leading up to it?”

“Odd stuff happens all the time. Like you showing up at a gym and getting a kick ass blow job from the best cock sucker in town.”

“Pardon me?”

“That’s what Thor says, anyway. He’s such a sweetie! It’s why he makes me all wet. Wanna feel?”

Taking a step toward Daniel again, she thrust her chest out again. She grabbed his hand and she probably would have brought it down to her tennis skirt had he not gently pulled it away. “Miss Royston…”

Cindy interrupted him. “Samantha,” she asked. “do you remember when it was you realized that you really wanted to satisfy your colleagues?”

“Oh yes,” Samantha added, turning to Cindy. “I was grabbing my coffee after lunch and it just hit me: my job, my real job, is to make my colleagues and customers happy.”

“Were you talking to anyone when you came to that realization?” Daniel asked.

Samantha was torn between staring at Cindy and staring at Daniel. Her breathing was getting faster. Her nipples were hard rocks under her top. “Nope. It was just a flash of insight.” She turned to Cindy, staring at her chest. “Girl, your tits are fine! I bet you have big nipples that are super fun to nibble on!”

“Thank you. Bet yours are nice too.”

“Wanna see them?”

“Cin!” Daniel’s interjection jerked Cindy out of her mood.

“Sorry,” she said, taking a step back.

“Thank you, Miss Royston,” Daniel said. “You’ve been very helpful. Do you think I could have your contact information in case we need to ask you more questions?”

“Are you trying to get my phone number?”

“For the investigation.”

“Sure.” She flashed him a smile, and gave him her phone number. “Call me anytime. For anything. And I mean anytime, for anything.”

“Thank you.” He nodded toward Cindy, who waved to the sexy blonde and followed Daniel out of the building. Samantha, meanwhile, went in search of a man or a woman she could use her undeniable skills to satisfy.

“Wow,” Cindy said when they were back to the car.

“Yeah,” Daniel nodded. “Just a guess, but I’m pretty sure she’s been affected.”

“No, I mean, wow, forget about Vickie, that one was hot. I’m so fucking horny now.”

Daniel looked over at Cindy, who had the good grace of looking at least partly apologetic. Then he rolled his eyes.

“Well, we might have a starting point, after all,” he said, thinking over what Samantha Royston had said. They had a probable date, and a probable location.