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Prologue
“Please. This is not why I took this job. I’m not interested in this. Please.” Undercover Nevada State Police Detective, Marlee Davidson stated as she tried to undo the bindings on her wrists. In a flash, the tables had turned on her. There was no one around to call to for help. No one knew she was out at this hour. The lead she’d thought she had was a setup. That conniving little bitch, Tara, was part of this.
“Oh, you are interested. I can tell, and so can the others.”
He caressed her hair. When he’d first approached she’d had to do a double take. Then, of course, came the realization that he may know who she was. But he didn’t lead onto that. He toyed with her. She realized that this man was in fact a killer. She was shocked.
And she knew he was the killer because Tara had led her here. Marlee had thought that she was catching a break in the case. She’d figured out that whenever the McCues had a private party in the small back room of the casino, deals were going down. Men were placing their orders, but some big shots were fulfillling their fantasies.
She tried again unsuccessfully to pull her wrists from the bindings. It was no use. The fucker had gotten her. After years of training, working undercover, and finally proving to her commanders that she was capable of a mission like this, she’d fucked up.
The smack to the side of her head came out of nowhere, breaking her line of thought.
She gasped, and then sidestepped and tried to use her legs to defend herself.
“I thought you were special. When I saw you here, the new girl, the long red hair and pretty little figure, I knew I would have you. I planned this all out, ya know. The
dim lights, the loud music. Now it’s time to play the game. You’re going to do exactly as I say. You’re smart. I know you know how to improvise,” he stated, and the expression on his face, and in his tone of voice, alerted her gut instincts immediately. Was her cover fully blown? Did he know she was working undercover. Oh, fuck. What am I going to do?
“No, I’m not going to do exactly what you say. I didn’t sign up for this. It’s not part of the job requirement working at the casino. Where’s McCue? He won’t let you do this,” she said and he struck her again.
He grabbed her by the throat and stared into her face. She saw the evil, the hatred in his eyes, and knew she was going to die.
“You wanted to catch the men who are responsible for the missing women? It was your choice to come here. Now you’re part of the show.”
He ran his finger down the side of her cheek to her lips, as he held her neck with his other hand. She was pressed against the table, as the music got louder and the sounds of the drums and the bass made her entire body pulse.
Something changed in his eyes as he stared at her. Something evil, dark now attacked her senses. He quickly twisted her around and then stepped back.
“Dance for me, slut. Make up for me finding you here, in this club. I know you were going to cheat on me.”
She was confused. She didn’t understand what the hell he was saying. One second it sounded as if he knew she was working undercover, a cop on the case of the missing women, and the next, he was telling her to dance for him and make up for cheating on him. She was confused.
He slammed his fist down on top of her shoulder like a sledgehammer. She screamed, as she fell to her knees.
“That’s right. This is where you belong.” He shoved his palm against her forehead. The back of her head hit the lip of the table from the booth behind her.
He started to unzip his pants.
“No. No!” she screamed as she tried to stand up, despite the pain in her shoulder and the hinderance of the bindings on her wrists.
He struck her again.
She screamed.
