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I usher her out, closing the door before leaning back against it. “That could have gone better,” I say out loud.
I call Toby. “Brody was here,” I tell him.
“What did he want?”
“Just to taunt me, it seems. Said Melanie called him and told him I kicked the shit out of her.”
“We’re going to have to do something about him.”
“I can’t kill a detective. The heat it would bring on the family would make it impossible to do business.”
“Discredit him then?”
“Bring me something I can use.”
“Will see what I can dig up. How did it go with Bex?”
“She said no, again.”
“You still think this is a good idea?”
“Just get the contract drawn up. I’ll do the thinking for us both.”
I hang up, returning to the desk and lighting up a cigar.
Why does it even have to be Bex?
I don’t want to admit it, but I don’t want anyone else. It’s not love, nothing that dumb. But it is something. I’m guessing it’s the fact that she’s fighting me. When was the last time a woman fought me? They all fawned all over me and submitted so quickly. It gets boring fast.
There’s some fight in Bex, despite her age. Got something in common with me as well. Both got dead mothers. Both mothers were killed by their husbands. Gives us something to talk about after we fuck, right? Nice bit of small talk.
I’ll let her go for now, but I’ve already decided. She’ll either sign the contract and come to my house willingly, or I’ll kidnap her off the street and drag her there. Either way, she might not know it yet, but she’s already mine.
14
Bex
* * *
I toss the chopped carrots into the pan, stepping back as steam rises into the air.
“Smells good.”
I spin around, and Ursula is there, her arms filled with grocery bags.
“Let me guess,” she continues. “Using up everything we had left?”
“You never said you were going shopping. I didn’t want to sit here and starve to death.”
“Oh, my poor Bex. Having to survive on her famous everything stew.”
“It hasn’t got everything in it.”
“No?”
“I think there’s a yogurt left in the refrigerator.”
“Don’t use that. I’m growing him. He’s called Adrian. I reckon he’ll be ready to clean for us in another few weeks.” She dumps the bags on the table, shrugging off her raincoat before digging in and pulling out a bottle of wine like it’s Excalibur being pulled from the stone. “Ta-dah!”
