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Annoyed, he balled up the cord and tossed it across the room, where it coiled like a snake. His face darkened. Before Animal Control had come to pluck that little serpent from the corpse of Christophe Walters, he had managed to snap a picture. On a herpetologist forum on Reddit, someone had kindly identified it as a baby asp. Very deadly—and very much not native.
Donni grumbled in her sleep and rolled over, causing her breasts to press against his bare arm. His belly immediately tightened with want. She was beautiful clothed, but half-naked, with her hair mussed from fucking, she made him want things he shouldn’t. Things like this, every day. A future with her in it, twinkling like a star as she shone with happiness.
Fuck, he thought, closing his eyes and turning away. But his weight caused her to sink even more firmly against him. Sighing, he gave in and let his hand settle on the curve of her waist, just where it began to flare into her generous backside. The scent of her incense rose from the crushed sheets, making his head spin pleasantly. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.
When he opened his eyes again, Donni was still in his arms, but pallid beams of silver-blue light were slicing through the denuded drapes. The apple of her cheek was resting against his shoulder and her fingers were moving against his torso as she stirred awake, toying idly with his chest hair. He liked that—a lot—until he wondered with a stab of jealousy if she was dreaming she was in bed with somebody else.
Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him expressionlessly before letting her hand slide from his chest. “No,” he said, catching her hand. “You don’t have to stop.”
Those eyes flicked to his face and softened. She pulled away anyway, but then she pressed her lips to his cheek. He watched her slide out of bed, moving around the room as she pulled on her clothes from where they were draped on furniture or dangling from hangers. Those tight little cigarette jeans and her scooped-neck black sweater clung to her curves, and he wondered if it was intentional. If she was dressing up for him.
I fucking hope so, he thought, watching her fasten a choker around her throat. She glanced briefly in his direction before slipping out of the room and he felt his mouth curve into a small smile. He could still feel the dry burn of her mouth against his cheek.I could get used to this.
Figuring he’d given her enough time to run, Rafe got out of bed. He found his pants and boxers but his shirt was still in the car. He went to the guest room to get a T-shirt, working it over his head as he walked down the familiar hall where no photographs of him hung.
Donni was in the kitchen, eating kids’ cereal out of a bowl. He had to work to keep his face serious when he realized it was Count Chocula.
“I need to run some errands today,” she said.
“Can I come?”
“If you want.”
“I want.” His eyes caught on something glinting on the floor. He bent to scoop the objects up in a sweep, examining the snapped bracelets. “What happened to these?”
“I must have stepped on them.” She took another bite. “Last night.”
Rafe set the broken bracelets on the kitchen island. There was an envelope sitting there, propped up against the salt and pepper shakers. “What about this?”
“I don’t know. I thought you left it.” She glanced at him. “Didn’t you?”
“Call the police,” he said.
She dropped the spoon and went to go get her phone. While she was in the other room, he tore off a piece of paper towel to pick up the envelope.WATCH MEwas written on the front in red ink. It had some heft to it, too. Wary now, he tipped the envelope on its side.
A flashdrive clattered out onto the counter.
???????
The police looked as tired as Donni felt when they came. Rather than feeling pity, Donni found herself hoping that they were sleeping at their desks, worn down from stress. As far as she was concerned, they could grind themselves down to dust in the carpets beneath their desks.
“Watch me,” Officer Lambert said, with a frown. “Any idea what that means?”
Rafe shook his head minutely. “No,” said Donni. “I already know someone’s watching me, though. Maybe they just felt like rubbing it in.”
“Any leads yet?” Rafe asked, arms folded.
“No. But I checked all the doors and windows.” Officer Corcoran rubbed at the corners of her eyes. “Nothing looked forced. So either they have a key, or they were already inside.”
Donni didn’t miss the veiled accusation and glared at the woman.
“Does anyone else have a key besides you?” Officer Lambert asked.
“Just the maid.”
Corcoran rolled her eyes. “What’s the maid’s name?”
“Madge. Uh—Margaret Jenkins is her full name.”
