Driven to Ink

I pressed the needle to his skin.

“It’s none of my business,” I said softly, focusing on my work.

He didn’t say anything.

I didn’t know whether that was a good thing or bad.

Not that it mattered much right now. I went through the motions, the machine’s gentle whirring echoing in my head and blocking out everything else. I was in my zone.

Finally, I sat up and took my foot off the pedal. I gently wiped the last of the ink off the tattoo. What had been a rather boring tattoo before stood out now. I’d added some embellishment to the dagger hilts, gold swirling through the silver, showing off the stark black and white of the skull.

Will Parker stared at it.

“Is it okay?” I asked. The worst thing is when a client hates what I’ve done. It doesn’t happen much, but it’s happened a couple of times. Although admittedly more in the early days of my career.

Will swallowed hard, then looked at me. “It’s fantastic. I had no idea you were so good.”

I swiveled my chair around so I could put the tattoo machine on the shelf. The inks would be thrown away, as would the needles I’d used. Everything was disposable. Much like Will Parker. Those bruises had told me more about him than any sexy smile, and I wasn’t willing to go there.

When I turned back to him, he saw it in my face.

“It was a one-night stand,” he tried.

I shrugged. “Like I said, none of my business. Let me get some stuff for you about how to take care of the tattoo, and I’ll cover it up before you leave so it won’t get all over your shirt.”

He tried a grin on for size. “I never want to cover it up.”

I smiled back, but it wasn’t as enthusiastic. “Thanks for the endorsement. Tell your friends.” I slapped a bandage over it anyway.

I went out to the front desk, where Bitsy and Tim were deep in conversation. When I approached, they both looked up, startled as if I’d interrupted something important.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two had something going on,” I teased.

They exchanged a furtive look, and I frowned.

“Don’t tell me…”

Tim put his hand up. “No, no, Brett, it’s nothing.”

But from the look on Bitsy’s face, I knew it was definitely more than “nothing.” She tried to cover it up by asking, “So how’s it going in there?” and giving me a sly grin.

I shrugged. “The tattoo came out pretty good.”

She frowned. “But what about him?”

I leaned toward her, and Tim leaned in, too, so he could hear.

“He’s into some rough stuff with women,” I whispered.

“He told you that?” Bitsy exclaimed.

“Shh!” I put my finger to my lips. “No, but he’s got bruises on his hand, and he said he’d been with someone and it got rough.”

“Maybe he’s into bondage,” Tim suggested, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You sure you’re not up for that?”

I slapped his arm. “Give me a break. Maybe you are.”

I grabbed a sheet with tattoo-aftercare instructions out of the desk drawer. I waved it in front of Bitsy’s face. “Need to make more copies,” I said, going back to my room and Will Parker.

He didn’t expect me back quite so quickly. When I stepped through the door, his back was to me. He was holding my tattoo machine and fiddling with the power source.

I cleared my throat loudly and went over to him, taking the machine.

“I’d thank you to leave my things alone,” I said, my voice cold as I checked the power source. He’d changed the settings.

“I didn’t know how it worked,” he tried.

“If you’d asked me, I could’ve shown you.” I thrust the paper at him. “Here. This tells you how to take care of it.”

“Should I come back and have you check on it?” He tried that seductive smile on me, but it was a bad move. It put me in a worse mood.

“Do what the instructions tell you. And Bitsy will take your payment out front.”

He stood there a second, as if I was messing with him. “Is your brother still here?” he asked.

“What? Oh, right, yeah.” Maybe he thought I’d sic Tim on him over the bruises. I turned my back on him, and as I fiddled with the power source, putting all the settings back where they belonged, he went out to see Bitsy.

“Psst!”

I turned at the sound to see Joel frowning in my door. He kept glancing out toward the front desk.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“You didn’t just ink that guy, did you?” Joel’s voice was barely above a whisper. I could hear Bitsy and Will talking out front.

I nodded. “Sure. Only a touch-up, though. Nice tattoo. Skull with daggers.”

“He’s been here before.”

“Sure he has. He came by yesterday. He was going on a job interview here at the Venetian.”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Joel said, his voice getting higher with anxiety. He’d stepped inside my room now.

“What’s up, Joel?”

Joel’s eyes were wide.

“He was here with that guy you found dead in your trunk.”

Chapter 37

“What do you mean? He was here with Ray Lucci?”I Wasked. “Bitsy never said anything about him, and she was here, too.”

Joel was shaking his head so hard I thought it would bounce off.

“She wasn’t here when they got here. She came in late. Dentist or something. I don’t know. All I do know is, that guy came in here with Franklin, or Lucci, or whatever his name was. He didn’t stay long, but long enough to poke around in my room while I was getting my inks together.”

I remembered how Will Parker had been messing with my clip cord and then my power source. I had another thought.

“He wasn’t in there alone, was he?” I asked.

Joel’s hand shot to his mouth, covering it, and I knew. Parker had been alone.

“I had to go get some red ink from the storage room. I was out. I wasn’t gone but a few minutes. He was gone when I got back.”

Probably with Joel’s clip cord.

“You didn’t tell the cops about him.”

Joel sighed, his hand dropping down to his side. “I forgot all about him until I saw him now. It was a crazy morning. The phone kept ringing, we actually had a couple of walk-ins, and I had to schedule appointments.” He paused. “Which Bitsy had to reschedule. I never said I was good at that.”

“I didn’t say you were. It just seems like this was pretty important, and you forgot.”

Joel snorted. “It’s this diet. I’m forgetting all sorts of things. It’s like my brain is hardwired for sugar, and without it, I’m a complete mess. I’m so sick of meat.”

I reached over and rubbed his arm in support. “I’m sorry,” I said softly but then jerked my hand away. Joel frowned.

“We need to stop Will Parker,” I said. “Where’s Tim?”

I didn’t wait for an answer. I went down the hall to the staff room, where Tim was leaning back in a chair, his feet up on the table, leafing through a tattoo magazine. He grinned and waved the magazine when I came in.