swallowing a few times, she said, “Drew owned a cabin in the Adirondacks. We did an inquiry…” Her voice trailed off.
“Talk, Annabel,” Galen said, taking the paperwork from her.
Vance’s cell rang, and he answered automatically. “Buchanan.”
“Aren’t you official?” Sally’s vibrant voice was clean and bright and beautiful, a complete contrast to the atmosphere in the office. “Where are you anyway? Kari and I are waiting for our law-enforcement boys.”
As Galen opened the folder, several photographs spilled onto the desk. A woman’s body. Her legs and torso were charred black, her face so battered that she was unrecognizable. A begrimed metal collar was around her neck.
Annabel was telling Galen, “…arrived too late to save her. She was already dead. If only…”
“Vance, what’s wrong. Who’s dead?” asked Sally.
He couldn’t look away from the pictures. His stomach clenched as he moved the top photograph and saw another. Whip marks striped the back of the body.
A hand appeared in Vance’s field of vision, setting down a folder over the photos. Covering them. Freeing him. He looked up.
Galen’s gaze met his. “Where is Sally?” His voice was strained but controlled.
“The club. With Kari.”
“Tell her to stay there. Dan can take her to his house.”
“Vance, I can hear him,” Sally said on the cell. “What’s wrong? Did I do something—”
“You heard Galen,” Vance said. His skin felt cold. Two cops were dead. Somerfeld was out for revenge, and Galen would be next on the list.
What the bastard had done to that woman… Sally needed to stay far, far away from them. Vance’s voice was harsh as he said, “Stay with Kari. We’ll send your things to you there.”
WAS VANCE TALKING to her? Seriously? After staring at her cell phone, Sally put it back to her ear. “Send my things? But why? Who’s dead?”
“Two police officers are dead—because of us.” Vance took an audible breath. “And a woman.”
“Go and stay with Kari. I don’t want you to return to the house, is that clear?”
She froze, her mouth dropping open. “But you…you—”
Because she’d caused those deaths. If she hadn’t kept Galen and Vance up all night, hadn’t begged for attention, hadn’t made them late for work, maybe they’d have been in time to save the officers and the woman.
And Vance was disgusted with her; she could hear it in the lifelessness of his voice, the coldness. Vance wasn’t cold. Not to her.
On the phone, she heard, “Buchanan, you need to—”
“Just a minute,” Vance snapped. “Sally, did you hear me?” Someone in Vance’s office was trying to get his attention. And she was interfering with his work again.
“I heard,” she whispered. “Take care of…” She didn’t have the right to say that to him. Didn’t have any rights at all. “Bye.”
She set the cell down beside her. Carefully. As if the phone would break if she handled it roughly.
Staring at the blank display, she curled into a ball in the leather chair. The leather skirt rucked up on her thighs. Making her look like a slut. And that leopard-printed top she’d put on earlier was stupid, not alluring at all.
She slowly pulled the cat ears’ headband from her hair. She’d wanted to talk the men into playing hunters against the wild cat woman. Her eyes closed as humiliation made her stomach sink.
Always playing games. No wonder the Feds wanted her gone. Her childish whining for attention had meant they hadn’t been there to prevent someone’s death. Self-loathing lapped at the edges of her confidence, and pieces of her crumbled off, falling into the blackness. Disappearing forever.
She looked up to see Kari returning from the bathroom, her phone to her ear. As she reached Sally, she said, “Okay. Love you,” and stuffed the cell into her pocket. “Dan says you’re our new roommate.”
“I heard.”
Kari sat down beside her. “Are you all right?”
“Oh sure.”
“Hardly. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She forced a smile. “Nothing. Really. But I could use a drink.” Sally started to rise, glanced at the bar, and stopped.
Master Cullen was behind the bar. His submissive, Andrea, had her hands on her hips, and Cullen threw his head back, obviously roaring with laughter.
“Kari?” Sally bit her lip. “Could you, maybe, get me a drink? Anything is fine. I just want to…sit…for a minute.”
With a frown, Kari patted her arm. “Of course, I can. Stay put, and I’ll be right back.” She headed for the bar, pulling her phone out of her skirt pocket.
A check a little later showed Kari at the bar—and waiting in a line.
Got someone killed.
The Feds didn’t want her anymore. Galen hadn’t even talked to her to say good-bye.
Before she submerged herself in a complete mire of depression, she firmed her lips. She was a good person. Really. She had good friends. Was an honest, hardworking sort. Just couldn’t function in a relationship. Wanted too much.
Near the door, as she halted to let three submissives in full pony attire trot past, she saw Rainie approaching with an empty tray in one hand.
“Hey, Sally. Mistress Anne is seriously furious.” Rainie patted her heavy breasts, looking worried. “She won’t be able to adapt her cock crushers to fit on my tits, will she?”
“Ah. Don’t think so.” Sally took another step toward the door. “Listen, I need—”
“Thank you, God.” Rainie grinned before frowning. “She’s gonna talk with your Doms and let them deal with you. Are you going to be in trouble?”
The unexpected question stabbed into Sally like a pitchfork, leaving bleeding holes in her heart. Galen and Vance wouldn’t be around to
After a blank stare, Rainie snarled, “Those sons of fucking bitches!” She slammed her drink tray down on the closest table, startling the two Doms sitting there. Putting an arm around Sally, she pulled her close. “What did they do, baby? What happened?”
Like magic, Jessica and Gabi appeared in front of her.