Sin on the Strip Read Free Page A

the paper coffee cup, one she almost dropped when she got her first good look at the man.
    At the coroner’s office, the sun had all but blinded her. She’d seen the tall silhouette of an athletic man. Her fried, overloaded brain hadn’t registered how attractive he really was. His expensive suit and the way it draped his leanly muscled body said he worked out. But the surfer-boy tan and an unshaven face contradicted the straight-laced façade. Wavy hair the color of melted chocolate tapered down his neck and over the collar of a white shirt. Most of the men she’d hired in the club had had their noses broken at one time or another. She liked that. It made them look tougher, meaner, better to toss someone out for not following her rules. But this guy’s was straight, fitting perfectly with his knee-knocking, dark brown eyes. That, however, didn’t make him look any less dangerous. There was an edge to him, like looking at a shiny, new butcher’s knife, knowing if you didn’t handle it right, it would slice you.
    If this were a bar, her girlfriends would be vying for a piece of him, betting on who got to kiss those Brad Pitt lips first. But this wasn’t a bar. Hotness aside, his don’t-screw-with-me expression, played up by frowning dark eyebrows, screamed trouble. Maggie tried not to squirm under the narrow-eyed intensity of his gaze.
    â€œSit, Mr. Beck.” Horace motioned to a chair on the left of Maggie, placing the coffee he’d sprung for on the small table between them.
    As Mr. Beck set the manila envelope he’d been holding on the table, she got a whiff of something sweet. Chocolate? She sniffed to be sure, but the scent had faded. Maggie tipped her head in his direction. He returned her perusal, making her cross her legs to avoid fidgeting.
    Okay, if, and that was an if she wasn’t a hundred percent willing to part with, but if he wasn’t out to ruin her father, what did he want? “So, how are you involved in this case?” Having had some time to think about it, she added, “Who hired a private investigator? Heather was killed last night, and she didn’t have family.” None who’d want to find her.
    The two men regarded each other as if they knew something she didn’t and were reluctant to let her in on the secret. She didn’t like it.
    â€œMs. Anderson, I work for a company called ICU—”
    â€œYes, I know.”
    â€œPatience, Ms. Anderson.” He reached for the envelope, pulled out a newspaper clipping and handed it to her.
    Not appreciating his tone, she snatched the article out of his hand and read. The police didn’t have many clues and were asking for assistance in the strangulation of a twenty-year-old woman found nude in the bathroom of a motel. They suspected prostitution, but couldn’t confirm it. Not much else was written.
    She hadn’t caught this piece in the paper. Reading these kinds of stories grew increasingly more disturbing. Still, it wasn’t like her to have missed it. As hard as it was to swallow, if a girl was killed on the streets, Maggie wanted to know the circumstances. Knowledge was power, power the women could take back. She also kept her eyes and ears open for reports about missing runaways or news such as this. Then she reread the article, noticing it was dated six weeks ago from a Sacramento newspaper.
    Deep furrows etched Horace’s forehead, his lips drawn in a tight line. It didn’t take long to make the connection. “This case and Heather’s. . . they’re related?”
    Horace shrugged. “The department, the FBI, and Mr. Beck here all believe so.”
    It appeared drugs, abuse, and desperation weren’t enough hurdles for these girls. A murderer had to be added to the bullshit life dealt them?
    Two girls, one murderer?

Chapter Two
    â€œM aggie, you okay?” Lieutenant Cooper touched her arm. Christian watched them carefully. Just