Tempting Danger Read Free

left ear, either a diamond or a good imitation. “Looks like Carlos Fuentes.”
    “Carlos?” That came from the other woman, a chubby Caucasian with dyed black hair twisted into dozens of braids. She crowded closer and peered at the license in Lily’s hand. “Oh, God. It’s him. Poor Carlos.”
    “You know Carlos Fuentes, ma’am?” Lily asked.
    “We all do. That is . . . he hangs out at the club sometimes.” She exchanged an uneasy look with the other woman.
    “Oh, for God’s sake,” the thin man said. “It’s not like it’s a secret. They’re going to find out anyway.”
    “You know what you are, Theo?” the chubby woman said. “Jealous. You’re just jealous as hell.”
    “Me, jealous? You’re the one who—”
    “I can’t believe you’d rat him out!” Stacy cried. “You know what kind of deal he’ll get from the cops!”
    The chubby woman nodded. “They’ve always persecuted the lupi. Centuries of—”
    “. . . in a lather . . . everything but dope Rachel’s drink to give you a shot at him.”
    “Police brutality isn’t a myth, you know. Just last year in New Hampshire—”
    “. . . rubbing all over him last Tuesday. Too, too obvious . . .”
    “Used to shoot them on sight, so if you think any lupi would get a fair hearing—”
    “But he didn’t want any part of what you were offering, did he?”
    “You just wish he swung your way!”
    “Who’s he? ” Lily asked mildly.
    They fell silent, exchanging guilty glances.
    One of the men—Franklin Booth, medium build, shaved head, leather vest the color of his skin worn over a black shirt and jeans with silvery studs up the seams—tossed aside the cigarette he’d been smoking. “Poor Rachel.”
    Lily turned to him. “Rachel?”
    “Carlos’s wife.” He sighed. “She’s at the club now with—”
    “Franklin!” the chubby one exclaimed.
    “Sugar, it’s no good,” he said gently. “Theo is right. They’re going to find out. And maybe he’s alibied. I mean, we all saw him there, didn’t we?”
    There was a relieved murmur, with Stacy asserting loudly that “he” had been there for hours. Lily spoke to Booth again. “Rachel Fuentes is at Club Hell now?”
    “She was when we left.”
    “Who was she with?”
    The thin man laughed. “Why, who else would put the ladies in such a flutter? Some of us gentlemen, too, I’ll admit,” he added with a little bow to the chubby woman, conceding her point. “For all the good it does us. Lupi are religiously hetero.”
    “I could use a name.”
    “Rule Turner, of course. The prince graces the club with his presence now and then.” He smirked. “Recently he’s been gracing Rachel with a good deal more.”

    LILY had orders to call Captain Randall once she’d finished the preliminaries. She did this on her way to Club Hell.
    The click-click from her heels on the sidewalk made her feel isolated, though she could hear the bustle at the crime scene behind her. She blamed the feeling on the odd mist, so unlike San Diego. It hung in the air like a cold sweat. She was glad she didn’t wear glasses. She just wished she wasn’t wearing heels. They’d be hell to run in.
    Of course, she was supposed to have been off duty tonight. She punched in the captain’s number.
    She couldn’t remember the last confirmed case of a human killed by a lupus. Certainly there hadn’t been one in San Diego since the Supreme Court’s ruling rendered the lupi subject to the penalties and protections of the law instead of a bullet. It didn’t take a precog to picture tomorrow’s headlines. This one was going to generate a lot of heat.
    Lily’s years in Vice and Homicide prior to making detective had rubbed the green off, but her shield was still shiny. She figured she could be philosophical about handing this one off to one of the senior detectives . . . after she conducted the initial interviews at Club Hell.
    Randall was waiting for her call. It didn’t take long to summarize her progress.