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  "Hey, Grace, are you all right? I saw Sullivan corner you back there, but I couldn't get to you in time. I didn't know you two knew one another.” District Attorney Johnny Lewis spoke in one quick long sentence, so as not to waste time. He was always in such a rush.

  "We don't,” both Grace and the man said at the same time.

  They laughed, then smiled.

  "The name's Max Mathews.” Max held out his hand to Grace.

  She was in shock. What were the odds of actually bumping into the detective running the case she was working on? The one who had been avoiding her and giving her the runaround?

  A sly smile found its way to her lips, but she waited a moment to reveal her identity.

  "Not the notorious Detective Max Mathews?” Grace laid her hand over her heart pretending she was about to bombard him with compliments and words of honor and praise.

  Max looked at the DA, appearing unsure of what was coming next. “It's Lieutenant and you are..."

  "Detective Grace Martin.” She then crossed her arms in front of her chest, refusing to shake the jerk's hand. She was even angrier at the fact she was attracted to the guy.

  Her words seemed to click with the detective as he rolled his eyes, then broke eye contact.

  "I take it you two are working on the same case?” Johnny tried to break the tension.

  "He wouldn't know because he's been avoiding me. Very unprofessional.” Grace began to ask Max why he hadn't returned any of her calls and suddenly all his answers were sexist.

  "If I knew you had legs like that, I would have called.” He gave her the once-over.

  "If you want to play this game, Lieutenant, then it goes both ways. You don't share your information, then I won't share mine.

  "You have my number,” Grace stated angrily, then turned toward Johnny.

  "Thanks for your concern, Johnny, but I was able to handle Sullivan. Call me if you need anything else with the case.” Grace smiled and walked away.

  * * * *

  "So ... that didn't go too well, did it?” Johnny stifled a laugh at Max's facial expression.

  "I thought detectives were supposed to be so suave with the ladies."

  "Cool it, Johnny, it's no big deal. What's going on?” Max only half paid attention to the conversation, his mind still on Grace Martin.

  When Max finished talking to Johnny, he headed out of the courthouse. His mind immediately went over the encounter with Detective Grace Martin.

  When the gorgeous green-eyed goddess slammed into him, he thought she was a gift from God for all his hard work. A woman like that would be a definite distraction from the job and his heavy caseload. He exhaled as he walked faster toward the parking lot, absorbing the chill in the air and gazing at the leaves descending from some nearby trees. He thought Grace was an attorney and he hoped she was a prosecutor. He would love a piece of that action. Then he remembered his stupid comment when he noticed Grace's uneasiness at the sight of his firearm.

  "Don't worry, miss. I'm a cop."

  "Damn it! That sounded goofy."

  The green eyes had done something to his tongue and his brain. He lost all coolness, all his macho how-to-get-the-girl routine that usually came so natural to him. His instincts were always on target.

  Max was annoyed as hell. The woman took his breath away and made certain body parts stand at attention. She said something about him avoiding her and that he had her number. What the hell had she been talking about? He wasn't avoiding her.

  He only received one message from her. He shook his head in confusion as he entered his car. He didn't have time for this crap. He had a case to solve.

  He started the ignition and headed to the precinct, trying his hardest to get Grace Martin out of his mind. It didn't help matters one bit that remnants of her perfume lingered on his dress shirt.

  Instantly, the thoughts of her voluptuous body wedged up against his chest filled his mind. He couldn't help but smile. She was the best-looking homicide detective he ever laid eyes on.

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  Chapter 4

  His palm was against the back of Celina's neck while he directed her down the hallway. She felt him scanning her backside.

  The decision was made to obey her captor and do as he wished. He let her shower, gave her a clean dress and a meal, although she couldn't help but wonder if it were poisoned or perhaps her last, but she was starving.

  Her hands were red and swollen from the cool temperatures, and she rubbed them together in an effort to warm them.

  The rooms and hallways were stone, and each footstep echoed as they made their way toward another room.

  The corridor was short and narrow. The ground looked like some kind of dirt-covered paving stones, though she felt like she was in an old basement and the stone walls and flooring were faux.

  She had no idea where she was, but as they walked, she could have sworn she heard crying. Celina was shocked to find out she wasn't his only prisoner. She looked in the direction the sound came from.

  "Keep moving and don't make a sound,” he told her and she did as he said.

  When they reached the end of the corridor, there was another door with a twelve-foot by twelve-foot square area containing metal bars. This was what he meant by better arrangements?

  The door opened wider.

  Her captor pushed her inside the sheet-rocked room. Numerous torture devices covered the walls and the floor.

  Instantly, she knew she was in trouble.

  The long hot shower, special fig oil fragrance body wash and clean clothes were not for her comfort. Instead, they were meant to purify her, make her presentable and to conform to his high standards and demands in preparation for the acts he was about to perform.

  How stupid she was to believe otherwise.

  Her captor smiled through his black leather mask, and his eyes sparkled. He too smelled of the expensive, fragrant oil. He closed the door behind him, then reached to the sidewall.

  His choice was made as he carefully removed the object and gripped it tightly.

  "Please don't hurt me. Please ... you promised,” she pleaded.

  He ignored those pleas as he swung the sharp leather whip to either side of her.

  The sharp sound sent her whole body into a panicked state. She shook, crying, pleading for help.

  He laughed while he walked in a circle around her, just barely missing her skin with each strike of the sharp black whip.

  Celina curled herself into the fetal position on the floor, covering her head with her arms.

  "I've had a long, stressful day at the office and I need to relieve some tension."

  The whip snapped, this time piercing the skin on Celina's leg. She screamed out in pain.

  * * * *

  He continued to toy with her, fulfilling the fantasy he thought about most of the day at work.

  He craved that control, that immense feeling of triumph and power over everyone and everything around him. His workday had lacked that immensely. Although he had no intention of causing much injury to the slave before him, he was enormously satisfied in just knowing the control he had. The bonus of intense fear in Celina's eyes was satisfying those urges and his hunger.

  The room filled with that control. It fed him, absorbed through every pore of his skin, through the blood in his every vein. He was the high and mighty, the leader, the most powerful ... the Master.

  The whip continued to snap against the concrete, and his words of anger penetrated the helpless body of his victim. The sharp snap echoed and bounced against the walls of his secret lair.

  * * * *

  Down the hallway, a woman cried, covered her ears, and shook in fear.

  Celina prayed for her life and her prayers were answered.

  * * * *

  Grace finished her lunch meeting with Jerry and the Marquettes. To her, the boyfriend sounded nervous and he acted as if he were withholding information, wouldn't speak in front of Celina's parents.

  He
was adamant about helping the police. She wondered if it were his little drug problem. Her instincts were right and as she tried to open her car door, Jerry emerged out of nowhere.

  "Miss Martin, can I please have a minute?” he asked and Grace glanced around to see if anyone was nearby in case the kid was up to something.

  She held her car key between her fingers, then made a fist at her side. It was an old self-defense trick, but it would do a number if necessary.

  "It's Detective Martin. What is it, Jerry?"

  "I-I don't feel comfortable with the detectives working the case. They already think that Celina was fooling around. One of the cops suggested prostitution."

  "Jerry, I told you this before, the police have to investigate every aspect of this case. She was last seen leaving work, not outside her apartment as first reported. That means she could have gone anywhere in the three hours in between. There are a lot of questions."

  "I know where she went."

  Grace watched him closely. She wondered if he were about to admit to murder.

  "What are you talking about? You said you hadn't seen her since the night before."

  "I lied."

  "Why would you do that?"

  "It's not what you think. I have a drug problem. I'm trying to quit, really."

  "I already know about your little problem. What does this have to do with Celina?"

  Jerry lowered his head. “She went uptown to buy me some drugs. She should have been by my place at 10:00 p.m., but she never came. I checked out her place and she wasn't there. I saw the blood and the broken mirrors. I panicked and called the police. I didn't want to tell them where she went. It's my fault."

  "Why did you lie to the police? They could be trying to find out where she was last seen and with whom. Why would you let her do this?"

  "She owed me."

  "What the hell do you mean by ‘she owed you?’”

  "She was cheating on me with some big shot, rich guy. She met him at one of her parents’ parties, and he seduced her. She said he was into some kinky stuff, tried to tie her up, and she wouldn't let him."

  "Who was the guy?"

  Grace watched as Jerry bowed his head again and the tears rolled down his cheeks. She couldn't help but wonder if he were lying.

  "She never told me. I swear, Detective Martin, she never told me."

  Grace wasn't sure what to do. Max Mathews wasn't assisting her in any way and now she had important information for him. She had no choice but to go see him.

  "We have to tell Frank and the other detectives investigating this case, Jerry. They need this information."

  "But you're a detective. Can't you find this guy?"

  "It would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Think hard, Jerry. Do you remember her saying anything else? Did she meet him at his place or at a club somewhere?"

  "She met him at some underground club downtown. You know ... the kind the cops can never find?"

  "Let's see what we can find out on our own. I need for you to find out if Celina even met with your dealer for your drugs. That way, I can come up with a better timeline. In the meantime, I'll talk to Frank and the detectives."

  "Fine."

  * * * *

  Grace sat at the desk in the private computer room writing down names and telephone numbers of Celina's friends. Jerry had told her Celina's best friend was Mary Chloe. However, Mrs. Marquette refused to believe her daughter was even hanging out with such trash as Mrs. Marquette had put it.

  "Well, Mrs. Marquette, I want to be sure to question anyone who may be connected to your daughter. Do you know where I can locate this Mary Chloe?"

  "No, I do not."

  "Well, I'll call you if I discover anything new."

  "Be sure you do,” Mrs. Marquette stated rather abruptly, and Grace was a bit surprised.

  Grace wasn't sure whether this had something to do with the mere mention of her daughter hanging out with Mary or the fact her daughter was missing and Mrs. Marquette felt more could be done to find her.

  Grace had spoken with the commander and he now allowed Grace and Frank to work together. Grace had left another message for Max Mathews but received no response yet. Either way, Grace had a job to do and she questioned everyone's integrity.

  She hoped Mary held some useful information like perhaps where to find this underground club.

  If she could question Mary, locate the club, then she would go to Lieutenant Mathews and let him in on the current information. Even though he seemed unwilling to share his info with her, Grace's main objective was to locate Celina Marquette. She received a call from Jerry; Celina had never showed to get Jerry's fix.

  Grace's gut told her Celina was probably fed up with Jerry's problem and had opted to hit the club instead of getting her boyfriend's drugs. Maybe Celina met the rich guy at the club? Maybe he owned the place? Numerous questions ran through Grace's mind. None of them meant squat if she didn't have solid proof, evidence, or an eyewitness to prove her theories. Maybe after visiting Mary Chloe, she would have more answers.

  * * * *

  Detective Tommy Johnson and Lieutenant Max Mathews met outside the precinct before checking out a lead in the murder cases.

  "So what went down?” Max asked, referring to the meeting between Grace Martin, the detective from Missing Persons and the Marquettes.

  "Everything seemed fine. The boyfriend definitely looked nervous, and after the meeting, he cornered Martin by her car,” Tommy informed Max then inhaled the nicotine, taking one last puff before he entered the unmarked car. He knew Max hated the bad habit.

  "What did you make of it?” Max asked.

  "She's gorgeous."

  "Not Martin, I mean about the boyfriend. Did it look like he was confessing something?” Max started the engine.

  "It looked serious. They did look around to see if anyone was watching them. The kid seemed to be shedding some tears. Martin didn't seem to bat an eye."

  Max thought about what Tommy told him and had a feeling Detective Grace Martin was withholding information. If that were the case, she would regret that mistake.

  But then again, he knew she was under Don Nikko's command. Don was a good guy, but still, Martin had an attitude.

  He drove further downtown to a place called The Cave.

  When they arrived, they were shocked at what type of store it was.

  "Whoowee, this must be our lucky day. Check out the lingerie.” Tommy practically drooled over the merchandise. That was nothing compared to the wide arrangement of sex toys and numerous devices that covered most of the store shelves. There were harem costumes, leather and chain costumes, knights, gypsies, whatever, but Max focused his attention on the black door to the right of the counter and register as well as the black-haired beauty who stood behind the counter.

  She was all done up from head to toe in a two-sizes-too-small Morticia Addams black dress, her surgically enlarged breasts practically escaping from the top, and deep fire-red lipstick covering her large plump lips.

  Her black, fake eyelashes accentuated her deep brown eyes that immediately took on an angry expression.

  "Your other guy already stopped by and collected this month's payoff,” she blurted out and Max and Tommy were instantly annoyed. The thought of corruption in the police force made Max's stomach churn but he ignored the statement.

  "We're looking for Mary Chloe."

  "Well, look no further, darling, here I am.” She eyed Max and Tommy like they were pieces of meat.

  "I can get someone to cover here and the three of us can head to the back.” She licked her lips and came around the counter.

  Tommy was apparently a bit taken aback, but Max kept his cool.

  "We have a few questions for you."

  Mary Chloe glided her hand across Max's forearm, and then did the same to Tommy.

  "So who wants to go first and who wants to watch?” She licked her lips again.

  "We're here about Celina Marquette,” Max told her and Ma
ry immediately stopped her act.

  "What do you want?"

  "We understand you two were close and we were wondering when you saw her last."

  "I don't know what happened to her. I saw her the afternoon before she went missing."

  "Did she come here a lot?"

  "No, she didn't. She wasn't into this stuff like me. We've been friends for years, and I would tell you guys right away if I knew what happened to her or who may have taken her."

  "How about her boyfriend. Do you know him well?"

  "Jerry? Yeah, I know him and I know that he loves Celina, but...."

  Mary looked away a moment. She seemed unsure if she should share something so personal about her friend. She obviously didn't care for cops, even though Max and Tommy were investigating Celina's disappearance. There were good cops and bad cops, as was the case in every field. Her attention was then drawn to the front entrance and at a steady regular.

  The bell above the door rang and Max and Tommy looked to see who entered. The guy wore a business suit and froze when he noticed them speaking with the storeowner. He turned fast around and practically ran down the sidewalk.

  "You're not good for business, fellas, so if you could just leave now, my wallet would appreciate it."

  Mary headed back behind the counter.

  "If you remember anything else, we would appreciate a quick call. Doesn't matter how little, just call me.” Max handed Mary his business card.

  They left the store and headed to another of Celina's friends’ residence uptown.

  * * * *

  Half an hour later, Grace stood a few feet from the door to The Cave and immediately understood Mrs. Marquette's anxiety. This didn't make any sense considering the detailed description of Celina from her family, her friends, and her boyfriend Jerry. Did Celina work behind the counter and maybe run the register? There were plenty of other decent and more respectable places to work.

  Grace immediately had a bad feeling and something told her this case would get a bit more complicated once she opened the door.

  Taking a deep breath, then glancing around validated that she was alone. She opened the door. She knew her face flushed, and her eyes widened at the assortment of numerous toys and costumes that decorated the store. Admittedly, she felt uneasy and out of place but refused to show it.