Deviant Behaviors Collection: Deviant Behaviors, #4

By Adan Ramie

+ Three books, 2 anthologies, and never-before-published extra content +

MALADAPTATION

A drug deal gone wrong. The murder of an old friend. A stolen ride turned kidnapping. Three women follow the same path on a map plotted by murder. Who will survive?

A romantic thriller readers call "dark and gritty" and "a haunting story". "This is not two heroines on the run, finding love, defeating evil and living happily ever after."

Lee Barsten is stuck. Raised in foster care and group homes, she's seen more than her fair share of abuse, and dealt out almost as much in retribution. When her best friend makes an enemy of a sadistic drug dealer, she has no choice but to run before he kills again.

In the same city, Ruby Isles might as well be living in another world. Money is abundant, but the abuse is just as plentiful. Her plan to leave her husband is dashed when she crosses paths with Lee and is forced to choose her fate in a single bloody moment.

Detective Harry Thresher picks up the scent when an exotic dancer is violently murdered, and fingerprints link the wife of a prominent businessman to the crime scene. Against orders, she follows the case down a dark and twisted path littered with bodies.

Their lives collide as drugs, murder, and lust drive them to unexpected extremes.

A WORLD OF DEVIANT BEHAVIORS #1

Orphaned, abused, and addicted, Malena "Lee" Barsten has had a hard life. From her earliest memories until just before her appearance in the novel Maladaptation, this is her progression from bad to worse in five short stories.

A WORLD OF DEVIANT BEHAVIORS #2

Detective Harry Thresher is the protector of the downtrodden and the champion of the abused. She will put her life on the line for yours without the blink of an eye. But there's more to her than meets the eye, and in these six stories, you'll find out what makes her tick - and twitch.

CLUSTER B

The kids aren't all right in the local youth shelter. They're dropping like flies, and the one person who cares is forbidden from following their bloody trail…

Readers called it "a stunning thriller" and "a complicated, dramatic story".

Harry Thresher has been stripped of her badge and her livelihood pending a formal investigation into the shooting death of a former suspect. She's furious – and bored as hell.

On the lookout for something to distract her from her misery, she goes to the local youth shelter to take her mind off her misery and stumbles onto something ominous.

When a missing boy comes back with a bloody surprise, Harry knows she must risk losing her badge forever to save the kids — and the woman — she has come to love.

"A great story with many surprises and a must for fans of this genre."

EAGER OBSERVER

She's got her badge back, but Detective Harry Thresher is still spiraling out of control.

Booze, women, and working outside of the bounds of the law are still her forte, even if her new partner, rookie detective Erin Garcia, doesn't like it.

They're on the case of the man the press has dubbed the Initial Killer. He's one of the smartest - or luckiest - killers Harry has ever pursued, and every lead leaves her cold. But when she gets on the trail of crime blogger Millie Hamlin, Harry knows it's the trail she has to follow, no matter who doesn't like it.

The Initial Killer has a message for all of them. Will Harry solve the case before he kills someone closer to home?

Contains adult content. Reader discretion advised.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Atypical Deviance Press
• Release date: Jul 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393174011

Adan Ramie

Adan Ramie lives in a small town in Texas that is not unlike Andy Griffith's Mayberry with her wife and children. You can find her work in anthologies, magazines, and online journals. For updates, free fiction, and giveaways, sign up for her newsletter at: http://www.adanramie.com/newsletter

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A Note from the Author

This collection is six years in the making. I’ve made revisions, added details, and included additional content in this collection that can’t be found anywhere else.

When I first started writing, I was in the horror genre, but that all changed with one story - the story of two women in peril who needed each other, even as they scared each other. That story became the thriller  novel Maladaptation, and I’ve never looked back.

For early discounts, free stories, and exclusive giveaways, you can join my Constant Readers group.

And if you enjoyed the Deviant Behaviors Collection and feel so inclined, it would be a great help to me if you posted your opinion in a review.

Thanks for giving my series a shot!

MALADAPTATION

Adan Ramie

Maladaptation by Adan Ramie

www.AdanRamie.com

Copyright © 2015 Adan Ramie

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Note from the Author

––––––––

Every author has a darling, and if I had to choose from everything I’ve ever written, Maladaptation is mine.

It’s like a child to me. The labor pains were excruciating, but in the end, it was all worth it. I hope you love the characters as much as I do.

1

The club was dark when the dancer stepped on stage. The first few chords of a trashy hair metal song echoed through the dark parlor, and the platform lit up. She slung her hair in a cascade of fuchsia and electric pink, and strutted toward the pole in front of the crowd. Her tawny hips gyrated to the beat of the music over catcalls and grunts. Just before her customers started to complain, she popped the buttons off her vest and threw it into the audience.

Lee Barsten looked on through hooded eyes with disinterest. Her drink sat forgotten in a puddle of its own condensation on the grimy table, and her cigarette had burned down to the filter and hovered precariously on the edge of the full ashtray. She flicked the butt into the tray with one bitten fingernail, then brought her hand up to push a straggly coil of brown hair off her forehead.

Can I get you another drink, Lee? The raccoon-eyed waitress smiled, her lips cracked under fire engine red lipstick.

Lee feigned a smile and stretched in the rickety bar stool. Nah, I don’t think so, Sunny. Sitting here is killing my back.

Sunny frowned and leaned down. Her freckled cleavage struggled against the bonds of her ivory and hunter green bodice, and she pushed a braid of ginger hair laced with fake green vines behind one ear. What's wrong with you today? She grinned and nudged Lee’s shoulder. Did that girl from last night wear you out?

You don’t know the half of it. She was a freaking nightmare, and I’m just glad she doesn’t know where I live. She slipped off the bar stool and onto the floor. Her boots stuck to the grimy surface, and she made a face. I’m gonna get some air, and maybe make a run.

Be careful, okay? Sunny plead, looking down at Lee, who met her worried eyes. People are getting rolled hard out there. A fix isn’t worth your life.

I’ll be all right. I’ve got Josie. She pulled on a dark jacket faded at the elbows, and glanced at the door as it shut behind a group of stumbling, vocal, college boys. Besides, what the hell kind of a life do I have to protect? They might be doing me a favor.

The waitress put her hands on her hips. That’s a pretty screwed up thing to say, Lee. She tapped a green, lace-up stiletto on the floor and pursed her lips. I hope you’re coming to my show later. I’m going on break at six, but I’ll be on at nine.

Rain check, Lee said, handing her a folded twenty. Keep the change.

Lee walked out of the strip club feeling bored and lonely. She passed by stores advertising cheap liquor, guns without background checks, and hypoallergenic fetish toys. The streets darkened, and a sheen of sweat, urine and mold seemed to gradually cover everything around her. Her hand lingered on the knife in her pocket.

Hey, beautiful. A tall, broad-shouldered man leaned against the sticky, graffiti-covered wall, his midriff bared, and a smile painted on his weary face. Looking for a good time?

Lee made a gagging noise in her throat. Josie, you’re going to get yourself killed or arrested just calling out to people like that.

He sidled over and grabbed her in a bear hug. She complied, then pushed him away and straightened her jacket. He leaned back against a post, and gave her a once-over punctuated with a disapproving click of his tongue that reminded her of a grade-school teacher. Girl, you don’t look so good.

She gave him a dirty look. You’re one to talk. You look like you’ve been ridden hard and put up wet. She leaned against the opposite side of the post, and shot him a sideways glance. How’s trade?

Same scene, different day; nobody plays unless they pay. He chewed at the chipped black polish on one of his fingernails. Not many are up for play lately. I’m starting to think I’m going to have to get a 9-to-5 just to make it.

I can’t say I could see you as a cashier. She looked away to hide her grin.

Oh, please, like I’d be a register jockey. You know I’d do something with hair or makeup. He primped his slick blonde hair and made a kissy face in an imaginary mirror. Bitch would be getting paid to look fabulous and make over ugly straight girls.

Lee turned around to look him in the face. I don’t know why you don’t do that. You could leave this all behind.

Oh my God, he said, and pulled up to his full height. He towered over her, a linebacker dressed in half drag, and looked equal halves offended and amused.

You know no one is ready for all this. He slid a hand down his thick midsection and popped one rounded hip. Besides, I can’t make enough in a day to support myself in a normal job. Not without this on the side.

I think I’m going to look for a real job. Get a life, a better place, and a girl. Be normal. She slouched back against the pole.

Josie laughed down at her. You couldn’t be normal. It isn’t in you. He turned and started to walk in the opposite direction from whence she came. You coming? I need a little recreational break.

Lee pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and tapped two out. She lit them both with a lighter she pulled from her front pocket, then jogged to catch up and handed him one. He winked his thanks.

So, who are we visiting today?

You’ll see, he said, and took a drag off his cigarette.

She had to jog now and again to match his long stride, but she kept up the pace and soon they stopped at a house she had only been in once before. It was a two-story affair painted stark white, with a black gable roof, black shutters, and a red door. All the windows were covered from the inside with thick, white curtains. Four cars clogged the driveway, and Lee assumed the three-car garage was full, as well.

I don’t know why you deal with him, she whispered from the side of her mouth as they stood on the stoop in front of the door.

It’s primo, and he’s close. He rapped on the door three times in quick succession, then twice more after a pause. And he’s hot.

Lee snorted, then stubbed out her cigarette on the stoop. Yeah, if you think a dude who walks around thinking he’s the next American Gangster is hot.

He clapped her on the shoulder. I always have. He cleared his throat. And because I had a little falling out with Eddie.

Lee whipped her head up to look at him. What do you mean, falling out? What did you do?

He smiled, but his face was tight, and she could see too many of his teeth. Lee knew the look, and she knew that whatever happened, it was not as simple as he let on. It’s nothing, he said.

The door in front of them creaked open, and the two went quiet. A stooped old woman poked her head out and squinted up at them. Who’s that? What do you want? she squawked in a thick accent.

I need to see Chinh, Josie said.

The old woman looked up at him through sparse, black eyebrows with disdain; her old, hollow eyes bored into his, then flicked her gaze to Lee. "And what do you want, cô bé?"

I’m the money.

The door opened, and they walked inside. The old woman snapped the door shut almost soundlessly behind them, then shuffled away. You know where to go, she threw over her shoulder.

Josie walked to a door beside the staircase and rapped on it twice. He waited until he heard heavy footfalls on steps to knock again, twice more. He stepped aside just as the door opened out.

Who’s that? a teenage girl asked through a mouthful of bubblegum, her eyes narrowed. She popped a bubble at Josie, then turned her dark eyes to Lee. She sucked her gum back into her mouth with a grin and held out a hand to shake. Or should I say, who’s this?

You remember me, I’m Josie, he said. The girl didn’t even acknowledge him.

What’s your name, beautiful? She circled Lee like a predator, looking her over. She stopped behind her, mouth near Lee’s ear, and whispered, Baby, you know I love white girls. You are succulent.

Lee turned her head so that she could see the girl out of her peripheral vision. My name is Lee. Girls like you usually end up screaming it sooner or later.

The girl grinned and turned to Josie. I like this little white girl. You should bring her by more often. She motioned for him to head downstairs, then patted Lee on the back pocket. You stay close, Dandelion. It’s no place for a girl like you down there.

I can handle myself. Lee kept on Josie’s heels as he walked down into the darkness of the cellar.

It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness, and just as they did, a single bulb clicked on. A group of large, dark men stood in a semicircle around one smaller, Vietnamese man. For every three feet of space in the small room, there was one guard, and all of them stood tall, their arms crossed in front of them, as if waiting for an attack.

Chinh, thank you for seeing me, Josie said, and walked forward with a hand extended. One of the guards stepped in front of him, but Chinh motioned him back. He held out a hand and took Josie’s as if he regarded him almost a friend.

Joseph, I hope you’re well.

Can’t complain, Josie said, and winked. I just need a little recreation after a long, exhausting day.

Chinh nodded and signaled to the guard farthest from them. The man retreated, and Lee focused her eyes on the leader of the group. He was small but muscular, with skin the color of milky coffee and eyes that looked like pure black dots. His suit was tailored, finely made in a rich brown, with a mustard-colored tie. His movements were deliberate and slow, and he seemed to be looking at both Josie and Lee at the same time.

You’ve brought a guest, Chinh said to Josie, but he was looking straight into Lee’s eyes. I trust that you know the rules.

The rules are the same here as anywhere else, she replied, and he raised one eyebrow at her. Don’t be stupid, don’t be rude, and don’t get caught.

Chinh turned to Josie just as the guard came back with a handful of tiny paper satchels. Please, choose your parcels. The price is always the same.

Josie picked two from the bunch, and cleared his throat to get Lee’s attention. Sixty, he murmured.

She pulled out her wallet and peeled three twenties out. She stepped forward and placed them into Chinh’s waiting hand. It surprised her, at first, by being so dry, and so soft. It surprised her again by clasping hers. You should always have your money ready. Never bring out your lot in front of men who would take it from you.

Men would take everything I have. She pulled her hand from his grasp. She tucked her wallet back into her jeans, then met his eyes again. But I won’t let them.

One of the guards grunted and she shot him a dirty look. Chinh frowned at him, then looked back to Lee. You would be wise to not advertise your abilities. Those of us who are slight of frame are easily underestimated. That can be your greatest strength. He bowed his head, but kept his eyes on both of his guests.

She bowed her head, then followed Josie up the steps. They left the house without meeting any more of Chinh’s relatives. Outside, she wrenched him by the arm and spun him around. What was that?

He looked at her with an innocent pout. What? We made it, right? She glared at him. You’re okay, I’m okay, and we have what we came for. What’s the problem? He pulled his arm away and started walking.

The problem is that you know it isn’t safe going there. He snorted and walked faster, and she struggled to keep up. Josie, I’m serious!

He whirled on her and she stopped short and bumped into his large chest. Nothing I do is safe. I live my life the way I choose. If someone wants to beat me to death, I hope they get a good dose of my disease when I bleed all over them.

He turned and started walking again. She jogged to catch up, then kept time with him. They walked a few blocks, up a rickety flight of stairs, and into their apartment. He didn’t bother to lock the door behind him, and flung himself onto a weary sofa.

Listen, Josie, she said.

He held up a hand for silence, then tossed one of the bags to her. He pulled two trays from under the sofa, handed one to her, and kept the other for himself. She dumped the bag out onto the tray and began pulling stems out of the fragrant, dark green buds while he chopped white lumps into powder.

Something you should already know about me, girl, is that I don’t care. He tapped the razor blade on the little glass and examined the lines he had created. When I do start to give a fuck again, I make sure to squash that feeling. He leaned down and snorted a line of it through a straw, then wiped at his nostril with a tissue.

He held out a clean straw and she scooted closer to him on the sofa. She sucked in one after another at his suggestion, then sat back and let the drug pump through her.

Don’t you ever want something more? she whispered.

He laughed, but it sounded more intoxicated than genuine. I can’t have anything else. It’s over for me. For you, maybe there’s something else. He picked up the joint she had rolled and felt around for a lighter in his pockets, but came up empty.

She held out her lighter. He lit the joint, sucked in a deep breath, and then held it as he watched the smoke rise in milky white tendrils. He took another puff before he handed it over to her.

Lee pulled herself mostly upright, and took a long, deep hit. She grimaced as the smoke hit her lungs and they protested. She handed it back, then let the smoke out slowly to stave off a cough.

I don’t know what to do. I’m stuck. I have a shitty, under-the-table job. I smoke too much. I drink too much. And I sure as hell snort too much. She took the joint as it was offered and took another hit. I don’t know how the hell to get out.

You’ll get your chance, Lee, Josie answered, and sucked another line into his angry, red nostril. His phone vibrated and he picked it up.

Got a job? she asked.

He groaned at the phone. Fuck.

Lee sat up straight. What’s up, man? She tried to see the message, but he turned the screen away before she could read it. What’s going on?

He tapped out a message and flipped the phone closed. It’s nothing I can’t handle, he said. She knew better than to push it.

They sat and smoked another half hour before Josie’s phone buzzed again. He frowned, but didn’t check the message.

Do you need to get that? she asked.

I can handle my own business, he said with a pointed look.

She rolled her eyes. Hey, it’s your funeral.

He snapped his head toward her with a defensive scowl. What the hell does that mean?

Nothing, she said, and pushed herself off the sofa. Listen, I’m gonna go out for a while. I might head back up to Wet to watch Sunny’s show, so if you need me... He glared up at her, and she shrugged. I’m just saying, if you need me to grab some food or something while I’m out, text me.

Sure, I’ll text you if I feel like eating deep fried pig fat and mayonnaise.

She chuckled. That is sick, man.

He dropped the half-smoked joint into the ashtray to smolder out. So is your diet.

Hey, we can’t all live off protein shots, she said, and mimed giving a blow job. He tossed a shoe at her, and she dodged out of the way. Good night, Josie.

She turned to walk to the door, but a loud knock stopped her mid-stride. She twisted around to stare at Josie, who stood up and put a finger over his lips. He slipped his bare, size 12 feet into running shoes as a cold feeling pooled in the bottom of Lee’s stomach. She grabbed her knife and shoved it into one back pocket.

Open the door, faggot!

Lee would recognize the voice anywhere. The man behind it was short, but full of the wiry strength of the red fox he resembled. Josie closed his eyes and sucked in the lightest breath his large lungs would accept. He peeked out the peephole, then stepped back toward Lee.

I know you’re in there, and I want my money!

Lee flinched as the assault on the door continued anew. Josie leaned toward her; when his lips brushed her ear, he whispered, We have to go out the window.

She turned and headed for the window. With a little effort, she dragged it open. It let out a loud shudder and squeaked as it stopped in place at three-quarters of the way open. She glanced outside, then backed up to let Josie go first. He threw a long leg over the sill, sucked in his stomach, and wiggled until he gained purchase on the squeaky fire escape.

OPEN THE DOOR, OR I’LL OPEN IT FOR YOU, FAIRY!

Lee glanced back at the door as the tell-tale sound of a thick, muscular shoulder against the door thumped through the apartment. Josie ducked out and started the scramble down the fire escape. Lee put both legs out, ducked under the window, and slipped outside just as the door splintered apart. She didn’t turn around as the thumping of feet on the floor came thundering toward her. At the end of the fire escape, Josie reached out two hands to break her fall, and she jumped.

The two glanced up to watch as two heads with identical furious expressions popped out of the window.

I’ll find you! yelled the first, and shoved the second back inside. He spat a great wad of mucus down at them, and they both turned on their heels and ran.

2

Ruby Isles stared out the window into the deepening twilight. Pale brown hair spilled over her shoulders and her pointed chin rested heavily in her palms. Her elbows bit into the heavy marble desk in front of the picture window in her large living room. The house was silent behind her. The quiet stretched out, filling each of the eight rooms on two floors; it echoed so loudly that her ears rang and her head swam.

At least Truman isn't home.

She leaned back in her chair, dangled her head over the headrest, and stared up at the gilded ceiling with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. When he came in, the energy of the whole house changed, and not for the better. Sometimes, she could swear she felt the chateau-style house itself cringe when the thunderclap of a slap across her face reverberated around her. Like a sympathetic but powerless neighbor, the house stood by and listened to him rage while she cried, and when he was gone, it held her like the mother she had lost.

But for now, her husband was in another city on business for two weeks. She had the whole place to herself, but it was so quiet, an idea had brewed, unbidden, in her head. More than that, she had planned it down to the last detail. She stood up and walk around the immaculate room. She straightened a picture on the wall and dusted the top of Truman's top sales award from his first year on the job. Then, she sat down again and stared out the window, her eyes disinterested and unfocused until they flicked down to the neatly packed suitcases beside her.

She stood, went to the kitchen, and then walked across the black and white tiles she hated to the stainless-steel refrigerator. Everything inside was lined up by category and color, each package sized up perfectly with its mates. They stared out at her like a troop of rigid Nazi soldiers. She grimaced, then pulled out a plastic jar of cat food, and slammed the door behind her with one foot.

As the plastic seal broke, Ruby felt a warm, fuzzy ball wrap itself around her suede ankle boots and grinned. For all his faults, Truman showered her with gifts, and it was he who had given her the kitten. Granted, it was in apology for smashing her head through their bedroom door, but she had lived through worse, and Taya was a constant joy in the mindless, lonely weeks by herself in the quiet house.

The little brown ball of fur kept her company on the nights where every creak of the refurbished plantation house fired off like a gunshot in the eerie silence. Ruby was happy to constantly brush fur off the furniture and her clothes, because Taya loved her indiscriminately, unlike her husband or his fake friends.

She forked the meaty mixture into a dish, then warmed it for a few seconds in the microwave before she placed it on the gleaming floor by her feet. Taya attacked the lukewarm paste, and stopped only occasionally to dip her face into the bowl of water by her food dish before she started to choke down the lumpy stuff again. Ruby grinned at the cat's relish for the simple pleasure of a full belly, then turned away and looked out the window, her hands on either side of the giant, steel sink she had begged Truman not to install.

Dusk had settled, and the tall, ornate post lights lining the street outside glittered. She initially thought they looked like fairy lights dancing in the dark on the still little street, but lately, they looked more like prison spotlights. Ruby tried to picture what Truman would be doing, then groaned at the image that popped into her head.

She knew he wasn't faithful, knew he had women in every city he visited who showered him with compliments and easy sex. She accepted it years before when, on a whim, she decided to fly out to see him in Pittsburgh. He told her he would be at a Pirates game with his partners all night, chugging beer, wolfing down hot dogs, and shouting obscenities at professional athletes. Ruby, newly married, and with her head full of fairy tales, intended to be waiting for him after the game with a bottle of wine and wearing nothing but a smile. But when she got to his hotel room, she slipped inside just in time to see Truman climb off a smug socialite who had eyed her scathingly at company powwows.

She left, flew home, and never spoke of it to anyone, least of all Truman. If he knew she had caught him, he would fly into such a rage, he might put her in the hospital again, and she had already been running out of excuses for broken bones, knife gashes, and cigar burns. They moved a month later.

Instead of looking for a new city to call their home, this time she had decided to make a new home without him. She picked up the cat and nuzzled it close. It licked its lips and squirmed. She put it back on the floor, and it darted back to the food it had nearly devoured.

I’ll miss you, she told Taya.

The cat continued to lap up its food, so Ruby turned and walked to where her suitcases waited. She had done all she could. She had clothes, toiletries, her passport, and a bank bag full of cash. She had stashed it for months, little by little so Truman wouldn’t notice, and she finally had what she thought was enough. She had her car and her little disposable cell phone. All she had to do was leave.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed his number. It was late there, but he would be awake, and she wanted to put him at ease. He liked to hear from her at least once a day while he was gone.

Hello, Truman. She tried to smile, but it was forced, and it didn’t cheer her voice as she had hoped it would.

I’m busy right now. Call me in the morning, he said.

I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to bed. I miss you, and I love you.

Yeah. I love you, too, he said, and hung up the phone.

A few minutes later, she had her suitcases in the trunk of her car, a CD in the player, and the printed directions on the passenger seat beside her. The gun was in the glove box just in case she ran into trouble; moreover, she was glad that, when he came home and found her gone, Truman wouldn't have it to use against her. If all went according to plan, she would be several states away before he even realized she was gone. She started the car, backed out, and left him.

3

Standing in front of a Spartan mirror, Harrison Thresher pulled her dirty blonde hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She leaned forward to inspect what looked like a bruise on her throat, then rubbed away what turned out to be a smudge of lipstick. Behind her in the motel room, she could just see the disheveled bed and the older woman dozing there.

I have to get to work, she called softly, and the woman’s head turned just far enough that she knew she had heard her. You stay here. Get breakfast on me, okay?

Her date pulled the white sheet over her head. Don’t get killed today, Harry, she mumbled.

I never do, Harry answered, and clipped her badge onto her belt. In the mirror stared back at her a feminized version of her father: pale skin reddened along the cheeks and dusted with freckles, bright eyes gleaming behind a suspicious squint, and the hint of a sardonic smile on her wide mouth that betrayed her Irish roots.

She straightened her collar, flipped off the bathroom light, and walked back toward the bed. She grabbed her wallet from the bedside table, slipped out a few bills, and dropped them on the dresser.

I’ll see you in a few days?

The woman in the bed mumbled her assent. Harry stared down at her sheet-draped form for a moment with a twinge of something like guilt or regret. The moment passed, she snatched her keys off the side table, and walked out of the hotel room, closing the door softly behind her. Before she even got to her car, Harry had her phone to her head. It rang once, twice, three times before it went to voicemail. Harry growled.

Cal, what the hell are you doing not answering your phone? You had better not be on a case without me. Call me back.

She mashed the button to end the call, then stuffed the smart phone in the front pocket of her slacks just as she got to her car. She unlocked the door, got inside, then turned around and smashed her fist into the face of the man in the back seat before he could utter a word.

What the hell? he cried. His hand cradled his nose, but it couldn’t contain the blood that flowed between his fingers.

I should ask the same thing, Harry said. In the back seat, her partner, Calvin Gafferty, sat scowling through his cupped hand. She grabbed a stack of paper towels from the glove compartment and stuffed them into his free hand. You’re lucky I don’t shoot without looking. You could have more than a bloody nose right now. She made the motion of shooting a gun with her left hand.

Yeah, I get it, it was a dumb move. He shimmied over the seats, all six feet of him, until he sat in the passenger seat beside his partner. We going to check anything out?

Harry clasped her seat belt and started the car. The station got a call about a teenage girl missing 48 hours. There's blood at the scene; might be an abduction.

Why do people wait so long to report their kids missing?

The movies. Harry shrugged. It’s probably no big deal, but we need to check it out just in case.

Let’s ride, he said, and snapped his seat belt shut.

You know you’re not Nicolas Cage, don’t you, Cal?

Cal laughed through the bundle of paper towels. If I was, I would be driving.

Harry shook her head. I seriously doubt that.

Hours later, Harry sauntered back into the station with Cal on her heels. She wore a wide grin, and her shirt unbuttoned to the middle of her chest so that anyone looking could see the parchment white A-shirt underneath. She dropped into her chair, propped her feet on her desk, and wrapped her hands behind her head. Cal slouched onto the corner of her desk with a happy grin and tapped her on the toe of her boot.

Well, that didn’t take long, he announced loud enough for anyone in the room to hear.

Harry chuckled and scratched one shoulder. I guess we’re just naturals.

Captain Blanca Briggs walked by and nudged Harry out of her jaunty pose. Her boots fell hard to the ground and she scowled up at her superior. Briggs crossed her arms across her wide chest.

Tell me, Detective, what the protocol is for harassing prominent businessmen?

Cal gave Harry a look that she ignored. It said he had told her so, and she didn’t want to hear it. Harry straightened in her chair and tried to pretend that having Captain Briggs tower over her wasn’t the least bit intimidating. The woman was a few inches taller than Harry, but her broad shoulders left Harry looking frail when they stood side-by-side. She kept her hair, a black so shiny that it shone even in darkness, in a severe bun at the back of her well-formed skull, and her uniform was pristine against skin the same color and luster as sun-ripened carob fruit.

I wasn’t aware there was a rule, Harry answered.

Briggs took in a slow, silent breath that flared her nostrils and bit her top lip. She stared down at Harry as if the detective were a pest, and she was considering her options in exterminators. Finally, she dropped her arms and leaned forward almost imperceptibly.

Detective Thresher, I urge you to remember that wealthy, influential men are pack animals. If you badger one, he calls his pack. When enough of the pack has assembled against you, you are doomed to be their lunch. Am I making myself clear?

Harry leaned back and propped her boots onto the desk with a thud. You’re telling me that the next time some pervert executive takes a 16-year-old girl on an impromptu vacation to his sex cabin, you want me to do what? Leave her to be his lunch?

Briggs glared down at her. All I request is more discretion, Detective. I am not asking you to stop doing your job.

It seems to me that’s exactly what you’re asking for, and I think it’s disgusting, Harry said through gritted teeth.

Watch your tone.

Hey, Cal said, and hopped up from the desk. Captain, is your phone ringing?

Briggs turned her contemptuous gaze on him for a moment, but the ringing of the phone caught her attention. Before she left, she leveled one last gaze on Harry. This isn’t the last time we’ll talk about this.

No kidding, Harry said with a sigh.

As Briggs walked away, Cal punched Harry in the shoulder. She swore under her breath and glared up at him.

What the hell was that for?

Are you trying to get us both canned, Thresher? he asked in a harsh whisper. Barking up that tree is about as dumb as a kitten swatting a rattlesnake.

Lay off the metaphors. You suck at them, she said, but her face softened.

Cal shook his head at her. I’m serious. You need to chill.

When I’m too old to work, I’ll chill. Until then, I have people to find.

4

Lee stopped, her hands on her knees, and fought the rising bile in her stomach. Josie skidded to a stop beside her. He clutched his side, panted, and stared into the still darkness behind them. Lee glanced back, too, and searched the streets for any sign of Eddie and his cronies. Everything was still, and she dropped her head back down to suck in a great, shaky breath.

What—the hell—did you do, Josie? She punctuated her words with gasps, and tried to calm the erratic beating of her heart.

He shook his head and squeezed a stitch in his side. I didn't mean to. I was going to a party to look for johns, and I made the mistake of telling Eddie. He took another deep breath, and blew it out slowly. He sent me with a bunch of pre-packaged blow. I did a little, to try to get someone to buy, but I ended up just getting a few johns high before we got down to business. It was a great night to sling ass, but I got rolled. He ran a hand through his hair and stared back from whence they came. I wasn't paying attention.

How much do you owe him?

He hung his head. Too much. More than I can make back in the time he wants it.

Lee pulled herself up and looked around them. We have to get out of here. Out of the neighborhood, out of town.

Out of the state, if we want to live to see tomorrow, he finished for her. She nodded. His cell phone buzzed twice in his pocket, and he pulled it out to read the incoming messages. Oh, shit, he said, drawing the last word out in a groan.

What is it?

He tucked his phone away. It's Sunny. We need to get over there.

Lee started to run before Josie did, but with the long strides of a would-be professional football player, he easily caught up and overtook her. It's Eddie? she asked through a puff of breath.

Sunny said she just got off the phone with him. He was fucking livid. We have to get there before he does.

She bent her head and put all her fury into her pumping legs. She knew that, if they didn't get there in time, the sadistic drug dealer would make short work of dismantling the fast-talking exotic dancer.

This way, he said, and led her down an alley.

Lee struggled to keep up, and was almost on his heels in the tight space when he flew out onto the street. She skidded to a stop, and her ears filled with the sound of screeching tires. Josie!

Josie lay crumpled on the street. Lee ran to him as the car door flew open and a woman scrambled out onto the street. They met over his body, a mess of tangled limbs.

The woman crouched, her face contorted into a mask of horror and shame. Where did you even come from? Oh, God, we have to get you to a hospital.

Lee waved her hand in front of his face. Josie? Are you with me? Say something!

Back off, he whispered, and both women pulled back. I need some air. One arm craned slowly toward his hip, and he hissed a string of obscenities. What the hell happened?

You ran in front of a car, Lee said.

I didn't see you! the other woman said, and buried her face in her hands. I wasn't paying attention.

Neither were we, Lee said. She gingerly pulled Josie's shirt up and winced at the bruises that had already blossomed on his midsection. Do you think anything's broken, Jo?

He moaned. I'm pretty sure my fucking leg is shattered, he said through gritted teeth.

Let me take you to a hospital, the woman said, and stood up. Josie grabbed her by the ankle, and she froze in place.

No. He turned his gaze on Lee. We have to get to Sunny. If we don't hurry, a broken leg won't be the worst thing that happens today.

Lee nodded, then turned to the driver. Can you help me get him to the car?

The woman looked from one to the other like they had just grown extra heads. He could have internal bleeding, and his leg is broken. He needs a hospital.

Lee stood up and faced the woman. She grabbed her hand, pulled her closer, and met her eyes. You don't understand. If we don't get there soon, our friend could end up in the morgue.

The driver pulled back as if she had been slapped. Call the cops.

From his prone position, Josie chuckled, then swore. The cops don't help us. We're street trash. Offal. And so is Sunny. That's why we have to help her. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and belched out hot acid as Lee walked to the car and got in on the passenger side. Then, you can take me to the hospital, he said with a grimace.

The woman turned to stare at Josie, then glanced at the car. Please, don't make me do this. I don't want to get tangled up in someone else's mess. She squinted at Lee as she rifled around inside her car, and took a step forward. What are you doing?

Lee grabbed a hunk of cold, dark metal from the glove box and hauled herself back out of the car. The driver sucked in a breath and let out a horrified groan.

Listen, you hit my friend with your car, Lee said. She held the gun pointed directly at the driver. The least you can do is help us save the friend we were going to help when you derailed us.

Damn, girl, Josie said. He slid himself across the pavement inch by inch until he was near enough the car's hood to get a grip. Can I get a hand up? he asked.

Lee gestured for the woman to help Josie up as she bridged the gap. She was much smaller than him, but stronger than she looked, and with the help of Lee's free arm, the two managed to get him up onto his good leg and into the back seat of the car. Lee wagged the gun at the driver's seat. Get in.

Inside, Lee let out a sigh. You couldn't just do this the easy way, could you? She buckled her seatbelt with her free hand, the gun still trained on the driver as she cautiously buckled herself in and started the car.

I can't get a break, the woman whispered as she glanced in her mirrors, then eased the car around to drive the opposite direction.

Hey, you take us to help our friend, then to the hospital, and you'll never see us again, Lee said.

A police car sped past them, all sirens and lights, and Josie swore. What the hell was that?

5

Ruby shook in the driver's seat. Behind her, a large man in yoga pants and a lollipop t-shirt bled onto her seats and gave her directions. Beside her, a woman about her size with shaggy hair and dark, haunted eyes held a gun on her. She said a silent prayer to something she didn't know she believed in that she would survive the night. They passed a burning building, where a fire truck, ambulance, and police car congregated. Their lights flashed, but their sirens were dead quiet.

Well, we won't be going home again, the woman beside her muttered.

The man in the back seat snorted. Like we want to. As long as Eddie wants my ass on a platter, we wouldn't have been safe there, anyway.

The woman with the gun let out a long sigh. I hope Sunny is okay.

Don't hold your breath, the man said, and reached a hand out to put it on the woman's shoulder. I'm sorry I started this.

It's not your fault, Josie, the woman answered. She didn't take her eyes off the road, but she put her free hand on his. You didn't have a choice.

I chose to take the stuff to the party.

The woman snorted and turned just far enough to look at him in the back seat. Did you choose to be robbed?

You were robbed? Ruby asked, and both sets of eyes landed on her. She wished she could take it back, or crawl into the floorboard and out of sight, anything to avoid the twin expressions of scrutiny now leveled on her.

Yeah, he answered after a long pause. And now a psycho is after me and my friends. Turn here, he said, and pointed one scuffed, but manicured finger at the next cross street.

I'm sorry, Ruby said, and followed his directions.

Soon, they pulled into the dark parking lot of a building whose occupants were mostly outside. In various states of dress and intoxication, the residents watched as the building a few streets down burned to the ground with little help from the on-scene fire fighters.

I don't think I can go, Josie said.

His partner turned to Ruby. Leave the keys and come with me.

Why? I'm not going anywhere. The woman pushed the gun closer to Ruby's ribs, and she winced. Please, I swear.

Don't make me use this thing.

Ruby nodded, unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of the car. She reached for the keys by instinct.

Leave the keys. The woman with the gun unbuckled her seatbelt. I'll be right back, she said to the man she called Josie, then got out of the car. They closed their doors, the woman checked the safety on the gun, then tucked it into her waistband. Let's go.

They pushed past the crowd of people fire-gazing and into the building. Inside, they could hear the steady thump of loud music from above. As they ascended the stairs, Ruby chanced a look at her abductor. Her jaw was set in a hard line, and the muscle twitched with the force of her clench. She was about the same size as Ruby, but there was something much stronger about her, as if she had been cut from a more rugged cloth.

The woman walked past another door, and Ruby cleared her throat. What floor are we going to?

Sixth, the woman answered without a glance at her.

They continued on for another flight, when out of nowhere, the woman tossed an arm across her body to stop Ruby in her tracks. Ruby opened her mouth to question her, but the woman but a finger to her lips. In the distance, Ruby heard heavy footfalls above them, and the sound of men's laughter. The woman pulled Ruby into a door, then put her ear against it. As the voices got closer, Ruby could hear snippets of the conversation, and it made her stomach turn.

She got blood all over me...

Laughter and stomping feet.

Did you see that slut's face when she saw it?

Ruby watched the face of her captor contort in fury. The woman reached for the doorknob, and Ruby caught her hand. The two locked eyes for a moment, balled fist in soft palm, until the men had passed.

We need to go help your friend, Ruby whispered when the voices had faded.

The woman let out a loud breath, jerked open the door, and got back on the stairs. In a few minutes, they were at the door, and the woman stopped with her hand poised above the doorknob.

I don't know what we're going to see.

Ruby nodded, and the woman turned to knob. Already, a few nosy neighbors had their heads out of their doors, and their attention was on the open apartment door at the end of the hall. As they got closer, the woman sped up, until she was almost at a full run. A few of Sunny’s neighbors had their doors cracked, but only one had her head out. She was talking, fast and loud, into an old-style cordless phone. When she saw them, she covered the mouthpiece and motioned them over.

Lee, come.

What happened? Ruby's captor asked.

The old woman shook her head gravely. "Sunshine was attacked. Two matons with guns. She screaming, then she stop. I did not go in. I just call police."

Stay here.

As her captor rushed past the door, Ruby threw caution to the wind and followed her into the apartment of her old friend. When the young woman got to the bathroom, she stopped short at the door, just before a congealing pool of blood. The woman Ruby assumed was Sunny lie half naked on the uneven tiles, her body bruised and swelling fast; even from a few feet away, Ruby could see the boot prints as they began to show purple on her ribs. She bled from every visible orifice.

Sunny...

The exotic dancer’s blood-shot eyes rolled slowly up to meet hers. Ruby's captor bent down close, and rubbed one hand over Sunny’s sweat-damp hair.

Lee?

Who did this to you?

Run. Fluid rattled in Sunny’s lungs, and she coughed weakly. They’re looking for you and Josie.

I know. I'm sorry.

Go. Hurry.

Boots ran up behind then, and Lee jumped onto her feet, her fists balled for a fight. She spun to face the goons and found the paramedics standing behind her.

Whoa, easy, the woman in front of her said. We’re here to help.

Lee stepped out of the way and watched as the paramedics checked Sunny’s vital signs and covered her nudity. One tried to pull her aside, but she brushed his hand away.

We’d like to ask you about your friend, he said.

Lee shook her head. I just got here. You know as much as I do. You need to help her, she's dying!

Lee? Ruby said.

Her captor turned and met her eyes. For a moment, Ruby saw inside the gruff exterior, past the gun, the threats, and the swagger. Then, Lee's eyes hardened again—blackened like a shark's eyes—and she pulled Ruby by the hand away from the carnage in her friend’s bathroom. Ruby bumped against a table with a hip; she grabbed a picture frame just before it fell, and righted it before Lee gave her hand another tug. As they breached the doorway, Lee forced them both into a jog.

We have got to get the fuck out of here, was all she managed in way of explanation. Ruby matched her pace and squeezed her fingers in support as the two ran down the stairs and out of the building toward the safety of Ruby’s car.

––––––––

What happened up there? Josie asked as Ruby and Lee jumped back into the car.

Step on it, Lee told Ruby. She pulled the gun from her waistband, then laid it on the seat between them, her hand around its grip for good measure.

Ruby let out a whimper, started the car, and buckled her seatbelt. She put the car into gear and started out of the parking lot, away from the flashing lights, and sucked in the deepest breath she could to steady her erratic heart. What hospital can I take you to?

We're not going to the hospital. Lee's voice had turned to gravel, and the sound of it sent a tingle through Ruby's limbs. Lee tapped the gun on the seat between them; Ruby pressed herself against the door; any feeling she thought had passed between them in the apartment building was forgotten.

Why aren't we going to the hospital? Josie asked from the backseat. He had stretched himself as far as his long legs would allow. Ashen-faced, he could barely project his voice to the front seat.

Lee dropped her head. Sunny's dead. Or she will be by the end of the night. Eddie and his sicko buddies got to her, and they ... Ruby shot a glance at the passenger seat, and caught her as she swiped her empty hand across her eyes. She told me we needed to get out of town before he finds us.

Where are we going to go? Ruby asked.

Lee adjusted her grip on the gun, twisted in her seat, and stared out the window as the dark street passed. Where do you live?

Ruby gulped down the sweet, acidic taste of fear that boiled up from the bottom of her stomach as the road thumped beneath them. Northbridge. If Truman comes home and finds them in his pristine prison... She pushed the thought away; to dwell on it wouldn't change the fact that she had little power in the situation.

Lee nodded, and gestured with the gun. Northbridge, it is.

6

I'm telling you, Thresher, sometimes you just have to let things go, Cal continued, while Harry stared at her computer screen. She had spent the last few minutes steadfastly ignoring him, but her resolve grew weaker by the minute. She pushed the down arrow on her keyboard to scroll to the next screen, then typed information into the form-filling wizard. Paperwork wasn't her favorite thing to do, but with Cal yapping at her heels, she had to put her attention somewhere else.

Briggs leaned her head out of her office with the phone receiver still in her hand. Thresher, Gafferty, head south. I'm sending you the location of a homicide.

Harry saved her work for later, locked her computer, then hopped up and grabbed her coat. She walked toward the elevator while she slipped it on. Cal hopped up as she passed him and matched her stride. As they waited for the elevator, Harry's phone vibrated with the information from Briggs. They stepped onto the elevator, and Harry pulled her phone out. She made a face, then tucked her phone back into her pocket.

Bad neighborhood? Cal asked with a smirk.

Is there a good neighborhood left in this place? she asked as the doors closed on them and they started down.

A quarter of an hour had passed when they pulled up to the apartment building on the South side where a woman named Sunshine Sunny Galaviz took her last breath. Harry locked the car as they walked away from it, and Cal shot a furtive glance all around them.

This is worse than I thought, Cal said.

Harry pulled open the door to the building, and her hand came back moist. She wiped it on a handkerchief from her pocket. Once inside, she watched Cal pump the button for the elevator for only a moment before she walked over to the stairwell and opened the creaky door, careful this time to use the handkerchief as a barrier.

It's busted, she said, and indicated that she would follow him in. Once inside, she couldn't hide her repulsion at the dank, dripping walls and pervasive stench of urine that caught in her nostrils and wouldn't let go. This place is disgusting.

Yeah, Cal said, his long strides keeping him ahead of her. He towered over her by over a foot on flat ground; as he twisted around to look at her on the stairs, he had her by almost two feet. This kind of grime doesn't wash off with regular soap.

Harry snorted her agreement, and the two ascended the last of the stairs without saying another word. When they opened the door, Harry spotted the crime scene tape across the door of Sunny’s apartment, but her eyes landed on the open apartment across the hall. The dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra singing one of his classics floated down the narrow corridor.

Think whoever lives there saw anything? Cal asked.

Harry nodded. See if you can get the tenant to talk. I'm going to check out the scene.

You got it, boss lady, he said with a grimace. I'm not in any hurry to get in there.

They walked down the hall and parted ways at the open door. Cal knocked while Harry walked on the few feet to the taped-up door. The uniformed officer on guard at the door nodded at her as he stepped aside to let her in. She took note of the general destruction of the apartment as she walked through, and nodded at a young crime scene tech as she passed her. The girl's gaze lit on hers with a blushing grin; Harry made a mental note to ask the girl her name later.

She stepped around a cluster of evidence tents as she rounded a corner, and stopped just outside the blood-drenched bathroom. A trim older man in CSS gear squatted beside a pool of congealed blood with tweezers in his hand. He plucked something small, a fiber or hair, from underneath the overhanging lip of the vanity, and placed it into an evidence bag.

CSS Vinton, she said from the door.

His head swung up to look at her, and his ruddy face broke into a grin. Hey, there's my favorite detective, he said, and stood up. He dropped the sealed bag into the plastic tub beside him, peeled off his glove, and held out one freckled, olive hand to shake. It's good to see you're on this one, Harry. His face turned brooding, and his gaze fell to the giant blood pool beneath their feet. This was a heinous crime.

Harry shook his head and followed his gaze. I can see that. What can you tell me so far?

CSS Shoney Vinton took a deep breath. Well, I can tell you that no one was in the mood to clean anything up. We have a smorgasbord of evidence left on the scene. Fingerprints, hair, fibers, and semen have all been recovered so far, and we still have a long way to go. Miss Galaviz wasn't a particularly tidy housekeeper, we can tell that for sure, but by the time her attackers left her, they had destroyed any semblance of order she had put into place.

Insult to injury.

CSS Vinton nodded, and slipped on a new glove. He dropped back down and rifled through the evidence tub. When he stood again, he held a framed photo in a bag, which he handed over to her. One of the EMS guys said this woman was on the scene when they got here.

Harry inspected the evidence. The photo was splattered with blood, but she could still make out the picture of Sunny Galaviz with her arm around another woman in a friendly embrace. Harry recognized the other woman, but she didn't know from where, and made a mental note to follow up on that lead quickly.

Did she see it happen?

CSS Vinton shrugged and took the photo back. He put it back into the tub, and looked up at Harry. No one knows exactly what she was doing here. EMS said she was here when they came in. Door was open, and this girl was leaning over the body. She actually took a swing at them.

Harry whistled. Sounds like someone I need to get into an interrogation room.

When you do find her, we need some DNA, if only to rule out her contributions to this mess.

Harry nodded, gave him a friendly salute, and backed out of the room. Let me know if you find anything else you want to draw my attention to, she said.

He saluted back, then picked up his tweezers and went back to work. Harry dodged the evidence tents as she walked back out to the main living area of the apartment. Cal caught sight of her and swung his head at her to call her over to where he stood with the young, female CSS.

Detective Harry Thresher, this is CSS Klaudia Biznicki, he announced. The girl blushed when she caught Harry's eye.

You can call me Busy, the girl said, and held out a gloved hand to shake. It's so amazing to finally meet you, Detective Thresher. I've heard so much about you.

All good, I hope. Harry indicated the glove with a nod of her head. The girl dropped her hand, blushing, and peeled off her glove. Harry shook her hand with a grin. The pleasure is all mine.

Cal looked from one to the other, and his shoulders dropped. I was just telling CSS Biznicki -

Busy, the girl corrected him.

He cleared his throat. I was just telling Busy that we were going to be working this case. She says she will let us know anything she thinks might be important.

Oh, of course, the young woman answered, her eyes still on Harry. Anything you need, Detective Thresher, she said, her breath short and her face pink.

Harry gave her shoulder a pat. "I'm glad to hear that, Busy, since our departments work