Arran’s Obsession (Body Count, #1)
Arran’s Obsession: Chapter 32

A slow clap met our emergence from the lift, and I dropped my gaze, not meeting the eyes of Arran’s friends.

“Fuck off,” he said lightly. “Shade, call a lockdown of the crew. We’re mobilising.”

I peeked at him. “Are the Four Milers going to retaliate?”

“Maybe.”

“Will you close down the clubs?”

“No, it’s better to have the public here.” He gave a wolfish, cold smile. “Human shield, witnesses, whatever you want to call it.”

I shivered. Outside his office, Arran was immediately swamped by people needing things from him. He kept my hand clamped in his, but I tugged it to get his attention. I wanted to talk to him about what the gangster had said. That my dad was on some kind of job. I also knew now was not the time.

“I need a shower and to get changed. Then I’m going to see one of the dancers. Is that okay?”

“Who?”

“Dixie. She’s helping me with the Cherry thing.”

He watched me for a moment, then lifted his chin to someone behind us in the corridor. “I’m going to be busy for a while. Being upstairs will be safer, but Manny will stay close. Don’t fucking argue. Once you’re dressed, come to my office. I’ve got something for you.”

I kissed him, earning a darkening of his eyes that suggested approval of my act. Then with the chief of security in tow, I took the lift up to the eighth floor and stepped into Arran’s apartment. A quick shower later, and I blow-dried my hair then applied a fast layer of makeup, keeping track of the time. Dixie started work at ten, and by the time I’d slipped on a high-neck fuchsia-pink baby doll dress, I had thirty minutes.

Pink for Cherry, because tonight, I was getting answers.

Outside the apartment, Manny was waiting patiently, and the two of us travelled back down to Arran’s office. He knocked for me, and Arran opened the door. Over his shoulder, I spotted four or five men clustered on the visitor’s side of his desk. Brutal-looking thugs, skeleton crew bandannas around their necks, tattooed arms, and even a glimpse or two of a holstered weapon.

Arran joined me outside, a box in his hand. Manny stepped discreetly away.

I tilted my head at the office. “Did the other gang follow you? Are they here?”

“I brought in a few people. They’ll monitor the entrances and provide backup if needed.”

All because of me. Embarrassed, again, I hid my face in my hands. Arran pulled them away and made me look at him.

“Are you scared? Don’t be. The man whose blood I’m wearing was a minor upstart who picked a fight with the wrong person. I doubt anyone would go to war for him.”

“You said was. As in past tense?”

His expression gave away nothing. “Figure of speech.”

I chewed my lip. “That man asked how my dad was getting on in his job. If he knew, and he’s a minor player, that means Dad’s definitely in with them, isn’t he?”

He brushed a thumb over my cheek. “Perhaps. Now hold still.”

Opening the long box, he revealed an item of jewellery. A necklace, or more specifically a choker, with lines of glittering stones at the top and bottom edge of a wide band, maybe two inches deep. It stole a piece of my dismay, blinding me with its shimmer.

Arran brought it to my throat. “Lift that pretty hair.”

Why was it every command, even innocent ones, did things to my body? I did as he asked, and the gang lord clipped the broad choker around my throat.

I touched it. The band was a fine metal weave, light but strong. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s for me as much as you.”

I didn’t get a chance to ask what that meant as Arran kissed me with a sudden ferocity that stole my mind and my breath. Just like that, he was done and back to work with his gangster buddies, and I had an exotic dancer to replace.

In the lift, Manny checked our destination and pressed floor three.

“What’s on the other floors between three and eight?” I asked.

I wasn’t convinced I’d get an answer. People were tight-lipped around here, and I was still an outsider.

To my surprise, he readily gave up the information. “Floor four is a suite of private bedrooms. Five is where the cam girls work. Six is storage, and seven’s empty. On the other side, Divide’s high ceiling takes up four floors. For over two hundred years, this place was a bonded warehouse used for shipping. Did you know?”

He regaled me with facts until the lift doors opened, and we entered the corridor on the brothel floor. Blushing to think what Arran and I had done here, I trotted left on the plush carpet to the receiving room with the bar, drawing the attention of the first woman I saw. “Is Dixie around?”

“You’re Genevieve. Wow. It’s a pleasure. Follow me.”

The pretty woman with a London accent led me behind the bar, Manny keeping close at my back. Through a taproom, another corridor had a security room on one side and a dressing room to the other, several women readying themselves at brightly lit stations. Most wore very little, if anything. A degree beyond the strip club’s dressing room downstairs.

A topless Dixie hopped up and waved. “Perfect timing. Ooh, I love that choker. Come with me.”

She tucked her arm through mine, and together, we stepped into a side room with two sofas. Manny poked his head in then closed the door with him on the outside.

Dixie heaved a happy sigh. “Bitches be jealous that we’re besties.” She brushed her hand down her chest, then squinted down herself. “Oh, fuck. Titties are out. Sorry, hun. I didn’t even notice.”

I flapped a hand, unbothered. “Don’t worry, we’ve all got them.”

Her eyes brightened. “These are new. Do you like them? Cost me a bundle, but I made that back the first weekend I used them.”

In the past, I’d never thought it polite to stare at another woman’s body, particularly her nipples, but the opposite appeared to be required now. I took a good look at Dixie’s rack, perfectly round and high on her chest. She stuck them out and jiggled, proud and gleeful.

“If I was a dude, I’d be all over those.”

“Right?” She cackled. “These tits have fucked as many dicks as my vagina in the past couple of months. Makes a nice change and gives the old girl a break. Now let’s talk business. You need my help with hunting down your friend’s killer.”

My amusement dialled back. “I really appreciate it.”

“I’ve asked around, super subtly, of course. Our recruiter found out Cherry was a real lone wolf. She had a studio flat the other side of the main road from the churchyard where she worked.”

“So close to me.”

“Yeah? Well, she’d been there a couple of years, no family, only a pet cat. She paid her bills, minded her own business. Nothing more to tell.”

“What happened to her cat?”

“Aren’t you sweet? Her neighbour’s been feeding it since she heard Cherry died, but said she’ll catch it and take it to a rehoming centre.”

At least my friend had had someone to love. Dixie’s background information had given me nothing else, though. “The night before Cherry was killed, we were chatting, and she made a comment about her last client coming like an elephant. Quantity, she meant. She said he’d be coming back with a friend she didn’t like, so in my mind, they’re both suspects.”

Dixie considered that. “There are a lot of guys who overproduce like that. Got anything else to narrow it down?”

“Shit, yes. He’s a city councillor. She said that if he got her pregnant, he was well-off enough to foot the bill.”

Dixie nodded. “Suggesting she let him ditch the condoms, probably charging more for the right. Most street girls would never do that with a casual fuck, and if he was on her two days in a row, he was a regular. We have men who come here like clockwork, every day, the same girl. Got a phone?”

I held mine up.

“If he’s a councillor, that gives us a really good hit list. Bring up the council meeting schedule. See who was where that night.”

“We can do that?”

Dixie rubbed her hands together. With her help, I navigated to Deadwater city council’s website and into their meeting list.

“The city councillors are often in evening meetings or engagements,” she explained. “We can check the agenda to see who was meant to be there, then read the minutes to see if they stayed until the end. It’s all accounted for because it’s public spending. For example, there’s a full council meeting this evening which finishes at nine-thirty. Right about now. In half an hour, two or three of the members will be here, looking for their favourite girl.”

My pulse skipped. That gave us about ten minutes to prepare.

Dixie pulled up the meeting list from the night Cherry was killed. Two had gone on late.

I grabbed a pen and paper from the desk. “First, I need to write out a list of all the council members.”

She rattled off the names of nine men and two women.

I goggled at her. “How do you know that?”

She shrugged a slender, bare shoulder. “I hear things. Sometimes they stick. Oh, don’t forget Mayor Makepeace. Cherry might have used the term ‘councillor’ for him as well.”

That gave a list of ten.

Cherry had been murdered between nine and ten PM, according to the brief news article I’d read. Next, we went through the two council engagements.

“Look, this environment one was a dinner with a live band. It went on until eleven.” Dixie leaned over my phone and pressed a link which loaded a page of photos. “Ooh, party time. I remember this now, because a couple of them turned up here in tuxes. It says here that the band performed at ten, so all these people dancing, we can cross off the list.”

I nodded, following her train of thought. “There’s no way they could have killed someone then got to a dinner dance in time to be photographed.”

She pointed at me. “Bingo.”

A sort through the photos of a sparkling evening removed four names from the list, including the two female councillors who were there with their husbands.

I mused on the remainder. “I think we can cross the mayor off as well. He’s there in the photos.”

Dixie shook her head, her curls flying. “Not so hasty. He’s at the dinner table, but we don’t see him dancing. It doesn’t say if he left early, but let’s not jump the gun.”

“Okay, let’s check out the other meeting. This one’s for traffic and transport.”

“Ugh. Those old boys are the worst. Their meetings nearly always involve them getting drunk at the end. It takes forever to make them come after.”

At least they had a good notetaker, though. It allowed another two names to be removed.

I read out what was left. “Mayor Makepeace, and councillors Tony Hatchett, Anton Blake, and Benjamin Slaughter. One of them must have been Cherry’s client. Do all of them come here?”

Dixie nodded. “You bet your ass. Ninety percent of that category of businessmen in this city use our services in one way or another. Some have girls go to their office or homes. Some come here. They don’t stroll in the front door, or arrive via the strip club, if that’s what you’re thinking. There’s a coded entrance on the west side of the warehouse. It leads to a lift that brings them right on up. The discreet way in.” She considered the list. “Actually, I think we can take one more off of that.” Her glossy red nail tapped the second name.

“Councillor Tony Hatchett,” I read.

“He has a deal with a couple of our girls to exchange sexual favours for accountancy help. He’s a finance guy.”

“Why does that mean we can cross him off?”

“Cherry told you that if her elephant cum guy got her pregnant, he could help her financially, right? Hatchett is the worst cheapskate. One of those who wears his poverty on his sleeve, something to do with his religion. He drives a clapped-out piece-of-junk car that often breaks down in the city, and lives by himself in a mobile home. There’s no way Cherry would think he was loaded.”

I struck through his name. “Dixie, you’re amazing.”

She preened and pretended to flip her hair. “Anything for a bit of fun.”

“That leaves only three.”

Dixie took a deep breath. “And only a few minutes until one or all of them arrive, with any luck.”

“How do we, er, test them?”

She pulled a face. “As far as I can tell, there’s only one way to narrow it down. Whichever girl they pick is going to have to somehow save their deposit. Scoop up that cum. At the end, we can compare notes.”

Our game was in play.

Dixie directed me to follow her then left me in the security office, a two-way mirror giving a view of the receiving room and a guard at a CCTV station.

Through the mirror, I watched her skitter over and spread the word about what we were doing to the women she thought needed to know. It was risky. If word got back to the men involved by someone with a big mouth, the reputation of the club was at stake.

Then the councillors arrived, obvious because Dixie made a gesture for me to pay attention to the men on the end.

One was fifty-something, in a smart suit, with mid-brown hair and no sign of grey. The second was younger and had a neat wedge of pale-blond hair and round glasses.

The councillors took drinks and sex workers down the corridor. Then there was nothing for me to do but wait.

But by eleven, the women who’d serviced two of the three on my list returned.

Dixie hustled the sexual partner of each into our little sitting room. They gawked at me, two identical women who’d handled councillor Blake, and a busty brunette who’d been councillor Slaughter’s choice for the night.

Dixie regarded them with a stern glare. “Any talk of what I asked of you, and what you’ve done, will not leave this room. Alisha will fire you faster than a bullet. Now gimme the goods.”

The first of the twins reached into her bra and extracted a filled and tied-off condom.

I hid my recoil. This was their livelihood, but the sight of some slimy guy’s sperm did nasty things to my stomach.

“After he watched us, he wanted us both to blow him, but I begged him to fuck me,” the first twin said. “He had his face all up in Minnie’s business, otherwise I’m sure he would have questioned why I put this on him. Luckily, we all came away happy.”

The brunette smiled in success and pulled out another condom. “Slaughter wanted to fuck my tits, so I let him, then scooped it all up into here. Took a bit of effort. You owe me. He’s down in the voyeur rooms now and he wants me to join him.”

Dixie took both and held them up, tapping and squeezing the latex to settle the contents. “Am I imagining it, or is the one on the right noticeably fuller?”

I angled my head. “You’re right. That’s councillor Slaughter. But we’ve only got two samples. If the other guy is underperforming, anyone would look like they had more against him.”

Dixie took a rushed inhale. “We need more samples. Girls, you know the drill.”

The three hustled out, returning again in what felt like no time with fresh samples, this time from regular guys.

Again, Dixie lined them all up.

We waited for the contents to settle.

There was no denying it. Of all the filled condoms, Councillor Slaughter’s cum volume was noticeably greater than all the others.

My heart sped.

Dixie let the women go with thanks and a promise of secrecy. Then the two of us sat back. On my phone, I searched for a picture of the councillor in question, a more formal version of the man I’d seen through the mirror.

“Am I looking at a killer?” I asked. “It still could have been one of the other two, if they were the friend he was taking along. Either way, it’s possible.”

“I don’t know, hun. What’s your plan now you have the information?”

I didn’t have much, only one small clue, a piece of evidence that wouldn’t stand up in court. Then again, I didn’t live in a world where the law mattered so much anymore. “What would a real-life detective do?”

Dixie clicked her fingers. “Establish a motive. If he murdered Cherry, it was for a reason.”

She was right. I needed to talk to Arran.

Out in the dressing room, I waved goodbye to the assembled sex workers and exited to the receiving room, Manny with me and Dixie seeing me to the bar.

A collection of men arrived at the same time, exiting the lift together and all in expensive suits like they’d left the same meeting to come straight here. Women flocked to greet them.

From the back of the pack, a woman approached, not staff, I knew in an instant, despite her tight dress of black lace with a wide brown leather belt, her killer rack, and a tumble of brunette curls. She was gorgeous and definitely out of place.

Dixie stepped forward, toe pointed and straight into seduction mode. “Hey, there. Seems I’m not going to win the title for prettiest titties on the floor tonight. Looking for someone like me, baby girl? We could have a lot of fun.”

The woman blinked and passed a nervous hand over her chest. “Um, thanks? Your breasts are lovely, too, but it’s actually her I want.”

She indicated to me.

Manny exhaled through his nose. “This woman isn’t on offer tonight. My apologies, ma’am. Dixie can help you choose⁠—”

“No! I didn’t mean for…that.” Her gaze roamed my face. “You’re Genevieve, is that right?”

“I am.”

“Oh good. I’d really love to talk to you. My name’s Everly.”

I gave her the once-over in return. Her clothes were well made and her styling impeccable. Nothing about her screamed weirdo. Even so, I was cautious. “Walk with me and Manny. Dixie, catch you later.”

With Everly falling into step, we crossed the receiving room.

“How did you know my name?” I asked.

“People talk. I’m in a position where I hear a lot. I’m actually here to talk to you on behalf of my father, though. He’s the mayor of Deadwater. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

I fought to stop my jaw from dropping. Not half an hour ago, I’d been considering him a murder suspect. “I’ve never had the pleasure,” I managed. “What kind of man is he?”

She dropped her voice. “I can’t really say. It’s actually Connor I want to discuss.”

“Who?”

“Tattooed, works for your boyfriend?”

I never had got to the bottom of the names of Arran’s crew. My money was on Connor being Convict. The connection snapped into place in my head, pity swiftly following. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, he never would. He’s the best.” She gave a small huff of breath. “Not that he’ll talk to me. I applied to go into the game, like you.”

My heart thumped. “You actually wanted to do it?”

Her cheeks reddened. “I mean, no? Maybe. I just wanted to get his attention.”

“Girl, same. I needed to talk to Arran and found myself in there.”

“No!” She cupped my elbow. “Are you okay?”

At last, someone had asked. I liked Everly in a fast instant. “Not one other person wondered that, but yes. I am.”

We’d made it to the lift that would take us down to the office corridor. Manny frowned and touched his finger to his ear, listening to something.

Instantly, my back was up. This floor felt safe. No gang member could get up here easily, and Manny had men posted discreetly here and there. Downstairs was another story. I should be there. Not hiding from any danger that might replace those I’d started to care about.

“What is it?” I asked him.

His gaze came to me. “There’s a disturbance in Divine. A distressed woman shouting your name.”

“She’s shouting for me?” I cast my mind over the women I knew who weren’t members of this club. Or more specifically, those who were interested in me. I came up blank, then suddenly remembered Cassie. She was missing. Perhaps it was her. “Is it safe to go check it out?”

“I believe so. Arran’s occupied right now, but I have a team in the room.”

I came back to Everly. “I’m sorry but I need to go.”

“Of course. I knew this was a bad idea. Never mind.”

She appeared so dejected, I paused.

“Give me your phone number and we can talk another time.”

A little brighter, Everly riffled through her clutch to hand me a small card. Fancy. I took it, then the lift arrived and Manny and I were descending fast.

On the office corridor, we fast-walked to the strip club. In the middle of the open floor, a woman about my age swung around, the contents of her glass slopping.

She had her blonde hair loose in a spill down her back, just like mine, and a black dress, similar to the one Arran had cut off me.

Not Cassie at all. It was Natasha Reid.

The woman who should’ve been in the game but whose place I stole. I’d only seen her once on the video call I’d made to apologise, but her physical likeness to me was undeniable.

“It should’ve been me,” she howled, her New York accent thick. “I’d clean up this place. You’re all fucking dirty, do you hear? All you disgusting men who come in here with your dirty thoughts need to replace Jesus.”

To one side of the room, Alisha looked on, arms folded and her expression pinched. Lara stood beside her with a collection of waitresses behind. On the stage, the dancers had stopped to watch Natasha’s meltdown, and the packed tables of men grumbled about the interruption.

I crossed to Alisha. Manny might’ve filled me in, but this wasn’t my territory. It was hers.

Alisha flicked her gaze to me. “More trouble with your name on it.”

Lara tucked her tray under her arm. “She arrived ten minutes ago, already drunk. I refused her service because she was rolling, but she grabbed a glass off a tray then started yelling at everyone. And calling for you.”

“She said my name?”

“A few times. Know her?”

“Not really. We spoke once, but that was it.” I scrunched up my nose.

Natasha continued her rant, targeting a group at a table. She’d called me out for having another agenda with the game. Was this hers?

“Pipe down, girl,” one man snarked back.

“Don’t you dare talk to me, you whore user. Go replace a real woman.” She wheeled around to the stage. “As for all you sluts on the poles, I hope you slide down on your diseased juices and break your necks.”

Outrage filled me. I snapped my focus to Alisha. It was on the tip of my tongue to challenge her on doing something about this, but her expression pulled me up short. The chief of operations appeared afraid.

“Where’s Shade?” She wrung her hands. “He’s second-in-command. He needs to be here.”

I summoned a smile. “I’ll handle it.”

Alisha’s shoulders crept up. “You want to play boss and be the woman in the manager’s seat, go for it.”

I stepped forward, sensing Manny moving with me. “Natasha? What the hell are you doing?”

She sought me out, her focus wide and her classy appearance a shambles. “Genevieve, there you are. Should’ve known your thief and liar self wouldn’t be far from these parts.”

“Wait up. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is this place is a sickening hellhole filled with filth and needs to be shut down. All of you are sinners.”

“Watch your mouth.” I glowered at her, my blood hot. “Don’t you dare come in here with that shitty attitude and abuse the people who work here.”

“Me dare? How about you daring to take the place that should’ve been mine? You stole that from me. I would’ve been his, and I’d be the queen of this club, taking control and cleaning up shop. Hear me?”

“Unfortunately,” I intoned. “But there’s one problem with that. You didn’t get him, and your thoughts on what happens in this business are irrelevant.”

She made an angry sound and stamped her expensive heel. “You’re the one who’s going to be irrelevant.”

I gave her a soft, deadly smile. “Is that a threat? Out loud in front of all these good people? Let me tell you something, Natasha. Every single one of the dancers and staff members in this club are worth a hundred of you. You lost out because you deserved that fate. I really believe that.”

Lara whistled. “Right on, sister. You tell her.”

I glanced over. Even Alisha cracked a smile.

Only a few weeks ago, I would’ve pitied the women who worked here and assumed they were oppressed or had no choice but to sell their bodies. Now, I knew they were businesswomen, working an asset. They had skills I could only dream of, thoughts and ambitions. Fuck her for judging them.

I swung back to the crazed woman. “And another thing⁠—”

Behind her, a figure crossed the room, a woman holding a Divine drinks tray, the black-and-pink staff uniform nipping tight at her waist. Her hair was loose and forward over her face, but she lifted her head to throw me a meaningful glance.

Moniqua, my brother’s girlfriend.

My words stalled. If she was here, then was Riordan? Or worse, her cousin, Don? My brother would be in danger, but it would be the reverse if Don had decided to pay a visit. He’d be part of a Four Milers revenge act, undoubtedly.

Moniqua gave a single shake of her head and cut her gaze at the side exit of the club. Then she slipped out of sight behind a row of tables.

At the end of the room, the doors to Divine burst open.

Men stormed in.