Many of you send me emails asking why, if this is a completed story, don't I post the chapters quicker? Well, let me back track a little. I dreamt up this story a couple of years ago while driving and listening to Rob Zombie. (music plays a huge part in my writing, even Rob Zombie, lol.) And I envisioned a tall, dark and fiercely sexy woman walking through a throbbing night club wearing black leather. And that was how it started. Since then, I had written about half the story only to have it completely erased from my computer about six months ago when my laptop went haywire. What a nightmare that was! And I only had the first two chapters saved on floppy. So, I have recently stopped crying and started rewriting, which is what you are reading now. I do have a copyright on the story, which I did when I first dreamt it up. Soooo, I hope that clears some things up for you. I appreciate all your emails, so keep them coming! I do my best to answer all your questions. Thanks for your kind words and support!
Ronica

Sunday, July 13^th 11:15pm
La Femme
 

The tall blonde stood staring at the security monitors, each one flashing a different location, all capturing the same moment in time. She focused on the one monitor in particular that held her attention. She squinted at the grainy image, wishing she could zoom the lens in closer to get a better look.

Liz sat straddling her bike, facing the cute blonde she herself had first lay claim to. She watched as Liz leaned in for a kiss and she was surprised at how gentle it appeared. Tenderness was not something she had experienced with her dark friend. Sex between them had always been incredible and powerful, an erotic battle between them. A moment of soft, tender kisses would have no place in their battle ground. But it didn't mean that it wasn't something she had wished for.

"Christ." She walked away from the monitors and flopped down on the couch. Here she was, tense, worried and panicked, while Liz was off fucking another stranger, another conquest. But why should she be surprised? This was how it always was, always had been. She was always the one that got left doing the dirty work, or the sweeping up of others dirty work, while Liz focused on her own needs and wiped her hands clean of everything.

She got up and paced the room, too worked up to sit still. She was quickly growing weary of Liz and her dictatorship, ruled with absolute power and nonchalance. Kristen knew she was the one who should be running things. She was the one who cared, who thought things through, who paid attention to every last detail. And what did she have to show for it? Nothing. Not a thing. A shitty job tending bar, maybe the occasional bit part in one of Liz's movies. Hell, she didn't even have Liz. And if she was honest with herself, that was what she really wanted, regardless of how unobtainable she knew the woman was. But it was so easy to fall for her, to kid yourself into thinking that you were the one who could change her. To get her to settle down, to be the one to finally reach her.

Liz was the reason Kristen had gotten involved in this mess in the first place. Because there was a time, not so long ago, when she would've done anything for the woman.

But not now. Now, she wanted control, and she wanted out. And she was the only one who could take care of things.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Liz stood in the doorway, her hands clenched by her sides.

Kristen turned and smiled coyly. "Waiting for you, darling."

"How'd do you get in here?" She slammed the door closed and walked over to look at the monitors, her gaze focused on the same one Kristen had been watching moments earlier.

"You think I don't know your little code to the door?" She scoffed, but Liz was ignoring her.

Liz continued to stare at the monitor, watching as the white car drove out of the parking lot.

"So did you fuck her yet?" Whoever the cute blonde was, she sure had Liz's full attention.

Liz clenched her jaw at the comment, her fury growing. "None of your fucking business."

Kristen laughed and flopped down on the couch. "Whoa, guess that answers my question." Liz was especially touchy on the subject and Kristen wondered what was going on with the blonde. No one turned Liz down, especially in the bedroom. "Serves you right you know. Especially since I saw her first." She crossed her arms over her chest, watching the dark woman.

Liz turned and faced the annoyance sitting on her couch. "What are you doing here Kris? Can't you see I'm busy?" Her voice was low, a fierce grumble.

"We need to talk."

Liz sighed and tossed her keys on the counter. "About what?"

"What do you think?" Kristen's voice was high pitched, her emotions tightly strung.

Liz walked into the adjoining room, untucking her shirt as she walked. "There's nothing to talk about."

"The hell there isn't!"

Liz turned, her eyes ablaze but her voice still low and calm. "Will you quit being a princess and tell me what it is that has you so excited?"

"Oh, well at least I finally got your attention." Kristen resented how calm Liz was, how calm she always was. If she hadn't felt it first hand she would wonder if the woman even had a pulse. Nothing ever seemed to worry her. With the exception of her incredible temper and even more incredible sex drive, Kristen had never seen Liz get excited. The more she thought about it, the more it infuriated her. "While you were off playing with blondie, I was stuck here with the cops up my ass!"

Liz walked slowly back into the room, her face tight, the muscles in her arms coiled. "What happened?"

"They were here, asking me questions, talking to some of our girls, some of the customers." Her voice quivered a little as she spoke. "And where the fuck were you? Off on a date? Since when do you date Liz?"

The blue eyes glinted with anger. "What I do and with whom is my own business and you would be wise to remember that." Kristen was coming close to lighting a very dangerous fuse.

"It is my business." Kristen demanded, although less loudly. She was becoming angry herself but she knew she was pushing it talking to Liz like she was. "Especially when you leave me here to cover for you. You think I wouldn't rather be off fucking that blonde instead of here, answering to the police?"

"Her name is Katherine." Liz seethed.

"What's with you?" Why was she so caught up and concerned about this woman? Didn't she hear what she had said? "And since when do you give a fuck what somebody's name is?"

"Since now." The statement was a warning. Her jaw was set and she stood looking at Kristen, a vein in her neck pumping the hot blood of a rising temper.

Kristen studied her long time friend carefully. She knew she should tread lightly, but the circumstances had pushed her beyond rational behavior. Even though it was dangerous to act so irrationally, she couldn't seem to stop herself. Why couldn't she just get up and walk out of the room, leave Liz alone to face the demons that were chasing them all?

She remained seated, fear halting her flight. Fear of the police, fear of Liz's uncaring demeanor. Kristen didn't know what it would take to get her to see the seriousness of their situation. And why was her friend so distracted? She looked into her blue eyes and noted their anger. Liz was pissed at her, that much was clear. But there was something else there too. Distance. It was as if she were looking right her, her thoughts somewhere else altogether.

The woman. It was the woman. She had never seen Elizabeth Adams like this over a woman. It was as if the police and the investigation were mere gnats, something she could swat at and easily handle. An annoyance in her own rosy world of romance. She quickly thought back and realized that she had never seen Liz leave the club to take a woman out before. In the past, her dates stayed with her at the club or they went out when the club was closed. But never had she seen Liz drop everything and escort a woman out of the crowded club.

"Jesus, this Katherine, she's gotten to you hasn't she?" Kristen couldn't believe it, but here she was witnessing it. It was finally happening, Liz was smitten.

The dark woman stood in silence for a moment, trying to swallow back her anger. The words stung and she didn't know what made her more angry, the fact that the words were true or the fact that she could be so easily read. Katherine Chandler had gotten to her. Whether she wanted it to happen or not, it had. The woman wasn't intimidated by her in the least and Liz found that she was drawn to the writer's fearlessness and her spunk. Something she hadn't ever experienced with another woman. Liz was used to being easily dominate over hundreds of easily impressed, almost star struck women. But it wasn't like that with Katherine and she knew Kristen could never understand.

"Like I said before, my personal life is none of your business." Her tone made it clear that Kristen needed to back off, otherwise there would be hell to pay.

"Whatever. Just make sure you don't get so far into her that you forget that there are things here that need to be taken care of."

"Like what?" She scoffed and looked at her nails, quickly becoming tired of Kristen and her exaggerations of their problems.

"The police for starters!"

"They're bluffing." Liz sat down, seemingly bored and propped her feet up on the coffee table. "They don't have anything on us, that's why they're doing what they're doing. To shake us up."

"I don't give a flying fuck why they're doing it! I want out."

Liz laughed at the over reaction. "Out? Out of what? Jesus Kris, I really had more respect for you than this. You're doing exactly what they want you to do. Show some balls for God's sake."

"What about Jay?" The question was asked in a frantic whisper, her voice lowered at the importance of the question.

Liz raised her eyes up to once again meet those of her friend.

"What about her?" She was still calm but clearly annoyed.

"She's out of control, fucking insane. I just don't even know what she'll do next." Kristen grabbed her temples, her hands shaking, her nerves on edge.

Liz placed her feet firmly on the ground and leaned forward on the couch, her voice low and completely serious. "Jay will be fine, you will be fine. Just relax."

"I can't do this anymore." She shook her head in defiance, her friend's words doing little to comfort her. "I'm bailing." She stood as she spoke.

"No, you aren't." Liz stood too, squaring her shoulders. "You can't."

"Look, I know I made promises and I'll honor them. I'll take care of everything, make it all go away. And then I'll be free to get out."

"You can't Kris, you won't." Liz clenched her jaw and walked over to the tall blonde. She grabbed her shoulders, wanting desperately to shake some sense into her.

"We'll see about that." Kristen looked her dead in the eye and shook out of the restraint. She turned and walked hastily out of the room, leaving Liz alone to stare through the open door after her.

Liz walked back over to the monitors and stared aimlessly at the flickering gray images. She eyed her keys on the counter, grabbed them and then slammed the door behind her. She needed to go for a ride.

…… ….. ….. ….. …… ……. …….. ……. ……. …….. …… ….. …….. ……
 

Monday, July 14^th 5:46am
 

Patricia Henderson awoke to the white face of her dog. He was lying on her chest, wagging his tail, wanting her to get up and join him in welcoming the morning sun.

"Jack, come on, not today." She pleaded with him hopelessly as she stretched. But instead of complying, he bounced from her chest and began hopping in circles amongst all the covers.

"Oh alright." She pushed the covers back and rose to yank on her swimsuit. Jack was a morning dog, rising each and every morning with the sun. It was just as well, she hadn't been able to sleep too well anyhow. Jack sprung from the bed and ran down the hallway ahead of her.

She hadn't arrived home until late the night before, and didn't climb into bed until after midnight. Opening the back door, she inhaled the warm, awakening air. It was muggy, a drastic change from the dry heat Valle Luna was notorious for and that only meant one thing. The storms would start soon. Every summer the valley was hit hard with monsoon rain and wind, and she knew they would probably have their first cloud build up this evening.

She stood before the pool and stretched, trying to slowly wake her body up from the fitful slumber the night had brought. The evening before had been crazy, emotional and not near as fruitful as she had hoped. As soon as she had seen Adams walk out of the club with Mac, she and a few other female detectives had started questioning some of the women in the club. It was done mainly to ruffle some feathers, but she still had held out hope that someone would have some inside information. But to her dismay, no one claimed to know anything. They never did. Elizabeth Adams was one of the most protected people Henderson had ever known. The women all worshipped her, respected her and lusted after her.

She dipped her foot in the pool as she thought about watching Mac and Adams in the parking lot. She dove in the less than cold water, hoping it would wash away the memory of the lingering kiss she had witnessed.

…… …… ……. ……. ……. ……… …….. …….. ……… ……… ……..
 

9:00 am
 

Henderson walked into the conference room and sat next her long time partner, Gary Jacobs. He greeted her with a short smile and pushed a cup of coffee her way.

"Thanks. We got anything new?"

Gary was busy scribbling notes in his notebook.

"A new hair." He said in his monotone voice.

"Found on our last victim, on Bale?" Excitement lifted her voice, reminding her why she loved detective work.

"Forensics gave us the report on it this morning."

She could tell by his lack of enthusiasm that the hair must not be a match to Adams or Reece, their two prime suspects.

"So, it doesn't have a source."

"Not one that we know about." He stopped writing and handed her the report. "The lab says it's a short, dark brown hair, non pubic in origin, most likely Caucasian, partial root in tact."

"But we don't know yet if it's from a male or female." She stated softly as she scanned the report.

"Not yet, but they are going to try to extract DNA. I wouldn't get your hopes up though."

"Which will take weeks." She sighed in defeat and looked up as Jeff Hernandez and Martin Stewart walked into the room.

"Look at it this way Henderson. Someone finally screwed up and left us a crumb."

She shook her head in agreement and wondered who the mysterious hair could belong to. She thought back to the club, to some of Adam's cronies. Could the hair belong to one of them? Was there a third party? None of the evidence they had before this suggested a third suspect. There were only witnesses claiming to have seen the victims with a tall blonde, closely resembling Kristen Reece. And then of course there were the witnesses who heard Adams verbally threaten the victims. That was it. That was all they had.

The room was unusually quiet and Henderson felt like a zombie. The lack of sleep she had been experiencing was quickly catching up to her. She had been on auto pilot the past few days and she had to force herself to look up from the mesmerizing grain of the conference table and focus on Sergeant Ruiz.

"Good morning everyone." He greeted, not so happily, sounding like another person who had the Monday morning blues. They all grumbled their returns and he began his usual pacing as he talked.

"I've spoken with Mac just this morning and she tells me that things are going well and as planned."

Henderson glanced down at the briefings before her. Transcripts of the conversations between Mac and Adams played out before her on paper. It seemed Mac had tested the waters with Adams, a gutsy move on her part. And even more surprising was the fact that Adams had kept her cool. But what disturbed her was the story the transcripts didn't tell. Mac had removed the wire to swim with Adams and the thought of Mac swimming in that romantic lagoon with Adams made her blood boil. Whatever happened in the pool had led to the kiss she had witnessed in the parking lot. Or maybe there had been more kissing in the pool. She shook her head at the disturbing thoughts.

She refocused on her sergeant, knowing she was too involved emotionally in this case. She tried her best not to think about Adams seducing Mac and vice versa, but everywhere she turned she was faced with these scenarios. And more than anything, she worried for Mac's safety and emotional well being.

"I have some news for you all." He tossed some photos down on the table. "These are subpoenaed photos from Elizabeth Adam's surveillance cameras in La Femme. If you'll look closely you'll see Adams is present in all of them. And if you'll note the date and time you'll see that each photo clears Adams of the last murder. She was at her club the night Jonathan Bale was killed."

Various curse words were mumbled from each detective as they looked at the photos.

"What about Reece? Was she there?" Jacobs asked.

"No, not that we can see. Which, frankly folks is the only God Damned reason we still have a case!" He threw one of the files down on the floor as his temper got the better of him. "Otherwise we would have nothing, absolutely nothing! So you better hope to God that Reece wasn't in that club on the night of the murder."

"This still doesn't clear Adams of being involved." Henderson spoke up, more terrified that Adams was slipping away from them than she was of Ruiz's temper.

Ruiz had begun pacing again, which he quickly stopped doing to look at her. "We didn't have much to start with Henderson, and now we have even less! No D.A. will want to touch this! We got nothing, nothing on Adams! And she knows it!"

Henderson jerked at his high volume. He was right, no one would prosecute on this little evidence.

More grumbles followed from the other frustrated dics before Stewart spoke up. "We gotta get one of her girls to talk. Reece, we gotta go after Reece." His cigarettes were back in his breast pocket and Henderson wondered just how long he had been able to go without lighting up. Given the present circumstances she thought briefly about asking for one herself.

"I agree." Ruiz said, a little more calmly. He started pacing again. "But if she doesn't talk, we're screwed. Forensics found nothing on Bale, nothing that points to Adams."

The detectives threw out suggestions and ideas while Henderson leafed through some papers until she found the lab reports on Jonathan Bale, their last victim. The autopsy confirmed the GHB and horse tranquilizer they had found present in their other victims. Cause of death was the same. Shot in the head with a nine millimeter. Ballistics confirmed the bullet matched the same gun as the other two. Four stab wounds to the groin. Most likely done very soon after death given the lack of blood. Very little trace fiber evidence, most of which could be explained, all except for one hair. A single strand of dark hair, which didn't match Adams or Reece and couldn't be linked with anyone Bale knew. If she found the source of the hair, their questions would be answered.

"Ok, what's our plan?" Ruiz clapped his hands together and held them tight before answering his own question. "We go after Reece, squeeze her and hope something drips out. In the meantime, we are watching our two other possible victims, fellow friends of Bale and the last of the remaining group that Adams had threatened.

Henderson knew he was referring the only two remaining arc enemies of Elizabeth Adams. Thomas Rourke and Scott Bartch, both attorneys.

"If the girls go after these guys, they'll have to be invisible for us not to see them."

"What about Mac?" Henderson asked softly, silently wishing they would pull her out.

"She stays under. I've already spoken with her and she's willing to remain." Ruiz concluded their meeting and the detectives rose, eager and excited at the prospect of going after Reece.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….. ……. …….. …….. …….. ……… ……
 

3:37pm
 

Erin picked up her cell phone and popped in a freshly charged battery. She hadn't realized until today that her phone had been dead. As it sounded back to life, it alerted her that she had a voice message. She put the phone to ear and listened as Mark's voice spoke to her, returning her call. He sounded the same as he always did, concerned but not really caring. He informed her that his meetings in Austin went well and he would be home sooner than originally expected. But he needed to cover for some colleagues and he didn't think she would get to see him anytime soon.

She deleted the message and set the phone down. She wondered how much of the message was true and how much was bullshit. She never knew anymore. She briefly considered calling him back but then decided against it. She didn't have anything to say to him and she wondered back to why she had called him in the first place. To end things. Yes that was why. She laughed to herself at the thought. Things were already ended.

It was funny how quickly her mind had been invaded with other, bigger things since she had first started this case. Mark seemed so trivial to her now and it had only been a couple of days since she had found the credit card statement. She was simply numb, shut off, like a robot, intently focused on the task at hand. And frankly, she was better off that way.

She sat down and picked up her book. She was finishing up Katherine Chandler's latest and Erin found that she was easily engrossed in the emotions of the women and the raw desire they felt for one another. Her thoughts would briefly go to Henderson and how talented she truly was to be able to create such realistic characters who shared such passion. Erin could only long to be graced by such passion and she closed her eyes and wondered who had elicited such feelings in Henderson. After all, one would have to experience such incredible feelings in order to write about them, wouldn't they? Perhaps not. Perhaps Henderson was just like her. Lonely, wanting, needing. She opened her eyes, feeling very alive at the thought of Henderson and what it would be like if she wanted and needed from her.

The roses greeted her from the coffee table, accompanied by the yellow bouquet that had arrived earlier that morning. They had arrived by the same delivery boy, harboring another simple message from Adams.

Your kiss still lingers on my lips.

The card had made her unconsciously touch her own lips, the kiss from the previous night replaying in her mind. Never before had she experienced such power in a single kiss. Its ability to make her feel so many different things on so many different levels, astonished her. The kiss was tender, warm, sweet. Yet it was teasing and tantalizing, causing desire and heat to flood through her body. She had wanted more of the kiss, wanted to probe with her tongue, to suck the sweetness from the taller woman's lips. And just as she was thinking of Adams and her kiss, she had been interrupted.

Soon after the flowers had arrived she had received a phone call from Adams. Their conversation had been brief, yet soft.

Adams had spoken to her in her deep, seductive voice, beckoning her back to the club on Wednesday night. She had wanted to see Erin sooner, but Erin knew she needed to keep her distance while her colleagues attempted to corner Reece. Ruiz had made it clear to her that she was to stay away from Adams until Wednesday. So she agreed to meet Adams at La Femme on Wednesday night. And Adams reluctantly agreed to wait that long and informed her that it was leather night and that she couldn't wait to see her dressed in leather.

The conversation had left Erin sporting another deep blush and she hung up more than little excited for Wednesday to arrive.

The remainder of the day was spent lounging around allowing her to get caught up on some much needed rest. She glanced down at the book, ready to once again delve into it's plot.

The house phone rang, distracting her. "Hello?"

"Mac?" It was Henderson and she sounded worked up. "Don't worry, the boys said your line was still clear."

"Ok.What's up?"

"Has Kristen Reece contacted you?"

The question surprised her. "You mean outside the club?" She sat up a little, the conversation demanding some attention.

"Yes."

"No, why?"

"She's missing. We arrived at her place with a warrant for her arrest before noon today and her place is thrashed and she's nowhere to be found."

"What about surveillance? Wasn't someone watching her?" She couldn't believe that one of their prime suspects had just disappeared.

"Off and on. . It was costing a fortune to keep her and Adams under constant surveillance, and since they were mainly at the club, the team starting solely watching La Femme. And somehow, she slipped out last night to go home around the same time as Adams, and our boys followed her home and then concentrated back on Adams.”

“And now Reece is gone.” Erin finished for her. “Maybe she’ll be back. She’s wild, maybe she went off for fun or…”

“Mac.” Henderson interrupted.

“What?”

“There’s blood all over her apartment.”

to be continued....