Red Silk Scarf (6 page)

           
Before closing the door, “I
promise.
 
Thanks, Curly.
 
Goodnight,” Cassidy whispered blowing a kiss
that permeated his heart.

The instant her
door closed, trembling seized Ben.
 
Scrambling to his apartment induced a sweat that sought the path of
gravity dripping maddeningly down his forehead, armpits and chest.
 
Shaking hands made it impossible to focus on
the keys clinking together, then when they unexpectedly fell to the floor the
ear piercing sound made him clench his fists to keep from screaming.
  
 

It took longer to
arrive at the apartment than Ben anticipated.
 
A torturous journey considering he was desperately trying to conceal
symptoms of drug withdrawal.
 
By the
time, the tumble of the lock allowed entrance his teeth were chattering, each
staggering step toward the bedroom making nerve endings bleed from
rawness.
 

           
Frantically jerking open the dresser
drawer spilled the contents onto the floor, an incident that irritated him
further and hurled profanities into the air.
 
Sharply coming to his knees, hands madly sifted through the pile until
finding the quarter kilo that cost thousands of dollars.
 
Plunging his hand into his pocket scattered a
wad of one hundred dollar bills as he struggled to hold onto one.
  
Rolling the bill into a straw, dipping it
into the bag he brought the white powder to his nose and inhaled deeply.
 
A surge that, replenished his energy, made
his eyes water and the back of his throat numb.
 
When the edge wore off, he carefully returned the bag to the drawer, a
swipe of his arm tending to a dripping nose.
 

Staggering across
the room Ben barely made it to the bed before collapsing.
  
Staring at the ceiling, bed spinning, mind
swelling, he began calling up memories of Cassidy’s costume that clung to each
curve like skin.
 
Slowly, painstakingly,
piece by piece, he undressed her.
 
Tonight, for the first time, Ben saw Cassidy through drug-tainted eyes
capable of stripping sweetness and innocence.
 
The pure naive girl kept over the years in a cocoon that in the past he
took out admired then gently returned unharmed, no longer existed.
 
Tonight the “Whore” emerging made every inch
of Ben whine in painful need.
 

How would he ever
look beyond the new Cassidy, her luscious body, her red lips, her firm
ass?
 
Somehow, someway he had to
before…
   
                   

CHAPTER SIX

Never did Cassidy
imagine how magnificent the click of a closing door could sound.
 
Exhaustion made even resting her back against
the cool, hard steel seem wonderful.
 
As quick
kicks freed feet from the stilettos pinching toes and inflicting blisters,
indefinable aches and pains were screaming for attention.

Trivial actions
and reflections compared to a nagging intuition, something was amiss with her
sweet, loving, Ben.
 
Nonsense, her heart
rallied, how could she think such utter gobbledygook?
 
The fact that everyone was beginning to look
suspicious was sufficient warning to reign in her emotions.

When she did,
reality claimed her conscious mode.
 
Despite the good size window in the living room, the lack of moon light
made it frightfully dark.
 
How asinine of
her not to leave a light on, she scolded herself.
  
Then, on second thought, she did, she was
positive, wasn't she?
 
Dear God, had one
night on L.A.'s streets given her Alzheimer’s, for goodness sake?
 

Peculiar feelings
nipping at her stomach and honing her senses jarred instincts.
 
Something moved.
 
Ridiculous, she silently upbraided
herself.
 
Fighting off the resulting
uneasiness, confidently erect, she extended her arms easing forward feeling her
way through vacant space.
 
Fleeting
seconds of terror prompting rarely entertained panic twitched nerve endings
before her fingertips collided with the wall.
 
Bravely rebelling, hands lowered searching for the lamp she felt certain
was near.
 
Even with fingers stretched to
the max, arm's swishing back and forth, there was nothing?
 
The “Nothing” scared the hell out of her.

Insecurity
invading with a gush increasing body temperature knotted a multitude of
muscles.
 
Toes colliding with the corner
of the couch brought her teeth on a collision course with her bottom lip.
 
“Dammit,” never again would she be so
neglectful, a promise made seconds before fingertips glazed a smooth wooden surface.

Until relief’s
quick intake of air widened her nostrils, Cassidy wasn’t aware of holding her
breath so sensitive were the membranes detecting cigarette smoke.
 
How was that possible when she detested the
habit?
 
Looney, that's all there was to
it, she grumbled.
 
Darkness played cruel
tricks, conjured up all kinds of boogiemen.
 
For heaven’s sake, she was not a child.
 
She had lived alone for years.

Boogieman,
hell!
 
The sound of shoes scuffing the
carpet was as real as her heart changing rhythm.
 
A swift reflex shot a hand forward that managed
to grope the lamp before it toppled over.
 
With a flick of her fingers, the room took on life, in the truest sense
of the word.
 
A reflection on the wall
revealed a hand preparing to rob her surprised scream.
 

Black eyes fully
alert spoke the words flashing across her mind, “Serial Killer.”
 
Certainly, her ribs separated from the force
of her heart ricocheting and crashing into her lungs.
 
A moan escaped between the cracks of fingers
sealing her lips.
 
Fight or die
discharged adrenaline to what another might consider fragile hands that reached
up and grabbed the arms resting heavily on her shoulder, sufficient
fortification that flipped the silhouette over her back.
 
With a thud and a grunt, a body twice her size
laid at her feet.
 
Before the intruder
caught his breath, reaching between the cushions of the couch, Cassidy
retrieved a loaded gun, cocked and aimed.

           
Clad in a dark suit, the figure
slowly stood, turned and faced her.
 
“Not
bad.
 
Not bad at all, impressive,
actually.”
 

Eyes flared with
disbelief, she screamed, “Son of a bitch, Dan!
 
I almost fired.
 
What, in hell,
prompted you to do something so stupid?”
 
Despite shouting, and the shaking of her body, both hand's held
steadfast the gun aimed at his heart.

Knowing Cassidy
was an expert sharpshooter, raising his hands in surrender, Dan said with
authority, “Now Casey, baby, put that damn thing down before it goes off.
 
Let me explain.”
 
While piercing light brown eyes nailed
Cassidy, the six-foot frame slowly advancing brought her commanding officer
close enough to retrieve the weapon.
 
It
was his hand remaining on hers longer than necessary raking her nerves.
 
Whether from lethargy brought about by fright
or the anticipation of what was next, her body came none too gently to a
cushion of the couch.

Standing tall and
proud in front of her, he lectured, “We've gone over this a thousand
times.
 
You can't be too careful.
 
You should have remembered you left the
lights on and noticed they were off before entering the apartment.
 
Stupid mistakes will get you killed.”
 

Dan was pacing in
front of Cassidy, his hands waving the air with a language all their own.
 
“I made it clear to everyone I didn't want
you assigned to this case.
 
That I
wouldn't be responsible if anything happened to you.
 
Did they listen, no?
 
Tonight is proof you can't handle this
assignment.”

Cassidy's doe
like eyes examined average features twisted from anger.
 
As if Dan’s straight, dishwater blonde hair
was as disgruntled as he was, strands breaking free from their normal groomed
state fell haphazardly across his forehead.
 
Even knowing his lecture came from fear for her safety; his over
protective tendency pissed her off.
 

Never before had
Cassidy been treated like a wimp by her father or brother's, from day one they
taught self-preservation believing strongly in their motto that women should be
capable of taking care of themselves.
 
Though she never doubted for one second how much they loved her, growing
up four against one wasn't easy.
 
They'd
“whipped her into shape,” she always bragged, prepared her for life’s
challenges, one of them, Dan.

Tonight, Cassidy
was too tired to argue, as usual, she wouldn't get anywhere anyway.
 
At once, she remembered how relieved she was
when three years ago Dan accepted a transfer from New York to L.A.
 
From the moment, they met, with a capital
“S,” seduction was his agenda, trying everything known to humankind to get her
into bed.
 
Too dense to understand, in
doing so, Dan succeeded in convincing her he believed the brain of a woman was
located between her legs and that controlling it was possible if once given the
opportunity to occupy the same space.
 
         

Although Dan was
more than satisfactory looking, intelligent, with a fair amount of muscles,
Cassidy labeled him an egotistical sex manic with an attitude toward women that
needed adjustment.
 
Watching his
melodramatic movements, right this minute, she couldn’t help but think how
she'd love to be the one to twist a knot in his tail.

Accustomed to his
ranting and raving, Cassidy waited until he turned his back to steal into the
bedroom.
 
A couple of quick tugs removed
her costume replaced just as quickly by a favorite oversized tee.
 
She was turning toward the bathroom when she
came against Dan's broad chest a thud that scrambled her thoughts.
 
Made furious by his audacity she wondered,
how long he’d been there, how much he saw, and what right did he have to enter
her private space.

“Get out.
 
Get out of here this minute,” she
demanded.
 
“I'm tired. I don't need this
shit.
 
I don't need your lecture.
 
I'm more than qualified for this job and,
dammit, you know it.”

Standing
motionless with admiration drooling from his mouth, hands coming to Cassidy’s
neck smoothed over her slight shoulders in a calming gesture, a liberty that
made matters worse.
 
“God, you're
beautiful, even more so when you're angry.
 
What you wore tonight did nothing for you.
 
But I can honestly say I've never seen a tee
shirt look so damn inviting.”
 

Cassidy was all
too aware of the bed behind them, the desire dulling Dan's eyes, regrets of,
ever dating him, ever allowing him to kiss her, and fondle her burst to the
surface.
 
Dan was never going to accept
that their brief affair was over, never.

Yet, thinking
back, Dan was always the perfect gentleman, never taking more than she was
willing to give, which wasn't much.
 
At
first, the fact that he was ten years her senior seemed to be the security
Cassidy needed.
 
Now she wondered if, he
was aroused, if he was thinking about sex.
 

God, what was
wrong with her?
 
What was she
thinking?
 
That was the problem, she
wasn't.
 
She was too damn tired,
miserable and had had enough. “I'll give you ten seconds to remove your hands
and get out of my apartment.
 
If you
don't, I swear I'll break every bone in your body,” directives said so quietly
so confidently Cassidy surprised even herself.

Before moving
back, Dan's lips found her forehead.
 
“Whatever you say, my love, but I'm warning you, Casey, you're up to
your neck.
 
What you have going on in
that pretty head of yours won't protect you between the legs if the serial
killer gets his hands on you.”
 
Heated
eyes drifted from hers to the bed and back again.
 
“If it had been him instead of me tonight,
you'd be on your back, with a scarf around your neck, dead.”