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Kelly was a typical Benson, unfamiliar with the rigors of the real world, and probably spineless when push came to shove. Tomorrow I figured she’d bug out for the safety of her daddy’s castle. She’d leave the real work, the dangerous work, to someone without her money and privilege—a typical Benson move.
None of them had enough courage to do the right thing if it involved effort or sacrifice. Encounter a problem, get out the checkbook, and presto, problem solved.
Their family had always been able to buy their way out. There was nothing their wealth and connections couldn’t get for them, no obstacle that couldn’t be overcome.
My dad had started with nothing and built his business from the ground up. Our family was not quite as rich, but more impressively, none of it was hand-me-down money from a previous generation like theirs.
Her father had tried and failed to bury my dad years ago. I could see the anger still burning in Dad whenever the Benson name came up.
Pity that Kelly would likely bail, and I wouldn’t be able to see the combination of horror and anger on her brother Dennis’s face when he learned I was undercover with his younger sister.“Hey, Dennis, do you like it as much as Kelly does? Taking it in the ass, I mean.” The line I’d prepared for the occasion would completely unhinge him. Cuffing him for assaulting a federal officer would make my day. Too bad I wouldn’t get to use it.
Sipping my drink, I wondered what it would have been like tailing such a nice piece of ass around. She was quite a looker. Her tits had filled out nicely, and those legs had always been mighty fine.
I fantasized for a moment about how grateful she’d be after I saved her from that psycho SMK and the way she’d want to repay me. Did she even know how to suck dick? Or was that beneath her? It didn’t matter. As a Benson girl, she’d probably never had a proper fucking. My dick got hard at the image of her fine ass bent over for me. Grabbing those hips of hers would feel so good as I gave her a pounding. I rubbed my dick through my pants as I imagined slamming into her until she couldn’t walk straight.
I got up, grabbed a few tissues, loosened my belt, unzipped, and jerked off imagining her beneath me, her eyes looking up at me, wanting me. I would teach her what she needed to know.
After cleaning up, I finished my drink.
Fucking fantasy.
She’d be on an airplane and in California by Wednesday, touching up her nails and leaving people like me to deal with SMK, who’d already killed twice. She’d leave and not look back as the next girl was threatened and murdered by this Unsub. After the next kill, we’d up his status to serial killer.
When we caught this guy after his fourth or fifth or whatever kill, would Kelly even care about the other victims—the senseless killings we could’ve prevented if she’d had the guts to work with us?
No fucking way. She’d be safe in California, sipping her latte and planning her next spa weekend.
It sucked that she could walk away like this, but that was life in the real world. The undercover sting would only work with someone who was committed and would stick it out. Doing it half-assed, the Benson way, would be worse than not even trying. The Unsub would be warned, go underground, change his tactics, and we’d be back at the beginning again.
This was our one shot at him. Neither of the previous two victims had come forward. How many more would have to die because Kelly didn’t have what it took to catch him? I guessed three.
After pouring another drink, I walked to the window and looked out. He was out there somewhere, and he had the advantage. The realization that another body would soon drop sucked, but nothing could change that. Tomorrow night, I’d be back in the shitmobile on another overnight stakeout, and Kelly Benson would be on a plane back to Daddy.
I finished my drink and headed to bed.
Chapter 5
Kelly
When my alarmsounded Tuesday morning, it was a relief to actually give up trying to sleep.
I’d thought sleep would come eventually. I’d been wrong. It had hardly come at all. The news broadcasts about Melinda had played over and over again in my head. Even turning up the sound machine in my bedroom hadn’t helped. The image of the threatening note had so burned itself into my brain that it was painted on the back of my eyelids every time I closed them.
As much as I wanted to do the right thing, I didn’t see how I could go even a day or two wondering if the monster who’d taken Melinda and Patel was behind me, or around the next corner. Cop shows were full of instances where the detectives promised to protect someone and the criminal eventually got to them anyway. Even on an empty stomach, I almost puked in my bed thinking of what this guy had done to poor Melinda.
Padding down to the kitchen and making my first cup of tea was a welcome distraction. Forcing myself to be active rather than lying in bed momentarily banished the demons. I silently counted the ten dips of my teabag in the hot water before discarding it in the little bowl I pulled from the cupboard for that purpose. I emptied the bowl into the trash and set it in the dishwasher.
As a minor bonus, Yolanda wasn’t here this morning to complain about how my habit filled up the dishwasher unnecessarily.
I climbed into the shower with my hot mug. The warm water running over me slowly relieved the restless tension my sleeplessness had caused.
I hurried through my morning routine after remembering I hadn’t gone out to get gas last night like I should have. Finally, my usual eight strokes of mascara on each eye, and I was ready. The girl in the mirror begged to differ. When I looked carefully, the lack of sleep showed under my eyes, but I didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with that.
Locking my door behind me and stepping toward the sidewalk, I spied Mr. Dark Suit coming my way. I turned left toward the Metro station and silently wished for a life as routine as his.
He probably got up every day on time, got to work on time, home on time, and all with no threatening notes to punctuate his day with terror.
Kirby was wrong. Predictably boring monotony could be good. Routine kept me grounded.
