Arrested Pleasure (26 page)

She was right the first time. He intended to kill her.

* * * * *

"Sonofabitch."

Gabe glanced up at Chaz's curse. "I agree, but the asshole hasn't tangled with us yet." He slammed the phone down. "Damn. Cassie's not picking up her phone at either work or on her cell. Where the hell is she?" He wanted to warn her about Isaiah and hoped she'd at least agree to meet with him and hear his explanation about his role in the investigation.

Chaz lifted his head from perusing the report on his computer screen. "Possibly she's out with the new boyfriend."

Gabe scowled at his coworker. "Like hell I hope not." He punched in her home phone number. It rang ten times.
Nothing.
Where was she? Uneasiness about why she didn't answer punched him in the gut. After finding out Isaiah Winkler's motives, Chaz had called the man in on the pretext of questioning him in regard to some complaints they received on property he owned. Winkler grumbled about the lateness but told them he'd be here by six.

Chaz all of a sudden grunted. "Well, look here."

"What's up?" Gabe asked.

"Says here"—he pointed to his screen—"that Isaiah Winkler was arrested three years ago for intimidating one of his tenants." Chaz shook his head, disbelief blooming across his face. "Unfortunately the lady didn't press charges, and the case was dropped.

Sounds like he's a nutcase. Tried to hire someone to harass the lady, but the perp ratted on Winkler. Because no actual crime occurred, he got off with probation."

A chill coursed up Gabe's spine. The guy hired a thug? Getting men to make false complaints was one thing, but to hire someone to harm a vulnerable woman made him a rat's asshole. If Winkler tried this tactic with Cassie, he'd kill him personally.

"Where the hell is the guy?" Gabe muttered as he glanced at the clock. The sooner he nailed the guy, the faster they'd be able to close the case.

"I'm wondering if you shouldn't let me handle things. You're apt to go for his throat," Chaz said.

True, but Gabe had enough control to want to stick around and get Winkler to admit he was setting up Cassie. "I'm okay." He swallowed his now lukewarm coffee in an attempt to calm his jangled nerves. Between worrying about Cassie and his anger over Isaiah Winkler, he was a mess. He grimaced at his cup. Of course, drinking coffee wasn't going to help. His head shot up when someone knocked on the door.

Marci poked her face in and smiled at them. "Mr. Winkler is here per your request."

Chaz nodded curtly. "Great, bring him in." He motioned for Gabe to keep his cool. The worst thing to happen would be for Isaiah Winkler to walk out in anger or get tipped off before they cornered him.

A scowling overweight man in his late fifties walked in. He mumbled something to Marci about this being an inconvenience and taxpayer dollars not being put to use properly.

Both detectives exchanged glances. Definitely not a pleasant man. "Sit down, Mr.

Winkler." Chaz pointed to a nearby chair. After some more under the breath mumbling, the man sat down.

Gabe took a deep breath. "I'm Gabe Banks and this is my partner, Chaz Rush.

Can we get you something? Coffee?"

"That crap you call coffee? No, thank you." Isaiah glared at them both. "I want you to know I delayed my business dinner at the Marriott for this. I'd be eating a nice, juicy steak right now instead of being in a dingy police department."

"I'm sorry we interrupted your evening plans, but this is important. It's about a building you own on Front Street," Gabe replied.

Isaiah eyed them, assessing what they wanted. He finally nodded. "So I was told on the phone earlier by one of your guys." He gazed shifted from Gabe to Chaz.

"Hopefully this won't take long. I gather the police department has some complaints on Casa de Massage?"

Isaiah leaned forward, his voice lowering. "I keep my buildings clean of immoral behavior, and I knew it'd only be a matter of time before she got busted. Glad someone finally got the goods on her." He glanced toward the doorway. Was he afraid someone was out in the hallway listening? "I hope the police department runs her out of the city."

He sat back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

Gabe controlled the urge to smash the bastard's face. Instead, he doodled a little on his notepad, pretending to take a few notes. "Tell us about the building you own.

How did you end up buying it?"

"Oh." Isaiah glanced back and forth between Chaz and Gabe. "The old guy who owned the building got sick, and his family advised him to sell off his assets. I bought it to . . . uh . . . help the family out." He frowned as he paused. "I don't see how this—"

"Weren't you friends with the man's nephew?" Gabe had checked over the building contract. Isaiah got a good damned deal on prime real estate.

"Sheridan? Uh, yeah, we knew each other."

"He's not your partner then?"

Isaiah's face flushed and his eyes dilated. A man who'd appeared confident before was now flustered. "Look now, I'm not about to discuss my business practices with you." His voice rose. "I'm here as a Good Samaritan because someone registered a complaint against her spa. If this is true, then I want you to shut the place down for good."

"We never told you we had a complaint against the spa," Gabe pointed out. "We only told you we needed you to come in and discuss some allegations regarding a building you own."

Isaiah's ruddy cheeks paled. He glanced at Chaz. "I may have misunderstood you."

"I don't think so." Chaz's eyes narrowed. "Tell us about your relationship with Sheridan. Did he give you some inside information to purchase the building?"

"None of your business," Isaiah retorted.

"We can bring Sheridan in and talk to him. My understanding is the two of you are on the outs with each other."

Isaiah's face contorted at Chaz's words.

At that moment, Gabe could've hugged Chaz. He'd gone for the jugular.

"Well?" Chaz asked, as he reached for the phone. "Shall I contact Sheridan?"

Winkler stared at Chaz for a long, drawn-out moment. Then his eyes dropped.

"Okay. Sheridan asked me to buy the property so he'd get his hands on his uncle's money," he finally said. "He told me his uncle was ill and needed to get rid of some real estate. I offered to buy the whole block. I did nothing illegally."

"But the property came with some attached conditions I'm sure Sheridan didn't mention." Gabe pulled out the documents from the real estate company. "One of which is the rent stays the same while Cassie—Cassandra Nichols is a tenant." He opened to page six. "And also she conducts herself in a manner that is not immoral or unethical."

"Where the hell did you get the copy?" Isaiah jumped to his feet, his fists raised.

"None of your damn business how I run my company. I'm willing to bet you got that dishonestly." He glared at both of them. "I'm going to file a complaint with the city."

Gabe ignored his threats. "For what? This is public knowledge, and we didn't do anything wrong to get it."

Isaiah's face turned pasty white. "The hell you did. Give the paper to me." He reached out a hand to grab the paper off the desk, but Gabe moved the file away. Chaz shifted closer, ready to pounce in case Isaiah got even nastier.

"Just sit down, and we'll discuss this some more." Gabe was ready to punch the guy. He got a sick feeling Isaiah would do anything to get his own way.

Isaiah grumbled, but then plopped back down into his seat and glared at them. "I still think it's unethical and immoral to steal what's private." His gaze flickered back and forth between Gabe and Chaz. "I have nothing to hide."

Oh, yeah, right,
Gabe thought
, you're not fooling me
. He glanced at Chaz, who gave him a slight smirk. Yeah, Chaz thought the same thing. Clearing his throat, he continued his questioning. "Are you not in the process of trying to sell those properties to a firm that has plans to build parking garages?"

Isaiah's lips thinned as he listened to Gabe's words. "It's none of your business what I've planned for the buildings. Whether I sell or not isn't the point. I just want to know if Ms. Nichols has been arrested for running a whorehouse. Seems like you guys should be investigating her instead of draggin' an innocent taxpayer in here."

"Or maybe she's being set up in order to run her out of business." Gabe heard the sharp gasp emitted from Winkler's throat.
Gotcha,
he thought and smiled to himself. The bastard had sent those men in here to file false complaints. "It's hard to investigate anything when we can't find those men who contacted us in the first place to say they'd been propositioned by Ms. Nichols or her staff. Imagine that? Can't build a case without evidence." Gabe sat back and waited for Isaiah's reaction.

It didn't take long. "What are you implying, Detective Banks?" He scowled at Gabe. "That I hired those men? Well, you have no proof. Why, I should get your ass fired."

"What makes you think we don't have the proof?" He picked up the folder. "And I only said it's hard when you can't find them. But I got lucky . . . ." He let his words trail off.

Take the bait, sucker,
he silently urged Isaiah
.

The other man's face blanched, and Gabe watched him visibly gulp. "I only want to do whatever I can with the property I own. That damn old man tacked on those goddamn conditions, and Sheridan didn't bother to tell me." Isaiah shook his head.

"She's one stubborn lady."

After standing by for a long time without a word, Chaz finally spoke. "But setting her up for a charge of prostitution is a serious offense."

The other man stared a long time at Chaz before he asked simply, "You have evidence?"

Chaz nodded.

A whoosh seemed to reverberate through Isaiah's body and his face reflected defeat. "I didn't mean things to go this far. I guess I got reckless." He closed his eyes.

"My wife suggested I offer to relocate the business or work around them to build new businesses. I guess my wife was right after all."

Relief flooded through Gabe. Cassie was innocent. Maybe now they could start all over. If she accepted his apologies. "What you did is serious, but I'm sure it can be fixed." He wrote down some notes. "Are you willing to sign a confession? Since we didn't ever press charges against Ms. Nichols, she may not want to do anything, but she should be made aware."

Isaiah nodded wearily, looking older than his fifty-something years. "I understand—" Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Oh. What time is it?"

"Nearly seven," Chaz replied.

"Oh, no." Isaiah stood up. "We have to stop him." He glanced at the phone and leaned over to pick the receiver up, but Gabe stopped him.
What the fuck did he mean
?

"What are you doing?"

"The man I hired to—" Isaiah glanced at Chaz. "I hired a man to, uh . . . to prove to her it was unsafe to live in the area. I thought this would be my last chance."

Gabe lunged to his feet and grabbed Isaiah by the front of his shirt. "You hired a frigging man to hurt Cassie? What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Sweat rolled down Winkler's face. "I know.
Stupid.
But maybe he chickened out."

Gabe let go of Isaiah and started dialing Cassie's number. She hadn't answered earlier and now a steady trickle of dread ran down his spine.

* * * * *

Cassie slowly opened her eyes as pain continued to reverberate up her body.

Confused, she glanced around. Where was she? Catching site of a table, she realized she was in one of the therapy rooms. She must have fainted.

Heavy breathing behind her alerted her she wasn't alone. Her body tensed as fresh memories washed over her. The attack on her and falling to the floor.

The terror.

She made an attempt to edge away, testing her agility, but couldn't budge. He'd bound her wrists to a table leg, leaving her unable to move her arms.

"Finally awake are you?" The words were sneered near her ear.

She twisted her head to stare at him, as though to ingrain his image into her brain. Not that it would matter. A chill went up her spine. She suspected when he was done doing whatever he intended to do, he wouldn't leave her behind as a witness.

"Please, let me go. Take the money and just . . . leave," she pleaded.

He lifted the knife, and she watched in horror as he ran the tip across his thick arm. He was taunting her.

"I'm not after the money. Although . . ." A sick grin crossed his face. "I'll consider that a bonus once the job is done."

The job?
What did he mean? Wasn't money the reason he chose her? "I don't understand. If it's only the money you want, you can have every stinking dime."

He rose over her and brought his face closer to hers. She reared back as far as she could, but the back of her head hit the wall. A sickly, sweaty smell penetrated from him, and she almost gagged.

"Lady, you ain't supposed to understand." He brought the knife closer to her face and pressed the icy-cold tip against her cheek. "Just feel." He smiled and leaned even closer. "After we're done, you won't care."

Terror gripped her, and she flinched as he barely pierced her cheek with the tip of the blade. It hurt, but she dare not cry out. This is how he wanted her to suffer.
To feel
the pain. To cry out
. A tiny trickle of wetness dribbled down her face.
Tears . . . or blood
.

He pulled the knife away and his eyes stared at her vacantly. "Just do what I say, and perhaps things won't be so bad after all." He laughed and the sinister sound echoed off the walls of the room.

The room reverberated into silence, with only the tick-tock of a clock heard. She wondered if anyone would find her, though she'd sent everyone home. Maybe Dani would return in hopes of convincing her again to go out tonight.

The stillness was shattered by the shrill ring of the phone in the reception area.

Although they were several yards away from the source, the sound echoed, mocking Cassie and reminding her she couldn't scream for help
.

No one would be able to help her or save her. Only she could do that.