Craving Vengeance (15 page)

She’d offered to drive him home when they’d
finished. He’d accepted the ride. She’d fed him the chocolates
she’d hand-prepared for him as she drove. It didn’t take long for
the desperation and sadness to drain from of his eyes.

Betta leaned back in her chair and crossed
her arms over her chest. The more she thought about it, she
realized she’d probably done Mike a huge favor, releasing him from
his pathetic, useless life. But she did feel kind of bad, leaving
him the way she did, propped up on a snow bank wearing nothing but
wings for the whole world to see. She shrugged.
Oh well.
She
knew she had to get rid of him quickly, so she’d pushed him out of
the car in the first available alley. Tony was probably already
waiting for her. She’d scheduled her appointments pretty tight. She
had a lot to accomplish in a twenty-four hour period.

Betta propped her elbow up on the table and
rested her chin on her palm as she continued to stare forward.
Mike’s image faded, and Tony Rosso’s handsome chiseled features now
shined in front of her. His perfect white smile nearly lit up the
interrogation room.

Self-esteem had not been an issue for Rosso.
He oozed confidence in everything he did. If only Rosso really
knew. Yeah, he brought her to orgasm, but he was so mechanical.
She’d felt as though he were following an operator’s manual as they
humped on his boss’ desk. She’d expected more from a professional
who’d been in the business for a while. But she had to admit, the
guy was good-looking and built to perfection, and what he did for
that set of wings was a crime in itself. Her fingertips burned at
the recollection of how his hot skin and hard-muscled body felt as
she ran her hands over him. And his scent. She wasn’t sure she’d
ever smelled anything as tantalizing in her life. Between his
captivating scent and the sight of his wings fluttering in unison
as he pumped inside her, she’d nearly forgotten why she was there.
His over-confidence annoyed her and reminded her of her
purpose.

When the time had come for her to take
control and get the job done, they’d switched positions. She took
pleasure in feeding him her handmade chocolates as she rode him
like the man whore he was. Had he no shame, pimping out desperate
souls like he did?

Betta remembered glancing at the clock. She
needed to hurry. Chad Williams was waiting for her. She fed Tony
another chocolate. He coughed and then choked. She climbed off him
and watched as his olive colored cheeks turned red as a fire truck.
He’d sat up, as if that would help. But the coughing continued and
was soon followed by vomiting. It didn’t take long for his body to
fall back onto the desk and convulse. His body stilled. His once
smug eyes stared emptily at the ceiling.

Betta hoped her Aunt Judy wouldn’t be upset
with her if and when she found out that Betta had killed Rosso.
Judy spoke highly of her paid lover. Hell, the way Betta saw it,
Judy was just as much to blame for Rosso’s death. If she and Betta
hadn’t shared a bottle of champagne at Shannon’s Uncle Bernie’s bar
the night of Judy’s 60
^th
birthday, Betta would have
never happened upon Shannon’s short involvement with Rosso. The
information meant nothing to Betta at the time, over one and
one-half years ago, but she remembered it when needed. She recalled
how jealous her aunt acted that night as they watched Rosso behind
the bar. Judy worried that someday a fine young woman would truly
peak Tony’s interest, and cause him to leave the business.

Betta talked to her aunt shortly before the
police knocked on her door so she knew Spinelli, Walker, and Marsh
had questioned her aunt about Rosso at Sonny’s Bar. At that time,
her aunt didn’t have a clue she was the one who killed Rosso. Judy
was sure to find out.
Oh well, it needed to be done.

Rosso’s image in the two-way mirror
transitioned to that of Chad Williams. Chad had surprised her. She
still wondered why he joined Rosso’s team of male hookers. It
wasn’t like he was broke. He had a good job with decent pay and
benefits. He seemed like a nice, regular, clock-punching Joe. She’d
heard rumors he had a gambling problem, so maybe that’s why he did
it. Perhaps he had needed to get a bookie off his back. In the end
it really didn’t matter why he’d done it, it worked out well for
her.

Chad simply did as he she’d asked. His touch
was soft and sweet. He seemed like the marrying kind. In fact, she
wondered why a guy like him wasn’t married already. She’d never
really talked with him at work. She’d see him come in and out of
the building in the morning when she arrived at work or in the
afternoon when she left. He always carried a clipboard in his hand.
The same metal clipboard she saw laying on top the bags of plaster
powder next to where they screwed. Perhaps she’d take the clipboard
when she left, a little remembrance of him. Why not take it. He
wouldn’t need it any longer. Nah, she didn’t need the clipboard.
She had a better remembrance piece already; a group photo of all
the attendees from the summer picnic, the summer before last.
Though he was city employee, he came as Shannon’s guest to the
county picnic. In the photo he stood next to Shannon with his arm
draped over her shoulder.
How sweet.

When he stood to dress, she’d decided it was
time. He couldn’t be found with his clothes on. That just wouldn’t
be right. Before he had a chance to dress, she retrieved the small
heart shaped box of chocolates from her handbag, opened it, pulled
the only rectangle one from the box, and popped it into her mouth.
She held the box out to him. Without hesitation he took one, one of
her special round, handmade chocolates that filled the remaining
slots in the box. He’d popped the chocolate into his mouth and
chewed only a couple of times before he swallowed it, not taking
nearly enough time to savor the smooth chocolate. Betta wondered
why they didn’t ever take the time to enjoy the little things. It
would behoove them.

She’d offered him another chocolate. He had
nearly inhaled that one as well. When he bent over to pick up his
pants he’d started to cough and then choke. She’d stood by as he
vomited several times before he fell to the floor. His body shook.
His soft brown eyes darkened as they nearly bulged out of his head.
He stilled. It was time to go.

Betta squeezed her eyes shut and opened them
to find Dr. Joshua Meyers’ mug staring back at her from the two-way
mirror. Joshua was built differently than the others. The first
three cupids resembled Spinelli. They were tall and muscular. They
had dark complexions and brown eyes. Joshua was wiry, had a light
complexion, and bright blue eyes. And he simply wasn’t as handsome
as the others were. Betta wondered what Shannon had seen in him,
other than him being a doctor.

Fortunately for Betta, Joshua was the jealous
type and was easily manipulated. She’d remembered that from
college. He’d dated her roommate and slept with every girl he could
get his hands on, yet her roommate wasn’t allowed to date anyone
else. Betta never understood why her roommate was so upset when he
dumped her for Shannon. He never treated her right.

Though Meyers was a womanizer through and
through, he’d nearly hopped the next plane when she’d told him
about Shannon’s serious relationship with Spinelli. Betta could
tell from their phone conversation that he wasn’t fully committed
to Shannon, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her, either. He
had planned to come back home to her at some point when he was
ready, and he fully expected her to be there waiting for him.

Who in the hell did Meyers think he was?
Betta huffed. In her book, he wasn’t good looking enough to be this
way, but he did have charisma. She wondered why a guy like him
would volunteer for a church mission trip. It didn’t make any
sense. Was it guilt? Was he trying to buy his way into heaven after
all the cheating he’d done? Betta shook her head. She knew the
truth. He was either trying to bag some foreign women before he
came back home to settle down with Shannon, or perhaps he was
simply just taking advantage of the opportunity laid before him;
living in a mission community comprised of mostly young female
volunteers. People get lonely, and have needs, even the pure and
innocent ones. Betta was sure Meyers basked in the collection pool
of innocent and pure women at his fingertips in the mission
community. The fact that Meyers dated people like Shannon and
Betta’s college roommate, supported Betta’s theory; Meyers liked
corrupting the innocents. It was a little game he liked to play.
Asshole!

Betta thought about screwing Meyers before
she did him in, but the thrill of the hunt was too strong. She’d
simply wanted him dead. Because he was such a dick, she did
suppress her urgency and took the time to coax him into his wings
first. She wanted to tease him, and lead him on a bit, before she
gave him the opportunity to find out if his voluntary mission work
bought him passage through the pearly gates.

Betta pulled the wings from the bag she’d
brought with her to Meyer’s hotel room. She’d saved him the trouble
of having to pick up his own cupid costume for the fundraiser. He
had no time for such things. His time, since he arrived so late on
this special day, was better spent manipulating Shannon and helping
to make her look guilty as sin in terms of murdering her past
lovers.

Betta smiled. She was having so much fun. She
handed the wings to Meyers before she reached her hands behind her
back and pulled down the zipper of her dress. Her dress fell to the
floor exposing her bare breasts and the small patch of material
covering her fresh Brazilian Shave. She shimmied out of her thong
and by the time she looked up again Meyers wore nothing but wings.
He was such a player; so easy, and such an idiot for a man with a
doctorate.

Meyers opened his mouth to receive the piece
of chocolate Betta held. He’d eaten his candy like a good boy, then
sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him before he hurled,
fell back, jerked, and stilled. His once piercing blue eyes turned
as dark as Lake Michigan in winter.

Betta’s icy veins warmed at the sight of him
sprawled out on the bed. He’d been such an easy target—almost too
easy.

Betta leaned back in her chair and stared
into space as she basked in her pleasurable thoughts of her good
day. She nearly patted herself on the back for a job well done.
She’d gotten a lot done in a short period of time. She’d saved the
female gender from a great deal of potential heartache today by
taking out four womanizing man whores. The corners of her mouth
twitched upward. She couldn’t suppress her smile even if she tried.
Sheer excitement rushed through her veins at the speed of light.
She had one last trick up her sleeve to pull off before the clock
struck midnight, and she was in the perfect position to get it
done.

* * * *

A uniformed officer entered the interrogation
room and cuffed Bethany, but not before she blew a kiss in the
direction of the two-way mirror, winked, and mouthed, “All for you,
Spinelli.”

Her words were unmistakable.

Hysterical laughter rang from her lips as the
officer guided her out of the room and took her to holding. The
shrill pitch echoing in the precinct was deafening.

Marsh caught Spinelli’s gaze and shook his
head. “She’s one hell of a crazy bitch.”

All eyes drifted to the Captain as she
entered the room. Marsh informed her of Bethany’s last actions in
the interrogation room. Jackson nodded. She didn’t seem
surprised.

A few beats of silence passed. He was sure
the others were of like mind. Just when they’d thought they’d seen
everything something like this happens.

Jackson broke the uncomfortable silence.
“Well, I guess our work is done here.” Her gaze shifted to
Spinelli. “I’m sorry, Nick.”

“Me, too.”

She glanced at her watch. “I can’t believe
the time already. So much for our Valentine’s Day. I’ll see you all
in the morning.”

Jackson hadn’t taken two steps away from them
before they heard the 911 page come through from holding. They were
calling for medical assistance.

Spinelli ran in that direction. It didn’t
take a rocket scientist to know who the call was for. Walker,
Marsh, and Jackson were on his heels.

The young night-shift officer guarding
holding buzzed them through in stride. They stopped in front of
Bethany’s cell. She lay convulsing on the floor in her own vomit.
Her eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head. The
acidic stench of her vomit scorched Spinelli’s lungs.

Within seconds, the EMTs pushed their way
through. The officer attempting to help Bethany rose to her feet
and stepped out of their way.

“What happened?” the older of the EMTs asked
the officer.

“I don’t know...I locked her in the cell and
started walking away. I hadn’t taken but a few steps before she
began to cough. I looked back at her to find her face already as
red as a fire truck. Then she vomited several times, fell to the
floor, and started convulsing. At that point I called for you
guys.”

The EMT looked at Spinelli. He stood the
closest to them. Jackson, Walker, and Marsh had been smart enough
to keep more distance between themselves and the cell. Spinelli
swiped his sweaty palms over his thighs. Sweat beaded on his
temples and upper lip. His mind was telling him what to say, but it
was if the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. The EMT’s look
intensified, snapping him back into reality.

“Cyanide. She may have poisoned herself.”

Bethany’s body suddenly stilled. The EMTs
strapped oxygen to her and loaded her onto the stretcher. Within
seconds they were gone.

With the exception of Shannon, who still
waited in the lunchroom for Spinelli, they all gathered in
Jackson’s tiny office awaiting the news on Bethany. Minutes later
Jackson’s desk phone rang. All eyes shifted to her.