Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2) (14 page)

“Don’t get me wrong, the moron’s no brain surgeon, but he is skillful. He used a slow burn setup to start the fire, kind of on the juvenile side, which leads me to believe we’re probably dealing with an amateur who gets his ideas from watching CSI type shows.”

“Slow burn, as in a heating device of some kind?” Mason asked.

“You’re familiar?”

“I have some training in bomb disposal. Dealt with a lot of that shit in Afghanistan.”

Blackstock gave him a nod of acknowledgment, and then continued on. “Cigarette and a matchbook,”

“Know it well,” Mason said.

Mikala sat shaking her head. “Care to share gentlemen? Because I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“A lit cigarette is placed inside the end of a matchbook. It burns slowly all on its own giving the arsonist time to escape without being seen. Once the cigarette burns down, it hits the matchbook and ignites and starts the fire. Usually there’s a pile of rags or newspaper under the matchbook.” Mason explained.

Blackstock cleared his throat to get their attention before continuing, “We may be able to pull DNA from the cigarette filter but don’t get your hopes up. It was perched above a pop can filled with Quat-Chem. One way or another that fire was going to happen, whether from the flame or the vapors, this guy meant business.”

“Quat-Chem?” Mason asked.

“It’s a bactericide we use to clean. It’s strong, has to be cut with water and has to be stored in special containers on its own, away from everything else.” Mikala said, sitting back and taking a deep breath. “He’s not finished yet, is he?” she asked.

“I would like nothing more than to assure you and put your mind as ease, but that’s not going to happen, so how about we have some coffee and go over the evidence, you can start by telling me who doesn’t like you.”

“Do I look like your fucking servant?” Mikala blurted out.

“Easy, tiger,” Blackstock said. “Ed, do you think you can get us some coffee?”

“Can do sir,” the young uniformed officer said, darting from the room.

“Sorry,” Mikala said.

“I get it. You’re scared as shit and a bit on the jumpy side. I’d be angry too if some nut job was trying to take away my livelihood. Let’s remember one thing, tiger. I’m on your side. So, will we get on with it?”

Mikala nodded and rested her elbows on the desk after scooting her chair forward. “Okay, where do we start?”

***

“What do you want for dinner, sugar?” Mason asked, leaning into the refrigerator, shuffling containers around on each shelf. “There’s steak or chicken, we can have a salad with it or pasta.”

“Nothing for me,” Mikala said, reaching past him and snatching a bottle of wine from the fridge door.

“That’s probably not smart on an empty stomach,” Mason warned, gaining himself a nasty eat-shit glare for his opinion.

“I don’t remember asking,” she said, filling a coffee mug that sat in the drying rack, to the brim. She leaned forward rebelliously slurping from the mug, while never taking her eyes from his.

Mason stretched out his hand swatting the mug into the sink. It broke perfectly in half and wine splashed onto the counter. Mikala gasped brushing droplets from her face. “What the fuck!”

“Enough is enough, sugar. You’ve been bitchy as fuck all day, won’t eat and booze isn’t the answer.”

“Well Doctor Reed, thank you for your diagnoses. I’m going to bed.” She turned away just as his hand clamped onto her wrist.

“Exactly,” Mason said, throwing her over his shoulder.

Kicking and screaming he carried her to his room and threw her teasingly onto the bed, she squealed and struggled to escape. “Why don’t you shut up and just enjoy, because this is going to happen,” he teased, mischievously.

Like wrestling with a wildcat, he still managed to have them both stripped naked in a matter of minutes and Mikala finally surrendered to a sweet calm.

Kneeling over her body on his hands and knees, he licked luxuriously over her breasts and neck and kissed a moist trail to her chin. Her breathing became more labored by the minute. He stared into her eyes drawing closer until the space between them almost didn’t exist. So close he could feel his own breath as it collided with her skin, his lips parted slightly, as he attempted to touch his mouth to hers, Mikala turned her face to the side closing her eyes. Mason’s lips touched her cheek and he stilled his pursuit.

She may as well have kicked him square in the nuts, because the pain he felt was as excruciating.

“Still want it that way, sugar?” he asked.

Mikala lay silently under him, the feeling of his hot skin burning into hers. She reached up a hand stroking it along his jaw. “Mason, please. I need this. I just don’t need anything more. We discussed the rules. You can’t change them in the middle of the game.”

“That’s what this is to you, a game?” Mason asked, as he started shaking with anger. He sat back on his knees causing a cold separation between them. “Fuck that.”

“Don’t be like that, Mason.”

“Look Mikala,” Mason started, a cold chill ran down her spine when he called her by her name. “I don’t play games and certainly not games like this.”

Mason leapt from the bed grabbing his boxers from the floor and slipping into them. He gathered up Mikala’s clothes threw them onto her naked body and turned to the door.

“Get dressed,” he said, walking from the room. “I have things to do.”

He slapped a few slices of ham and cheese onto a bun and grabbed a beer before sinking into the leather office chair behind his desk and turning on his desk lamp. Making sure not to notice her as she walked across the room and up the stairs to the hideaway, even though in his peripheral vision he saw every move she made, he stared at the blank computer screen. His heart constricted at the thought that maybe this was it, this was all there was, there would be no more. A cruel realization that too much had gone wrong between them and the scars were far too many to heal. A suffocating feeling of hopelessness wrenched his gut.

“Mason?”

His eyes rose to find her standing in front of the desk. “Can I do something for you?” he asked, bringing the screen to life, a plan of the club appearing.

“Talk to me, Mason.”

“I am.”

“More than two words,”

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his eyes well planted on his computer’s screen. “What do you want to hear, Mikala?”

“I want you to stop playing with that fucking computer for five minutes,” she said, slapping the laptop shut. “And stop calling me Mikala.”

“Busy here.” He opened the laptop and waited. “How about you pick a name and that’s what I’ll call you, anything I say seems to be fucking wrong.”

Coming around the desk she pushed him back by the shoulder turning him so she could nestle onto his lap. When he made no attempt to hold her, she took his arms and pulled them around her waist. She glanced at the laptop swiveling the chair to face them in its direction.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“The floor plan for Pulse,” he said, reaching forward typing something on the keys. The picture changed to a three dimensional view. “This is the view the security cameras are going to show,” he said, as he felt himself calming to her, he couldn’t help himself, she was his drug of choice and it soothed him when she sucked up to him. “When clients come in we’re going to get a clear view of their faces as well as see which direction they take, upstairs or into the dance club. The cameras in all the stair wells will be motion activated, no wasted hours of blank footage and every minute will be date and time stamped.”

“That’s awesome,” she said, smiling.

He was happy the ice princess was thawing.

“Show me more.”

She seemed to be captivated with what he was showing her and he was engrossed by the placement of her ass on his lap. He used both hands to type which pressed her closer to his chest, he was very much enjoying the moment of unguarded time together. She wasn’t trying to create a distance and he was happy to be making contact, even if it was with the material of his t-shirt she wore between them.

“In the elevator,” he pointed to a spot on the screen.

“Elevator?” she laughed.

“Yeah, private just off the kitchen. At one time there was a small service elevator, it was removed years ago, but the elevator shaft shill exists. It’s easy enough to replace.” He backed up the image to show her. “See? It’ll be fitted with a camera. A sensor in the door will turn the camera on and off each time someone enters or exits.”

“What if six people get on and only two leave?” she asked, turning her head to see him.

“It’ll know how many get on and off. Any motion detected on board will ensure the camera keeps running.”

He couldn’t help but notice how green her eyes were at that moment, he wanted to melt his lips to hers so badly he could taste it. “Besides it’s a four person weight max, sugar.”

The smile she graced him with would have lit up the darkest, coldest nights in December. He smiled back typing on the keyboard knowing that she was pleased he was back to calling her sugar.

“Want to see what I have planned for the private rooms?” he asked, and Mikala nodded. “There won’t be interior cameras because that’s just asking for a law suit, so exterior entry will have to be tight. I figure if we install a camera at each end of the hall that should be good for traffic viewing. Each door will be fitted with a camera that takes a face shot as they open the door. I’m not sure yet how we can disguise it.”

“Sounds like you’re securing Fort Knox for Christ’s sake.”

“No, sugar, this is far more valuable than a vault full of gold,” he said.

“Glad you think my club’s worth all the bother.”

He tipped her back in his arms as he spoke into her face, “You know what I’m saying, sugar.”

“I know and I’m flattered,” she said, squirming from his grip until she was standing. “Drink?” she asked, walking to the kitchen.

“I’ll have a beer,” he said, watching her fill a glass with ice then filling it half full with vodka. “I have a copy of the footage from the club for the past few months and the night of the fire, interested in seeing it?” he asked, holding a few discs in the air.

“Okay, on one condition,” she said, and he raised a brow waiting for the ominous new rule to be announced.

“You share that sandwich with me,” she grinned.

Mason smiled, picking up the pile of discs in one hand and the plate with his partially eaten sandwich in the other. “Grab a bag of potato chips from the cupboard beside the stove and meet me in the living room.” He was beyond happy to spend some time just being with her, with no strings to get tangled in.

Most of the black and white footage consisted of front door shots, people coming and going from the club. It was blurry and dark and from the angle the camera was set at, it picked up a glare from the overhead lighting making it impossible to see faces clearly. Luckily Mikala could help by pointing out people she did recognize and giving most of them names. Mason took a disc from farther into the pile marked apartment and inserted it into the machine hitting play. The apartment’s camera was situated just inside the door giving a view of the kitchenette and entrance areas. Since it ran on a continual circuit most of the footage showed an empty room, Mason chose to view it on fast forward. They ate the sandwich, shared some chips and Mason was happy to see Mikala change over to cola, when he refused another beer asking for a can of ginger ale instead.

Mason hit play when he recognized Mikala stepping into the kitchenette on the hazy screen. She was setting up the coffeemaker for the morning, turning and leaning her hips against the counter staring at the ground. She was wearing one of Mason’s Bulldog t-shirts and a pair of ratty old fuzzy slippers, he felt his cock lengthen at the sight of her.

Mikala could locate her ass directly in front of him all dressed in the most elaborately sexy lingerie that money could buy, but when she wore one of his t-shirts that narrowly veiled her assets, he was at risk of spontaneous-combustion every time.

She plunked herself on the sofa beside him glaring at the screen, handing him a soda can. “I didn’t know there were cameras in my place. When did that happen?”

“Part of the original system I’m guessing. As far as I know this is the only camera. Terrible picture…but a great view,” Mason laughed with a sideways glance.

Fast forwarding on, they watched the footage like an uneventful replay of each day. Mikala would dart through the door, her clothing choices would change and she would set the coffee machine. Each day about noon she woke, drank two coffees, smoked a few cigarettes and left until the wee hours again.

“As fun as this is, I haven’t been sleeping great lately I think I’m going to go to bed,” she said standing. She planted a chaste kiss on top of his head. “Have fun.”

“If you need anything, you know where to find me,” he said, with his eyes fixed to the screen. Mikala laughed and went to bed.

As Mason was about to change discs, tiring of the monotonous routine, a mystery man walked through the door. Dressed all in black wearing a hoodie to shield his identity, the man proceeded to rifle through her kitchen drawers and mail on the island counter.  Mason sat forward, concentrating on the screen.

“What the hell?” Mason said, looking to see that Mikala was in bed. Happy that she was, he returned his sights to the video.

Mason sat silently as he sped thru the remainder of the footage on the disc swiftly changing to the next in the sequence. He was fixed to the screen when another shot of the intruder going through the mail appeared again, but instead of leaving he darted off the screen in the direction of her room. As Mason waited to see the man reappear, Mikala walked through the door tossing her keys onto the counter, adding new mail to the pile and slipping her blouse over her head followed by her shoes and jeans. She disappeared from the screen in the same direction the man had gone. To his horror, he realized that this creep had probably seen her naked, his stomach heaved with anger as he thought of what the man could have done to her, it was bad enough that the asshole saw what was his, what was meant for his eyes only. Mason was also positive that the guy had enjoyed the view, probably jacked off while he watched her shower. This had to remain a secret from Mikala, she couldn’t know, not yet anyway.