Scottsdale Heat: a romantic light-hearted murder mystery (Laura Black Mysteries Book 1) (18 page)

I climbed the slope to Scottsdale Road and began walking north. I opened the cell phone and called Sophie. She answered on the second ring.

“Sophie,” I said. “You’re not going to believe the shitty day I’m having.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again.”

“Where are you?”

“In south Scottsdale, about five miles south of the office. Can you come get me?”

“Yeah, but you’ll owe me.”

“I always owe you. OK, I’ll meet you . . .”

My voice trailed as I looked around. OK, so where was I? Then I saw it, less than a quarter a mile up the road.

“I’ll meet you at Jeannie’s Cabaret. And, umm, would you bring a handcuff key?”

~~~~

I walked into the club and collapsed on a seat at the bar. For some reason, the handcuff and chain dangling from my wrist wasn’t getting a lot of attention. I suppose the people here sort of expected to see things like that.

I had been there about five minutes, when I got a call on my cell phone from Suzie Lu. One of her graduate students had cracked the password and she had my file open. She’d be home all afternoon and I could stop by and pick it up any time. I told her I’d stop by later in the afternoon.

~~~~

I was still at the bar and working hard on a Chivas when I saw Sophie walk in. She took three steps into the club then stopped. She opened her mouth and stared at the stage. Two women, a blonde and a brunette, had come out a few minutes earlier and were dancing on the main stage next to the brass pole.

After briefly looking at the women on the stage, Sophie’s eyes slowly went from table to table and then from man to man. I saw her eyes linger on a couple of younger guys next to the main sage. After the song ended, Sophie turned and walked over to where I was sitting at the bar. As she sat, I saw her face had the pink glow she always gets when she starts thinking about men.

“This is the most amazing place,” Sophie said. “There are fifty men in here who are ripe for the plucking. Those naked women did all the work of getting them hot and ready. All I need to do is to pick one out.”

“Haven’t you ever been in a strip club before?” I asked.

“First time ever, I swear.” Sophie said. “I knew they stripped, but I never thought about what else happens strip clubs. Now I’m in a room full of horny men, it’s got me all horny too. I’m thinking I gotta find me a man to use hard and nasty. You know, I can already feel the pressure building. I gotta relieve the pressure soon or the results won’t be pretty.”

“Well, go pick out a man,” I said. But give me the handcuff key and drop me off at my apartment first?”

Sophie dropped me off at my apartment building then took off to find a man. I first looked to make sure the two creeps who had just grabbed me weren’t anywhere around. I then took the stairs, two at a time, to the second floor. I walked down the hall and knocked on the door to Suzie Lu’s apartment. The door opened and Suzie let me in.

Today she was dressed in a short red silk robe with black fishnet stockings and red spike heel boots. I walked in and looked around, but I didn’t see any naked men chained to the wall.

Suzie led me to a desk in a corner of the living room. On the desk she had three computer monitors lined up in a row, looking like something from a science fiction movie
.

Suzie took two disks out of her purse and handed one to me. “This is your original, I didn’t know if you wanted it back or not.” She held up the other disk. “This one has the unlocked file on it. Turns out the encryption software they used on it is an old Department of Defense program. I had a graduate student download the code breaker program from an encryption group bulletin board. It took the program about a minute to find the password for your file. With the password, I opened the file and then saved it as a clean copy on this disk.”

Suzie took the disk and slid it into her computer. The computer whirred and the little light on the front blinked. As we waited for the file to open, I asked her a question that had been bugging me since the day before.

“Did that guy yesterday really give you a hundred dollars an hour just so you’d smack his ass with a paddle?”

“Well sure, but it’s not just the spanking the guys are paying for. Most of these guys want the complete fantasy. I do the
Cruel Teacher and the Bad Student
, the
Naughty Nurse and the Helpless Patient
, the
Sadistic Prison Guard and the Shackled Inmate
, almost anything. It sometimes gets into some pretty involved role-playing, but I don’t mind. The guys appreciate having someone who understands their needs. Besides, I make more from being Mistress McNasty than I do being a tenured university professor. Ironic, isn’t it?”

Don’t you worry the University will find out about it and get upset?” I asked.

“Not really. The Chairman of the Board of Regents has a weekly appointment with me. He goes for the
Stern Mother and the Naughty Boy
fantasy, that one’s very popular.” She leaned over and said in a confidential tone; “Personally, I think he was weaned a little too early.” Then she shrugged her shoulders, as if to say
what are you going to do?

As Suzie was talking, I was watching a small digital timer sitting on her desk. It was in the shape of a chicken and was in the process of counting down to zero.

Three seconds, two, one, zero.

At zero, the timer started to cluck. It was as if the chicken had just laid an especially large egg. Suzie reached over with her slender fingers and lightly touched the reset button. The timer went back to fifteen minutes and started counting down again.

“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment,” Suzie said. Her voice was so quiet she was almost whispering.

She walked over to a bedroom door, slipped off her robe, and hung it on a peg by the door. Underneath the robe, she was wearing a black lace and red satin
Merry Widow
bustier complete with a black G-string and red garters. The breast cups of the corset looked like two big red pointy ice cream cones. Suzie had transformed herself into Asian Dominatrix Madonna.

A large sliding bolt was used as the lock on the bedroom door. With some effort, Suzie slid the bolt to unlock the door. It slid open with a loud metallic
Snap!

“I got the loudest bolt I could find,” Suzie turned and said to me with a grin. “The guys are usually blindfolded and I like them to know I’m coming in. Waiting for the sound of the door to be unbolted really drives them crazy.”

She went in and closed the door.

Curiosity overcame my better judgment. I got up and stood close to the bedroom door. I couldn’t hear anything from the inside but muffled talking. The room must be pretty well soundproofed. Annoyed, I pressed my ear to the door.

“You filthy pervert,” I heard Suzie say in a soft but menacing voice. “You’ve been touching yourself again while I’ve been gone,
haven’t you?
” There was the muffled sound of a strenuous protest. He must have been gagged.

“How dare you lie to me!” Suzie shouted. I’ll show you what happens to naughty little boys who touch themselves without permission and then lie to their Mommy!”

There was a
whoosh
, followed by the loud
slap
of leather smacking against bare flesh. This was followed by a muffled moan.

“That was for touching yourself,” Suzie said. “This is for lying to Mommy.”

Whoosh-
Slap!

Whoosh-
Slap!

Whoosh-
Slap!

With each stroke, his moans became louder and more urgent until they became one long muffled cry, begging for mercy. This went on for two or three long minutes. The man’s screams then trailed off into a series of sobs and moaning.

I heard approaching footsteps and I backed away from the door. Suzie came out and slid the bolt home. On another peg on the wall there was a small red towel. Suzie took the towel and dabbed sweat from her neck and forehead. She then hung the towel back on the peg and put her robe on.

“I just love that guy,” she said to me, a little out of breath, but still with that infectious smile. “He takes one hell of a hard spanking and then complains I was too soft. It’s the belt for him and plenty of it.”

“You’re saying he
likes
it?”

“He’s one of my best clients. He has a three-hour appointment, same time every week.” She bent closer and whispered to me confidentially: “His wife thinks he’s golfing.”

“But, that’s three hundred dollars!”

“Plus, he usually tosses a tip on top of that. He’s so sweet. I always try to think of new punishments, to surprise him.” Again, she broke out in the smile.

Jeez, and I sometimes think I’m the one with the issues.

~~~~

We went back to Suzie’s computer and looked to see what was in the file. What had popped up on the screen was a spreadsheet. It contained a dozen columns of numbers and letters; each with a heading in a language I assumed was Russian. I scrolled down through page after page of numbers. Each page was the same as the last, just different numbers. The spreadsheet ended at line 287.

“Do you have any idea what these numbers and letters mean?” I asked.

“Not a clue.”

“I don’t suppose you read Russian?”

“Not a word.”

“Do you have any friends at the University who read Russian?”

“Not a one.”

Great, another dead end.

Suzie sat at the computer, digging into the file, looking for hidden macros, or anything else that might be in it. Finally, she gave up.

“The file is just as it appears,” she softly said. “A simple spreadsheet with twelve columns and almost three hundred rows of numbers. The only words on the sheet appear to be Russian, but I’m no expert. Maybe you could try translating with Google.”

She hit a button and ten pages printed out from her printer. I folded the papers and put them in my purse. I’d need to find someone who could read Russian to let me know what I was looking at, or maybe I’d try the Google thing.

The chicken started clucking again and Suzie stood up. “Sorry, can’t keep the councilman waiting.”

“Thanks for all your help. I hope everything goes all right in there,” I said, nodding to the door.

“Him? Don’t worry. He’s putty in my hands.”

~~~~

Keeping my eyes open for the homicidal brothers, I went back to my apartment and tried to think. If the file on the disk was in Russian, what did it have to do with Boris and Ivan, the two Russians who had tried to kidnap me? What did the Smith and Jones know about the Iceman, Albert Reinhardt? I decided to call Reno and see if he could help me put together the connection. He answered on the third ring.

“Are you still keeping track of Reinhardt?” I asked.

“Yes, and I’m back on the team shadowing him. The captain is getting nervous. Reinhardt never stays in Arizona this long. He’ll either make the buy soon or pack up and go home. He’s still up at the Scottsdale Princess. But so far, all he’s done today is shoot a round of scratch golf.”

“I might have some information on him.”

“It figures. I’m scheduled go back on shift at the Princess tonight at 7:30. There’s a Bistro there with an outside patio. It’s on the lower level next to the pool. I’ll meet you there at 5:15.”

I looked at the clock and it was almost 3:30. I’d have to leave my apartment by 4:30 to make it to the Princess on time.

How did Reno expect me to get ready in an hour?

~~~~

After a quick shower, I spent several minutes and did a passable job on both the hair and the make-up. I put on a shiny purple top and a black skirt I save for special nights on the town. Between the low-cut top and my push-up bra, I was showing a respectable amount of cleavage. I put on a pair of black medium-heeled sandals and I was out the door.

~~~~

Reno was waiting for me at a table out on the patio, overlooking the main pool. He stood up when he saw me and I saw his old smile was back. Although I had told myself I wouldn’t give him any goofy smiles, or go the least bit schoolgirl on him, I also broke out into a smile. Once I saw him I didn’t care if I looked goofy or not, I couldn’t help myself.

The waiter came over and we each ordered a coffee.

“Have you found your Alex yet?” Reno asked, still smiling.

“No, there hasn’t been anything. His girlfriend is beyond worried, his grandmother is still calling the Mayor, and Lenny’s in a near panic.”

“Just your typical day at the law office?”

“Don’t joke about it. I’m worried about him too.”

“I wasn’t joking. This is actually pretty calm for you.”

“Did you forget about the dead guy I found in Alex’s apartment?”

“Nope, I’m just surprised you’ve only found one so far.”

“You’re such a jerk. Have they found out anything on the dead guy?”

“Only that we still don’t know who he is. Some of his clothing had Russian tags, for what that’s worth. He didn’t have any ID and without hands he doesn’t have any fingerprints. Nobody matching his description has been reported missing. And, his dental records and DNA don’t match anything in the database.”

“So, he’s still just the dead guy?”

“Yup,” Reno said. “He’s still just the dead guy.”

“Did you find anything in Alex’s apartment?”

“Not a thing. No drugs, nothing that had been stolen. They broke and smashed everything, but didn’t seem to take anything obvious. You said you had news about Albert Reinhardt?”

“I was with two men, supposedly brothers, today,” I said. “They were foreign, with accents I couldn’t place. Middle Eastern or Asian maybe. They were convinced Alex had some things that belonged to them and Reinhardt would want to buy these things. They were upset they couldn’t locate Alex or their merchandise.”

“Any idea what the something’s could be?”

“Not a clue, but whatever they are, they’re probably responsible for Alex’s disappearance.”

“Can his girlfriend help? Maybe she knows what Alex was fencing?”

“I don’t think so. I get the feeling she’s in the dark about all of this.”

“She may know more than she thinks she knows. Talk to her. You might get more information than if a badge interviews her again.”

“Do you think Reinhardt could have anything to do with Alex’s disappearance?” I asked.

“It’s possible, but I still don’t see more than a minor connection between Alexander and Reinhardt. We saw him possibly fencing something with Reinhardt at the Tropical Paradise the other day. But, it’s not the kind of exchange Reinhardt’s usually involved in. There’s a structure to his buys. It’s never in a public location, there are always bodyguards, and there are usually multiple groups involved. You said Alex was out on parole as a con man and working as a used car salesman? Any dealings with Reinhardt would be out of his league. I don’t even see how Alex could be a middleman on a sale like that. It doesn’t make sense. Who were these brothers you were with?”

“Jealous?”

“No, but they must somehow fit in with this.”

“All I know is they called themselves Smith and Jones. Smith had an English accent with someting foreign thing mixed in. They were operating out of an abandoned printing shop south of Curry Street. It didn’t look like they had set up an office there or anything. I think it was just a place they found and were temporally using.”

“Let me know where it is and we’ll check it out. Do you know anything else about them?”

“They were driving a white Chrysler 300M. It looked like a rental.”