Chapter 1

Anna Ortiz was dead. While she seemed to be in the sweet repose on her bed, in reality she had been murdered. Police Detective, Lieutenant Corbin "Whit" Whitaker was standing looking down at her naked supine form. There were tears in his eyes. Her cat, Maxine, was gently brushing her head against his leg.

Anna had been a prostitute but with Whit's help, made the decision to quit. She had a new job and she enrolled in business school a couple of months ago. She had decided that she had had a future; a chance at a better life than the one she ran to, when she had run away from her abusive father and uncaring mother.

The police detective, who was staring down at her, was not there in the line of duty. Anna was special to Whit; in fact he was in love with her.

"You want a date?" asked the lovely Latina, looking into the face of despair, without understanding the depths within the wearer.

At that moment, Whit had two viable options and one not so viable. He could have walked away. He could have pulled out his badge and walked her to the nearest precinct for their "date". Instead he went for the not-so-wise option number three. "OK," he said, as he got up in a daze and he walked her back to her place.

The walk to their destination was a quiet one. No chit chat, no negotiation over price. She had tried but, he interrupted. "I'll pay your maximum." There was a haunted look on his face that shone under a nearby street lamp. Anna knew that look.

Anna saw that look in the mirror every morning. She was just as lost as the man who lumbered by her side, as they made their way to her apartment.

Whit sat in the stranger's living room. "Why did I come here?" he thought.

"So, baby. Do you want something to drink?"

Whit's training taught him to politely refuse, before asking "What's your name?"

"'Roxanne'."

"That's original."

"Everyone's always a critic." she laughed.

"Well, 'Roxanne, you don't have to put on the red light'."

"OK, I'm putting away my makeup," she replied, paraphrasing with another lyric from The Police song.

Whit laughed. It was the first time he had laughed since he read the note four hours ago. He couldn't believe he was laughing. She could have responded to his comments angrily. Instead, she had responded with humor. He had his guard up, but all of the sudden his guard hit the ground with a thud and he began to cry.

"What's the matter baby?"

"My wife ran away with my brother!" he bawled.

She looked at him for a split second, not knowing what to do. Then her instincts took over and she ran to him and held him. "It's alright, Caro. I'm here."

He looked up at her with tear stained eyes, yet that same haunted face, no longer possessing the facade of indifference or phony affability. After a moment he murmured, "Thank you, Roxanne"

She just tightened her grip on him and whispered "My name is Anna."

Soon his peers had shown up at the crime scene. Uniformed officers, other detectives, forensic techs, the medical examiner and others filled the small loft, as Whit answered questions in a daze. Once a preliminary time of death had been established, it was clear that he was not considered a suspect. A couple of his close friends and his superior officer knew of his "friendship" with Anna. They knew he was trying to help her get out of her old life and despite not approving at first, when they met her they had collectively changed their minds.

Anna without her baggage was a proverbial ray of sunshine. On that night when he needed someone, she had held and comforted him. On that night she discarded most of that baggage. This single act fundamentally changed Anna in several ways. She learned that her heart was capable of showing love. She learned that she could be loved. Most importantly, she fell in love with Whit.

Whit was in love with Anna too. Originally, he had been bothered by their age difference. He was about eight years older than her. Additionally, his own self-worth had taken a hit on that fateful night and he felt she deserved someone better than the 'broken down cop' he considered himself to be. Anna's loving openness had changed his feelings and allowed him to open his heart to the possibility that they could be together. Now none of that mattered. Anna was gone forever. To make matters worse, cruel fate had taken his Anna from him on the first anniversary of the day they had met: The day his wife had left him.

Anna had held him in her arms as they lay on her bed. Soon his crying quieted. She had removed his and her clothes, not knowing if he wanted to have sex with her. She continued to stroke his head, "It's alright, Caro. I'm here," she had said over and over again.

As she did this, a very primal feeling began to manifest itself within Anna. While it seemed to be foreign while out of context, the concern for this man brought on feelings of possessiveness, affection and finally the most unlikely of emotions: Love.

She had felt that love bubble to the surface. An emotion she had sworn she would never possess, but an emotion she longed to have. Somehow, Whit sensed this feeling of love and it began to flood him too. He lifted his head from her nude shoulder and looked into her eyes. For a moment he had searched her eyes for an answer before seeing a look that told him to proceed. He kissed her; gently at first and then with more urgency. Anna became swept up in these feelings. She practically never kissed johns, but Whit was special. Somehow she knew this and her body began to respond to Whit as if he were her lover; not a client. Then she realized that was what he was about to be. He was to be her lover.

Despite the open box of condoms on her night stand, "safe sex" was the furthest thing from either of their minds. While Anna was on the pill, she never engaged in a sex act without the use of a condom, out of fear of catching an STD. Now this fear was nowhere to be found as she guided his hard member into her drenched channel.

As he entered her, Anna moaned in passion. While he had not possessed the largest or longest cock she had had in her, he was certainly bigger and longer than average. The intensity of her feelings and the way he filled her, caused her to moan. As a whore for the last six years, she had sex countless times. It was mainly about her partner's pleasure. While she occasionally felt something, she had faked more than her share of orgasms.

This time would be different. She realized that no matter how many fucks she had had, she was making love for the first time in her life.

They started with him on top. His strokes and their kisses were slow and deep, as they reveled in a depth of intimacy, neither had previously experienced. Soon their mutual passion began to drive their actions, as their thrusts and kissing became more frenzied and less steady. Anna began to lose herself in her passion. For a split second, a rational thought tried to penetrate her brain, but it was quickly swept away by a torrent of pleasure. Then the early possessiveness had returned. "This is my man," she thought over and over, as her breathing became labored.

Likewise, Whit was having similar thoughts. He had never had someone make love to him like this. He felt her touch his soul in a way that his wife had not in the six years of their marriage. "If she did this with every client, she'd probably have received thousands of proposals," he thought. He almost wanted to propose himself. Somehow he doubted that this level of intimacy could be faked. He sensed that these feelings they were having were real.

Whit knew he could not hold on much longer. His thrust became harder and her moans and cries became louder. Soon, he fired his hot seed into her womb, as she shook and shuddered into an earth shattering climax of her own.

In the afterglow, he looked at her beautiful face. As absurd as it sounded, he was falling for her. It made no sense, except for the incredible connection he had made with this loving woman who in essence, saved his life.

While he couldn't bring himself to say it, Anna looked at him with a cautious smile. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" she asked.

Whit smiled back. "Yeah, I do. Still, I think you need to get your eyes checked if you feel that way about me."

She laughed and replied to his comment with a deep kiss, which he eagerly returned.

As he sat in a chair in shock with Maxine purring in his lap, he overheard his colleagues "working the case".

"The victim was strangled to death. My preliminary time of death would be five or six hours ago," said the Medical Examiner.

"What about those bruises on her torso?"

"She received those prior to her death. Her killer probably used the blows to incapacitate the victim before killing her."

"Was the victim raped?"

"Strangely, no. No signs of vaginal tearing or trauma. No semen present either."

"She seemed to be laid out on her bed, as if she was on her wedding night," observed the detective. "Pretty ironic considering her line of work, wouldn't you say, Doc?"

"Shhhhh ... Lieutenant Whittaker is over there. He cared about this girl..."

Whit heard the words, but he was so lost in his grief to act upon them.

He was snapped from his fog, by a lovely voice from above. "What a pretty kitty."