Chapter 4

The safe house was a small two story crack house in a side of town that she'd never thought to be in. It had been taken over in a raid and had been used since as one of the five safe houses around the city.

It wasn't pretty, old siding and an even older porch sagged across the front of it, giving it an abandoned feel. One of the gutters along the front was missing and two of the windows were now covered in plywood. The grass was over grown and the fence needed painting.

Graffiti covered the walls in colorful sayings with words spelled in different and interesting ways.

Most of the buildings in the area had graffiti. Some was even artistic enough to be interesting and she stared at it as they drove slowly through the neighborhood. But some of it was in bad taste. Big white letters on the side of a church, sprayed across beautiful stained glass windows shocked her the most, proclaiming that "God is dead, Rico rules!"

They ushered her inside the small house, her elbows held by two plain clothes officers who took her right up the stairs and left her in a small bedroom. Kaylee looked them over as they introduced themselves and told her of the rules she was to abide by during the next few days while she stayed with them.

Chuck was tall and thin, wearing jeans that were just a touch too tight and too short. He wore a plain white tee-shirt under a short leather jacket and when he moved, the jacket pulled back just enough so she could see the butt of a huge gun stuffed in a holster under his arm. He moved with jerky strides, and quickly, as if he had too much nervous energy and didn't know how to expend it all. Just being around him made Kaylee tired.

Jack was almost his direct opposite. Short and stocky with dark hair and skin that bespoke of Italian heritage, he carried himself with a suave kind of charm as if he knew the ladies loved him and had to prove it to all of them. His jeans were dark blue, almost looking as if he'd just pulled them off the shelf of some store to throw on.

He strutted around the room; his hands busy with the deck of cards that were tattered and ragged, almost as if he used them a lot.

Kaylee sank onto the bed after they left, staring out the small window in the room at the house next door. Its shades were drawn, as if it had turned its back on its neighbor, a feeling that Kaylee was beginning to understand.

Tears crept down her cheeks and she pulled out the small pillow, wrapping it against her stomach as she curled onto the bed.

Joy filled him.

That was the only way he could express it to himself. She'd found his present, she had to know how he felt. Kaylee. She would be his. He danced around the room in uncharacteristic glee, picking up the big orange cat that had been sleeping in a small square of sunlight.

"She'll be here for us, Buddha," he said to the disgruntled feline. "She'll take care of us, and love us. We'll be a family. Who knows," he said, putting his face up to the cat's, "maybe I'll even get you a girlfriend, too."

The cat dug his nails into the man's arm, determined to make his point that he wasn't happy about being so rudely awaken and then ran from the room when he was unceremoniously dropped. But the man wasn't fazed. He was too excited.

It had been so easy, all of it. Killing the bitch had been the hardest part. He'd had troubles enjoying her, her flabby body and ugly colorless hair hadn't been much of a turn on. But he'd managed, closing his eyes and letting images of the others superimpose over her face.

But the rest, staging the office, forcing her to write the note, watching the cops, that had been easy and a huge rush to his senses. It was so easy to blend in, so simple to become part of the crowd, to fade from view as others more colorful took the spotlight. He'd had only one moment of fear, when Kaylee had stepped from the police cruiser and scanned the growing crowd.

But her eyes had passed over him as had all the others.

He'd followed her to the police station, even though he had wanted to stay at the scene until the bitch had been brought out. His need to be close to Kaylee had won him over and he'd followed the cruiser, staying far enough back that even the more experienced police officer hadn't noticed him.

She'd been in there forever, making him think that they'd snuck her out a different exit. And they had. If he hadn't gotten out of his car to walk down the block at that exact moment, they could have snuck her past him. But as it was, he saw her, sitting in the back seat of the unmarked car, a privately owned vehicle, he'd bet.

He'd tailed them to that little house in that terrible neighborhood. And he'd laughed as he drove by, noting the cocky swagger of one of the cops and the way his eyes had roamed over Kaylee's ass as she'd turned away to go into the house. He'd take the cop's eyes out for that. And he'd do it while the cop was still awake, feeling every single inch of pain.

Now he waited. He wanted it later, dinner time. He had a plan. And then Kaylee would be his. A thrill shot through him, a pleasure so great that his cock hardened in his pants at the thought of how he would take her tonight. And when the drugs worked, he would strip her naked but for the tiny red lace thong that he'd bought. He'd slip that over her skin himself, not allowing his hand the pleasure of actually touching her there, between her legs where that tiny strap of silk would rest.

He would wait until she was awake, and then, that first night would be his again, her standing in the mirror, firm breasts swaying as she moved, her hand imprisoned in that lacy red silk, her fingers stroking her flesh as she dreamed her dreams, staring into the mirror.

His hand slipped over the front of his pants, stroking his firm shaft, the light in his eyes dimming as he remembered the way she had looked in the meager light of the lamp on the dresser. Her dark hair had gleamed like a satiny cape across her shoulders, teasing his eyes with glimpses of her full breasts, the tips hard from her caresses. Her body was taut and firm with the sweetness of her youth just turning into the full curves of maturity.

With a gasp, he cut off his memories, giving his cock one last firm stroke and the mental promise of even better things later. It was almost that time. His plan would work and she would be his. He had no doubts. With a grin he reached for the phone and dialed the numbers he knew by heart.

Kaylee was lying back on the bed, her mind a blur of bleak thoughts as she stared at the stained and cracked ceiling. There was a television playing down the stairs in the ancient living room as the detectives sought to amuse themselves during the length of their stay. Jack and Chuck sat in folding chairs, arguing over the baseball game that was playing on the old black and white TV set that the department had allotted for them.

She could hear their voices and supposed that they gave a tiny bit of comfort. At least they let her know she wasn't alone in this oasis of grime and filth. And cockroaches, she thought with a shiver of disgust, hearing the scurrying patter of their feet against the aged wood of the floor.

She sat up, pulling up her feet to wrap her arms around her knees and stared out the tiny window. Jack had advised against lights, wanting any activity to be in the main part of the house where they were. She couldn't understand it, if she were trying to break in; she'd go to a window that was dark, not one where light shone out. But then again, she wasn't a cop.

With a sigh, she reached out for her purse, dragging the heavy bag over to paw through it looking for the gum that she'd stuffed in there this morning before this whole thing had begun.

When the knock on the front door came, it startled all of them. Jack and Chuck looked at each other and then at the front door.

"Who is it?" Jack called out.

"Roberto's Pizza," a male voice hollered back. "I gotta a pie out here with the works, ordered and paid for by um ... hang on."

They could hear a rustle of paper and Jack got up and headed to the front door.

"A Detective Hampton," the voice continued.

Chuck grinned. "Good ole Gabe, I knew he wouldn't forget us out here."

"Hold on," Jack yelled, flipping the locks on the door.

Roberto's delivery guy stood just outside, a bright red hat on his head with a small Italian guy throwing pizza crust into the air prominent upon the brim, red and white striped shirt that was grimy and stained with red sauce and flour and jeans. In his hands he held a huge pizza box, on top plates and utensils and a two liter bottle of soda. "Here you go, happy eating."

Chuck took the food while Jack reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

"No," the delivery guy said. "It's all taken care of. And it's my pleasure. Enjoy." He turned without another word and walked down the cracked cement pathway, disappearing through the gate.

"Cool," Jack said, closing the door and clicking the locks back into place. "Go get Kaylee before you stuff yourself," he said to his partner.

"Yeah," Chuck said, laughing, "Gabe shoulda ordered two pizzas. Babysitting's rough work."

Kaylee let herself out of the small bedroom she'd been ordered to, skipping down the stairs, and came into the living room. "Walls in this place are paper thin, guys," she said, a slight note of warning in her tone. She'd heard them discussing her this afternoon, in not quite business like ways. It'd been more along the lines of Chuck and what he thought of her ass.

Chuck's face turned red and Jack laughed. He sat the pizza down on the small coffee table that was missing a leg, held in place by a stack of paperbacks. It wobbled slightly before steadying.

Jack turned to look at Kaylee as he opened the box. "Hope you're hungry," he said. Then he noticed the look on her face. It was a look of horror as she stared into the pizza box.