Page 9 of Tell Me Your Desires

Max moved to assist Lady A, who began to breathe erratically. “I’m sorry, but Frank lied.”

Lady A reached up and untied her mask. Though it didn’t cover her nose, she felt suffocated behind it. “I don’t understand. What happened? Who did this?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Jaime answered, leaning down to get her phone off the floor.

When she looked back up, she nearly fell off the couch.

Lady A had already triggered something within Jaime with the mask on.

Those feelings intensified after getting a good look at the stunning face hidden behind that mask.

And that made Jaime uncomfortable. Suddenly, the large room began closing in on her. She stood abruptly and began to pace.

Max eyed Jaime, seemingly waiting for her to continue her line of questioning. When she didn’t, he took over. “When was the last time you spoke to Miss Freeman?”

Lady A wiped a tear from her cheek. This couldn’t be happening. Not Maisie. She was so sweet, so naive. So young.

“I,” Lady A paused, trying to gather her thoughts. “Last night. We… she… I’m sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around this.”

“Take your time,” Max said gently.

Jaime’s eye twitched. Her body felt hot, and she wanted to get the hell out of this room. And here Max was, telling the dominatrix or whatever the fuck she was to take her time.

“Last night,” Jaime prompted.

Lady A looked up at Jaime with sad eyes.

“Yes. She works when I do. She brought me a drink as she sometimes did after a session. We had a conversation.” She didn’t want to tell the detectives what happened after that conversation.

Lady A was well aware of what people—cops in particular—thought of those who traded sex for money.

It didn’t matter what side of that money you were on; you were considered freaks.

She didn’t want Maisie to be thought of in that way.

“Did you have a fight?” Jaime asked. She tried focusing on Lady A’s eyes.

That was where the truth usually revealed itself.

But looking into those expressive eyes was too much for Jaime’s already overworked nerves.

There was nowhere else to look, though. The room and all the whips, binds, and…

other things caused Jaime’s pulse to spike.

Then again, Lady A in leather, with her cleavage ready to spill over the top of her corset, wasn’t any better.

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Lady A closed her eyes. She could feel Maisie’s soft skin beneath her fingertips. She remembered how Maisie’s hands shook, but still confidently touched Lady A. They did many things to each other last night. But fighting wasn’t one of them.

“I’m absolutely sure. We did not argue.”

Jaime dug her notepad out of the pocket of her blazer.

“Then why did you leave her a message saying,” she checked her notes for the quote.

“‘I wanted to apologize for tonight. I should never have allowed things to go as far as they did. I crossed the line. It’s something that will never happen again.’”

Lady A’s nostrils flared slightly with anger. “That was a private message, Detective.”

Jaime shrugged. “Privacy went out the window the moment someone carved Miss Freeman up like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

“Baros!” Max glared at her, patting Lady A’s hand as she started quietly crying. “I apologize for my partner’s lack of decorum, L….” Max ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper, short-cropped hair. “Is there something else we can call you?”

Lady A was still glaring at Jaime with tear-filled eyes. She ignored Max’s inquiry about her name. “Am I under arrest?” She wasn’t asking either of them in particular, but Jaime answered.

“Depends on your answers. What did you do that caused you to apologize? Did you feel bad after killing her?”

Lady A stood, shrugging Max’s hand off. “I did not kill Maisie.”

Jaime took a step closer. She was already pushing Lady A hard. “What were you apologizing for?”

It was a dangerous move considering her fingers itched to touch Lady A’s hair to see if it was as soft as it looked.

“Why did you call Miss Freeman at three-fifteen in the morning?” Were you just trying to establish an alibi? Jaime kept the last question to herself.

Lady A drew a deep breath in through her nose and held it for a few moments before blowing it out. “If you must know, Detective, yesterday was Maisie’s… birthday.” Again, the pang of sadness that Maisie had been murdered broke Lady A’s heart. “She bought herself a session. With me.”

“Did you do things she didn’t consent to? Is that why you killed her? So she wouldn’t report you?” Jaime ground her teeth together. This woman was throwing Jaime off her game. She was usually more tactful than this, playing her hand close to her vest.

“Could you excuse us for a minute?” Max cut in. He took Jaime by the arm, walking to the far side of the room, out of earshot. “What the fuck is going on with you?” he whispered roughly.

“Nothing.” Jaime pulled away from her partner. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Care to help me out here?”

“I am helping you by stopping you from fucking this all up, Baros. We need info from her, but you keep browbeating her like you are, and she’s going to clam up. We won’t get another shot with her without a lawyer.”

Jaime snorted. “You think prostitutes have lawyers on retainer?”

“Jesus, fuck, Jaime, get your head out of your ass! You saw this place. They probably have a whole fucking army of lawyers ready to cut our fucking balls off. Take it down a few notches, Baros. In fact, let me do the talking.”

“I got this,” Jaime growled, pissed that her professionalism was being questioned.

“No, I don’t think you do. I’m taking over. That’s a fucking order, Detective.”

Max rarely threw his higher rank in Jaime’s face. When he did, it was usually for Jaime’s benefit. Too bad her crappy attitude didn’t see that this time. Still, she saluted him sarcastically.

Max’s lips thinned, a clear sign of his annoyance with Jaime. He shook his head and walked back to Lady A.

“I’m sorry. Please understand that our main objective is to find the person responsible for what happened to Miss Freeman. I think it’s put us all on edge.” He offered Lady A a small smile. “Now, if we could go back to your session with Miss Freeman. Did something happen…”

Lady A held up her hand. She was shocked, devastated, and fucking angry.

How could anyone accuse her of hurting someone like Maisie?

“Maisie and I had sex. It was something she paid for, something she wanted. And something she could have stopped at any time if she was uncomfortable. My message was my own unease. She is…was my assistant and way too young for me. Whether she paid for me or not, I should have drawn clearer lines. I needed her to know there would be no repeat of last night.”

“Well, that was certainly taken care of,” Jaime muttered under her breath.

She clamped her mouth shut. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

But she relaxed slightly when Lady A had no reaction.

Jaime stretched her neck from side to side.

She needed to get a grip on this anger she felt—an anger that inexplicably magnified after hearing Lady A and Maisie had sex.

“Can you tell us where you were between two and four a.m.?” Max asked calmly, still eyeing Jaime with obvious disappointment.

“I left here around two-thirty. I said goodnight to Maisie, who I assumed stayed to help clean up as she normally did. I got home around three-ten, three-fifteen.”

“Did you make any stops?” Jaime asked, watching the woman carefully.

“No.” Lady A didn’t like being out after dark, and she certainly wasn’t going to stop at some random shop that just happened to be open in the middle of the night.

“Is there anyone who can verify you were home?” Jaime gripped her pen tightly as she waited for Lady A’s answer.

Did this woman have a husband? A wife? Kids?

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for women in this industry to have a separate life outside the profession.

Hell, she’d known women who were married with kids and on the PTA board and worked at one of the few brothels that were still in business.

“Derek,” Lady A muttered without thinking. She shook her head. A cat certainly wasn’t going to help her case. Especially not with this detective, who seemed hell-bent on proving Lady A was guilty. “I have a security system that logs when my doors are unlocked. You can check them.”

“Those can be unlocked from your phone,” Jaime snapped back. Derek. Probably some freeloader that gets off on knowing his woman fucks other people. Fucking Derek.

“You don’t like me much, do you, Detective?”

Jaime almost squirmed under the intense look she was receiving. “I don’t like murder.”

Lady A deliberately licked her lips and watched the beautiful woman’s eyes trail to her lips.

Is she more upset that she’s intrigued by a dominatrix or by someone she thinks could be a murderer?

Whatever the case, stop thinking how fucking beautiful she is!

Good lord, why lust after someone who would rather throw you in jail than date you?

Date?! Nope. Not going there. “I have security cameras. They will show I was home all night.” Lady A turned to Max.

“I didn’t kill Maisie. I cared about her.

Now, I’d like to be alone if there’s nothing else. ”

“One more thing.” Jaime was walking a thin line with this woman. If she lawyered up, Jaime would never hear the end of it from Max. So, she made an effort to keep her tone even. “Why do you think Frank lied to you about Maisie?”

Lady A sighed. She desperately wanted to get home to Derek and have a good cry.

“You’ve met Frank. All he cares about is money.

I assume he lied to me because a big spender here tonight paid ten thousand to be with me.

” It was irrelevant that she refused the client.

The outcome was still the same. Frank lied to her face without an ounce of regret because of money.

“If I’d known about Maisie, I wouldn’t have even shown up today. ”

Jaime was sorry she had asked. Ten thousand bucks? How magical was this woman’s pussy? She opened her mouth to say something, but Max moved in front of her, possibly saving her from saying something really stupid. Like, ‘How magical is your pussy?’

“Thank you for your time, Lady A. We’re sorry for your loss.”

Lady A nodded and escorted them to the door.

She caught Jaime’s gaze for a brief moment.

She couldn’t explain why those dark brown eyes had caused her stomach to flip, not after the interrogation she had just been put through.

But there was more behind those eyes than contempt.

Including a deep sadness. Not your problem, Lady A.

Her problem now was telling Frank she was leaving without kicking him in the balls for lying to her about Maisie.