Prey of Desire (2 page)

“He’s a
shrink,” she said.

Thirty
minutes later Kim and Mallory appeared at the top of the spiral staircase and
posed like fashion models on the steps. Mallory swayed her hips and shoulders,
her body squeezed into a tight, short-skirted, royal blue slip of a dress. Her
eyes were outlined in dark mascara, her lips in scarlet, and her silky red hair
pinned-up and wrapped around her head like a crown. She waved to Addison and
blew him a kiss.

Kim,
dressed in the red gown with leopard print breasts, her hair piled into a mass
of black curls atop her head, stretched her arms and mimicked an exaggerated
pose from a fashion magazine.

“Well,
Addison,” Mallory said in a husky voice. “Get a load of us.”

“Were we
worth the wait?” Kim blushed, a little embarrassed. Addison looked up at them.
He flashed a vague smile, stepped back,
then
shook his
head.

“Frankly, no.”
He took
Mallory's coat from the entry hall closet and moved toward the front door.
 
His arm bumped the keys hanging on a hook and
they dropped to the floor with a rattling clink. Addison bent over to pick them
up as he glanced at his wrist watch. “We should've departed an hour ago.”

“But
doesn't Kim look delicious?” Mallory insisted, as if completely oblivious to
his bad mood. She stretched her arms outward to present her creation to the
awaiting public. “I picked out the gown myself.”

“Yes.
Simply divine.”
Agitation grew in his voice. “I'm sure
she'll have the attention of every man in attendance. Now, I must insist. We're
in a fantastic hurry.” After returning the keys to the hook on the wall, he
held up the coat and opened the door.

Mallory
hesitated.

“Every man?”
Her
eyebrows narrowed. “You really think Kim looks that hot?”

“She's
positively breathtaking.
Stunning.
Exquisite.” The
coat still in his arms, he pointed to his watch. “Now, it's almost nine o'clock…”

Mallory
paid no attention. She was studying Kim with her arms crossed.

Kim took
a quick breath of utter astonishment. “What's wrong now?”

“I'm
sorry Kimberly, but you just can't leave the house wearing that outfit.”
Mallory shook her head, placing her hands on her hips. “You look like a drag
queen in a Madonna video.”

“You want
me to change? We don't have time.”

“Girls
please!” Addison flailed his arms. He dropped the coat.

“I know!
I know,” Mallory said, pushing Kim back upstairs. “We're in a fantastic hurry.”

* * * * *
* *

Next
door, inside Kim's dark townhome, the front door unlocked and creaked open.

A man
stepped into the living room, the porch light bright behind him. He shut the
door, locked it,
then
took a flashlight from his
jacket. The long, narrow beam pierced the blackness as he stepped through the
townhome.

The
kitchen was obviously a mess. Even in the limited light he could see the grime
from the garbage disposal that covered the sink and cabinets; soggy towels laid
across the floor.

The man
moved from the kitchen and aimed the light back toward the living room, shining
it on the wrought-iron staircase spiraling up to a bedroom loft. Cautiously, he
stepped upstairs.

Clothing
was scattered on the floor and from the radio beside the bed came a quiet
static. The man moved to the bed, setting down the flashlight. He glanced out
the sloping skylight above it. He was alone, engulfed in darkness.

Quickly
he turned, grasped the bed sheets and pulled them to his face, inhaling deeply.
Shutting his eyes, he sighed.

From the bedroom window, he watched Kim
and Mallory leave for the night, alone.

2

New Year’s Evil

Two hours
late and without their escorts, Mallory, dressed in the red designer gown with
leopard print breasts, and Kim, dressed in a conservative navy skirt and
matching jacket, her face intelligently framed with reading glasses, made their
way through the wrought iron security gates and entered Black Moon Manor, the
Congressman's estate. Gliding up the sweeping stone steps leading to a grand
front entrance, they smiled at the valets and held out their hands to the
attendants at the front door.

“I can't
believe Addison left us.” Kim handed her wrap to an attendant. “I told you we
shouldn't have changed clothes again.”

“Pipe
down, darling,” Mallory answered her rather flatly. “It's fashionable to be
late.”
     

“Where's
the shrink?” Kim couldn't believe the number of people around them, getting out
of cars and making their way inside. The muffled beat of music pounded from the
mansion ahead. It was almost too much.

Mallory
took Kim's hand and pulled her forward. “The dashing Dr. Whitman is probably
inside some-where, pouring you a drink.”

They
entered the mansion, stepping into a brilliant foyer decorated with ferns and
statues. The floor was black marble and Kim could actually see her reflection
beneath her feet. She couldn't believe she let Mallory talk her into leaving
her contacts at home and wearing those stupid glasses.

She
started to say something when she noticed Mallory focused intently on the room,
smirking, apparently satisfied with what she saw. Leaning toward her ear,
Mallory took her by the arm and whispered.

“Dogs -
they're all dogs.” Her voice dripped with judgment. “If someone brought a quail
inside, I bet every woman in this room would stand up and point.”

“You're
awful…” Kim looked around to see if anyone had overheard them.

The New
Year's Eve party was a gala event. In the glitter of the fashionably dressed
crowd, Kim spotted many familiar faces - all famous: Sports heroes.
Newscasters.
Politicians.
Television stars. And the host, Congressman William Dietz, was at the center of
it all.

Kim
judged him to be in his late thirties, if not forty, but that assessment was
based purely on media reports and his career position. Physically, he looked to
be in his mid-thirties. His hair was thinning ever so slightly above his
forehead, and it gave him an air of sincerity and down-to-earth ruggedness. His
body leaned toward the stocky side, despite media buzz that he was an ardent
jogger. And he had an infamous claim to fame.

Twenty-five
years ago, his older, high school brother was murdered in the dark lake just
beyond the estate. The popular senior on the varsity wrestling team had snuck
away to go skinny dipping with a freshman girl. His body was found floating,
decimated, missing his right eye. Her body was still missing to this day. And,
it was a mystery that had never been solved. Locals claimed a gator attacked
the kids. It was the only explanation that made sense. Of course, there were
whispers of murder.

Even Kim
and Mallory knew of this legend, but it wasn't on the forefront of their minds
this once-in-a-lifetime New Year's Eve. They simply wanted to thank him for
extending the invitation. Unfortunately, by the time they made their way across
the room to talk to him, Congressman Dietz was surrounded by hordes of people.

With no
alternative, the girls walked away. Mallory announced she was finding Addison
and coaxing him onto the dance floor. Kim tried to protest as he was still
clearly nowhere to be found.

As
Mallory wandered away, Kim accepted a glass of wine from a passing waiter. She
wondered what had happened to her date. The shrink wasn't here, she was pretty
sure of that. And it only proved that she didn't belong here either.

At least
holding a glass of wine would make her look like she belonged. So much had
already happened this evening, she thought. And it was as if each incident was
screaming at her to just go home and forget the whole night.

She was
lost in thought when a waiter nudged her again, slipping a folded note into her
hand.

“A
gentleman asked that I give this to you.”

Kim
thanked him and unfolded the paper. A message had been scribbled on it: “
If
you forget me, there's something I want you to know.”
She shook her head.

“Ross,”
she sighed. Three weeks, four days, and eighteen hours. Now he was crawling
back to her. She looked back at the waiter. “Who gave this to you?”

“He
didn't leave a name, ma'am.”

“Can you
point him out?” She scanned the crowded room and studied all the people
laughing and drinking. She expected to see him standing in the corner, smiling
at her. But he wasn't among them. The waiter turned his head.

“I don't
see him,” he said.

“What'd
he look like? Was he tall, swimmer's build, early twenties, with short black
hair?”

“I'm
sorry. I just wasn't paying attention. I was serving drinks and he came up
behind me. I didn't really get a good look...”

Searching
the room, her eyes studied each guest. She moved slowly through the crowd,
then
turned focusing on every face. She couldn't take her
mind off the note: “
If you forget me, there's something I want you to know.”
She knew precisely what it meant. He was here. Somewhere, Ross was here. But
had he come back for her? Distracted, she walked right into the Congressman.
SMACK! His hand jerked backwards, spilling wine down the front of his tuxedo.
Surprised, Kim stepped back.

“I'm so
sorry.” Her heart stopped and she nearly dropped the glass.

“Don't
worry about it... the tux is rented.” He laughed, glancing at the mess she
made. Kim took her napkin and gently dabbed at the wine dripping down the front
of his jacket.

“I can't
believe I just did that.”

“You're
Kimberly Bradford, aren't you?” he asked. Kim stopped dabbing and looked up
into his face. He was smiling at her. “You're friends with Addison Gaynor.”

She
opened her mouth slightly, searching for the words. “You're... you're not a
shrink, are you?”

“No. I'm
William Dietz, your friendly neighborhood Congressman.” His grin widened.
  
“Mr. Gaynor told me of your recent and
unfortunate separation. He also told me that you're attending my little party
unaccompanied.”

“Really?”
Kim
thought that was odd. She pushed the reading glasses up further on her nose. “I
just don't know where my date is.”

“Well,
whether he turns up or not, I hope you'll save a dance for me.” The Congressman
took her hand in his.

“Of course.
It would
be my pleasure.” She forced a thin smile. The mob of people who had followed
and surrounded the Congressman all evening long returned, pushing Kim out of
the way. But despite the swarming commotion, he never took his eyes off her.

“I'll be
looking for you later.” He kissed the back of her hand,
then
turned, slipping between two small groups of people loitering by the buffet and
holding little plates of hors d'oeuvres. A moment later he was gone, swallowed
by the crowd.

Kim set
down her empty wine glass and raised a hand to her flushed face.

Ten
minutes later, she found Mallory in the powder room, engrossed with her image
in the mirror, reapplying a heavy coat of lipstick. Kim approached her, holding
up the note.

“I've got
news,” she said, excitement creeping into her voice. “Look what the waiter
handed me.”

Mallory
didn't even acknowledge her. Kim continued anyway.

“Ross is
here. He wrote this note.” She paused looking around the lavatory. “I wouldn't
be surprised if he's hiding in here somewhere, spying on us right now!”
Paranoid, Kim turned to the water closet behind them. Mallory glanced at the
note, but still showed little interest.

“There's
a blonde here with breasts out to there.” Mallory held her arms out in front of
her body to describe an exaggerated size of her own breasts in the leopard
print material. “She thinks she's got every guy here drooling but I don't think
anybody really believes that boobs just accidentally pop out at inappropriate
moments. Like they need to come up for air or something…”

“Mal,
listen to me. Ross is here. He sent me a note. Do you know what this means?”

“I think
she's trying to start a music career or something,” Mallory said, once again
puckering at her image in the mirror. “But she'd better watch herself. I may
just take her out right here in front of everybody, boobs and all!”

“Mal, I'm
having a crisis. Are you even listening to me?” Kim shoved the note in her
face. Mallory put down the lipstick.

“No, I'm
not listening. If I don't ever hear Ross' name again, it will still be too soon!”
She twisted shut the tube of lipstick, then grabbed the note. She glanced over
it. “He didn't even sign this. How do you know this is from Ross?”

The
lavatory door opened, interrupting the girls. Making a grand entrance, the
well-endowed blonde walked inside the powder room. Mallory glared at her. The
blonde glared back and then stepped into the water closet, shutting the door.

“She
thinks she's so hot,” Mallory grumbled.
“Slutty Miss
Stillwater 1995.”

Kim
looked back at the note. “I can't believe Ross has finally come back…”

Outside
the powder room, Kim and Mallory wandered toward the ballroom. Men and women
were dancing around them as a live band played “Mambo No. 5.”

Kim
glanced at the black tie crowd then sighed.

She had
to yell at Mallory to be heard over the rhythmic beat of the song. “Where's
Addison?”

“I
haven't seen him all evening.” Mallory focused on the crowd.

Kim
glanced at the band. “Maybe he went home with the shrink.”

“They're
both here, somewhere,” Mallory yelled.

“I just
want to find Ross.”
       

“You're
making too much of this!”

“He's
come back to me. Come on, help me find him.” Kim tugged on Mallory's arm,
trying to lead her away from the dance floor. Mallory resisted and drew back
her arm.

“He was
your high school boyfriend,” she said. “High school is over. Let him go.”

“We're
soul mates,” she insisted. “This note is proof that he's realized that too.”
Kim suddenly stopped walking, her exit blocked by a man.

Tall and
athletic, he approached the girls.

“Prospero
Año
Nuevo,” he said with a heavy Cuban accent, his
voice deep. “You would like dance?” He was dark and Hispanic with smoldering
good looks and a boyish charm. His white tuxedo shirt and black pants strained
to contain a muscle-beach-boy body that had brought his major league career
strength, speed and steroid speculation. He seemed entranced with Mallory,
staring intently into her eyes.

“Have we
met?” Mallory flashed him a wicked grin as she stroked her bottom lip with her
index finger.

“I'm The
Gunz
,” he said to her. “We should dance?”

Mallory
laughed, batting her eyes. Kim nudged her, trying to get her attention.

“Mal, I'm
in crisis mode and you're flirting with a stranger!” Kim said. Clearly, Mallory
didn't hear a word. She was focused on the athlete in front of them.

“You look
familiar...” Mallory cocked her head and put her index finger to her lip as if
his name was on the tip of her tongue. “Are you famous?”

The man
smiled broadly. He only got better looking.

“I'm Antonio
Gonzales, Second Baseman.” He spoke as if he hoped to elicit a response of
recognition, but Mallory stared blankly at him. Seemingly, taken off guard, he
stumbled to explain himself.
“The New York Yankee's.
We just swept Atlanta in the World Series.”
  

Mallory
stared wide-eyed. She didn’t blink. He continued.

“I was on
the cover of Sports Illustrated.”

Mallory
looked as perplexed as ever; it meant nothing to her. Kim intervened, placing a
hand on Mallory's shoulder.

“Maybe if
you had been on the cover of Forbes,” she suggested. Mallory gently pushed her
aside and smiled at the man.

“So,
second baseman...” Mallory's eyes sparkled, her left hand lightly grazing his
massive right biceps barely constrained in its shirt sleeve. “You play football.”

“Baseball,”
he corrected.

Mallory
laughed again, excited. She then locked her arm in his, leading him to the
dance floor.