It was late afternoon by the time she reached her apartment; but, since she worked the eleven to seven shift at night, she still had time for a quick nap before she had to shower and leave for the hospital. Luckily, she lived only a few blocks away, which was why she had opted to live on this side of town. At the age of thirty, she was the lead trauma nurse in Chicago’s largest hospital, a position she had studied and worked hard for during the past few years. Lately, though, she was finding it difficult to remain unaffected by all the tragedy, pain and suffering she dealt with almost every night. She knew she was headed slowly toward burn out and had been seriously considering transferring to another area of the hospital sometime in the near future. It was the people she was instrumental in helping, that she knew she had a hand in saving, which kept her there night after night, reluctant to make that move.
Letting herself into her apartment, she tossed her purse on the couch, closed the curtains across the large windows that overlooked a park, and threw herself down on her plush, navy sofa. She was too tired to think of anything for awhile and was asleep in minutes.
The emergency room was already bustling when she arrived at eleven. She was refreshed from her nap and shower and still invigorated from her afternoon of sex. She had next weekend off, and she was seriously contemplating attending Legends with Melanie, not in the hopes of catching whoever was responsible for those poor girls’ fate, but in the hopes of catching the attention of a very dominant man. Melanie was right, she needed to get out more.
The first half of her shift flew by. It seemed there was no end to traffic and crime victims as well as the constant steady stream of people who simply had nowhere else to go when they were ailing. Ella was just returning from her thirty minute lunch break when an ambulance pulled up and the paramedics rushed the victim into one of the curtained cubicles.
“Ella, you’re with me on this one. It looks like an OD,” Dr. Grant said as he rushed by her.
Ella followed him into the cubicle and felt her knees buckle as she gasped in shock. Melanie lay still as death on the gurney, no overt sign of trauma, which meant only one thing to Ella. She had just become the fifth victim in the date rape drug case.
Chapter Two
Ella sat at Melanie’s bedside, tears of anger and remorse drying on her cheeks. Melanie looked pale lying against the stark whiteness of the sheets, her dark hair spread out on the pillow, her equally dark eyes closed against the harsh realities of a cruel world. The emergency trauma team, including Ella, had worked on Melanie for over two hours, trying everything they knew to bring her out of coma. Nothing worked. The good news was she was breathing on her own and needed no machines to keep her alive. The bad news was she could be in this comatose state a day, a week, or indefinitely. Blood work had proven she had been given a heavy dose of the same drug as the other four girls who had died.
All the previous victims had been raped with a foreign object. Ella still hadn’t seen the results from the rape kit done on Melanie. She couldn’t think about that now; she could only concentrate on getting Mel to open those beautiful brown eyes again, so she could scold her and tell her I told you so. She had finished her shift in a daze after Melanie had been moved upstairs to a private room. She should go home and sleep and return later that day, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave her side.
A light knock on the closed door drew her attention, and she watched warily as two tall, rugged men stepped into the room. Cops, she thought with a surge of anger. Rising, she stood protectively near the bed, demanding, “What do you want?”
“Ma’am,” the light haired one replied, “I’m Sam McIntyre from Chicago PD, and this is my partner, Mac Shadetree. We’re in charge of this case. And you are?”
“Melanie is not a ‘case’, Detective. She’s a living, breathing human being and my best friend. I’d appreciate it if you would refer to her by her name.”
“I know you’re upset….”
“Ella, Ella Ward, and yes, I’m upset. If you had done your jobs better, she wouldn’t be lying here now in a coma.”
“We’re doing everything we can to catch whoever is behind these assaults, Ms. Ward,” Detective Shadetree said, his voice deep and quiet. “We’re working with a whole task force on this, and we won’t stop until they’re caught and punished for their crimes. I can assure you that.”
Both men had worked with grieving family and friends before, and it was obvious they knew how to tactfully appease them. They waited patiently for Ella to get herself under control.
Ella exhaled and slumped back into her chair. If she weren’t so upset over Melanie’s fate, she’d be able to appreciate much more the quick thrill that shot through her at the sight of the two detectives. Mac’s hair was pitch black and tied at his nape. His blue eyes contrasted sharply with his dark Indian complexion the same way Sam’s dark brown ones did against his fair hair. Both men were several inches over six feet and were dressed in jeans and sports coats that did nothing to hide the rock solidness of their bodies. At another time, in another place, she would have enjoyed, immensely, the rush of heated dampness that filled her panties at the sight of them.
“I’m sorry. I had no right to lash out at you.” She looked longingly at Melanie. “It’s just that she’s all I’ve got. I simply can’t lose her too.”
“I know it’s little consolation, Ms. Ward, but she’s alive; and, as long as she is, there’s always a chance she’ll come out of this,” Sam said. “And there is good news. Her rape kit came back negative.”
Tears of relief sprang to Ella’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. She’d wait and cry her heart out when she got home.
Mac got out a small notebook and pen before asking, “Do you know if she was a regular at Legends?”
“No, Detective. One of the other victims, Cindy Matthews, was her cousin. Last night was Melanie’s third visit there. She was trying to find clues to her cousin’s murder.”
“We don’t have to tell you how naïve that was. We really are on top of this case,” Sam said, his voice hard.
No, they didn’t have to tell her that; but, for the first time, Ella could understand what drove Melanie to take such risks. Rising stiffly, she walked past them, intending to leave before she really made a fool of herself and broke down in front of them.
“Ms. Ward, could I get your number and address in case we have any further questions for you?” Mac asked.
Ella gave them the information and accepted their cards, promising to call if she thought of anything that might help.
“Are you as hard as I am?” Sam asked of his friend and partner when the door closed behind Ella.
“So fucking hard I won’t be sitting for a while. You ever see hair that shade before?”
“It was almost white it was so blond. And those green eyes reminded me of a cat.”
Mac chuckled, “I bet she purrs really nice once the claws are sheathed. If we weren’t balls deep in this case, I’d see what she was made of.”
“Not if I got to her first,” Sam retorted.
Both men laughed softly, thinking the same thing. They’d just make it easy and share her, like they had done numerous times in the past.
A week later, Melanie still had not regained consciousness, and Ella found herself preparing to do exactly what she had cautioned Mel not to do. She was going to Legends to see what she could find out about Melanie’s attack. Now that it was someone she cared about, she couldn’t remain on the sidelines waiting for the cops to find the bastard who was preying on these girls. If she was lucky enough to catch any clues, hear any news whatsoever that might help catch this guy, she would pass it on to the detectives in charge of the case.
Nervous excitement had her palms sweating as she drew out a short, black sheath from her closet. Spaghetti straps left her shoulders bare, the scooped neckline revealed a large amount of cleavage, and the light, flimsy material did nothing to hide the shape of her bare breasts and pointed nipples. A black thong left her buttocks bare and the sensuous feel of the dress as she slipped it over head felt wonderful. Two inch black heels and the mid thigh length of the dress set off her long, bare legs.
Ella glanced in the tall mirror and quickly ran a brush through her shoulder length hair. Grabbing her small black purse, she quickly left her apartment before she lost her nerve. Legends was located a few miles outside of the city and would take about thirty minutes to get there. Though she had never been inside the popular club, she had been by it several times when heading out for a weekend of camping whenever she had a few days off.
The parking lot was crowded when she arrived, and she had to park a ways from the front entrance. Luckily, it was well lit and there were several people coming and going. The bouncer checked her ID at the door and then held it open for her. She felt his gaze on her breasts, and her nipples instantly hardened into stiff peaks. She rarely went braless, her breasts were too large; but, when she did, she loved the feel of them swaying loosely, the press of her nipples against soft material. If nothing else, maybe she would get laid later. She really ached to feel a hard cock filling her again. It had been too long since her last affair and that had been unsatisfying as usual.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked as Ella took a seat at the bar. Dressed in a white blouse and black slacks, she was short and slightly plump with curly red hair and an engaging smile.
“Rum and coke please,” Ella smiled back at her. The music was loud so she had to lean forward to be heard. Her dress gaped and the bartended blatantly took in the eyeful.
With a wink, she replied, “Coming right up.”
Tables and booths surrounded a large dance floor filled with gyrating bodies. Like several other clubs she frequented, it was crowded and noisy. The difference she quickly saw was in the open sexuality exhibited by these patrons. Her drink came, and Ella sat back to watch the scene. Several couples on the dance floor did nothing to hide their roaming hands, and the sight of breasts and asses being caressed so openly had her pussy swelling with need and dampening her thong. One man’s hand slid under his partner’s short skirt while the woman grasped his cock, rubbing him through his jeans as they ground their hips together. Such a crude and open display would have gotten them evicted from any other club; but, while here, they were watched openly and without censure.
“Would you like to dance?”
Ella looked up at the attractive man who was blatantly eyeing her exposed cleavage. “Sure.” Smiling, she downed her drink and took his hand.
Ella loved to dance, fast or slow, it didn’t matter. The popular rock tune playing had her moving and swaying to a fast beat; her partner drawing her close and swinging her away as they bumped and grinded together. Ella soon forgot why she was here and simply let herself enjoy the feel of her body swaying sensuously and the heated look of lust in her partner’s eyes. Two songs later, the tempo was reduced to a slower beat for which she was grateful. She had worked up a sweat and was out of breath when he pulled her close.
“My name’s Mark. I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Ella, and that’s because this is my first time.” Ella didn’t have a chance to say anything else before a tap on Mark’s shoulder drew his attention away from her. Irritation turned swiftly to surprise when one of the detectives she had met in Melanie’s room last week butted in.
“She’s with me,” he said curtly a hard look in his blue eyes.
“I didn’t know she was here with anyone,” Mark said.
“Now you do.”
Before Ella could dispute his claim, he took her in his arms and whisked her away. Bending over her, he whispered in her ear, “We’re undercover, so don’t blow it.”
“Mac, isn’t it?” Ella said, not at all displeased to be found held tightly in his arms.
Mac nodded as his eyes bored down into hers and his hand clasped hers tightly. “What the hell are you doing here, Ella?”
Even with her heels on, he was a good five or six inches taller than her. Looking up, she smiled sweetly, “Why, Mac, I’m just out for a good time just like everyone else.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, little girl,” he warned. “Do you want to end up like your friend?”
“I’m being careful; and, if I hear anything useful, I’ll report it to you right away.”
“What you’ll do is leave now and don’t come back. Let us handle this.”
“Is Sam here too?” Looking around, she spotted the other detective glowering at her from the bar. A thrill shot through her at his dark, possessive look. Between his stare and the lean hard body she was pressed tightly against, Ella’s body came alive with lust.
“You’re leaving. Now.”
Mac grabbed her hand and pulled her off the dance floor. Sam thrust out her purse that she had left for the bartender to watch as Mac dragged her by.
“Let go of me! You can’t make me leave!” Ella tried futilely to pull her hand from his, but his grip was tight, his tug unyielding as he dragged her out the door.
Once they were far enough away from the entrance, Mac swung around and gripped her arms. Giving her a slight shake, he stated emphatically, “I can and I will. If you make a scene, I’ll arrest you for disorderly conduct and haul your ass in. Do I make myself clear?”
Ella glared up into his furious face and backed down considerably when she noted the fear and frustration in his eyes. “I won’t blow your cover, and I’ll be careful.”
“I’ll bet that’s what Melanie said too.”
Cringing, Ella pulled away from him, somewhat surprised he let her go. “My car’s in the second row,” she said stiffly. “Thank you for walking me out.” Without a backward glance, she strode quickly to her car.
Mac watched her until she pulled away. Lust and irritation fought for supremacy as he recalled her body pressed against his. The desire in her bright green gaze couldn’t be missed; and, if they weren’t so tied down with this case, he would have loved showing her who was the boss. Getting into Ms. Ward’s pants was just one more incentive for them to find this bastard quick.
Ella spent Saturday debating on whether to return to Legends that night or not. Mac had been right, Melanie had promised she’d be careful and it had done her no good. She still ended up a victim, albeit a lucky one so far. But as she recalled her pale face and still body, she new she couldn’t sit at home tonight doing nothing. Besides, she thought, the other attacks were several weeks apart, so she felt relatively safe attending the club again tonight and maybe next weekend.