'Yes, I did,' he said, unapologetic. His heart was pounding, his blood rushing. Every cell in his body was screaming for him to reach out and grab her. To take her. To have her. 'I need to talk to you.'

She lifted her chin. 'I don't want to talk to you.'

'Fine, then we won't talk.' He took her elbow and started for the door, a little surprised when she went willingly. If she'd said no, he would have respected that. But at this moment . . . It was all he could do to keep from throwing her over his shoulder.

He walked her out the door, past the bouncer, grimly guiding her around the building, his arm around her waist. As grim as he, she kept up with him step for step. He turned the corner into the alley and finally alone, dug his fingers into her hair and ground his mouth into hers, desperately, taking what he wanted. What he needed.

With a growl that sent his pulse spiking, she grabbed the lapels of his coat and yanked herself higher, meeting his mouth with a desperation of her own. 'Damn you,' she muttered between kisses. 'Why did you follow me here?'

For a full minute he didn't answer, devouring her mouth. His palms slicked down the back of the amazing excuse for a dress, hesitating only for a moment when he encountered bare thighs before sliding up under the skirt. He groaned. Her butt was also bare, only a tiny strip of material disappearing into the cleft between her cheeks. His fingers flexed once in anticipation and then he filled his palms with smooth, soft skin. Her body jerked against him, her arms coming around his neck, one leg bending so that her thigh rubbed against his as she struggled to get closer.

His fingertips slid higher, encountering slick, wet, hot flesh and she moaned, deep in her throat. She was open to him. He could have her. Here. Now.

Now. Now. Now. The word banged in his mind as he pulled her closer, grinding his body against her, wishing they were anywhere but here. Here is good. Now is better. He nipped at her throat, grimacing when the spikes on her choker poked him.

'Take it off. Take it off now.'

She let go of him to reach behind her neck then dropped the choker on the ground. Her hands slithered back up his chest, yanking at buttons until she could put her hands on him, flattening, rubbing all over his skin while her mouth ate at his. All while her wet heat teased and beckoned. He could smell her, wanted to taste her. Needed to have her. Mine. Mine. Mine.

He sank his teeth into the curve of her shoulder as he plunged two fingers up into her and she went rigid, arching back with a strangled cry of pleasure that fired his blood.

'I want you,' he growled into her ear. 'Now.'

'Yes.' She gritted it, her head thrown back as he savaged her throat. 'Now. Do it now.' She opened her eyes and he was lost. 'Do it.'

He backed her against the wall, yanking her higher against him, groaning when she lifted both legs, cinching them around his waist. Her thighs were bare, beautifully bare, all the way to her hips across which the strings of her thong stretched taut.

She held his gaze, hers molten. Her eyes narrowed, challenging. Mesmerizing. 'Just do it,' she mouthed.

His control snapped and so did the string of her thong when he ripped it. He freed himself and plunged hard and deep, groaning as she tightened around him. Good. So good. 'Oh my God.' He plunged again, harder, faster, unable to stop. 'Lucy.'

Her nails dug into his shoulders and she thrust against him, unrestrained. Then she arched back with a strangled cry, her body going rigid as she came, hard. She was beautiful. Intensely, wildly beautiful.

Mine. It filled his mind as he plunged a final time, letting himself follow.

He rested his forehead against the wall, turning to press a kiss to her jaw. She was panting, her legs gone lax around him. Slowly he lowered her until her feet were on the ground. His body shuddered as he withdrew. She trembled, her knees locking as she leaned against the wall, keeping herself upright.

She closed her eyes, swallowed hard. 'Oh my God,' she said on a quiet exhale.

It didn't sound positive.

JD braced his hands on either side of her head, pushing back so that he could stare down at her. 'Don't ask me to say I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'Please.'

'I won't. I need to go.' She pushed at his chest and he stepped away. She tugged her dress back down over her hips and started walking.

'Lucy, wait.'

She stopped, her back to him. 'Why did you follow me?'

'Why did you lie to me?'

'I didn't,' she said hoarsely. 'I never lied to you.'

'You kept secrets.'

'They're mine to keep. Until I choose to share them, they are mine to keep.' She was shivering again.

Quickly he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, then moved to stand in front of her, needing to see her face. 'Tell me, Lucy, and I want the truth. When you said you wanted me, were you lying?'

She cocked her jaw, annoyance flaring in her eyes. 'I did not lie to you.'

'So you do want me. You wanted this.'

She was quiet a moment. 'Yes. But you are not good for me, Detective.'

He was frustrated and confused. 'I can't accept that I'm not good for you. I won't.'

'You don't understand.'

'So explain it to me,' he said urgently.

'I can't,' she said, panic inching into her voice.

He cupped her face in his palm, traced her lips with his thumb. 'I saw you,' he murmured, 'and I knew.'

'What?' she said wearily. 'What did you know? What could you possibly know?'

'That . . .' You belong to me, he thought, but didn't dare say the words aloud. 'That I felt something. An energy, an attraction. A craving. This morning, and again in there just now.' And inside you. It had never been like that before. But he didn't think she'd believe him. 'Your music. Why didn't you tell me?'

'Because this . . . This is the one place I come to be . . . me.' She hesitated, then shrugged. 'To be bad.'

His body instantly went hard and he had to take a deep breath to keep from grabbing her again. 'But?'

'I can't have this 24/7. I let myself be me here only. My daily life has to be stable.'

'Boring?'

She looked relieved. 'Yes. I hope you'll just accept that.'

'All right, but why am I not good for you?'

The relief disappeared, giving way to pain. 'Because you're not boring.'

'You mean the helmet? I don't race anymore, Lucy. I don't take risks.'

'Of course you do. You're a cop. Your life is one big risk. But this isn't about you,' she added with quiet desperation.

He frowned down at her. 'You? You're worried about you?'

'I said I was a lot of trouble. You should have listened to me.' She handed him his coat. 'I have to redo my makeup. I left it in Thorne's car.'

She walked out of the alley and toward the line of cars in front of the club. For a few seconds he watched her, too numb to react, then his brain kicked in. He scooped up her choker and the remnants of her panties, shoving them in his pocket as he took off at a jog to catch up to her. 'Lucy, wait. Stop.'

She stopped, but didn't turn around. 'Make it about the case, JD.'

Okay. Just keep her talking. 'Bennett and Edwards had their bank accounts drained after their deaths. They are connected and Mr Bennett somehow knew that.'

Slowly she looked over her shoulder. 'But what does that have to do with me?'

'Other than that they knew your brother, I don't know. Yet.' He fell into step beside her when she began walking. 'But it does. So you need to go somewhere safe until . . .'

She walked to Thorne's Mercedes, then stopped abruptly. 'No,' she whispered.

He followed her between the parked cars. 'Lucy, don't be stubborn.'

'Oh God.' She looked up at him and he could see horror in her eyes. 'Look.'

He bent around her so that his line of sight was identical to hers. And his gut turned inside out. There was someone in the car. Sitting in the passenger seat.

It was a woman, slumped against the window which was streaked with blood. The woman was dead, her face slashed but still recognizable. Her head had been beaten until it was bloody. JD swallowed hard. Her eyes were gone. Something white was in her mouth, just like Bennett that morning.

'Number two,' Lucy whispered, pale and stunned.

He thought of Malcolm Edwards, lost at sea. 'No. She's number three.'

Monday, May 3, 11.25 P.M.

'Damn,' Stevie muttered. JD had called her with the news. 'Does Lucy know her?'

He stood next to Thorne's Mercedes, while Lucy studied the victim through the window. 'She doesn't think so, but it's hard to see. There's a lot of blood smeared on the window. The victim appears to be about sixty. Her head is shaved.'

'Just like Bennett,' Stevie said. 'Who else knows you've found her?'

'I called for backup, CSU and the ME. Then I called you. There's a valet around here somewhere, but I don't see him. Everyone else is in the club.'

'Where Lucy plays an electric violin wearing leather,' she said in wry disbelief.

'Yes,' he said. Lucy was staring at the victim with a combination of horror and clinical focus. He trapped his phone between his shoulder and ear and put his coat over her shoulders again. She shot him a grateful look and pulled the coat around her.

'Hey, my reaction is mild compared to what some will say. Especially Hyatt, who's been suspicious of the doc all day. And who, I should add, you have not yet called.'

'No, not yet. I will when we're done.'

'I'll call him on my way. Hey, wait a minute. Did you say "valet"?'

The thought immediately struck him. 'Yeah. He'd have keys. Lots of keys. Hold on a minute. Hey, Lucy, did you self-park your car, or did you use the valet?'

She turned slowly, understanding in her eyes. 'Valet. It's a perk of ownership. That's how he got my car key to put Russ's heart there. I didn't think of that today. I would have told you if I had, even if it meant telling you about this place. I'm not lying.'

He believed her, but he didn't want to say so with Stevie listening. So he nodded, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. 'Yeah, she used the valet.'

'I heard,' Stevie said.

'Looks like the valet parks cars for a lot of clubs. Do you employ him, Lucy?'

'No,' she said. 'It's an independent contractor. They're a chain all over town. But I know the guy on duty tonight. He's a good kid.'

'I heard,' Stevie said again. 'I'm on my way. Hyatt will probably get there first.'

It was a warning, he knew. 'The squad cars are here. I'll secure the perimeter.' He hung up and turned back to Lucy. 'Hyatt will probably come. He's been suspicious of you since this morning.'

'Why?'

'Because you hide things,' he said.

She lifted her chin. 'It's my life. My right.'

JD might have criticized her defiant tone, but her misery-filled eyes told a different story. 'Stay here until I get the uniforms set up. Then I'll walk you inside.' He looked around, but saw nothing that looked out of place except that the valet wasn't back. Cars were starting to line up on the street. 'Don't go anywhere alone. Even the bathroom. He may still be here. Watching us. Watching you.'

'JD, he could have left this body for me to find tomorrow, but he picked here and now. And he knew I'd be driving Thorne's car. I only knew that myself a few hours ago.'

'I know. We'll make a list of everyone who knew. He could have been waiting here for you, too.' He waved to the cops getting out of their squad cars. 'Over here.'

He put one uniform next to the car, sent two others to cover the exits in the side and rear of the building, then sent the fourth to string the crime-scene tape. 'Keep your eye out for the valet, too,' he told them. 'College kid, dark hair, five ten, one-seventy, wearing a purple vest. He was out here when I got here. He may be a witness.'

'Or the perp?' one of the cops asked.

'Maybe. Window of opportunity was less than thirty minutes. I've got more backup coming. I want them to canvass the neighborhood for anyone who saw a person being put in this car. Come get me when they arrive. I'm going inside to find anyone who might have seen anything.' He took Lucy's elbow. 'Let's go.'

Lucy stood outside the club's door, hesitating. 'It's eleven thirty. Gwyn might be on.'

'That's good. I finally get to meet Gwyn.'

She pulled Fitzpatrick's coat tighter around her, thinking of what he was about to see. 'We'll see about that. Come on.'

She slipped inside the door and was stopped by Ming, the Samoan-born bouncer who was every bit as big as Thorne. 'No entry,' he boomed over the roar of the crowd, then faltered. 'Miss Lucinda. I didn't realize it was you.' His eyes narrowed at Fitzpatrick, focusing on the gun in his shoulder holster. 'Is this guy bothering you?'

Yes. 'No. This is Detective Fitzpatrick, Homicide. Detective, this is Ming.'

Ming's mouth dropped open. 'Homicide. What homicide?'

'The one outside,' Fitzpatrick said. 'I'm going to need to take your statement. Where have you been for the last half-hour?'

'Here.' Ming's eyes flashed to Lucy's, panicked. 'I swear it.'

She laid her hand on Ming's arm. 'Just answer what he asks. You'll be fine.'

'But who died?'