Hooked by Polly Iyer Read Free Book Online Page B

damn door and turn off the camera.”
    Colin took the DVD control and punched the buttons he’d programmed to shut off the hidden camera, then went for the bed and Cindi. Benny hovered over Melody.
    “I can’t find a pulse, Benny.” Colin examined Cindi. “Christ, looks like she’s seen the inside of a trash compactor. What did he do, sit on her?”
    Benny’s stomach churned with acid as if he’d eaten his mother’s lethal matzoh balls. “Melody’s still breathing.” He rushed to Cindi and put his hand on her neck. Then he listened to her chest. “I can’t get a pulse.”
    “Should I call an ambulance?” Colin asked.
    Benny leapt to his feet. “Are you crazy? The cops will be all over this place.” His thoughts went to Serena Marshall, lying somewhere on a cold slab, and a wave of guilt streaked by like lightning. He and Colin had discussed the ex-employee when the news identified her as the woman in the harbor. “The cops can’t prove Serena was connected to us. If we call this in, they’ll know for sure. Then they’ll think we had something to do with her death. They’ll close us down in less than a heartbeat, put us all under the microscope. We’ll be ruined.”
    “But we had nothing to do with Serena’s death,” Colin said defensively. “It had to be a john or a crazy.”
    “Whatever happened, she’s dead, and she worked here. How long do you think it’d take for them to find one of the girls if they make the connection? I’ll tell you how long.” He snapped his fingers in Colin’s face. “That long.”
    “What are you going to do about Cindi’s body? And about Melody?”
    “I can’t have Melody turning up at the hospital.” He pulled out his cell. “Why me, God?” he mumbled. “What did I ever do except to make people rich and happy?”
    “Who are you calling?” Colin asked.
    “A friend. Call your boyfriend and tell him to get his ass over here.”
    Colin’s lover, an over-developed ex-boxer by the name of Reggie Cart, held a variety of jobs, none of which required more than a minimal IQ or conscience. Whenever Benny thought of puny Colin and his muscle-bound partner going at it, he couldn’t help smirking. Not tonight. Tonight, they were the perfect couple, and he needed them both.
    “Reggie’s not a bloody undertaker; he’s a thug. Besides, he’s driving a cab tonight.”
    Benny ignored the undertaker description. “Perfect. He’ll need a car.”
    “What if Cindi has family?”
    “She’s from Kansas ,” Benny said. “Those people hardly ever leave their farms. Besides, she hasn’t been here long enough for them to know what she was doing. She probably didn’t even have friends.”
    “She’s friends with Melody.”
    “Melody’s a different―Hello?” He raised a cautionary finger as he talked. “Max, Benny. I need your help.”
    * * * * *
    C olin ushered Max Kaufman into Benny’s apartment. Melody lay on the same bed where she’d serviced Benny that afternoon, only now she was out cold. First, Max examined the gash on her head, then checked her heart, pulse, and eyes. He opened his black bag and took out his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. While Max examined her, she regained consciousness but acted disoriented. Benny gave her a sip of brandy. He didn’t want to ask her any questions with his friend in the room, and thankfully she kept her mouth shut.
    After Max finished checking Melody’s vitals, he cleaned and bandaged her head. He asked her a few questions, which she answered without slurring. She moaned Cindi’s name. “I think she’ll be all right,” Max said. “She might have a mild concussion. I can’t be sure without further tests.”
    “I’ll take your first diagnosis,” Benny said. “She’ll be all right.”
    “Wake her up a few times tonight to make sure she’s okay. I’m going to write down some of the symptoms you should watch for. If any last an extended period of time, get her to a hospital. And no aspirin.