Chapter Twenty Three

Brian Reed was still sitting with Goldie, but his attention was focused on Queen Bee as she wrapped up her performance. Of course he tried to not be obvious, using his peripheral vision and listening to Goldie just enough to mumble yeah, uh huh, and so on at appropriate moments, and most of all making occasional eye contact with her and smiling when it seemed to be called for. The second bottle of champagne didn’t hurt either. Hell, tonight Goldie was making the kind of money Queen Bee usually did.

Everything was fine until he noticed the well-dressed man enter the establishment and take over Queen Bee’s time.

Damn it! I hate Plan B, always have.

As if reading his mind, Goldie started swooning over the fucker. “Oh, hell, that’s Terry Ransom.”

“As in Ransom Brewery?” he asked, showing the first spark of real interest.

“Yeah. He saved her when she was being harassed in the alley. Bigots, you know. Why, she said they would have beaten her to death if he hadn’t been there. He’s so sweet. He even went back and got her shoes because she had kicked them off when she ran away. Talk about a hero,” she sighed.

“Do you think he thought she was a woman?” He only asked because Queen Bee was far more beautiful than the women one typically saw in bars and clubs. She sure as hell looked like a woman to him. It was the reason she pulled in so much money, no doubt.

“He probably did. Everybody else does. But he knows her truth now and he couldn’t care less. They’ve been inseparable since they met, you know. It’s a true Cinderella story—shoes and all, mind you.”

Well, he couldn’t argue with that, even if it did royally fuck up his plans of murder and mayhem. He snuck a peek at Queen Bee and her suitor and their body language said it all: he was leaning in, hanging on her every word. She had her hand delicately placed on his forearm, staring into his eyes like he held the secrets to the universe. One thing was for sure: Ransom wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight. Kidnapping her would be all but impossible. In other words, it wasn’t fucking happening. Damn it.

Yes…moving on to Plan B. He’d just have to make do with Goldie. Brian directed all of his solicitous attention toward Goldie, and she preened and shifted in her seat.

It was kind of like when you were missing an ingredient but you were intent on that one recipe and just wouldn’t give up. This time, it was a recipe for murder. He definitely had the itch. He was too far gone to put off the kill any longer. His intrigue with killing married women would have to be put on hold. He could break the rules just this once. He was the one with all the power, after all. He was a god, or so he believed.

“I’ve got to go to the ladies’ room,” Goldie batted her false eyelashes and pushed a lock of her signature golden hair off her face.

‘Bout damn time. He smiled back, revealing perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. His smile made it so easy for him to pick up women, regardless of his intentions. He wasn’t ugly as far as his looks were concerned. It was only when he got his victims alone that he became that person.

He ducked under the ball cap that had been hiding his features, ensuring no one would be able to identify him when the police questioned the customers in the crowd. One good thing about these places was that people were focused on the action at their table and not what was going on around them. Goldie was the only person who’d even gotten a good look at him and she’d been more interested in her cut of the bill she expected to get at the end of the night.

He got up fingering the syringe in his pocket and strolled easily across the room to the darkened hallway. He stood outside the restroom and waited. When she exited the bathroom and stepped into the hall, she saw him standing there. She smiled with pleasure at his charming smile and melted eagerly into his arms. As he kissed her, she never saw it coming when he jabbed the needle into her neck.

Goldie was wobbly on her legs like a newborn colt but could move well enough when he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her up. Together they went out the back door, where he used his foot to prop the door open with a rock, then heaved her into the cargo van he’d parked in the alley.

When he had her safely tucked in, he went back inside. He kicked the rock out of the way so the door would shut behind him, then he strolled through the bar. He appeared to be just another patron who had to cut his evening short because of an early schedule the next day. He strolled to the end of the building, then turned and hustled through the alley to the van. After a quick glance in the back to make sure all was well, he drove away with his new toy.