Patricia Rosemoor - Skin

“I would advise you against getting cozy with any of the customers. Whoever he is — the killer — could be out there right now.

Lilith nearly choked on the idea. And realizing Caresse was staring at her intently, she grew flustered and dropped the tape on the floor. Swooping it up, she said, “Thanks for the tip.”

“Remember my other one — keep it professional with the men you meet here.”

Caresse was still staring as Lilith rushed out of the room, feeling anything but confident.

DETECTIVE GABRIEL O’MALLEY nearly fell out of his seat when Lilith Mitchell waltzed into the main room of the club. As the night flew by and he realized what the Mitchell woman was about, he got more and more pissed off. So what the hell did she think she was playing at?

He was sitting at the bar watching for her when she finally moved back with a new order.

“Joe, two martinis, please,” Lilith said. “One with an olive, one with an onion, both extra dry.”

“I’m backed up. It’ll be a couple of minutes.”

Gabe suppressed his anger. “I would’ve ordered for you, but I don’t know your drink.”

She seemed startled, then gave him a thousand-watt smile that almost looked natural. “Sparkling water with a twist of lime.”

She slid onto the stool he’d actually been saving for her. Gabe signaled Joe. The bartender immediately poured the overpriced water and set it down in front of her.

Joe gave her a long, hard look, though, and said, “I wouldn’t make that break too long. You’ll get your ass fired your first night.”

“Just make my drinks,” Lilith told him.

Gabe had no doubt Lilith Mitchell recognized him from her visit to the Area Office earlier, though it seemed she was playing at not letting him know that. Did she really think she could fool him after he’d seen her at the station?

Then he looked her square in the eyes. “Trying to get yourself killed, Miss Mitchell? A murderer doesn’t wear an ID across his forehead.” When she refused to react, he moved in on her and in a lowered voice said, “C’mon, I know you saw me when you were with Pucinski. Detective Gabriel O’Malley.” That’d burst her bubble if she really thought she was putting one over on him.

Jaw tightening slightly, Lilith glanced around like someone might be interested. “Keep it down, or you’ll blow your cover.”

He burned her with his gaze. “Going to a costume party?”

“Right here. What’s it to you?” She tried shrugging him off. “I can take care of myself.”

She was afraid — he could smell fear a mile away — and therefore defensive. He took a slug of his drink and slapped the glass down on the bar.

“Oh, yeah, you’re some kinda expert.” He knew about her self-defense classes. She’d been pulled out of one by a uniform. “You practice your moves, play at being mean, pat yourself on the back that you know how to defend yourself. But you ever work the streets? Ever put your life on the line for someone else? Ever look an offender in the eye and go for his cajones for real?” Seeing her swallow hard, he laughed humorlessly. “Didn’t think so. Listen, angel, leave this investigation to the pros.”

“Do something to impress me and maybe I will.”

“You think we can’t do our job?” he snapped, his irritation with her arrogance growing.

“Or don’t want to. My sister was only a low-class woman, right? One you wouldn’t find on the society pages.”

“You got a lot of nerve–”

”Hannah wasn’t the first woman the bastard took!” she interrupted in an angry whisper. “You should have caught him before he got to Hannah.”

Her fist smacked down on the bar for emphasis. The jolt up her arm made the chain she was wearing dance, and a jagged piece of gold popped free of the vest. His gaze lit on half of a broken heart.

“What if I can’t get to him before he gets to you?” he asked slowly. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Damn if she wasn’t the spitting image of the latest victim he knew was her sister. Very deliberately, he leaned closer and in a low, threatening voice, spelled it out for her.

“Looking like you do now… how many murderers can savor plotting the same woman’s death twice?”

NOT HAVING THOUGHT as far as her own possible death, Lilith couldn’t stop the chills from creeping down her spine or keep her heart from pounding. That wouldn’t happen to her, she told herself. Or Hannah. She was going to find her sister before the killer ended her, no matter what Detective Gabriel O’Malley thought. She’d recognized him the instant she’d seen him. He’d been in the Area Office, and before that, she’d seen him here the first time she’d stepped foot in the club. He was the man who’d stopped that guy with a knife.

Damn him for trying to frighten her.

Caresse, too, she thought, looking around, trying to spot evil on the hoof.

Indeed, the killer might be right in front of her, the reason she was here. Any fraternizing would be to nail him.

She returned her attention to Gabe, who seemed more relaxed now. As he swigged down the rest of his drink, Lilith wondered how best to handle him. Probably shouldn’t have been critical, definitely shouldn’t have lost her temper if she wanted him to cooperate.

She took a sip of her sparkling water as a voluptuous blond dancer wearing a see-through negligee over a satin and lace teddy sauntered over to the bar and cozied up to O’Malley, who immediately turned his rapt attention to the dancer.

But Lilith felt as if someone was focused on the back of her neck.

She turned to see Michael, again the lone occupant of a table to the rear. He was talking to a waitress — had her rapt attention — but he was staring at her as if he was shocked at her transformation.

She quickly glanced away and delivered the drinks to a man who was cover-model handsome, with blond-streaked hair and a deep tan. He wore an expensive suit and silk tie as did his companion, a little dark man with eyes that roved from girl to girl around the room as if he couldn’t get enough of them.

“Here you go. That’ll be thirty dollars.”

The blond man handed her a fifty. “Keep the change and check back on us in a while, would you?”

“Sure thing. And thanks.”

Lilith found most customers to be generous with tips. Twice she’d had to deter guys who wanted more for their money than drinks, but both times, they took her cheerful rebuke with good humor.

All night she was aware of Michael watching her. He didn’t try to approach her this time, didn’t wave her over to his table. He simply kept his intense gaze glued to her until she was unnerved.

By the time she made up her mind to approach him, he was gone.

DEPENDING ON HER LEAVING the back way, Michael waited in the alley for Lilith. He thought he’d been seeing things when she’d returned looking like Anna. When Lilith finally left the building, she walked quickly toward the street until he stepped out of the shadows.

Immediately alert, she stopped and faced him, taking a defensive stance, almost like a fighter. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Michael, trying to give a girl a heart attack?”

“Sorry if I startled you.” Not that he was trying to be threatening. Thumbs hooked in his jeans pockets, he kept his distance, only his gaze penetrating her space. This was the Lilith he’d obviously misjudged. “Can I take you for coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

“So what do I need to do to get your attention?”

Warily keeping him in her line of vision, she relaxed her fighter’s stance and made for the street without answering.

Michael walked with her, still keeping his distance. “Money?” he probed.