Brian Freeman - Stalked

Serena hesitated. When she saw Lassiter wriggling in Brandt's grasp, she was convinced that this was not playacting or fantasy. She couldn't let this go on.

" Stop! " Serena shouted.

The people in the room heard the muffled voice and looked up, confused and aghast. Brandt made no move to stop.

Serena bolted out of the hideaway and took the stairs two at a time. She thundered through the house and found the main stairway leading to the basement and the oak door that led to the temple. Her shoulder collided with the door, and it flew around on its hinges. She ran into the fragrant room.

A dozen naked people screamed and covered themselves with their hands. They dove to the floor. Sonia's face was screwed up with rage.

Serena focused on Brandt, who shoved Lassiter down onto her back and threw his full weight on top of her. Breath expelled from her chest like air from a popped balloon. He kept whispering, and her eyes turned moon-white. She tried to speak again, but her pleas were smothered.

"Get off her now!" Serena screamed, running to the bed.

She clawed at Brandt's shoulder, but he was deadweight. Serena delivered a backhand fist to the side of Brandt's head, her knuckles cracking sharply on his temple. Brandt reared back in pain and toppled away from Lassiter, who squirmed from under him. He cleared his head and clutched for her again, but Serena used the palm of her hand to jab directly into his forehead. His head snapped; he groaned and fell back, sliding off the slippery silk onto the floor.

Lassiter scrambled off the bed. Brandt staggered to his feet and took a few unsteady steps. The other members of the club were paralyzed, hiding by the walls and on the floor. Serena eyed Brandt and angled her body so that Lassiter was behind her. He stared at both of them, his face screwed up with rage, and then shifted his attention to the others as if he was noticing them for the first time.

"Fuck all of you," he hissed.

Brandt ran from the room. One of the men grabbed for him, but Brandt shoved him hard, and he fell back, collapsing into one of the tables and spilling wine bottles onto the floor. Shiraz flowed like blood, and sharp triangles of glass scattered on the carpet. Brandt wrenched open the temple door and slammed it behind him. His footsteps pounded upstairs.

"Are you okay?" Serena asked Lassiter.

"I'm fine," Lassiter said, her face dark. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm a friend of Lieutenant Stride."

"Well, you shouldn't have interfered."

Serena backed up. "What?"

"You should have stayed out of it," Lassiter repeated.

"He was assaulting you," Serena protested. "He could have killed you."

"You don't know anything."

Sonia joined them. Her pale skin was white, and her eyes were wild and on fire. "How dare you," Sonia hissed. "Get the hell out of here."

Serena ignored her. "What did he say to you?" she asked Lassiter.

"He didn't say anything."

"I saw him whispering to you."

"He didn't say anything," Lassiter insisted.

Serena put her lips close to Lassiter's ear. "I can get the police in from outside."

" No ." Lassiter shook her head. "I need to get out of here. Right now."

"Let me help you," Serena said.

"I don't need any help."

"Are you sure you don't need a doctor?" Serena asked.

"I just need to get away from here."

Serena called after her as Lassiter broke from the others and made her way to the door that led out of the temple. "Wait, he could still be in the house."

"No, he's gone," Lassiter replied. "He's not coming back."

That's Mitchell Brandt," Stride said. He put his coffee cup on the dashboard of the Cadillac and leaned forward to watch.

"He's in a hurry," Teitscher said.

Brandt slammed the front door of Sonia Bezac's house and ran down the sidewalk toward the street. His open coat billowed behind him. He wore black jeans and an untucked, unbuttoned dress shirt. The shirt fell open, and they saw his bare chest. He took off across the street, dodging through the headlights of a car that blared its horn at him. He climbed into a dark Porsche.

"I don't like this," Stride said.

"Should we pick him up?"

"No, let's see where he goes."

Teitscher radioed Guppo in a tan Caprice around the corner. "Brandt is on his way. He's hauling ass. Stay on his tail, but don't make it obvious."

The Porsche shot off down the residential street and vanished, heading into the steep curves leading toward the lake. The Caprice accelerated onto the same street moments later.

"Do you want to go in?" Teitscher asked.

"Not yet."

They waited fifteen minutes. The other members of the club streamed out of the house in pockets of ones and twos, hiding their sullen faces from each other as they left. They formed a procession out of the neighborhood, and soon headlights swung past them one after another, driving fast.

Serena was among the last to leave. She took quick, tight steps from the house. Her down vest was unzipped, and her face was tense with worry. She eyed the people around her and then bent down and scrambled inside the backseat of the Cadillac. She fell back against the leather seat and whistled long and loud.

"What the hell happened in there?" Stride asked.

Serena put her elbows on the front seat between them. "Brandt freaked."

"What?"

"He attacked Kathy Lassiter right in front of everyone."

"Did someone stop him?"

Serena nodded. "I did. Lassiter says she's okay, but Brandt was out of his skull. When I broke it up, he bolted."

"We saw him. Guppo's on his tail."

Teitscher was still watching Sonia's front door. "What set Brandt off?"

"I don't know. He was on edge all night. He never took his eyes off Lassiter."

"What about you?" Stride asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but you know what they say to do when you're nervous? Just imagine everyone naked and you'll relax? It doesn't work when they're really naked."

Stride couldn't help but laugh.

"Perverts," Teitscher snapped.

"Do you think Brandt is our man?" Stride asked. "Could he have attacked the other women?"

"I don't know. This wasn't random. It was more like he had a grudge against Lassiter."

"Did something happen between them?"

Serena shook her head. "No, that's it, nothing happened. He came into the room with a hard-on for her, if you know what I mean. It was personal."

"Personal? Like they knew each other?"

"I think so, yeah."

Teitscher glanced at Stride. "What do we know about Lassiter?"

"Not enough," Stride said. He was angry with himself.

"She's a lawyer, right?" Serena asked. "See if her law firm has a bio on their Web site."

Stride grabbed his laptop and ran a search that led him to the law firm's home page. He drilled down to the lawyer biographies and pulled up a page for Lassiter that included a photo and a summary of her practice areas and experience. He read through the narrative and then swore and slammed the cover down.

"Kathy Lassiter is outside counsel for Infloron Medical."

"You think she fed advance info on the FDA approval to Brandt?" Serena asked. "And he used it to do inside trades?"

"Either that, or she's the one who fingered him to the SEC. Proutz in Chicago said they got an anonymous tip."

Teitscher was frowning. "What do you want to do?"

"Pick him up," Stride said. "He assaulted her. We can use that to hold him."

"We need to make sure the net around Lassiter is secure," Serena added. "Brandt may go after her again, and if he's not our guy, then she's got two people who may be gunning for her."

Teitscher stared at Sonia's front door. "We have a problem."

"What is it?" Stride asked.