4

No fewer than three officers walked me downstairs to my attorney. No doubt they were hoping I’d kill someone on my way out so as to make my recapture simple. Their manner was tight, closed-mouthed, and disciplined. Second body or not, these men still believed me guilty of something. I wondered how much the FBI had told the OSBI about Sarai’s disappearance.

I spotted her immediately, though lawyer was not the first, second, or even third idea I connected to her. Her hair was an unsullied white, coifed to right below the shoulders in a manner that assured she kept a professional stylist on a hefty retainer. As I got closer, I amended that to an entire professional salon on salary. Her white linen dress reminded me of Marilyn Monroe. She filled it out in a way that would have made even the first supermodel jealous. A tan, lean leg stretched from an ivory spiked high heel to a slit in her dress just before her thigh. If she had been handcuffed, I would’ve thought she was a very expensive hooker.

“If she was handcuffed, I’d ask how much.”

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, she looked over at me. I blushed, half-afraid that she had heard my lusty inner voice. The embarrassment turned to confusion as I realized my escorts were marching me directly to her. Within moments of arriving next to her, the officers scattered as if whatever she or I had was highly contagious.

“Mr. Fisher.” Her accent was vaguely continental. “I am glad you are finally free. Will you forgive me for taking so long in liberating you?”

I accepted her manicured hand and bowed to gently kiss her knuckles. “Of course, I didn’t even realize I had a lawyer. Somehow I doubt you’re a public defender.”

Her laughter was rich and throaty. “No, you’re quite right. My employer instructed me to fetch you.” She whispered conspiratorially in my ear. “There’s not enough money in the world to get me to defend some of these parasites…or to get me in handcuffs if I don’t want to wear them.”

I pulled back at that and looked her over again. She was flawlessly beautiful. Her skin was a creamy olive color that no spray or tanning bed could ever imitate. Her eyes and lips shimmered a ruby plum. I simultaneously wanted her and wanted to be nowhere near her. Had she heard my thoughts? I doubted it, but...

“I’m sorry,” she purred. “I can be a little forward. I hope I haven’t offended you.”

“No, no, you haven’t. I just…I had thought of you in handcuffs before we ever spoke and your comment caught me off guard. Great first impression on my part. Colin Fisher, horny pervert.”

She wrapped her arm around mine. “Duchess Deluce. Shall we get out of here or are you going to proposition me in front of all these officers of the law?”

There was something about her that suggested she was used to getting what she wanted from men with a whisper, a purr, and an arm-wrap. That was enough to make me want to go the other direction just to prove a point. “I’d love to, but I’ve got to find out what they did with my car.”

“Already taken care of. It’s being towed from impound to an auto shop. I can provide our transportation until she’s ready.”

“Oh. Thank you, Miss Deluce, but I don’t know that I can afford a mechanic.”

We started walking toward a series of glass doors leading out to the street. “As I said, it’s already taken care of. My employer gave me a healthy budget for this task and there’s plenty extra since I didn’t have to post bond for you or bribe any public officials. And, please, call me Duchess.”

“She corrected the name, but not the ‘miss’ part. Jackpot.”

“Hush, you. There’s clearly been some kind of mistake. I don’t have any friends rich enough to hire her to help me. We’ll be nice, meet her employer. And once he figures out I’m not the guy he thought I was, I’ll offer to pay him back out of my inheritance…assuming I haven’t been formally disinherited.”

When I looked up, we were standing beside a Lincoln MKX, a uniformed driver holding the door open for us. Duchess was staring at me, her head tilted to one side as if she were confused. I smiled and made a sweeping gesture into the vehicle. “After you, Duchess.”

As she bent over to get in the car, I duplicated the spell I had used at the store last night, imagining an eggshell-white protective layer all over. I don’t know why I did, but somehow I felt naked next to her.

“I can’t imagine why you’d associate her and nudity. Really, not a clue.”