“Ready?” he asked as he popped his trunk.
“As I’ll ever be.”
My boots crunched on the gravel, and we didn't waste any time. Drakos shed his suit jacket and tie, then grabbed the heavy end of the first tarp as I took the other. We hauled one of the bodies out of the trunk and shuffled to the edge of the hole someone had dug earlier. It was a dark, ominous maw in the ground.
“Drop on three?” I suggested, wiping sweat from my brow with my shoulder. He grinned and nodded. We swung the body and let go, and it hit the bottom of the hole with a deep thud.
The half-moon illuminated the clearing, giving the whole area an eerie, surreal glow. I glanced at my companion, wondering how I had ended up here and where this night was headed.
The second body followed the first, and then Drakos handed me a shovel. As we covered the hole back in with dirt, I became drenched in sweat. Drakos studied me silently as we worked, and I wondered what he thought of this whole business.
When we finished, I stood back. “Let’s throw a few rocks on top. We don't need the coyotes digging them up.” I slammed the disturbed earth flat with the back of my shovel, and he found a few rocks.
“Such a professional,” Drakos murmured as he stowed the shovels back in his trunk and brushed his hands together when we finished.
We both admired our work—almost like we’d been planting a garden together. The quiet desert surrounded us, save for the occasional owl or gust of wind rustling through the brush.
Drakos turned to me. “Okay, Lollipop, what's your real name? Or should I call you Harley Quinn?”
“Come on, Jack. Why would I tell you?”
He stepped toward me with serious eyes. “There’s no way we’re leaving here before you tell me your real name and why you killed LeBaron. You knew that before driving out here. Don’t make me force you.”
My hackles rose. “You could try.”
Drakos plucked the wig off my head a split second before I jumped out of reach. I hadn’t even thought about going for my gun.
“Ouch, goddamn it! That hurt.” I rubbed where the adhesive tape had ripped out strands of my real hair, and scratched at my itchy, sweaty scalp.
Drakos searched my messy blond hair and face in the dim light. “I know you.” His eyes slid over me again, and he straightened. “You’re a fuckingSpade.”
From his violent reaction, Drakos knew about my illustrious family and didn’t think much of us. His eyes squinted slightly as though he were mentally rummaging through my family tree, and I waited for him to place me as I bent down and picked up the wig.
Drakos burst into an ugly grin, his white teeth gleaming. “Fuck me, you’re Sylvie Spade. I hear you like to play with dead people.”
My temper flared, and old hurt slid through me. “I’m not into necrophilia, you asshole. I’m a mortician and a damn good one.”
“I should've guessed which Spade you are from your morbid charm and complete lack of squeamishness with dead bodies.” He folded his arms, muscles rippling beneath his shirt. “Your family is a fascinating bunch," he continued, thumbing the edge of his jaw thoughtfully. “And what a strange array of businesses you own. Mortuaries, marijuana, and money laundering.” He leaned forward and his face went hard. “Your fucking cousins are applying for a marijuana grow license in my neighborhood.”
Did he hate me because ofthat? I raised an eyebrow. “I heard. Hate to break it to you, dumbass, but you live in anindustrial area, where establishments like that are supposed to go. I know about you and your partners’ businesses too. Strip clubs, gambling technology, andalsomoney laundering. You probably sell babies on the black market too, but I think your law practice is the most disreputable business you own.” I folded my arms under my breasts.
He glanced down at my chest, and his lips curled into a nasty grin. “We could stand here all night comparing sins, but I’m more interested in going back to my loft and washing off tonight's work in the shower together. We could scrub each other’s backs, suck each other off, then fuck against the shower wall and finish in bed. We should be able to screw each other out of our systems by dawn, and then discuss what’ll happen if you tell anyone about tonight.”
“I’msoootempted. You’re propositioning, insulting,andthreatening me all at once. No one can fault your multitasking abilities.” His words stung even as heat crawled through my system. I dismissed his lecherous smirk, even if my insides spasmed a little at the vision of this man naked and soaped up while he slammed me up against his shower wall.
“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you thoroughly enjoy yourself.”
Annoyance coursed through me along with the lust. “Your crude, insulting offer is tempting, Lucifer, but I’ll have to decline.”
He studied my face. “It’ll be therapeutic for both of us. I’m dealing with a little post-adrenaline rush, and I bet you’re pretty enough to fuck under all that makeup and dirt.” Dark amusement laced his voice.
Disappointment and hurt clashed against the desire. It was a strange concoction, but then again, it’d been a strange night. My heart ached when I remembered why I killed Samuel LeBaron. I smelled like sweat, cheap beer, and secondhand marijuana smoke, and suddenly I just wanted to go home.
My eyes itched, and I was bone-tired from standing all day trying to put back together a traumatized corpse for an open-casket funeral. Then we buried two corpses in the hot August night. It had been a day full of dead bodies.
“Therapeutic for both of us? You’re treating me like a ten-dollar whore, and you don’t even know me.” I looked down at my unfettered breasts and sleazy halter dress. “Granted, I may look like one, but I thought you were smart enough to look past the disguise. My mistake.”
He gazed at me and cocked his head. “I apologize if I offended you.”