Murder and Mayhem by B L Hamilton Page B

scrunched it
up into a ball, and tossed it to the end of the table. “I understand,” she said
avoiding eye contact. “We’ve been having such a great time I completely forgot
why you are here.”
    Danny could see she was hurt, but there was nothing he
could do about it. “I’m sorry, Nic but that’s just the way it has to be.”
    When the waiter arrived with their food Danny ordered
a beer, Nicola a glass of white wine then they ate in silence pretending to be
engrossed in the meal.
    When Danny finished eating, he pushed his plate to one
side, ordered another beer, and watched Nicola eat. “Nic, you need to
understand the bikes are just business.”
    Nicola laid her fork on the side of the plate and
placed her hand on top of his. It felt cool from the chill of the glass he’d
been holding. Danny wound his fingers around hers and squeezed.  
    “I’m sorry Danny. I’m being unfair. Of course you need
to do this on your own. I do understand, really I do.” She hoped she hadn’t
caused a rift between them because of her stupid, childish behavior.
     
    * * *
     
    The blade sliced cleanly from ear to ear all the way
through to her spine. She dropped to her knees, her face frozen in a look of
surprise. Then, as if in slow-motion, she slumped forward like a rag doll. As
she hit the ground her head fell back exposing the bloody gaping hole in her
throat.
    Taking care not to get blood on his clothes and
sneakers, he proceeded to smash her face in with a piece of wood he’d picked
up.
    “That’ll take the fucking smile off your face, bitch!”     
     
    *****
     
    “What was that?”
    Rosie, who’d been dozing, on and off, was suddenly
awake.
    “What was what?” I said with a shrug–nonplussed.
    She glared at me accusingly. “You’ve killed her,
haven’t you?”
    It doesn’t do to give the plot away too early in a
story, so I said, “If you kill one person,
it’s only a small leap of faith to killing another.”
    “But I don’t understand why you had to kill her at
all. I liked Nicola,” she whined like a petulant teenager.
    “Because that’s what us writers do.”
    “Okay. Let’s see how you get yourself out of this
mess.”
     
    Nicola roused from her slumber…
     
    Rosie sat bolt upright. “Stop!” she demanded. “You
just stop right there, sister!”
    “What is it, Hon?”
    “What’s going on? Is Danny turning into a serial
killer?”
    “I didn’t say anything about Danny killing anyone.”
    “If it’s not Danny who’s been killing these
women−then w ho is it?”
    “Do you want to hear what happens… or not?”
    “Do I have a choice?”
    “Everyone has choices, kiddo. It’s up to the
individual to decide.”
    She harrumphed loudly and waved her hand in a
theatrical gesture. “Will you just get on with it? I haven’t got all day.”
    I was about to say, ‘Could have
fooled me,’ but instead said, “Now we come to the good bit.”
    She settled back against the
pillow… and let out a sigh. “Ah… I like to hear those bits.”
    “That’s why I write them. I like
to give you something to dream about when you close your eyes at night.”
     
    …Danny knelt on the floor beside the bed and pulled
back the sheet.
    Groggy from sleep, Nicola felt his fingers trailing a
sensual path down her body. She moaned as she felt all her senses come alive.
    His lips lightly touched her ear, his breath warm on
her face. “Are you awake,” he whispered.
    “Mmm...”
    His kisses were as soft and gentle as a butterfly on a
flower. His lips caressed her eyelids, her cheeks and her nose. When he reached
her mouth he devoured her. Then, with soft, tender kisses he worked his way
down her throat to her breast. He took one erect nipple after the other into
his mouth and sucked gently. His tongue traced a wet path around the areolas –
his teeth gently nibbled.
    Nicola let out a long slow breath and shuddered as his
hand moved slowly down her belly…, his fingers barely touching her skin.