Urban Renewal (Urban Elite Book 1) by Suzanne Steele, Stormy Dawn Weathers

you’re a leg man, ‘cause Val be lookin’ all like a Barbie doll and shit. What do you mean, employee?”
    “I bought the old motel on West Jefferson and she’s working there for me.”
    “I get it. So you’re the Urban Elite I’m hearing about on the streets. You got everybody out here all worked up, putting up your big-ass fence around the place. What you doing down there in that fortress?”
    “I’m training a team of private investigators.”
    “You don’t say,” she purrs. “Maybe you’d like to train me.” She waggles her eyebrows at me suggestively. Lady and I have a long history and I know her well enough to know she’s joking, so I play along. But I’m hoping to give her something to think about.
    “Lady Luck, darlin’, you clean up your act and get off these mean streets, and I might just do something about that.”
    “Ha! I ain’t comin’ to work for you. You’re too damn bossy.”
    “And booshie,” Max chimes in.
    “Damn, you got that right, girl! He booshie as hell!” Lady hoots with laughter, leaning into the car to reach across me and high-five Max’s outstretched hand.
    I know when I’m outnumbered.
    “Hey, no tag teaming the boss!” I complain as both women continue to laugh at my expense, which is fine with me even though I would never let it show. “On a serious note, Lady, have you heard from Chineka?”
    “Nah, she must still be hiding out from that sorry ass pimp of hers.” She stills when I place my hand over hers, somehow recognizing that I’m trying to soften the blow of what I’m getting ready to say.
    “Lady. I think something really bad may have happened to her. I can’t say a whole lot about the details, but there’s this case I’m working on. It’s some nasty shit that’s been going down. I hope I’m wrong, darlin’, but I’ve just got a bad feeling about this.”
    Lady takes a step back from the car as her eyes well with tears. “You work murders and shit like that, Jack. You tellin’ me some freak’s out here killin’ working girls? You think he got Chineka?”
    “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” I’m not surprised that she caught my meaning so quickly; if you spend any amount of time on these streets, regardless of your purpose or profession, you gain a sixth sense. Add to that the natural intuition women seem to possess by the grace of God himself, and there isn’t a whole lot that gets past Lady or any of the working girls out here. Except Chineka, it seems.
    No doubt the story of body parts being found in different areas of the city will be national news by tonight anyway, so it’s not like I’ve revealed anything that would impact the integrity of the investigation.
    “I want you to be careful, Lady, even with your regulars.” The lethal look on her face sends a chill up my spine.
    “I’m gonna’ tell ya straight up, Detective Jack. That motherfucker is foolish enough to come after me, it won’t be me gettin’ fileted on the coroner’s table.”
    I barely hear Max mutter under her breath, “I know that’s right!”
    This guy is already accomplishing what he wants—he’s getting into people’s heads. Serial killers feed off attention and notoriety, especially from the press. The press can do for them what no one else can—they can make killers celebrities overnight. These psychos don’t care if the public hates them. They feed off the power of knowing they’re striking fear in the hearts of the multitudes.
    We all have control issues. I, of all people, know that. Being the reason why people are double-checking the locks on their doors and windows is a power trip for someone who’s already evil to the core.
    Too bad for this fucker, I’m going to use it against him.



Chapter Twenty
    Max
    I take one last look in the mirror as I attempt to will the butterflies in my stomach away. This is nothing but an interview, but the prospect of dining in a private country club slammed home the realization of how high on