Bombshell Dolly Nail

Author’s Note: This is my submission for The 2021 “Hammered: an Ode to Mickey Spillane” Author Challengestrong>. In honor of Mickey Spillane’s gritty noir style, and in contrast to Spillane’s legendary character, Mike Hammer, I created Bombshell Dolly Nail. If you enjoy it, please take a second to vote and leave a comment.

Synopsis: Dolly Nail is a sexy private eye in 1920s New York. As a Western Front Army Nurse, she served in the trenches of Étaples, France, until a bomb killed her best friend and sent her home with a stomach wound. Suffering forged Dolly into a hard-handed champion for justice. Dolly stalks and confronts dangerous criminals in the city while struggling to keep her own demons at bay. Can Dolly survive the bloody exploits of the oldest cult in New York? Can she survive her own self-destructive need to sleep with dangerous men? Will she confess her secret love for the man she admires? Blood and bullets will fly in this gritty tale of sex, drugs, murder, and vengeance.

Chapter 1: “Bombshell” Dolly Nail

I was called to the Dahlia Hotel in the middle of the night. By my request, I’m the first person summoned when a violent crime involves a woman. The chief of police and I don’t always see eye to eye, but I earned his respect as a war survivor. Chief Collin Brooks was in the hotel room when I walked in. He gave me an apologetic glance before he continued questioning the hotel owners.

Rose’s face was still beautiful as she lay on the blood-soaked rug before me. Her enchanting green eyes were gazing at the ceiling, unblinking. Her dark red hair was draped over the rug and tinged with blood. She was nude. Her once warm body was beaten, burned, and split open from her breastbone to her groin. The amount of damage was barbaric. The only other time I had seen so much blood was when a fellow nurse stepped on a landmine.

My throat tightened at the thought of never seeing Rose’s happy smile again. I failed to protect Becky’s kid sister. Becky was a fellow war nurse and a longtime friend. We treated wounded men under air raids on the Western Front. Nightmares often dragged me back to the ‘Land of Hospitals’ in Étaples, France. Becky helped me through those terrible times. When we huddled in the dark during an air raid, she would brag about her little sister Rosy and how she couldn’t wait to see her again. A bomb sent us both home a month later. One dead and one alive. I was the one who saw Rose again, and it was to tell her about Becky’s death.

Rose and I were close, but I was a fool to think she would listen to me like she used to listen to Becky. Rose found herself in trouble more often than not, but a heart of gold beat behind her eye-catching bosom. The world lost two shining stars when it lost those sisters, and I would set the city on fire to smoke out the rat that murdered the youngest.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and looked at the two men standing with Chief Brooks. They were well-dressed, handsome, and obviously important persons in the hotel. The blonde man with brooding eyes had a seductive look about him. His black, three-piece suit was perfectly tailored over his tall, athletic frame. He was the type of man that turned heads on the streets. It troubled me how he gazed at Rose’s tattered corpse with cold indifference and a hint of morbid curiosity. Either the shocking scene hadn’t hit him yet, or he didn’t care. His piercing gaze drifted to me a second later, and he seemed pleased by my appearance. The other man resembled the blonde, but his hair was dark brown, and his brow was stern and critical. His arms and chest were thick under his beige cashmere jacket. By my reckoning, he likely had a mean streak and the strength to back it up. My ability to size up a stranger gave me an investigative edge. After six years in the field, I labeled them the most dangerous men in the room.

Once I finished examining my butchered friend, Chief Brooks welcomed me into their conversation.

“Gentleman,” he began, “this is ‘Bombshell’ Dolly Nail. The toughest private eye this side of New York.”

I suppressed a cringe at being introduced by my nickname at a heinous murder scene. Chief Collin Brooks wasn’t subtle or graceful, but I was plenty familiar with his coarse manners.

“Dolly,” Brooks continued, “this is Lenard and Harry Coleman. The owners and managers of the Dahlia Hotel.”

“Lenard,” I said and offered my hand to the brooding blonde. He kissed my fingers for a long moment, warming my skin and letting me feel his breath before he released me. His sensual manners were jarring when standing four feet from a naked, almost-gutted corpse.

“The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Nail. I’ve heard about you. How did you acquire such an interesting nickname? It suits you in every way,” he said with a grin as his eyes trailed down my body.

His voice was as silky as his manners, and he was flirting at a crime scene. That was a red flag. I faked a flattered smile as I glanced at my reflection in the standing mirror behind Lenard. My ruby-red lips and wavy blond hair perfectly framed my large blue eyes under my black cloche hat. My short black skirt and perfectly tailored jacket over a white silk blouse announced me better than my nickname. Not to mention my black heels and long legs lifted me high enough to gaze into my enemy’s eyes. I dressed to kill so I could distract killers when I questioned them.

“Shrapnel from a bomb tore a hole in my gut and sent me home from the war. It killed the nurse that was the older sister of the gutted angel behind me. That’s how I got my nickname. I also have a habit of tearing up criminals in similar ways the bomb tore into me,” I said coldly.

“Interesting,” Harry noted, pulling my gaze to him.

The older Coleman brother wasn’t ogling me like Lenard. Harry’s guarded expression was similar to mine. Those small details told me he could read people. He knew better than to show unnecessary emotions. We had a lot in common in that regard, and that made him more dangerous.

“Mr. Coleman,” I said and offered my hand to Harry.

His handshake was gentle in spite of his large, calloused hands. I suspected he loved boxing or had a habit of punching random things. I was guilty of that myself.

“Ms. Nail, I trust you’ll get to the bottom of this. My employees are at your disposal for questioning. My brother and I are also available by appointment. I must be off now. I have a storm of reporters waiting downstairs.”

Chief Brooks waved the man out, leaving us with Lenard and the numerous officers circling Rose.

“You must excuse my brother’s brisk manners. He’s a man of few words and fewer emotions.”

I gave Lenard my attention again since he obviously desired it. He wore his lust on his sleeve.

“Harry is a lot like me then. Emotions are exhausting.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “A beautiful woman such as yourself can’t be compared to a brick like Harry.”

“In a lot of ways, bricks are more useful than compliments. I’ve never killed anyone with a compliment.”

His brow creased as he considered what I was implying.

“I see. Well, like my brother, I have business to attend to. A posh hotel doesn’t run itself, and murders can cause good and bad publicity. Ms. Nail, I look forward to our future interview. Please contact my secretary to make an appointment. Chief, you know where to find me if you need me.”

Lenard ducked out of the crime scene, relieving us of his demanding presence. I leaned against the wall next to Brooks and sighed, “I smell a rat.”

We watched in silence as men carefully lifted Rose onto a gurney for her trip to the morgue.

“That’s all I ever smell anymore,” Brooks said as he pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it.

“Really? How can you smell anything after smoking those for ten years?”

“The same way I can smell a need for vengeance,” he noted as he breathed smoke out of his nose and looked at me accusingly.

Collin would have been handsome in his middle age if he trimmed his atrocious mustache. It looked like it had recently caught fire.

“I won’t deny that. A monster was in this room less than five hours ago, and no one saw anything suspicious. It stinks of threats and willful ignorance. Rose could breathe life into the stalest of rooms. She sang and danced like a naughty angel. I thought she would be safer here than with the Ziegfeld Follies. Becky was right. Rose was a treasure that attracted the worst kind of attention.”

“Dolly, I’m really sorry. I know you thought of Rose and Becky as sisters, but Rose was a grown woman. You can’t blame yourself for any of this.”

“Sorry, Chief, but I can. I kill one dirty snake, and another crawls out of the gutter to take its place. I’m getting slow.”

“Don’t be confessing anything you don’t want me to hear, Ms. Nail,” he warned as he adjusted his hat, reminding me of the many officers in the room.

I smiled at his warning. I would never deny the blood on my hands, and most people knew it. They looked the other way when it came to my work methods. Making New York a safer place was dirty business, and I was one of a few women that could stomach the blood.

“If Becky were alive, she wouldn’t forgive me for this.”

“She would be too busy tracking down the killer to blame anybody for it. This isn’t like you, Dolly. What’s with the self-loathing?”

“This is personal, Collin. Rose isn’t the first woman I’ve seen gutted like this.”

Brooks raised an eyebrow after that remark.

“Keep talking,” he urged.

“Back in France, the night before the bomb hit the ward, a young nurse’s body was found naked and mutilated in a field beside the base. She had been raped and tortured. Under the chaos of the air raids, anyone could get away with murder. Everyone assumed an enemy had sneaked into the area and attacked the most helpless among us. Becky and I knew better. Ruth wouldn’t have abandoned her duties. She likely knew her attacker and followed him outside for some reason. She looked a lot like Rose. Ruth was a hard worker and the cutest little redhead I had ever seen. Becky and I helped carry her to the morgue. The cuts on the bodies were almost identical. Becky and I were determined to investigate Ruth’s murder, but the war had other plans for us. Once home, I was too devastated by Becky’s death and the damage to my gut to give another thought to Ruth’s murder.”

“My God… what does this mean?” Collin grumbled as he removed his hat and scratched his messy brown hair.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence if that’s what you’re asking. The killer came home with us.”

“How many Americans were stationed in the area? Can we track them all down?”

“Thousands, Collin. Tracking them all down is a fool’s errand. I’ll start small and trace every step and personal contact Rose made over the past few weeks. Anything from your end will be greatly appreciated.”

“I’m always ready to assist, Dolly, but you’ve taught me to keep my distance. Your own body count hasn’t gone unnoticed. You have more enemies than I can shake a stick at,” he grumbled.

“Thanks for the call, Collin. You make New York a little safer every day,” I sighed and strolled towards the door.

“Dolly,” he called, stopping me in the doorway. “Stay out of trouble, kid. I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to you.”

“Thanks for the sentiment, Collin, but it’s terribly lost on me.”

That was my first encounter with Lenard and Harry Coleman. Walking home from the hotel later that night, two tails almost instantly began following me. They didn’t even try to make themselves inconspicuous as they strolled down the sidewalk, barely keeping a hundred feet between us. As a woman investigator, they obviously didn’t think I was dangerous in spite of my bloody reputation. I couldn’t complain since it worked to my advantage.

Purposely stepping in a crack, I pretended to turn my ankle. I cursed, staggered into the nearest wall, and reached into my jacket for my .38 colt. My snubnosed ‘Fitz Special’ never failed me in a tight spot. The men rushed forward to attack as I turned and fired my colt. Being a crack shot was a must for any investigator. Both men fell to the sidewalk with gushing holes in their thighs. I ducked into the nearest alleyway to avoid any retaliatory shots. Leaving goons alive and injured always created more trouble for them and less paperwork for the police chief. Collin would thank me for it later. I was certain one of the Coleman brothers had sent the goons to deal with me, but I couldn’t prove it yet.

Chapter 2: Lenard Coleman

Two days after the murder, I met with Lenard in his personal parlor at the Dahlia Hotel to discuss everything he knew about Rose. The interview told me very little about the deceased showgirl, but it taught me a great deal about her boss and myself. Lenard was spoiled to the core, worshiped by beautiful women, determined to get his pampered hands up my skirt, and I was foolish enough to let him.

He opened the door of his personal parlor after I knocked. He greeted me with a pleased smile before saying hello. It felt like I was walking into a trap as he gently picked up my hand, kissed it, and escorted me into the stately sitting room. A stained oak whiskey bar took up most of the right wall in between the two balcony doors. The day was cloudy and offered little light through the windows, but old fashion lamps were lit in every corner. The deep red upholstery of the Venetian couch in the center of the room looked posh and inviting. Lenard stepped behind me and brushed his warm fingers against my neck as he grasped the collar of my jacket. His touch sent a tingle up my spine.

“May I remove this, Ms. Nail? I keep my parlor plenty warm,” he spoke close to my ear. His breath was warm and smelled of a heady scotch.

“Certainly, Mr. Coleman,” I obliged and relaxed my shoulders, allowing him to remove my jacket along with my .38 and the knife hidden in the pockets.

“Please, call me Lenard. May I have the privilege of calling you Dolly?” he asked as he placed my jacket on the hook by the door and turned to observe my nearly-see-through blouse.

I watched his handsome dark eyes as he admired the outline of my lacy bra and cleavage. I had worn the lingerie for that effect. His dark blond hair was neatly combed and gelled back, but a shiny lock managed to escape and lay carelessly curled against his brow. He was dangerously handsome, and his finely tailored suit was the icing on the cake.

“Call me what you like, Lenard. So, you seem to collect pretty women,” I noted as my attention turned to the rows of portraits lining the wall next to the door.

It was an impressive gallery of beautiful faces and bodies. The women varied greatly in age and style as they posed in provocative clothes for Lenard’s camera. The wall opposite the whiskey bar was set up for photo shoots. I’m sure the red couch saw plenty of action after the shoots.

“I do. I manage the entertainment aspects of the hotel, so I hire many pretty faces to keep our clients happy. I hire attractive men too, but I don’t care to keep their mugs on my wall,” he confessed.

“Understandable. So, what can you tell me about the days leading up to Rose’s murder?” I asked as I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs, allowing Lenard an impressive view of my thighs.

“Straight to business, I see. I like that in a woman, but allow me to be a gracious host. Would you like a glass of wine? Maybe some champagne or scotch?” he pressed as he strolled over to the bar and pulled two glass tumblers off the shelf.

“Whatever you’re having,” I replied while watching his hands.

There was a variety of small, suspicious-looking bottles sitting on the bar close to the liquor. Lenard struck me as the type to resort to such things if a woman refused to give him what he wanted. That likely wasn’t often. Lenard could seduce the skirt off of me if I didn’t suspect his involvement in Rose’s murder. He had yet to do anything but make me more suspicious of him. He poured scotch into two small tumblers and passed one to me before he reclined on the couch with his thigh touching mine. He was naturally smooth and smelled good enough to eat.

“Let’s see,” he sighed as he swirled his scotch for a moment. “Rose was extremely popular. She was a former Ziegfeld girl and had many admirers before she came here. Her dinner shows were always packed. I scheduled her to work as often as possible. She enjoyed it. She never complained about the schedule, even though I offered her more time off. It made me wonder if she was in debt and needed the extra cash. I asked her about it, but she said she simply loved doing shows, so I let her have her way.”

“I see,” I whispered and took a micro-sip of my scotch. I was not a scotch lover, but Lenard’s was delicious. “That’s incredibly smooth. Is it spiced?”

“It is. Harry says it’s almost a girly scotch since it’s so smooth, but he still drinks it with me,” he grinned.

“You’ll have to tell me where I can find some for myself. How long was Rose employed at the Dahlia?”

“Rose was with us for a little over two years. She became our most popular act that first year. By the way, I have an extra bottle of this blend. Thanks to prohibition, it’s extremely hard to find, but I might be willing to part with it. A little persuasion is all I need,” he said as he looked at me wearing a mischievous grin.

I hated to admit how warm his smile made me.

“You’re a piece of work, Lenard. What kind of persuasion do you mean?” I asked while gently playing with the hem of my black skirt, ever so slightly lifting it further up my thigh.

“That’s an excellent start,” he whispered as he gently placed his warm hand on top of my thigh and squeezed the inviting flesh.

I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. His boldness surprised me. He moved faster than a bullet when he wanted something, and my insides were tingling as his hand slowly moved between my legs. My weakness for men like Lenard almost got me into trouble in the past. In spite of my desire to guide his long fingers up my skirt and into my warmth, I politely placed my hand on his and moved it back to my knee. He smiled hugely at the gesture and took the hint to back off so he wouldn’t offend me.

“Sorry. Women like you make me forget my manners,” he confessed.

“It’s good to know your weakness.”

“I think every man shares my weakness,” he sighed as he gave my knee a squeeze before releasing it.

He earned a little respect from me at that point. He took ‘no’ for an answer without putting up a fuss. That was a surprising quality in a man of his trade, assuming he wasn’t pretending to be respectful. Time would tell.

“Getting back to the purpose of my visit, can you think of anyone that would want to hurt Rose?”

“Not really. She was a gem. Our relationship was fairly professional. I try not to pry into the personal lives of our employees unless I’m dating them. I dated Rose a few times that first year, but we didn’t really hit it off. She was too good for me,” he said with a thoughtful smile.

“She wasn’t easy, you mean,” I said with a smirk, causing him to chuckle.

“Wow, how little you think of me, Dolly.”

“I’m just speaking my mind. Do you know the details of Rose’s work activities the night she was murdered?”

“I do. The dinner show ended at nine, and she left right after. I remember that because I was enjoying a drink at the bar with an old friend. His name is Bradly Stockton if you want to ask him about it. She waved to us and said goodnight before she took the elevator up to her room.”

“Did she often stay in her private room at the hotel?”

“I’m not sure. The maids that clean the rooms would be able to tell you more than I could. I knew her work schedule and how much she was paid. I didn’t care where she slept.”

“Do you know of anyone harassing Rose? Did she have any obsessed fans?”

“She had pushy fans, but the hotel security took care of them without any trouble. Like I told Chief Brooks, what happened to Rose couldn’t be work-related without us knowing. It had to be personal. She let someone she knew into her room. That’s my best guess.”

A frustrated sigh escaped my nostrils at that point. I honestly thought Lenard would be more helpful. He was either lying through his teeth or being blatantly honest. He wasn’t showing a hint of anxiety. He was more interested in flirting with me than anything. If I weren’t so frustrated and hurt from losing Rose, I would have been making out with him on the couch by that point. That’s when I realized I needed to be careful and play it cool. Few people knew how close I was with Rose. We never spent time together at the hotel. That worked to my advantage.

“Thanks, Lenard. You’ve been helpful. This case is proving more perplexing every day.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful. Most of us are still in shock. I’ve never seen so much blood,” he said as he stared at the scotch in his glass.

I looked at him in surprise after that remark. Had I misjudged his behavior when we first met? My rage often turned everyone into an enemy. It’s hard to know how a person will react to seeing something traumatic. Lenard’s reaction may have been to block out the horror until he could process it. My psychiatrist, Pacey Keller, often helped me dissect people’s reactions, including my own. I would have to pay him a visit sooner than later. Thunder rumbled outside as rain began tapping the patio doors. I was glad to have my umbrella waiting for me in the lobby.

“How are you doing, Lenard? You witnessed the aftermath of a brutal murder, and it was someone you had known and worked with for years. I’ve been inconsiderate about that fact. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Dolly. Thank you for your concern. You’re the first person to ask how I felt about it,” he said as he looked at me with tired eyes. “My nightmares involve finding bloody bodies all over the hotel now. This is my home and my business. When something terrible happens here, it affects every aspect of my life. I can’t go somewhere else to get away from what I saw. I have to live and work with it. I’ve been drinking more than usual since that night.”

That confession explained his behavior, and I suddenly felt bad for him. He was self-medicating and indulging in what he enjoyed in an attempt to forget what he saw.

“Life throws shit in your face sometimes, Lenard. There’s no getting around it. A few months of treating wounded men on the front lines in France hardened me more than I realized. I know an excellent psychiatrist if you need to talk about what you saw. Doctor Keller helped me put my life back together after a bomb ripped my insides out and killed my best friend. People are tougher than we give ourselves credit for, but sometimes we need help finding our strength again,” I said as I placed my hand over his and squeezed it.

“That’s some poetic wisdom right there, Dolly. You’re beautiful inside and out, even when you swear.”

“I like to think that, but it’s not true.”

“Nonsense. You’re more beautiful than any woman on that wall. Why would you think otherwise?” he demanded.

“You haven’t seen my scars.”

“I don’t care about scars. They’re marks of honor, if anything.”

“I’m glad you think that, but I still wish I didn’t have them or the memories of how I got them.”

He looked at me in surprise after that. Then he sighed and nodded in understanding.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be inconsiderate.”

“I know, Lenard. It’s alright. War is an unforgiving bitch.”

He smirked at that remark. I think he enjoyed how much I cursed. My mouth was usually foul, but I tried to keep it under control when I was working.

“Dolly, would you think less of me if I asked to see your scars?”

That caught me by surprise, causing me to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

“You’re the first person to ask me that, and I don’t think less of you for it. Unless you’re using it as an excuse to get between my legs.”

“Maybe,” he said with a smirk. “But, honestly, I want you to realize that you are stunningly beautiful. War scars aren’t going to scare a man away from a woman like you.”

He seemed terribly sincere about his intentions as he searched my eyes, and part of me wanted to think he was genuine. I was suddenly feeling up for a character test. Lenard would likely show me his true character if I pretended to be vulnerable. Predators pounced on insecurities, and I wanted to know what kind of predator Lenard Coleman was. Was he a horny lecher or a manipulative romantic? I considered the latter more dangerous. Manipulative romantics often turned out to be psychopaths.

I took a deep breath and slowly stood, faking as much insecurity as I could muster. Lenard watched me solemnly as I slowly unbuttoned my blouse and opened it, revealing the white lace lingerie that was squeezing my breasts together. The beginnings of red scars were showing around my belly button. I watched his admiring gaze as I unlatched my skirt and slowly lowered it off my thighs, baring the collage of angry red scars crisscrossing my lower abdomen. I hated to look at it. The skin was bumpy and discolored where the flesh was taken away by shrapnel.

Lenard gulped as he took in the damage. The scars looked painful even though they were only a reminder of the pain. He took a deep breath and suddenly slid off the couch and knelt in front of me. My heart rate increased to have him so close in such an intimate position. To my surprise, he reached up and held my thighs as he brought his lips to the worst of my scars. He kissed them. He was a smooth weasel indeed. A pleasant shudder ran through my body from the feel of his warm lips and breath on my stomach. He was being a horny lecher and a manipulative romantic, and I liked it. I had lost track of who was playing who at that point.

“Are you easy, Dolly?” he asked in between wet kisses as his nose caressed my belly button.

“It depends on the man,” I confessed as I looked down and met his pretty eyes.

He smiled and reached for the top of my lacy panties and slowly began peeling them down, exposing more skin to his lips. He pulled them down until he revealed my blond mound and the scar that almost cut it in half.

“Are you easy for me?” he whispered before his tongue found its way to my clit and lapped over it, making me shudder and wobble.

“I guess I am,” I breathed with my heart pounding.

“Mmm, you smell and taste delicious. Did you bathe in vanilla cream?” he groaned as he nuzzled the neatly trimmed hair on my mound. He was savoring me.

“New soap,” I whispered.

“It’s nice. Forgive me if I drool,” he said before he pushed his tongue between my lips and lapped through the moisture gathered there.

My knees went weak as tingles raced through my cunt. I was shamefully wet and indulging in something I told myself to stay away from, dangerous men. Thunder rumbled outside again, putting me on edge. I forced myself to ignore it. It was just a storm, not a bomb. My life and death experience in the war had damaged my sense of self-preservation, and Rose’s death made it worse. She was the closest thing I had to a family after Becky died. What I was doing with Lenard was self-medicating and self-destructive. He was a dangerous distraction to numb the pain for a little while.

Lenard’s fingers suddenly slid inside me and made my inner muscles twitch. It felt a little too good. His tongue was still lovingly massaging my clit as he licked into me, trying to taste me more. I groaned and pulled his hair, letting him know he was doing an excellent job. I’m sure he had practiced with the women on the wall. Doctor Keller would give me an ear-full about my behavior later that week.

“Mmm,” I groaned as his fingers and tongue slowly massaged me closer to orgasm.

The man had skills, and I thoroughly appreciated them. I gently pulled his face harder against my cunt. He took the hint and lavished my clit with fast, methodical licks and fingered me deeper, pushing me over the edge. I gasped and pulled his hair as I rode his tongue and fingers through an incredible orgasm. He groaned in approval as he licked up my extra arousal. I was smiling and twitching with every gentle stroke.

“Did you enjoy that, Dolly?” he asked in between licks.

“Mmhm,” I moaned. My body was still tingling.

“I’m glad. May I have the privilege of penetrating you?” he asked as he climbed to his feet and looked into my eyes.

“After that orgasm, you can fuck me however you like,” I said and wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled his lips to mine.

He smiled against my kiss before his tongue went into my mouth. I could taste my own sweetness mingled with scotch. He quickly removed his belt and freed his erection from his clothes before he guided me over to the couch. He pushed me onto it and climbed between my legs in one swift motion. He shoved his thick cock into me before I realized it. We both groaned in delight as he came to rest deep inside me.

“You are beautiful and perfect, Dolly, and you feel like hot, slippery heaven,” he whispered as he gently rocked inside me, stimulating my swollen cunt with his rock-hard shaft.

“Thank you, Lenard, but you don’t have to flatter me anymore. You’re welcome to make me feel like a dirty slut if you want,” I said and squeezed him with my inner muscles, making him smile.

“Gladly,” he sighed and started fucking me feverishly.

“Ah! That’s so good,” I groaned as he pounded inside me. Being fucked vigorously after an orgasm felt exceptionally good.

I pulled his lips to mine and kissed him needfully, enjoying his heady taste and smell. Lenard was a little too good to be true when it came to lovemaking. Regret would likely find me before I knew it, but for the moment, my cunt was tingling close to another fit of pleasure. He was hard as a rock as he jarred our bodies with his passionate fucking. My inner muscles hadn’t been massaged like that in a while. Suddenly, Lenard tensed and groaned as an orgasm rocked through his cock. The hot flood of cum inside me pushed me over the edge again. I gasped and squirmed under him as pleasure worked through my body. Lenard smiled and kissed me as our hearts pounded against each other. He studiously fucked me through the trembling spasms until I was spent. Then we relaxed in satisfaction. I ran my fingers through his hair and breathed him in. I had not been expecting our meeting to take such an erotic turn.

“That was wonderful, Dolly. You should visit me more often,” he whispered as he raised up and looked into my eyes.

“I might have to after that demonstration. You’re a rare find, Lenard,” I whispered before I kissed him again.

He moaned softly and began to move inside me more, but a knock at the door stole his attention.

“Damn, what time is it?” he grumbled as he looked at his watch. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Dolly. I didn’t realize our appointment would go this long. You know the old saying, time flies when you’re having fun,” he sighed and climbed off of me.

I watched as he began tidying himself up in preparation for his next appointment. Once he was dressed, he looked at me expectantly as I still lay on the couch with his cum dripping out of me.

“Hmm, that’s how it is then,” I sighed and crawled off the couch to fetch my clothes.

“What do you mean, Dolly?” he asked as he helped me dress by retrieving my jacket.

“I was a fun appointment, and now it’s over. Is your next appointment another beautiful woman that you intend to fuck?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes as he helped me shimmy back into my jacket.

“That’s not exactly your business, Ms. Nail. I was under the impression you enjoyed our appointment. Did you not?”

“I did, but now I know your words are disingenuous. Were you flattering me for a quick fuck, or were you flattering me because you wanted to fuck an exceptionally beautiful woman?”

“Don’t insult yourself or me, Ms. Nail. I only fuck exceptionally beautiful women, and you are one of the finest. Thank you for the wonderful experience. I won’t soon forget it. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an empty position to fill,” he said plainly, then he opened the door and greeted the beautiful young woman standing outside.

I rolled my eyes as he escorted her in and motioned me out. The cute brunette that walked in looked at me in wonder for a moment. She knew a ten when she saw one. I enjoyed having that effect on men and women.

“Ah, you’re the next lucky woman,” I announced with a smirk. “You might want to take your skirt off before you sit down. That material looks like it stains easily. Mr. Coleman left a mess on the couch,” I whispered with a wink before I sauntered out the door. The look on Lenard’s face was priceless.

Chapter 3: Doctor Pacey Keller

It was rainy and gray as I left the Dahlia Hotel. I felt slightly abused by Lenard. Don’t get me wrong, I walked right into his advances, and he didn’t disappoint me, but being rushed out at the end made the interlude feel cheap. My talk with Doctor Keller was long overdue. Thunder rumbled overhead as I passed my office and my apartment. The rain poured by the bucketfuls for the next three blocks.

Doctor Pacey Keller’s reception room was warm, dry, and empty until I stepped in and tossed my dripping umbrella in the stand by the door. My heels were soaked, so they went next to the umbrella stand to drip as well. The brown furniture and dark green wallpaper were simple and relaxing. Pacey didn’t need frilly Venetian couches or fancy scotches to impress me. He was the most intelligent man I had ever met, and he often helped me dissect difficult cases from the safety of his office.

“You better be here, Pacey,” I grumbled as I approached the inner door, preparing to knock.

The inner door was kept locked when the outer door was open. There was a reception desk in the corner, but Pacey was often too distracted to hire a secretary. His method for keeping appointments needed improvement. His morning lectures at the university kept him fed and the rent paid better than his patients.

Right as my knuckle was about to hit the door, I heard laughter behind it and aborted my knock. I heard a male and female voice, and the mood sounded flirty. The apprehension that seized me at that moment was surprising. I cursed under my breath and hurried away from the door, quickly sitting in a chair to my right and picking up a discarded newspaper. The paper prevented my immediate notice as the cheerful duo stepped through the door, laughing and smiling about some joke they were privy to.

My right eye was ever-so-slightly peeking around the edge of the paper enough to see a beautiful dark-haired woman in a pale blue skirt and jacket. Her style and body shape were similar to mine, but she was a borderline eight in my book. I didn’t like how Pacey was smiling at her. Pacey looked stunning as usual. His dark brown hair was a mess, and his clothes were wrinkled, adding to his careless charm. The combination of his big brown eyes, cute baby face, and honest smile made me worry about him when it came to women like me.

“It was wonderful meeting you, Hanna. Thanks for answering the ad and catching the typos. I made it painfully obvious that I need help,” Pacey chuckled.

“Thank you for the interview, Doctor Keller. I don’t know much about psychiatry, but I can make appointments, answer phones, and take notes. I can even straighten ties when needed,” she said with a wink as she reached over and adjusted his. The funny thing was, Pacey never wore ties unless he felt obligated to do so, like when conducting a job interview.

The excess blush that appeared on the doctor’s cheeks caused me to involuntarily cough. His eyes jumped in my direction before I hid behind the paper again. He knew it was me.

“Uh, thank you, Hanna. I hate to send you off in the rain, but I apparently have an appointment that I forgot about. You’re welcome to wait here as long as you need,” he offered in a more professional tone.

“A little rain isn’t a problem. I hope to hear from you soon. Goodbye, Doctor Keller,” she called as she retrieved her umbrella and let herself out.

She seemed in a hurry to leave after noticing my long legs under the paper. Once the door was closed and the room was silent, I let out a tired sigh.

“Dolly, are you alright?” Pacey asked as he walked over and sat down next to me.

“I’ve been better,” I confessed as I closed the paper and dropped it in the chair beside me. My mind and body suddenly felt exhausted.

“That bad, huh?” he sighed as he reached up and loosened his tie.

“Sorry to kill the mood. It’s been a long day, and I’m not proud of it. Hanna seems… friendly,” I added, trying to hide my disdain. Pacey saw right through it.

“Hmm, you don’t like her. Interesting,” he mused as he observed my appearance and discarded shoes. “Did you splash in every puddle along the way?”

“I think I did.”

“Come on back and relax. Tea or coffee?” he asked as he stood and opened the door for me.

“Hot tea would be splendid.”

“Oh, it was that kind of day. Something is amiss when Bombshell Dolly Nail refuses coffee.”

Doctor Keller’s office was as simple and sleepy as his waiting room. His consultation couch and armchairs were clad in brown leather. A caramel-stained oak desk sat adjacent to the window. The window offered a view of the gray sky and the rain-drenched street below. A tall bookshelf sat behind the desk and held more books than I would ever read in my lifetime. An oil painting of a whimsical French garden adorned the wall opposite the desk. The painting was a reminder of the beautiful things in life, and I often stared at it while Pacey wrote in his notebook.

I reclined on the consultation couch to brood about my day as Pacey heated water in a yellow teapot in the tiny kitchen attached to his office. Like me, Pacey’s living space overlapped with his workspace. It was a convenient setup if one could tolerate it.

“So, Dolly, what brings you to me in this Biblical second flood?” Pacey inquired as he gave me a steaming cup of tea and took his seat in the opposite armchair.

“I’m disgusted with myself and need to share my misery. The weather matches my mood,” I mumbled into my cup.

He gave me a familiar smile as he set his teacup on the side table and retrieved his notebook. He flipped it open and pulled a short pencil out of his front pocket. I watched his elegant fingers as he began writing. It was a comforting familiarity. The world seemed better when Pacey wrote about me in his little notebook. He could have been scribbling pictures of dinosaurs for all I knew. The action was still comforting.

“What disgusting thing have you done to cause this mood?” he asked without looking up.

I smirked at his question. He knew me too well.

“I let Lenard Coleman fuck me.”

The shuffling of Pacey’s pencil stopped at that revelation. I knew he was looking at me at that point, so I gave him a guilty glance. His handsome brow was lifted in either revulsion or mild shock. It could have been both.

“Dolly, why didn’t you come to see me earlier this week?” he demanded in disappointment.

“Shit,” I sighed, knowing what that question meant. “Chief Brooks paid you a visit on my behalf, didn’t he?”

“He’s your friend, and he was worried. Rightly so after what you just told me. I was expecting you to confess another murder, but fucking a Coleman brother takes the cake. It takes the cake and throws it out the fucking window. What were you thinking?”

I loved it when Pacey cursed. It was extremely rare for him, and I was the only person that caused it that I was aware of.

“I felt like shit, so I invited something dirty to touch me and cum in me. Why is that so hard to believe?” I snapped back.

The blush that flared up in Pacey’s cheeks warmed me inside and out. I was being terribly crude with my words. Pacey’s reaction reminded me of who I was before the war. I was a better person then and wouldn’t have spoken so poorly to a friend.

“I’m sorry, Pacey. I’m way out of line. That’s why I’m here in the middle of the second flood,” I sighed and took a careful sip of my steaming tea. It was perfect as usual.

“You don’t have to apologize, Dolly. I should have been kinder with my question. You were doing well, until,” he halted intentionally, not wanting to mention the one thing that was hurting me the most. He wanted me to say it. I sighed and played along with his technique.

“I was doing fine until some monster butchered Rose. Seeing that beautiful young woman split open like a fish brought my own monster to the surface. I should have spoken to you sooner, but my rage and pride kept me on the hunt. Hunting burns me out, and I stop caring about my well-being when I’m like that. That’s why I fucked a notorious goon boss and enjoyed it.”

It felt good and humiliating to spill my guts to Pacey. He usually took it better. My current state of mind had him angry and off his game. I hated ruining his day. He didn’t deserve it, but I indulged in my strange connection with him, and that gave him a front-row seat to the shit-show that was my life.

“It’s good to know you listen when I berate you. Does your inner voice sound like me more often than not?”

The smile that interrupted my scowl answered his question. He sighed loudly at me after that.

“Dolly, are you using these sessions to inspire your bad behavior? Are you trying to make yourself a textbook lost cause?” he asked in a kinder tone, but I could hear the seething underneath.

“No… it just… happens sometimes,” I said with a little shrug.

He stared at me for a long moment after that. It was enjoyable for me. I was a lost cause that day.

“Well, at least we got the bad behavior out in the open. How do you want to continue, Dolly?” he asked as he returned to writing in his notebook.

That question let me control the conversation. It was my opportunity to vent however I wanted.

“So, Hanna seems eager to please,” I noted, feeling the disdain that topic created in my psychiatrist.

“She does, but that’s none of your business. I promised you freedom of conversation, so please tell me what you don’t like about her.”

“I didn’t say I don’t like things about her,” I countered.

“You heavily implied it. Your body language speaks loudly sometimes.”

“I’m glad you noticed my body.”

That response annoyed him. Pacey’s buttons were easy to push.

“Dolly,” he sighed as he closed his notebook and offered me his full attention. “You are beyond help right now, and it’s extremely troubling. Please stop joking and be honest with me. I sense a storm coming. It’s more of a bomb in your case. A lot of people died the last time I saw this attitude. You’ve been hurt deeply by Rose’s murder. Why?”

He knew how to dismantle my moods, and he used it to save people from my wrath. Doctor Keller was a one-man bomb squad.

“You know why,” I whispered into my tea.

“And you need to hear yourself say it again and again. That’s how you heal. Look at the pain, and tell me what you see.”

That phrase from Pacey’s lips always set my teeth on edge and made my skin itch. Letting my teacup rest in my hands in my lap, I recalled my most recent nightmare.

“A new vision won’t let me sleep. I see Becky murdered now, Rose’s older sister. She’s gutted on the floor at the Dahlia Hotel. I look away and see Lenard’s cold stare. When I look at the body again, Rose is back, and she’s staring at me. She looks utterly disappointed. Then a bomb hits the hotel, and the walls explode. I’m back in Étaples at that point, tripping over dead bodies in the trenches. I’m running from something. Something grabs my ankle, and I fall on top of a gutted woman. It’s Ruth. She was the fellow nurse that was murdered before the bomb hit. I screamed and staggered back to my feet, covered in the corpse’s blood. All the bodies around me were gutted women. I saw Becky, Rose, Ruth, and myself butchered in the trench. I woke up in a cold sweat after that and tried not to vomit,” I whispered. My stomach felt sick from thinking about it.

Doctor Keller was silent and motionless for a long moment after that, giving us both time to reflect on the horror.

“What do you think it means?” he eventually whispered.

“It means Rose’s death is my fault.”

“You know that’s not true, but the guilt eats you anyway. You take the injustice of others personally. That’s madness. It assumes you originally had the power to stop these crimes. You’re human, Dolly. You can’t prevent wars or murders, and you cannot continue taking on the guilt of them like you can.”

“If I can get to the murderer first, I can prevent it.”

“That seems logical, but it doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. It still implies you have superhuman abilities to track down murderers. Stop putting this ridiculous guilt on yourself. You do crazy shit when you feel guilty.”

“Like fucking Lenard Coleman,” I grumbled.

“Exactly,” he sighed.

We sat in silence for a few minutes after that. Light was fading early thanks to the storm. Pacey eventually stood and turned on his little desk lamp. The orange light was comforting to my eyes after seeing gray all day.

“Sorry for giving you grief about Hanna. She would probably make a great secretary,” I offered.

“Is that your honest opinion, or are you trying to be nice?”

I gave him a guilty glance, and he rolled his eyes at me.

“Please, Dolly, tell me exactly what you don’t like about her. I do value your opinion when it comes to women.”

“She reminds me of myself. That’s a warning sign.” He considered my words for a moment, then he nodded, so I continued. “She also makes you blush like I do. Is that why YOU like her?”

The silence that followed my question was heavy.

“Would it please you if I said yes?” he asked.

I met his eyes curiously at that point. It almost sounded like he was flirting.

“It would,” I agreed while searching his big dark eyes.

“Wait a minute, are you jealous of Hanna?” he asked incredulously.

I knew where his thoughts had gone. Me being jealous of Hanna announced my admiration of him.

“Does it matter?” I sighed, deflecting the question and returning to my gloom.

“I guess not… but it’s flattering.”

I could feel his gaze on my face, and it made me feel self-conscious. He was the only man capable of provoking that sensation in me.

“Thanks for the tea and the talk, Pacey. I feel human again,” I said with a tired smile.

“I’m glad. It’s still pouring outside, so stay a little while and talk more. Would you like a sandwich?” he asked as he stood and turned towards the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, we were sitting at the little table in his one-man kitchen, eating chicken sandwiches on rye and sharing a slice of apple pie for dessert. Rain was still busy tapping the small window over the sink.

“What’s your next step concerning Rose’s case?” Pacey asked.

“I’m going to contact her friends and acquaintances. Rose was a Ziegfeld showgirl before she signed on at the hotel. That’s where her career started. I’ve crossed paths with Follies before. The girls and their admirers get into a lot of trouble sometimes.”

“I’ve heard. Didn’t you want to be a showgirl before the war?”

“Becky and I both did. I’m sure we inspired Rose in that department. That’s another angle on my guilt. Sadly, the bomb made sure I wouldn’t want to show my midsection to a crowd.”

Pacey looked at me as I shoved the last bite of my sandwich in my mouth. He obviously wanted to say something, but he didn’t. That annoyed me. Instead of speaking, he stood and took our plates and cups to the sink. I hopped up, ready to offer my assistance with the dishes. He turned to collect the dirty silverware and crashed right into me. The tiny space was unforgiving and awkwardly intimate.

“Sorry, Dolly, I was going this way,” he said and attempted to get around me as I moved in the same direction, clumsily wedging us even more between the counter and table.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and corrected my position, putting myself in front of the sink.

I was determined to wash the dishes since Pacey provided supper. He turned around with the dirty knives and almost crashed into me again.

“Dolly, please move,” he said with an annoyed smile.

“I want to do the dishes,” I insisted.

His smile slipped away, and he rolled his eyes at me. He likely remembered the last time I did dishes. I broke a plate and lost a spoon behind the stove in one fell swoop. The kitchen wasn’t my place of focus.

“I appreciate the offer, but it’s really no trouble for me. Please move,” he insisted as he leaned to my right to drop the knives in the sink.

His handsome face was too close to me at that point. Against my better judgment and against the years of respect built between Pacey and me, I leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. He looked at me in surprise for a moment. I watched his gaze jump to my lips and back to my eyes. For a fleeting moment, I thought he might kiss me back, but the insult that creased his brow dashed my hopes.

“What the hell was that about?” he demanded as he scooted out of the tight space between the table and sink, escaping my reach.

It was like being in grade school again, and I had just been caught tying knots in Becky’s hair.

“I… I’m sorry. That was really inappropriate. I don’t know why I did it.”

“Really? Are you taking a cue from Lenard and abandoning all common decency? Were you planning to fuck me too? Are you on some kind of sexual binge? Is that how you deal with loss now?”

“What? No. It was nothing like that!” I spat, shocked at the accusation.

“Then what the hell was it?”

The rage that was boiling inside me at that point prevented me from speaking. I was angry at myself, Pacey, Rose, Chief Brooks, Becky, Lenard, and everybody else in New York. Burning something down was looking very appealing at that moment. Pacey could tell he lost me to my rage and his expression softened.

“Dolly, you need some sleep before you crack any further. I can give you something that will help with the nightmares, but I want you here while under its influence. You can sleep in the spare room again. Go rest. I’ll bring you some pills in a few minutes,” he ordered as he stepped aside and motioned me out of the kitchen.

I found my words at that point. Pacey treating me like a mental patient always calmed me down.

“Maybe I’m not cracking. Maybe I’m acting more like myself, and you don’t like what you see,” I offered as I approached him.

“You didn’t like yourself earlier. Do you like yourself now?” he asked tiredly.

I thought for a moment and shrugged.

“I’ll let you know in the morning.”

Chapter 4: New Amsterdam Theatre

Collapsing on the soft bed in Pacey’s spare room was something I did a few times a year. It usually happened when I was at a very low point. Pacey would give me drugs and keep me close so I didn’t run off in the middle of the night and kill someone.

“Why did I kiss him after telling him I fucked Lenard?” I groaned against the pillow, completely disgusted with myself.

A soft knock on the door made my stomach anxious. I straightened up and called for Pacey to enter. He was composed with a forgiving expression on his handsome face. He stepped over to the bed and gave me four pills and a glass of water.

“Do you need to talk before I lock you in for the night?”

He really didn’t trust me after the kitchen incident. I swallowed the pills and took a sip of water before returning the glass to him.

“No. I’m sorry, Pacey,” I whispered.

“I know. You’ll feel better in the morning. Goodnight, Dolly.”

He left me alone, and I was dead to the world ten minutes later. Pacey had the best drugs. The familiar squeak of the door hinge woke me at some point. Pacey pulled the chain on the overhead light, blinding me for a minute afterward.

“Rise and shine, Dolly. You slept twelve hours,” he announced as he offered me a mug of coffee.

“Mmm, thank you,” I groaned and brought it to my lips. He had mixed in the perfect amount of sugar and milk. Hotel Keller knew how to treat a lady.

“You look like hell,” he noted as he sat in the chair against the wall with his own mug.

“But I don’t feel like it, thanks to you. That’s an improvement.”

“I’m glad. Janice called. When were you last at the office?”

“Uh, three days ago?” I shrugged.

“You were sneaking out the back to avoid Janice again? Why?”

My throat tightened at that question.

“She would question me about Rose. I didn’t want to talk about her.”

“Janice was friends with Rose too. Why not exchange words of comfort with her?”

“I’m incapable of comforting someone like Janice. Can a fox comfort a hen?”

“You seriously think of yourself like that?” Pacey chuckled.

His mood surprised me. I rubbed my eyes and took a better look at him. His brown hair was combed and gelled back, giving me an excellent view of his big brown eyes and baby face. His clothes were ironed and starched. He was about to leave for a lecture.

“Well, I have more in common with Lenard than anyone else in my life. So yes. I see myself as a predator.”

“You’re not like him, Dolly. You don’t exploit the weak. You hunt other foxes.”

His explanation made me smile.

“You know I’m a fox, don’t you, Pacey?” I asked as I gazed at him from under my lashes.

He sighed and looked away from me before I made him blush. Then, to my surprise, he met my eyes again. He leaned forward in his chair, bringing his face closer to mine. Like most of the rooms in Pacey’s home, the spare room was small and intimate. He was less than a foot away. He held me in his gaze for a moment, searching my eyes, sometimes glancing at my lips. The same impulse hit me again. I wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t. I knew better.

“Are we having a staring contest?” I asked, trying to dispel the awkward moment.

“Just seeing if your sanity has returned. Has your crazy desire to kiss me passed?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

The desire hadn’t passed, but my impulse control had returned. Pacey didn’t know I was attracted to him, and I had never recklessly acted on it before yesterday. Our friendship had been perfectly satisfying for years. It didn’t need to change.

“I’m sorry about that. It won’t happen again. The coffee is delicious,” I noted.

“It’s a new dark roast. Hanna gave me a small box yesterday. Her brother owns a coffee shop that’s moving uptown next month. That’s where she’s working at the moment, and she doesn’t want to move with him, hence the interview.”

“I see,” I sighed, feeling guilty for giving Pacey a hard time about her. “You should hire Hanna. She’ll be good for both of us,” I offered, hoping to make amends for yesterday.

“Alright. If you insist, I’ll call her this afternoon. In the meantime, you go home, clean up, and talk to Janice.”

“I will. Have a good lecture, Pacey,” I said as he stood to leave.

“I will. Stay safe, Dolly. You know where to find me if you need me,” he smiled before leaving the room.

Returning to my office around ten, I found Janice pacing the room. She threw up her hands and gave me a hug. My throat tightened again as I hugged her back.

“Oh, Dolly, how are you?” she asked as she pulled away and searched my eyes.

“I’m better, Janice, thank you.”

Janice gave me a sad smile and patted my shoulders. She knew my own awkwardness when it came to emotions, and she had enough time to get over the shock of Rose’s murder. I made sure of that before I returned. We were both ready to get back to business.

Janice looked good as she returned to her desk. Her pink suit, red-framed glasses, and short-cropped black hair gave her a distinctive style. She was rounder and shorter than me, but she was still sexy. She also kept the office afloat when I stepped out mentally and physically.

“What did I miss?” I asked and looked at the papers in the dropbox.

“Chief Brooks left some files for you, and three calls for your services have gone unanswered since I couldn’t find you,” she noted as she eyed me over the top of her glasses.

“Damn, three? Tell me about them,” I said as I picked up the files and sat in the armchair next to Janice’s desk.

“Two were men. One thinks his wife is cheating, and the other thinks an employee is making dishonest deals with customers behind his back. The third inquiry was a woman. She was a pretty thing. She’s been receiving disturbing threats and doesn’t know what to make of them.”

“What’s the woman’s name?”

“Sarah Macy. She left you a card,” she said and handed me a gold-trimmed square covered in fancy print.

“Sarah ‘Sissy’ Macy of the Ziegfeld Follies?” I asked in surprise.

“I believe so.”

“Shit! I need to clean up and get back to her. This could be related to Rose’s murder,” I said and dumped the papers on Janice’s desk and ran upstairs for a bath.

An hour later, I stepped out of a cab in front of the New Amsterdam Theatre. The card Sissy left for me granted me access to the theater and directions to her personal dressing room. I knocked on the heavy oak door and waited. Sissy was definitely there. The usher confirmed she went straight to her room after morning rehearsal, and no one saw her leave. After waiting ten very boring minutes, my impatience convinced me to pick the lock. My bobby-pins made quick work of it, then I slowly and quietly crept in. The dressing room was as lavish as the theater. Large bouquets of flowers adorned every side table between the pink and red French-style furniture. I heard panting and groaning from the room in the back. Sissy was likely entertaining one of her many admirers.

To confirm her safety, I stealthily peered around the door frame and got an eye-full of a hot, black-haired stud pounding his cock into Sissy’s cunt. She was lying naked under him with her legs spread wide. Her slender arms were tense as she held the bed frame, bracing herself against his thrusts. Her dark curls were scattered over the pillow and around her cute face. Her breasts were jiggling like a thick custard as he worked inside her. The man was definitely a dancer. I hadn’t seen an ass that tight in years. All his muscles were tight under his flawless skin. I suddenly remembered why I wanted to be a showgirl before the war.

Sissy cringed and cried out in ecstasy as he worked her to orgasm. He groaned and tensed a few seconds later. I could see the orgasm tightening his ass as he came inside her. It was an excellent show. My body tingled with want at the sight of their pleasure and the sound of their groans. The man chuckled as he fucked her slow and deep a few more times, then he relaxed and laid down on her soft breasts to rest. I could see his handsome face at that point. I let out a surprised curse when I recognized him. His eyes flew open and met mine, prompting him to curse as well.

“What the fuck, Dolly? Where did you come from?” he demanded as he rolled off of Sissy and stared at me in bewilderment.

“Hello, Danny. It’s been a while,” I said with a grin as I leaned against the door frame.

“Dolly? Dolly Nail?” Sissy said in confusion as she sat up and looked at me.

“At your service, Miss Macy. You wanted to see me?” I asked as I held up her fancy calling card.

“I did, but I didn’t expect you to break in.”

“Sorry, I waited ten minutes before I picked the lock. After what happened to Rose, I felt it was justified.”

She wasn’t convinced by my explanation, but she didn’t argue with it.

“Oh, I see. Thank you for your concern, but please step out while we make ourselves decent.”

I smiled and stepped back into the sitting room to wait. Danny walked out of the bedroom first. My body warmed at the sight of his naked torso. His tight ass and powerful thighs were hidden in black trousers, but I had already gotten an eyeful of them. His shiny black hair was a mess around his big blue eyes. We smiled at each other in amusement. Danny was pretty for a man, and he swung both ways in the bedroom. His excessive horniness ended our short relationship five years earlier. I couldn’t keep up with him. Danny was a wonderful distraction after I returned from the war. He would fuck me sore to help me forget the hell I went through, and I would let him fuck men on the side. It got old after a while. We both loved our careers and had no desire to settle down, so we remained friends at a distance.

“It’s good to see you again, Dolly. Are you stalking me, by chance?” he asked with a smirk.

“You wish. It’s good to see you too,” I said and pulled him into my arms. He smelled heavenly as usual.

“Sorry about Rose,” he whispered against my ear as he returned my hug.

“Me too. When did you last see her?” I asked as I drew away from him.

“In March. I did a few shows with her at the Dahlia. She was happy and full of life as usual. It’s hard to believe someone cut her up like that,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, the paper didn’t hold back on the details,” I grumbled.

“No kidding. Who writes that shit?”

“Greg Price. One of the most graceless reporters I have ever met. I’d love to punch him in the face. Chief Brooks has warned him multiple times about his tasteless descriptions of victims. Rose didn’t deserve such a horrible end or to have her story told like that. Was anyone giving Rose trouble when you were working with her? Anything you can remember would be helpful.”

“The only trouble I can recall was her fight with a fellow dancer after our last show. Patricia DuPont was bitching at Rose for sleeping with her boyfriend. Rose denied it and told her off. I assumed that was the end of it.”

“Patricia DuPont… she works here now, doesn’t she?”

“She does. We’re not friends. I only see her during rehearsals. Sissy can tell you more. Speaking of rehearsals, I need to go to mine. It was wonderful seeing you, Dolly. Take care,” he said as he leaned in and gave me a soft kiss on the mouth.

“Thanks, Danny. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Is that an invitation?” he grinned.

“Catch me on the right day, and it is.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said before he hurried from the room.

My interview with Sissy was troubling. She brought out a stack of creepy letters someone had sent to her over the past two months. They began as detailed sex fantasies about her and regressed to petty threats if she didn’t stop fucking her many suitors. The warnings in the letters were cryptic and vague up until Rose’s murder.

“I’ve dealt with creeps before, but the last letter scared me. That’s what I wanted to show you, Miss Nail. This one arrived yesterday, and it made a reference to Rose’s murder. I’m sure of it. It says, ‘A thornless rose has satisfied my many thirsts. You’re safe for now, my darling Sissy,'” she read with her brow creased.

It made my skin crawl. We read over all the letters together, hoping to find some clue to their origins. Each was typed on a plain white sheet of paper and sent to the theater in a plain envelope with Sissy’s name typed on it. Anyone could have sent them. I asked her the same questions I had been asking everyone else about Rose. Sissy gave me a list of all the men she had slept with over the past three months. It wasn’t as long as I expected, but some of the names shocked me. Harry Coleman was at the top of the list, and Lenard Coleman was at the bottom.

“You fucked both of the Coleman brothers?” I asked with wide eyes.

She nodded guiltily.

“I had a short fling with Harry in March. He got bored with me and stopped calling after three dates. Lenard started calling me to the hotel in May. I see him about twice a month now.”

“Have you seen him since the murder?”

“No. I know what you’re thinking. I honestly doubt a Coleman brother would send me letters like this. It’s not their style.”

“I figured that, but they might hire someone to torment you. Maybe Harry doesn’t like you screwing with Lenard. Maybe he’s jealous.”

“Harry’s not the jealous type,” Sissy declared as if she knew it for a fact.

I knew Harry was a break-your-arm or bust-your-kneecap kind of man, but I knew nothing about his intimate endeavors.

“What makes you think he’s not a jealous type?”

“Harry was always kind to me and the other girls he dated. We were a fun distraction for him. He doesn’t fall in love with every pretty face he sleeps with. From what I’ve seen, he respects women. Harry would beat the snot out of a man that disrespected a lady while he was around. He’s also protective of Lenard. I’m not confirming anything, but I heard he killed a man for threatening his little brother.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I have an interview with Harry tomorrow. Your words have calmed my anxiety a little. I want you to be careful when you go out alone, and be careful who you invite into your bed until I catch the rat that gutted Rose”

“What about Danny? Is he safe?”

I burst out laughing at that question.

“Besides being a man-whore, he’s safe. He would faint at the sight of a paper cut.”

Chapter 5: Loose Connections

Upon my return to the office, Ducky Jacobs, Janice’s longtime boyfriend, greeted me with a smile. He was reclined in her chair with his feet on the edge of the desk. That meant Janice had stepped out to pick up lunch while she had someone to watch the office. Ducky was a handsome, lanky fellow with classic New York charm. He had big gray eyes and messy blond hair that peeked out from under his newsboy cap. He worked as an assistant editor in the print room at the biggest newspaper in town. He often had ink stains on his hands and clothes.

“Good afternoon, Dolly,” he announced as he lifted his gray cap to me.

“Hey, Ducky. What’s for lunch?” I asked as I dropped my purse on Janice’s desk and reclined on the sofa against the back wall. I was tired and hungry after my coffee-fueled morning.

“Chicken pot pies from the new bakery on the corner. I had one last week, and it was heavenly. How are you doing, Dolly? I’m damn sorry about Rose. I read about her murder the morning after it happened. It was a kick in the stomach, for sure. She ate lunch with us less than two weeks ago. I took the article to the boss and complained about Price,” he grumbled as he straightened up and dropped his hat on the desk.

I watched as he vigorously scratched his scalp. He did that when he was angry or disgusted.

“Greg Price has been on my shit-list for a while. His tasteless descriptions of Rose earned him a future visit from me.”

“That’s another reason why I stopped by today, Dolly. I wanted you to see something. I swiped them from Greg’s office. He wasn’t in when I stopped by to cuss at him about the article. I shimmied open the lock on his door and got in, just like you taught me, and I found some dirt on him,” he said as he picked up a folder and used his long arm to pass it to me on the couch.

Flipping the folder open, my stomach lurched at what I saw. Greg had taken provocative photographs of Rose as she lay gutted at the Dahlia. The first one was angled over her head. It showed a close-up of her lips and the silhouettes of her breasts in the background. Her breasts were out of focus since her lips and chin were in focus. The drop of blood on her chin was the only hint of the real nature of the photo. The second photo was a close-up shot of her ribs and left breast. Again, only a splattering of blood on her side hinted at the horror of what wasn’t shown in the picture. The next photo was taken close to her thigh at an angle that showed the rest of her beautiful body out of focus. He was purposely avoiding revealing her identity, but anyone that knew Rose would recognize the little mole on her chin. The pictures were morbid and beautiful, and Greg Price likely had plans for them.

“That piece of shit,” I growled.

Ducky watched as I stood, slammed the photos on the desk, and began pacing the room like an angry bull.

“Dolly, calm down. Don’t do anything crazy before lunch,” Ducky said in a soothing tone. Janice had likely told him I was MIA for three days after Rose’s murder.

“I won’t, Ducky. I just need to let off a little steam,” I growled as I escaped into my office and slammed the door behind me.

I kept a punching bag in the corner for such occasions. I kicked it hard enough to send it spinning with a thump against the wall, damaging my heel in the process. I punched it three more times before it had a chance to swing back. My knuckles were aching from the violence, and it helped calm me down. I collapsed on the loveseat under the window and put my hands over my eyes. I needed to collect myself and focus on getting justice for Rose, but her murder filled me with rage at every turn.

A soft knock on the door cooled me down a little more. It slowly opened a second later. Ducky stepped in with Janice behind him. The heavenly smell of pie wafted in with them. That helped me regain my composure. I was starving.

“Dolly, can we sit with you and eat?” Janice asked in her sweetest tone.

“Please do,” I whispered, fighting back the tears that I rarely let fall.

Ducky pulled two chairs from the main office into the room and set them around my coffee table. We made small talk about the wonderful pies as we devoured them. Food in my stomach and good company helped clear my head. The basic things that I often neglected helped me the most.

“I’m going to meet with Greg Price today,” I declared after my pie was gone.

“I can help with that,” Ducky offered. “I’ll take you to his office and wait outside the door for you. You’re not going to kill him, are you?” he asked nervously.

“Maybe. I plan to speak with him first.”

“This soon, Dolly? Maybe you should cool off a little more before you go,” Janice recommended.

“I can handle it, Janice. The food helped me feel like myself again. I need to jump on this before he profits off those photos.”

After lunch, I put on a tight burgundy jacket and skirt with matching heels. It was borderline formal wear. The outfit came with a gorgeous hat of the same color that sported a white satin bow to match my blouse. Janice declared me pretty enough to eat. That was exactly the look I was going for. Greg, like Lenard, obviously enjoyed pretty women, so I would use that to my advantage.

Ducky led me into the news building and up the elevator without a hitch. Price had a nice corner office overlooking the park. It seemed a little too nice for a reporter’s salary. That led me to think he was good friends with the big boss. Greg put his name on things that enraged the masses and fueled paper sales. It made him the fall guy if public ire got out of hand, and that position obviously paid well.

Greg Price appeared harmless enough, even handsome without a bulky camera blocking his face. That’s how I usually saw him when our paths crossed at crime scenes. He was punching away at his typewriter when I walked into his office. He looked up and smiled before his hazel eyes did an inventory of my long legs, hips, and cleavage. I was sizing him up as well. He looked different without his trench coat and hat. He had shiny brown hair, bulky arms, thick knuckles, and a new scar through his right eyebrow. A quick glance at the photos on the walls revealed his love of boxing and pretty women. His collection of showgirl portraits didn’t escape my notice.

“Bombshell Dolly Nail, what brings a gorgeous detective such as yourself to my side of town?” he asked as he stood and approached me.

“Personal business, Mr. Price,” I confessed and gave him a firm handshake.

“Please, call me Greg, take a seat. What can I help you with?” he asked as he sat on the corner of his desk.

I sat in the armchair closest to him, giving him an excellent view into the top of my blouse.

“You look like you’ve been in a fight, Greg. Who marked up your eye?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. My weekends are spent boxing more often than not. It’s a dangerous hobby. Does the scar make me look mean?” he asked with a grin.

“It does. I’m no stranger to scars. They can make you act mean too. Now, to the purpose of my visit. You covered Rose Mile’s murder, didn’t you? I read the article and saw the crime scene photos. You implied a deeper knowledge of Rose’s personal life all the way down to the discarded lingerie around the body. Not to mention the disrespectful way you mentioned her and her past lovers. None of that was needed, but you wrote about it for flair. Did you know Rose personally? Did you visit her in her room at the hotel before she was murdered?”

A subtle scowl darkened his brow as I spoke.

“Ms. Nail, what are you implying with these questions? I’m a journalist. I wrote an in-depth article about a popular showgirl that upset a few people. Is it a felony to mention how obviously slutty she was? Don’t blame me for how she lived her life. I would thank her if I could. She helped me set a sales record,” he grinned.

“Abandon that mocking tone, or I’ll show this to Chief Brooks,” I warned and pulled one of his morbid photos of Rose out of my jacket.

His eyes went wide when he realized what I had.

“How the hell did you get that?” he demanded.

“That’s irrelevant, but I have plenty of copies. When did you take this photo? Was it before or after the body was discovered?”

Red rage flashed over his face at what I was implying. Even if it wasn’t true, he deserved to sweat over it.

“I was doing my job, Ms. Nail. Police were in the room when I took my photos. I’m sorry if I upset you. Those photos are an artistic hobby of mine. My line of work allows me to capture the beautiful parts of an ugly situation. They honor the victim if anything.”

“They exploit the victim if anything. I bet they fetch a pretty price on the black market, or do they go straight to a private collector?”

Greg scowled at me for another minute, then he smiled and shook his head.

“You can spout this nonsense all day, Ms. Nail. It won’t make any of it true.”

“Time will tell. You really like the Ziegfeld Follies, don’t you?” I asked, turning my gaze to the portraits by the window.

“Who doesn’t? They’re gorgeous. You could easily be one of them, Dolly.”

“No, I couldn’t,” I sighed as I rose from my seat and started for the door.

“That’s it then? You bitch at me, threaten me, and then leave?” Greg snapped.

“Yes. I consider you a suspect now. I wanted you to know that. You benefit from other people’s suffering. You’re already a criminal in my mind. I would be happy to see you behind bars. If I find more connections between you and Rose, you will be sleeping in a jail cell by the end of the week, if you’re lucky.”

“And if I’m not lucky?”

“You’ll be full of holes.”

I was sure to slam the door behind me so I wouldn’t hear his parting threats. My desire to pull my .38 was strong. I needed to leave before I got myself in trouble. Ducky met me at the end of the hall, looking worried.

“I didn’t shoot or stab him,” I assured him.

“Not yet, at least,” he sighed.

“Keep a watch on him for me, Ducky, but don’t let him notice you doing it. Greg is a boxer and stout as a boulder. I suspect he has friends in high places.”

Ducky nodded and escorted me safely out of the building. A checkered cab returned me to the office, where Janice helped me make notes of everything I learned. Greg Price had darkened my mood and left me angrier than usual. My future interview with Harry Coleman added to my anxiety. A sudden desire to visit Pacey hit me. I doubted he wanted to see me again that day, but I paid him well enough to put up with me.

“Janice, I’m heading out to see Pacey. I’ll be back before dark,” I called and grabbed my purse.

I opened the office door and gasped to discover Danny standing outside with his hand up. He had been in the process of knocking.

“Hello, Dolly, do you enjoy startling me?” he grinned.

“Danny, you startled me too. Come on in.”

I stood aside and admired his handsome figure as he stepped into the office. Janice gave him a big smile and a wink. She was a long-time fan of his shiny black hair and big blue eyes, not to mention his perfect ass.

“Good evening, Janice. It’s been a while,” he announced.

“It has, Danny. You still tearing up the stage with the Follies?”

“I am. The sheets too,” he grinned.

I coughed and cleared my throat, trying hard not to laugh. Danny knew how to brighten my day.

“What brings you here so late, Danny? Do you have a stalker now?” I asked and motioned him towards my office.

“Besides you, nah. I missed you more than anything,” he said as he followed after me.

“Really? Do you not have enough pussy and ass at the theater to keep you satisfied?” I chuckled as I locked us in my office.

“Not in your wake,” he breathed as he backed me against the door.

His lips found mine, and I melted into his familiar kiss like a shameless hussy. I groaned as his fingers slid into my hair, and his tongue went deep into my mouth. His exhausting passion never disappointed me.

“Mmm, you still taste like you did six years ago,” he breathed as he drew away and looked into my eyes. “I was thinking about you while fucking Sissy. Then you magically appeared in her room. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that,” he said as he unbuttoned my blouse and pushed it open, revealing my lacy bra.

“I’m glad you think about me sometimes. You’re still the best lover I ever had,” I confessed and unclasped my bra so he could remove it and my blouse.

“I feel the same about you. You also have the best tits in New York,” he whispered as he tossed my clothes to the floor and brought his mouth to my right nipple.

I moaned and smiled as he gently sucked my tit and massaged the inviting flesh around it. Danny’s hands were incredibly soft. He gave Lenard a run for his money. They were both great lovers, but Danny appreciated the person along with the body. Lenard only cared about the body.

After lavishing my breasts with attention, he returned to kiss my mouth. I unbuttoned his shirt, and he quickly tossed it and his jacket to the floor. My skirt and undergarments went next, followed by his pants and briefs. The last time I was naked in my office was Danny’s fault. He enjoyed fucking there almost as much as the bedroom.

He pulled me over to the loveseat, and we collapsed onto it with me under him. He pulled my leg aside and guided his cock against my wet cunt. He teased his tip into me, making me groan before he plunged inside me. I gasped from the delicious intrusion. Danny’s cock was shapely, attractive, normal in girth and length, and the way he used it made my eyes roll back. He knew the best places to apply pressure, and it made a world of difference.

He started slow, pushing the base of his cock hard against my perineum with skilled thrusts. The angle of the fucking forced his tip to push against my bladder. I shuddered with tingles as he watched the pleasure on my face. He slid his hand between us and found my clit. I groaned as he massaged it in a gentle swirling motion with his fingertips. He was a master of rhythm. I assumed years of dancing helped him perfect it.

“You are so fucking good at that,” I whispered as I rocked my pelvis, encouraging him to go deeper.

“I’m glad. It gives me an excellent show,” he whispered and quickly doubled his thrusting pace.

I gasped and let my head fall back as he jarred my body in his excitement. I panted open-mouthed and aggressively squeezed my tits for his viewing pleasure. I enjoyed it too, obviously.

“You are so beautiful, Dolly,” he groaned.

I could feel his cock getting harder, and it was making my cunt twitch.

“Faster, Danny. I’m about to cum,” I panted.

“So am I,” he gasped.

We peaked at the same time and made a lot of noise in the process. He fucked me like a machine as his cum burst hot inside me. I cried out again and again as he prolonged the incredible orgasm with his manic thrusts. I didn’t know how he did it apart from a lot of practice. I squirmed and begged him to stop after a minute of breath-stealing tingles. My clit was painfully sensitive at that point. I knew his cock was too.

“My God, Dolly. You make me wild,” he whispered as he relaxed and kissed me.

I loved feeling his sweaty chest against my tits as his spent cock twitched inside me.

“You’re naturally wild, Danny,” I chuckled as I ran my fingers through his damp hair.

“Maybe so,” he sighed as he rested his head next to mine.

We gazed at each other as our heart rates slowed. It was wonderful being under him again. It made me wish he wasn’t a sex addict. We could have an exciting relationship if he didn’t need to fuck five times a day. I wish I had half his energy.

“Are you thinking about me?” he whispered with a smile. He could see it in my eyes.

“Yes. I was wishing you weren’t a man-whore so we could date again.”

“We can still date. I’m slowing down a little these days.”

“I couldn’t keep up with you on your slow days, remember? You’re a horny satyr that can’t be caged. End of story.”

“You’re a nymph and you know it,” he chuckled.

“Maybe a little,” I sighed.

“How are you doing, Dolly? Have you and Pacey hooked up yet?”

I looked at him in astonishment after that question.

“What made you ask that?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’ve been lusting after Pacey for years. It made me extremely jealous when we were dating, but I got over it. You never moved past flirting with him.”

“Oh my God. You knew all along while he remains clueless.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s clueless. Why aren’t you two together?”

“I’m his most erratic patient. He wisely keeps me at arm’s length. He’s too good for me.”

“He’s a good man, and you’re a good woman. I don’t want to hear you say otherwise. You make everything complicated, Dolly.”

“Exactly! That’s what I do.”

“That’s not what I meant. You make things complicated in your head when they aren’t.”

“Oh, maybe. I scared Pacey yesterday. I gave him a little peck on the mouth, and he flipped out.”

“Why would he flip out about that?”

“Because I had confessed to fucking Lenard Coleman earlier that day.”

“Fuck, Dolly, that’s pretty bad,” Danny sputtered, trying hard not to laugh.

“It was sad and pathetic. I was in bad shape yesterday.”

“I’m sorry, Dolly. I shouldn’t laugh. I know this week has been rough for you. Rose’s death hurt everyone that knew her, especially you,” he whispered and kissed my cheek.

“Thanks, Danny. I’m glad you came for a visit. Are you spending the night?”

“I wish I could. I have an early rehearsal tomorrow. If I fuck you all night, I won’t have the energy to teach the new hires. Like I said, I’m slowing down a little.”

“I have to be somewhere early, too. My interview with Harry is at eight o’clock sharp.”

“That’s another reason why I came. I wanted to warn you about him.”

“You came to warn me about Harry Coleman? I already know he’s a goon boss, Danny. He and Lenard both deserve to be in prison.”

“That’s an understatement. They have mob connections all over the city. Don’t make any deals with Harry. If you cross him a little, he takes it personally and will personally punish you for it. He can sweet-talk the toughest people into bad deals. Don’t let him talk you into anything. ”

“Of course I won’t. Where is this coming from, Danny? Have you gotten in bed with a Coleman brother?”

“With Harry, Yes. I’ve literally been in bed with him.”

My mouth dropped open after that revelation.

“No fucking way… Harry likes men? I didn’t sense that from him at all.”

“He likes to fuck me a few times a month. He won’t let me return the favor. As far as I know, I’m the only man he’s ever done it with.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“About six months. We met while I was working a show at the Dahlia with Rose. He was really shy about being with me at first, but now he dominates me every chance he gets.”

“Do you like it?”

“When he’s not angry, it’s fun. Otherwise, it’s scary. He’s a big guy, and he won’t take no for an answer. I’m glad he doesn’t treat women like he treats me. He respects women.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Danny. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, Dolly, don’t worry about me. I can navigate his moods. Just don’t get involved with him or make any promises. He takes everything personally.”

“Thanks for the warning. Now I’m going to be worried about you.”

“That’s flattering, but don’t worry. I’m a clever man-whore. I can take care of myself and three other people at the same time,” he said with a big grin.

I laughed at his group-sex reference before I kissed his inviting mouth. Our kissing led to more fucking and another noisy orgasm or two. It was after nine when Danny finally cleaned himself up and left the office. I cleaned up too and went straight to bed. I needed to be at the Dahlia Hotel early. I didn’t want to risk offending Harry after what Danny told me.

Chapter 6: Harry Coleman

A young bellhop greeted me in the lobby when I arrived at the Dahlia. I was ten minutes early to stay on Harry’s good side. The bellhop escorted me to a fancy private elevator. It was decorated better than a dressing room. My reflection in the body-length mirrors kept me distracted as we made our way down. My short white skirt and blouse hugged my curves perfectly. My white heels and hat made me look like an angel. That’s what Janice said before I left the office.

The elevator doors opened into a spacious basement. It was cool, musty, and mostly well-lit by a combination of high windows and electric lights. The bellhop led me to the right, where a small gym and boxing ring took up a good portion of the corner. I suspected illegal fights took place there at night. To my dismay, Greg Price was standing next to a pillar below the ring, wrapping his wrists.

The bellhop motioned me forward before he escaped back to the elevator. I sighed and approached Greg, wondering why he was at the Dahlia. He looked at me with a start.

“Dolly Nail, what’s a bitch like you doing in a place like this? Do you need knocking around?”

“Fuck you too, Greg. I’m meeting Mr. Coleman for an appointment. Why are you here?”

“Harry and I are sparring buddies,” he grinned.

“Really? Harry strikes me as a man with good taste. I doubt he’s your buddy.”

“Listen here, you stupid bitch,” he growled as he got right in my face. “Keep your mouth shut and stay out of my business if you know what’s good for you.”

“Greg, what the fuck are you doing?” growled a demanding voice from across the basement.

Our eyes jumped in that direction to see Harry stepping out of the shadows of the gym. He was shirtless and covered in sweat. He looked scarier when he wasn’t dressed in an expensive suit. I understood Danny’s fear at that point. Harry had fifty more pounds of muscle compared to Greg, and he wore it beautifully.

“Harry, I didn’t know you were here. I was uh… just prepping for our workout,” Greg stammered.

“How does threatening a beautiful woman prepare you for a workout? Does it make you feel manly?” he asked in a cool yet murderous tone.

“Sorry, Harry. Ms. Nail and I had an unpleasant falling out recently.”

“That’s not an excuse. Get in the ring,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Greg looked rattled as he hoisted himself into the ring. Harry was scowling as he watched him, then he turned to me and smiled pleasantly.

“Welcome, Ms. Nail. I’m sorry that windbag spoke to you like that in my hotel. I’ll punish him for it. Feel free to question me as I work. You look beautiful, by the way. I like you in white.”

“Thank you, Mr. Coleman. You look very, uh, healthy.”

I almost said ‘tasty.’ I loved how the sweat glistened on his biceps, but I decided to keep flirting to a minimum.

“Thank you. Please, call me Harry.”

“Of course, call me Dolly.”

He winked before he turned and hoisted himself into the ring. Greg was sweating bullets before Harry even raised his fists. I didn’t pity or envy the scumbag at that moment. He deserved whatever Harry had planned for him.

“So, Dolly, tell me about your recent falling out with Mr. Price,” he said as he paced around Greg.

“Certainly. I confronted Greg in his office after discovering the disturbing photos he took of Rose’s corpse, not to mention the crap he wrote about her in his article. He then insulted the dead woman again and threatened me.”

“Really? Is that true, Greg,” he snapped.

Harry sounded like an angry bull when he raised his voice. Greg gulped and nodded. I could see his knees shaking.

“What a pity,” Harry sighed. “Rose was a friend of mine. I also found your article and photos extremely tasteless. Not to mention the vague references you made to my brother and me. I’ve killed men for less.”

Greg’s face blanched as the biggest Coleman brother approached him.

“Harry, I’m incredibly sorry for offending you and Ms. Nail.”

“Silence,” Harry snapped, making Greg and me jump.

My heart was pounding as I watched Harry raise his right arm and punch Greg square in the nose, knocking him two feet back. The sound of the impact made me cringe, but the gushing blood didn’t bother me. I had seen worse. Greg was dazed as he staggered backward a few more steps. I’m sure he couldn’t see straight. Harry didn’t use all his strength with that punch. Greg wouldn’t be standing if he did.

“You left yourself wide open, Greg. Put a little effort into it,” Harry ordered, encouraging his prey to put up his arms.

It didn’t help. Harry stepped in and slugged him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Greg fell to his knees, unable to take a breath, and bleeding all over the floor.

“You talk tough for such a fragile fellow. Have you seen the error of your ways?” Harry asked as he grabbed Greg’s hair and jerked his head up.

Greg made a pitiful attempt to nod since he couldn’t speak.

“That’s good,” Harry smiled as he released his hair and picked up his right arm, “but you deserve a little more damage for your tasteless words to my beautiful guest. Allow me to rearrange this for you,” he hissed before he bent Greg’s arm backward over his massive bicep, tearing the elbow joint apart.

The howl of agony that followed turned my stomach. It sent me straight back to Étaples. Soldiers made that same noise when I reset their bones or amputated limbs. I made a similar noise when I saw Becky blown to pieces. Harry glanced at me and saw something in my expression that concerned him. He dropped Greg, rushed from the ring, and grabbed my arm, startling me back to the present.

“Dolly, are you alright? You look green. Take a seat,” he said in a gentle tone as he pulled me over to a chair and helped me sit down.

“Oh, I’m okay. Thanks for your concern, Harry.”

Greg wailed a few more seconds before he collapsed in the ring and lost consciousness. The silence that followed was immensely satisfying.

“Wow, they usually scream longer than that. Pathetic,” Harry sighed as he retrieved a towel and wiped the sweat off his face.

“Thank you, Harry, for hurting that sack of shit. He honestly deserved worse.”

“I know, but he’s useful sometimes. If he crosses me again, I’ll kill him.”

“I see. Well, thank you for making time for me today. I know you’re extremely busy. What can you tell me about Rose? Anything that might shed light on her murder would be greatly appreciated.”

“She loved you like a sister, Dolly. Did you know that?” he asked as he looked at me expectantly.

“I uh… I knew. I felt the same about her,” I whispered. My throat had suddenly tightened.

“I could tell. I saw it in your eyes the night we met. Come with me to my private suite so we can chat in a more comfortable setting. Is it too early for champagne?”

“It’s never too early for champagne,” I said and walked with him to the elevator.

Harry’s sitting room was fit for a duke. The mahogany furniture contrasted beautifully with the white and gold wallpaper and the mix of beige and brown upholstery. The floor was golden hardwood, softened with fluffy white area rugs. I relaxed on the sofa as Harry poured me a glass of champagne, then he escaped into the next room for a quick shower. I took the opportunity to snoop. I knew it was risky behavior around Harry, but it was my job. Besides, if he had something major to hide, he wouldn’t have left Dolly Nail unattended in his living suite.

His desk was my first destination. I peeked in all the drawers and picked the lock on one that held deeds and financial records. Finding nothing suspicious, I searched his bookcase next. A thick photo album caught my attention. It was packed with nude photos of showgirls and attractive young men. The nude pictures of Danny caught me by surprise. I had never seen erotic photos of a man before. That’s where Harry caught me.

“Like what you see, Dolly?” he asked as he stepped into the room, wearing a white satin bathrobe.

“Oh, uh… I do,” I gulped and started to close the album.

“Don’t close it. We can look at it together,” he offered as he sat down on the sofa and motioned me over.

I joined him on the couch with my stomach fluttering. Danny was a subject I wanted to avoid, but I tripped right into it.

“Ah, these are some of my favorites,” he grinned as I set the album across our laps.

“He’s beautiful,” I agreed.

“You would know. Danny’s your ex, isn’t he?”

The fluttering in my gut grew more aggressive at that point.

“He is. How did you know that?” I asked as I searched his big brown eyes.

“It’s my business to know details about important people and potential enemies. You’ve been on my radar for years now, Dolly. You’ve jailed and murdered a few of my business associates. They deserved what they got, so I had no reason to retaliate. Rose’s murder has brought our worlds a little closer,” he sighed as he flipped through the album until he found Rose.

My throat tightened at the sight of her beautiful smile. Her body was draped in a thin lace shawl that accentuated her breasts and slender waist. She was a feast for the eyes.

“How could someone butcher something so beautiful?” I whispered.

“I’ve met some sick individuals in my line of work. I could see a few of them doing this. If I knew who it was, I would tell you, Dolly. I would find them and help you kill them. Rose was a special friend to me. She helped me through a difficult time in my life. She introduced me to Danny. I assume you know the nature of our relationship since he visited you last night.”

I looked at him in surprise after that.

“Do you have people watching me?”

“No, I have people watching him. Don’t take me wrong, Dolly. I’m trying to protect the people I hold dear. What does Danny really think of me?” he asked with a smile.

“He enjoys you most of the time, but you scare him.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I scare a lot of people. Are you scared of me, Dolly?”

“Should I be?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Good. Then I’m not.”

He gave me a handsome smile and nodded.

“Friends are a rare occurrence for me. I’m not asking for your friendship at the moment, but I might in the future. I understand if you don’t accept. You should know, my friends have a blanket of protection in this city. It would be a good position for a detective such as yourself.”

“You mean a detective with a bloody reputation?”

“I do mean that. Your methods impress me, Dolly, but I don’t appreciate you using them on my brother.”

“Whatever do you mean, Harry? I haven’t threatened Lenard.”

“No, but you easily seduced him. He’s a sucker for blonde bombshells such as yourself. You could slit his throat and skip out long before anyone discovered him.”

“I wouldn’t do that unless he deserved it. Does he deserve it?” I asked, jumping on another subject I had hoped to avoid.

He scowled at me for a moment, and I scowled right back.

“He probably does, but he had nothing to do with Rose’s murder. Not directly, at least.”

My scowl deepened after that comment.

“You do know more than you’re letting on. If you’re capable of being honest, then be honest with me, Harry. Rose was like a little sister to me. I loved her like you love Lenard. I know you can understand how I feel right now. Put yourself in my shoes for two seconds and help me find who gutted my little sister,” I demanded.

Harry let out a growl of a sigh and rubbed his eyes.

“I’ll be perfectly honest with you right now, Dolly. I don’t know who did it, but I have ties with criminal groups all over the city. One group, in particular, is worth looking into. I thought of them when I saw Rose’s mutilated corpse. Greg has ties with them as well. That’s where he finds buyers for his morbid photos. For very specific business-related reasons, I keep my distance from these people. Lenard got mixed up with them a few years ago, and I had to make a lot of dirty deals to get him out of trouble. I’ll give you their address, but if you lead them back to Lenard or me, I’ll remove one of your limbs as payment. Understand?”

“I understand. It would be worth it to avenge Rose, but what you’re saying troubles me. Are you afraid of these people, Harry?”

“They’re a creepy bunch. The group is a cult, not a business. I try to stay away from that shit.”

Chapter 7: Bella Morta

After my interview with Harry, I left the Dahlia Hotel with a lead, and later that evening, I put on a disguise and took a cab to the outskirts of town. Instead of a blonde bombshell, I was playing a cute brunette with a pixie cut. Harry’s warning was fresh in my mind as I stared at the address he gave me. It was a swanky speakeasy close to the harbor. He claimed the illegal speakeasy was a front for the less-accepted illegal activities that took place in the basement. That wasn’t a new concept for me, but it added to the danger. My goal was simple. I planned to enter the club, snoop around, and try not to get killed. Janice promised to send Ducky in to look for me if I went missing.

My entrance into the club was smooth. A big jazz band was playing on stage while couples spun each other around on the dance floor. It was a lively scene that Danny and I would have enjoyed. I ordered myself a drink and watched the room from a small table by the bar. It didn’t take long to discover the guarded doorway in the back corner. I was accosted by a handsome man in a pinstripe suit before I could finish my drink. I thought of the devil, and he appeared.

“Danny, what are you doing here?” I asked in disbelief.

“Harry sent me to look after you,” he grinned as he parked his tight ass in the chair next to me.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Really? What would Pacey say about that?”

“He’s the only one allowed to babysit me,” I grumbled.

“He doesn’t know how lucky he is. What’s the plan?”

“I’m going to sneak into the basement alone. That’s the plan.”

“And how are you going to get past that goon at the door?”

“I’m good at sneaking.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a parade of curves and sex appeal. I found you almost instantly.”

I grumbled under my breath and looked at his handsome face. He had a point. He also had as much sex appeal as I did.

“Maybe you can help. Jump on stage and do that sexy dance you do with the Follies. It will be a perfect distraction.”

“Oh, that’s an excellent idea.”

I knew he would agree. He loved attention almost as much as sex. Two minutes later, Danny glided onto the stage like he owned the place. A cheer went up from the crowd as he impressed them with his spins and footwork. He looked tasty in his tight-fitting burgundy suit and hat, but I couldn’t waste time watching. I took advantage of the excitement and sneaked behind the burly door guard as he watched Danny do a spinning handstand.

The poorly lit stairwell led down into a stone hallway. The electric lights transitioned to candlelight in the basement. It was cool and smelled of mold. It reminded me of a French wine cellar. Little inset arches held candles every ten feet along the walls. A clean-shaven man with stern gray eyes and a pinstripe suit was sitting behind a small podium at the far end of the hall, so I approached him and said hello.

“Good evening, madam. Observing or participating?” he asked as he looked me over.

“Uh, observing.”

“Very well. Here are your specs and cloak,” he said and handed me a pair of opera glasses and a black cloak with a hood. “If you change your mind about participating, you must remove your normal clothes before entering a chamber, or you will be punished for breaking club rules. And, of course, no lewd behavior in the viewing halls. Proceed,” he said as he pulled a lever on the podium, causing a hidden door to the left to unlock and swing open.