Walk on the Wild Side Page 2

  Erotica -- some very wild stuff -- along with several bottles of sensual oils and a vibrator. Liza herself wasn’t interested in stroke books -- she preferred the real thing -- but she recognized some of the titles. The Pearl. An illustrated version of the Kama Sutra. Delta of Venus. and a thick volume, My Secret Life. When she pulled out that one, it opened and another, smaller book fell out. It was bound in pink leather and secured by a brass lock.

  A diary. “Yesss!” She pumped her fist into the air. She would read it, of course -- crime victims had no privacy -- but first, she checked out its hiding place. Evidently Sindie Keller hadn’t cared for My Secret Life, because she’d pasted half the pages together and carved a square inside, creating a secret cubby where she’d concealed her diary.

  Using a metal nail file, Liza pried open the flimsy excuse for a lock and began to read, flipping through the pages at random.

  I think that Raymond White wants me ...

  She recognized the name of one of the city’s top attorneys, the managing partner of the firm Sindie had worked for. Sindie’s boss, who’d phoned the police chief and made such a fuss about his missing employee. Now Liza knew why. Raymond White’s favorite fuck had gone missing, and Ray wanted the SFPD to find his sweet little twenty-one-year-old piece of tail.

  She took the diary home to read that night.

  He came in when I was doing some research in the library. I was on a ladder, getting one of the older volumes down. He stood below me and peeked up my skirt. It was funny, most times men who do that are real slimes but this was Raymond White, and it was sexy, even if he’s older than my dad. He sure didn’t make me feel like my dad does! He always wears the most gorgeous suits and he doesn’t have a potbelly or smell like beer the way Daddy does ...

  Ray asked me to lunch and I told him that we’d need longer than a lunch. :)

  Liza winced. She didn’t know how long she could stand to read a diary punctuated by smiley faces. At least Sindie didn’t dot every i with a smiley face. That would have been intolerable.

  He asked me to come in and work with him on Saturday, that he was working on a big case and needed my help. Of course I said yes -- I really need the extra money, and it was Raymond White asking. Ooh, he’s so sexy. He’s a big guy with thick white hair and big hands, and everyone knows what that means ...

  We worked for a couple of hours and then he took me to lunch, just as he’d said. We went to Galway’s Pub and had Irish coffees and corned beef sandwiches in honor of St. Patrick’s Day.

  The freakiest thing happened when we were there. This gorgeous Asian dude came in. He was wearing a dark gray suit and a red tie though it was noon on a Saturday. Even Ray, who usually wears suits to work, was in khaki pants and a sweater, but this Asian guy was dressed as though he was going to a party.

  He was so hot that everyone in the bar stopped what they were doing to look at him. I did too, but then I noticed the look on Ray’s face. I’d never seen him scowl like that!

  “Who’s that guy?” I asked.

  Ray’s frown deepened. “That’s James Li.”

  James Li. Liza sucked in her breath. Despite what she knew about him, a thrill raced down her spine and coiled around her pussy. James Li. The plot thickens. Was the notorious James Li a major player in this mess?

  “Is he a movie star or something?” I craned my head to watch James Li, who went to the bar and ordered coffee.

  Ray huffed. “He’s a pimp.”

  “A real pimp? With hos?”

  “One of the biggest whoremasters in the city.”

  Liza agreed with White. But James Li was shrewd, damned shrewd, and although everyone knew what he did, the law had never caught up with him.

  I couldn’t believe it. James Li looked so young and clean-cut! He didn’t look like a criminal at all.

  Then he did the freakiest thing. He paid for his coffee with a fifty-dollar bill, then walked out of the bar, with a wink and a grin at the security camera set above the door.

  “What did he do that for?” I asked Ray.

  “James Li and Derrick Galway are enemies,” Ray told me. “Li comes in here several times every week, orders coffee, pays for it with a fifty or a C-note, then leaves. He knows it drives Derrick crazy.”

  “Why?” Free money, what’s wrong with that?

  “Derrick doesn’t need Li’s charity.”

  “Does he ever drink the coffee?”

  “No. He’s telling Derrick it’s not good enough for him.”

  I sat back. Way weird, I thought. Must be a guy thing, or an Asian thing. Daddy always said that Chinks are different.

  Being biracial, Liza frowned. Wonder what Daddy thinks about mixed-race cops?

  But the interaction between James Li and Derrick Galway was beyond interesting. Evidently Ray either didn’t know, or he didn’t tell Sindie, that Derrick Galway and James Li were engaged in the same line of work. Business rivals, with their boys and girls caught in the middle.

  Ray leaned forward and took my hand and I forgot about James Li. I couldn’t help it, I got so hot!!!

  Then he said he wanted to take me home!!!!! I knew he wanted to do it but I had to tell him that I live in San Leandro. He frowned and said, you know, that could change.

  I asked, how? I can’t afford anything in the city. He smiled and told me that he’d find me an apartment closer to work. The way he looked at me, I knew he’d want to have sex with me there.

  And that was fine with me. A girl’s gotta get ahead!

  A few pages later, Liza read about how Raymond White installed his young mistress into the Nob Hill studio.

  I don’t know what he told his wife, but that night, he took me to the Top of the Mark ... ha, that’s funny, he nailed my bottom at the top of the Mark! :-0!!!

  Even though he stuck his finger in first, it hurt, but it felt good in a freaky way, especially when he played with my clitty when he was in my butt. I came really hard and so did he.

  I’d do anything for Ray. Anything.

  He takes me to the best places and he treats me so nice. He’s taking me to this exclusive spa for massages ... He says he wants me happy and relaxed when he sees me.

  His wife is bedridden, has been for years, and he really needs me. I’m just a kid from Ohio, and this handsome, important man really needs ME :) :) :).

  A few pages later, Liza read:

  I think Ray likes it kinky ... We went to Eva Appel Spa today, and he insisted on being there when I was all naked. It was like being in a three-way when the masseur did me. Ray was watching the whole time.

  Then he asked for something called a Brazilian. I didn’t know what that was and oh God, it was terrible! This lady came in, and then Ray blindfolded me. I didn’t want to but he asked me, “Don’t you trust me?”

  Of course I said yes. More than anyone.

  So I’m blindfolded and naked, and they spread my legs apart.

  Liza winced. For the first time, she was feeling some empathy for this vic.

  Then I found out that a Brazilian is a Brazilian wax. They rip everything off, and I mean everything. It hurts like the dickens, even more than Ray fucking me in the ass.

  He held me down when they were doing it and laughed when I screamed, but then he cuddled me in his arms.

  Yes, Ray is definitely kinky.

  The lady, Gracinha, told me that in a day or two I’d completely change my mind. I doubt it.

  Ray took me home and licked me for, like, an hour. Even though I was sore, I came a lot. He told me I have the softest, sweetest twat he’d ever eaten, that he couldn’t get enough of me, that he couldn’t go back to his wife after having me.

  I asked him, what do you mean by that? After all, she’s sick and can’t do it. He said he didn’t even want to go home, he just wanted to lick my tasty ass all day and all night.

  He’s soooo sweet!

  So the vic was fucking her boss. Interesting, but not necessarily a clue. Flipping a few pages, Liza read:

  We were
shorthanded and I had to go down to the courthouse to file the complaint against China Doll Enterprises today.

  That name rang a tiny bell in Liza’s mind, but she couldn’t remember what ... She hoped it would come to her.

  Man, that place is full of sexy dudes in uniform. I don’t know what it is about cops. The heavy leather equipment belt slung low on their hips makes me hot. I saw one guy there, dark with a moustache, and I wondered how he’d look naked, with just that belt on, with his guns ... Why do guns make me hot? Am I a pervert?

  Duh, thought Liza.

  Anyway, I caught this stud’s eye and we started to talk. I’m meeting him for a drink at that bar near me ... handy.

  Liza wondered if she knew the cop. A few pages later she read Sindie had taken the cop home.

  We didn’t even make it to the bed. He kissed me goodnight at the door and one thing led to another. When he put his hand under my skirt he looked verrrry pleased to find my naked pussy, already wet and purring for him.

  Gracinha was right. Brazilians are hot. They make me feel hot, and for men ... wow. They can’t stop sucking and licking a bare pussy.

  We got the door closed and gave each other sixty-nine ’til we both got off. He has a really nice rod, not so long that he choked me. It was great.

  Liza’s hand strayed to her mound, but she didn’t buff the muffin. Her wild streak didn’t extend to jerking off to a kidnap victim’s secret diary, and she just didn’t have time for kicks. She read on:

  I’m bored. Ray’s all involved with that China Doll case. I want -- I don’t know what I want, but I want something, someone ... I read in a book, Exit to Eden, that a woman went to a transvestite bar to watch the freaks. I wonder what would happen if I did that?

  On the last written page of the diary, Liza read Sindie’s final entry:

  May 9

  Ray wants to play a game. He brought me some special clothes -- a red leather bustier and skirt -- and told me to go to Galway’s and wait for him. While I was waiting I was to order coffee and read one of the books he gave me, Story of O.

  “Huh,” Liza said out loud. The vic’s boss/lover had sent her into Derrick Galway’s pub dressed like a street ho to read a famous bondage novel in public. That was an erotic invitation few men could turn down, a young blonde reading an S&M book ... But what had happened? Had Raymond White shown up and faked his lover’s abduction? Had their kinky sex games gone wrong, and had he filed a fake police report to cover up her death?

  Chapter Two

  The next morning found Liza in court, testifying; that afternoon, after an unsatisfactory talk with her boss, she strolled into a tall office building at Pine and Montgomery streets. She took the elevator to the eleventh floor, occupied by the offices of White and Manning, Attorneys and Counselors at Law.

  The head of the Major Crimes Unit had scoffed at Sindie’s sex diary. Though it was the only evidence they had, he refused to allow Liza to bring Ray White in for questioning. “The chief will have my ass in a sling,” he told her. “Yours too.”

  So she’d interview White in a less formal setting, a setting in which he’d be in control: his office.

  The waiting room was dark and masculine, with polished wood floors punctuated with sculptured, forest-green rugs bearing a geometric pattern. Places like this used to make her nervous. She was a rough-edged kid from the back streets of West Oakland. Her mom was a waitress who’d worked her way up to managing a bar. Liza had never met her white father, a trucker. All she knew about him was that he had blue eyes, which she’d inherited.

  She approached the business-suited receptionist busy with the phones behind a heavy wood desk and, when she could get the receptionist’s attention, said, “Detective Eliza Bowman.” She flipped open her wallet to show her badge. “SFPD to see Raymond White.”

  Without showing a shred of emotion, the receptionist pressed a button that opened a security door to the firm’s offices. Within two minutes, Liza was ushered into the inner sanctum, the office of the managing partner, Raymond White.

  Sindie hadn’t exaggerated. The attorney was what Liza’s mother called a “silver fox,” a mature but attractive man. White looked as though he worked out, and not just in the bedroom. His well-cut, navy pinstriped suit complimented a full head of white hair brushed back from his broad forehead into a pompadour. With full lips and expressive eyes, Raymond White looked like Elvis if The King had kept himself up and avoided the peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwiches.

  “Well,” he said in a booming voice, “am I glad to see you! Any news about my missing paralegal?” He came from behind his desk, a well-kept hand extended.

  She took it, trying not to think about where that hand, those fingers had been. Sure, she knew everyone had sex, but she didn’t want to know the details. Having read large chunks of Sindie’s sex diary, Liza was aware that Raymond White’s big, beefy hands had probed and explored every nook, cranny and hole of his young mistress’s body, had opened her backside for anal sex, had seduced her into becoming his human sex toy.

  Shaking his hand was bizarre, to say the least. Liza dropped his hand and sat in a side chair.

  “We have some clues about Sindie Keller’s disappearance,” she said, picking her words carefully. “Her last known plans were to get coffee at Galway’s in North Beach. Do you know anything about that?”

  He blinked in an unconvincing show of ignorance. “No. I’m aware that she liked the place, but that’s all I know.”

  She smiled. White was lying, but why? She took out the pink diary and laid it on his desk. When he showed no reaction, she flipped to the last entry and read it aloud, watching Raymond White’s ruddy face bleach pale.

  “She kept a diary? That dumb twat.” He sat down heavily in the chair next to hers. Behind him, wide windows showed a few puffy clouds rolling in from the Bay. “Look, Detective. This can’t get back to my wife or her family. They ... they own me.”

  Lifting an eyebrow, she gestured at the lavishly appointed office.

  “Yes, yes, I know.” He swiped a shaky hand through his pompadour. “It looks good, but it’s all a house of cards. One strong wind and it all blows over. We’re in deep on some P.I. cases -- you know, personal injury cases where the firm puts up all the money for investigation and case preparation. Environmental stuff. We’re talking hundreds of thousands in expert fees long before we get to trial or settlement.”

  “How are you involved with Derrick Galway and James Li?”

  “Galway -- no. But I represent a group of folks suing James Li’s front company, China Doll Enterprises.”

  Oh, yeah. That was why China Doll seemed so familiar to Liza. “What for?”

  “Nuisance. They’re trying to get his Pacific Heights cathouse declared a neighborhood nuisance and closed.”

  She shrugged. “That’s one way of doing it, I guess.”

  White examined her with narrowed eyes. “It might prove to be more effective than the SFPD’s vice squad.”

  She pressed her lips together. James Li had been one of her few failures. She’d sworn she’d bring him to justice, but hadn’t been able to make an arrest turn into a conviction before she’d been transferred to Major Crimes.

  “You told Sindie Keller your wife was bedridden.” She took out a photocopy of a month-old article from the S.F. Chron. A picture showed Sheila White, looking quite chipper at a ball with her husband Ray on her bejeweled arm.

  “I’m not saying I’m a perfect person. In many ways I know I’m pretty ... twisted.” He picked up the diary and fiddled with its brass clasp. “I did ask Sindie to, umm, play a game with me. When I showed up, she wasn’t there.”

  “Did you ask anyone if she actually arrived?”

  “No, I was a little embarrassed about asking anyone if they’d seen a young blonde in red leather reading L’histoire d’O.” White grimaced.

  “I can understand that.” Liza rose, taking the diary from his grasp and tucking it safely back into her satchel.

 
; “Look, Detective Bowman.” He was sweating freely now. “I really can’t let this information get back to Sheila and her family. If she divorces me ...” He grimaced.

  “If she dumps you, you’re ruined.” She kept her voice flat.

  “That’s about the size of it.”

  She wanted to tell the old letch to keep his dick in his pants, but that would be unprofessional. “I won’t disguise from you the seriousness of the situation. As you might know, we don’t often investigate adults who stray outside their normal routines. People take off for vacations, whatever.” She shrugged. “It’s really not our business. But we’ve expended a lot of time and energy on this case on your demand, and now it seems that she disappeared while playing a sex game with you, one that you didn’t reveal. That could be interpreted as filing a false police report or even obstruction of justice. We don’t like to spin our wheels. Anything else we should know?”

  “No. No. That’s all I know. I swear. Sindie was -- I was going to meet her, but she wasn’t at Galway’s. Someone else must have picked her up.”

  “One more question. Did you see Ms. Keller in her apartment on May ninth?”

  “Yes. We, umm ...”

  “You don’t have to go on. A witness heard screaming. Would you know anything about that?”

  A smirk crossed White’s face. “Sindie was, well, loud, if you know what I mean.”

  “I can imagine.” Liza nodded at White before leaving his office.

  She returned the pink diary to Evidence before going to her place, mind racing.

  Did she dare?

  Yes, she did. Why not? She’d faced worse. Hell, there was at least a fifty-percent chance that little sexpot Sindie was holed up somewhere fucking her brains out. And maybe Liza could find out where by retracing the vic’s steps.

  But she wasn’t stupid. If Sindie Keller had disappeared from Galway’s, three possibilities existed: she’d left with Derrick Galway, James Li or, most frighteningly, a stranger had abducted her.