Read The Trophy Hunter Online

Authors: J M Zambrano

Tags: #empowered heroine, #necrophilia, #psychopath, #serial killer, #thrill kill, #women heroes

The Trophy Hunter (13 page)

No
love,
no
kisses.
Thank
goodness. Also, no reference to the work she’d half agreed to do
for him. And best of all─no further sightings of Joe Flannigan or
his truck.

Thwack!
She missed again.

“Diana, what’s wrong with you? You’re
somewhere else.” Winston stopped playing and walked over to her,
hefting the ball, his racquet tucked under one arm.

Now or never. “Winston, I’ve got a
problem.”

“Okay, let’s hear it.” His voice was
friendly, but seemed to have an edge to it. “Do you want to stay in
here or─”

“Yes, I do.”

Diana couldn’t help but notice how fit and
trim he looked in navy shorts and white t-shirt. He hadn’t even
broken a sweat during their several volleys. She felt a trickle of
perspiration run down her cheek. “I have a conflict of interest
thing I want to run by you.”

“Rogart and Flannigan?” Winston’s brows knit
together as his tone grew angry.

“Jess told you?”

“What do you think?”

“You two … are back together?”

“Not in this lifetime. I love Jessie, but I
can’t live on her roller coaster. Doesn’t mean we can’t get
together to help somebody we both care about.” He put a warm brown
hand on Diana’s arm.

She turned away so he couldn’t see the tears
that were welling in her eyes.
Damn.
She never used to be
such a crybaby. When were those hormones going to get adjusted? She
swallowed a couple of times before she could be sure of her voice.
“I returned Flannigan’s retainer. I didn’t do any real work for
him.”

“You listened to his story. You entered into
a contract with him, went to his home and interviewed his
wife.”

“But at that point, I decided I couldn’t
represent him.”

“Fine. You can do that since you weren’t
immersed in a court trial. But you can’t turn around and represent
the man that Joe was going against. Diana, that’s basic stuff. Not
hard to figure out.”

To her shame, the clarity of his words
brought forth a torrent of tears. Embarrassment like none she’d
ever known cut her down to worm-level. She’d never cried in front
of her mentor. Never even came close. How could a divorce and a …
surgery turn her into a total incompetent?

Winston wrapped a strong arm around her
shoulders. “We all make mistakes. What counts is catching them
before any shit happens.”

She blinked at him, unable to speak.

“You’ve done that. Move on.”

She knew her tears were probably making
Winston as uncomfortable as they were making her. Then she looked
out the glass at the front of the court and saw a couple waiting,
wondering no doubt why they didn’t leave if they weren’t
playing.

Winston followed her glance. “Shall we
continue this conversation in the juice shop?”

She nodded and followed him out the door,
head down as she passed the people waiting for the court. They
threaded through the maze of body-builders and exercise equipment
to the juice shop, where Diana ordered a Chai tea, and Winston, a
pineapple smoothie. Then they retreated to a quiet corner to wait
for their drinks.

“I know you’ve been through a hell of a lot
lately. But, Diana, you’ve got to learn to recognize patterns,”
began Winston.

“Patterns?”

“Greg and Rogart. Womanizers. Con-men. And,
as you ladies say, hunks.”

Diana’s flow of tears ceased abruptly.
“They’re nothing alike. You don’t even know Darren Rogart and you
hardly knew Greg.”

“You don’t need to get that close to the
leopard to see his spots.”

“That was low, Winston. Greg deserves what
you just said. But I don’t know about Darren Rogart. I’d like to
think he’s a decent human being who’s made some bad choices.”

Their drinks arrived and Winston took a long
draw on his straw before answering. “I hope you’re right.”

She took a sip of tea and closed her eyes for
a second, trying to look inside herself for answers. “I think it’s
the attention. And the fact that he’s good-looking doesn’t
hurt.”

Winston chuckled. “So, you admit it?”

“And he already has children.” She surprised
herself with the words. Looking up, she caught a puzzled look on
Winston’s face.

“Maybe Jess didn’t tell you. I lost more than
the baby. I can’t have children.” She could hear the self-loathing
in her own voice.

“I know that.” He reached across the table
and took her hand. “I have no children. Does that make me less of a
man?”

“Yours is by choice.”

“You don’t know that. Besides, it’s
irrelevant.”

She looked into her glass of tea, as if an
answer could be hiding there.
Diana, did you do something?
She wondered if she hadn’t attacked Greg on that fateful day, and
then gone running around the office like a madwoman … if … if …
maybe ….
No.
She pulled herself away from the thought,
focused on Winston. “I know what you’re saying makes perfect sense,
but there’s this huge gap between what I know and what I
feel
.”

He still held on to her hand. “Time will
bridge the gap.” Then he let go and took another drink of smoothie.
Diana watched a twinkle creep into his eyes. “Would you say the
fair measure of a man is his penis?” he asked.

Diana laughed.
Talk about mood swings.
“I don’t know, Winston. Maybe.”

Now he scowled at her. “Seriously, Diana, for
you, an educated, successful woman, to equate yourself with your
reproductive attributes─”

She cut him off. “Easy for you to say.”

Winston’s eyes narrowed as his grin crept
back. “How would you know?”

“You know what a blabber-mouth Jess is. By
the way, do you think she’ll ever speak to me again?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised. Why don’t you call
her?”

* * * * *

On her way home from the club, Diana stopped
off to make a couple of purchases at the grocery store. When she
got home, a message from Jess was on her machine.
He must’ve
called her on his cell as soon as we left.

Jessie’s voice was a welcome sound. “My
sources tell me you’ve been messin’ with another of my men. I
challenge you to meet me at Body Works tomorrow night. May the best
woman win!”

 

 

 

Chapter 24

 

Stars jutted from a black onyx sky above
Diana as she exited her car in the nearly empty Body Works parking
lot. The snow had moved eastward, scooping up the cloud cover and
leaving a lung-searing cold in its wake. Too cold for all but the
stout of heart.

She instantly spotted Jess’s car as she
walked briskly toward the entrance. A slip on the icy sidewalk
toned down her pace as she observed Jess and Winston through the
glass, waiting for her by the front door.

“You’re both here. Now I know I’m in
trouble,” said Diana as she flung open the door.

“Do you want to do weights or treadmill or
bike?” asked Jess as the three signed in.

“What about aerobics? Don’t you teach
tonight?” Diana wanted to know.

“Not tonight,” said Jess. “We’re all yours.
Or you’re ours. Let’s see how it goes.”

“Do we talk first?” asked Diana as the three
entered the gym, Winston keeping a cool distance behind the
women.

“No problem finding three machines together
tonight,” said Winston as he looked around the gym. It was 8:00
p.m. on a Tuesday night. In better weather they’d have to wait for
even one machine.

“I think we can manage that,” said Jess.
“Lots of choices.” She looked hard at Diana.

“Let’s go change and hit the treadmills,”
suggested Diana.

“See you ladies in a couple minutes.” Winston
headed for the men’s locker room.

Inside the women’s locker room, Diana looked
expectantly at Jess. “Are you going to tell me why Winston’s
here?”

“Do you mind? Shall we send him home?” Jess’s
voice had a sarcastic edge to it.

Wonder if they both came in the Camaro.

They set to the business of changing into
workout attire. Diana noted Jess’s outfit─a low-cut crimson and
black leotard with black tights. “Pretty sexy. Is that for
Winston?”

“It’s sure as hell not for you.”

Diana guessed she’d been right. Jess was
probably reluctant to let him go. “So, are you going to tell me why
he’s here? Of course I’m always glad to see him. But in your
message, you referred him as one of your men. Are you back
together?”

Jess laced up her Adidas with a vengeance.
Diana thought she’d break the laces. “No. I was making a joke.
Okay? We are both worried about you. We care about you. Winston
cares about you. That’s why he’s here.”

“And I care about him.” As the words left her
lips, Diana quickly added, “And you, too. Jessie, I’ve been
miserable these last few weeks. I screwed up by even thinking I
could represent Rogart.”

Jess, who rarely touched other females, put
an arm around Diana’s shoulders. “No. I screwed up by involving you
in this mess,” she said softly as they walked toward the door to
the gym.

“What took you so long?” asked Winston as
they walked toward the treadmills.

Diana saw him eye Jess up and down.
The
spark lives, and she knows it.

As Diana chose a machine, Jess and Winston
positioned themselves on either side of her. Then they all set
their speeds and timers.

Diana began, as they trod their black rubber
trails, “You will both be pleased to know that I’ve told Darren
Rogart that I can’t be his lawyer.” There. And she wasn’t even
breathing hard. She’d reserve the part about Darren’s inviting
himself to dinner until after the fact. Maybe it wouldn’t even be a
tale worth telling.

“How did he take it?” asked Jess.

“Like a man,” Diana smirked.

She heard a disgusted snort from Winston.

“No, seriously, Winston. It wasn’t as hard as
I thought.”
Oh, jeez, that didn’t come out right.
“I mean,
he took it well, didn’t argue the point.”

She glanced from side to side at her friends.
Eye-rolls from both. “We heard you the first time,” said Jess.
“Point is my night as a Colfax whore may have exposed a whole new
side to Darren Rogart.”

Diana missed her stride and nearly
tripped.

“No sweat. Winston knows the whole, sordid
story. You’re the one who doesn’t.”

“You were supposed to tell me about it on the
plane to L.A. Something about a witness who saw the missing girl.
And a dead guy’s truck.”

“I was putting it all together, hoping Darren
would fill in the blanks,” said Jess, her stride never wavering.
“That didn’t happen, so here goes. I’m not on the street five
minutes when some Hispanic chick comes up to lecture me about my
clothes.”

“You looked vintage Halloween.”

“Shut up and listen.” Jess punched the
console to increase her speed. “I showed her Patty’s picture and
almost immediately she claimed to have seen her with a man. Like in
a bad movie, the man just happens to drive by and the chick tries
to get me to follow her into his truck.” Jess shook her head, but
kept on trekking. “Bad scene. In a rare flash of insight, I see
myself on a morgue slab. The cops cruise by─well, one cop─and the
dude in the Silver Ram takes off─”

“Silver Ram?” Diana stopped treading. Her
feet flew out from her as the treadmill continued. Winston reached
over, shut off the machine and then helped her up. She clung to him
a moment, trying to gather her equilibrium, before turning to Jess.
“Joe Flannigan’s been stalking me in a silver Ram. Was the license
HUNTER 1?”

“No. HUNTER 2, as in the numeral two,” said
Jess as she shut off her treadmill. “And that’s what really takes
it beyond strange─”

“No. HUNTER 1,” Diana interrupted. “I saw it
in his driveway the day I went to his house.”

“Well, it may not have been a two on that
license, but it sure as hell wasn’t a numeral one.”

“Ladies,” said Winston, “there are obviously
two trucks.”

“Yeah, there are,” said Jess. “And mine’s
registered to a dead man. No doubt about who died. I saw his morgue
shot. His face wasn’t disfigured or anything. The wife identified
him.” A frown then creased Jess’s brow. “If it wasn’t for the
difference in the license numbers, it could’ve been Flannigan
behind the wheel. Whoever he was, he was a big, bulky
son-of-a-bitch.”

“Don’t you see? If Joe had tracked down the
girl, that corroborates Darren’s story,” said Diana.

“But it wasn’t Joe’s truck,” said Jess. “It
was Strickland’s. And the chick said she saw Patty
in
the
truck. Why would he come back if he had her?”

“She got away again?”

“Not likely. You’re the lawyer. You know what
Joe’d be facing if she talked. He’d probably finish her off.”

Winston moved beside her, and Diana saw anger
in his body language. “Joe Flannigan is
not
capable of
something like that.”

Jess threw her hands up in frustration. “We
don’t know that.” She grabbed Diana and shook her. “Just cool it
with Rogart until we can come up with some hard facts.”

“I second that,” said Winston. “I’ll ask Joe
about the trucks. Funny thing, he hasn’t been to a meeting in
weeks.” From the look on his face, Diana surmised he might be
having second thoughts about his endorsement of the man. “Don’t put
yourself in a compromising position with Rogart until we know
more,” said Winston in an ominously quiet voice.

“Compromising? As in don’t sleep with him?”
Diana rubbed her arm where Jess had grabbed her. “I hadn’t exactly
planned on that anyway.”

“Have you been seeing him?” asked Jess.

Again with the strident tone.
“No. I
told him on the phone about not taking his case.”

“You’re sweating,” observed Jess. “I don’t
think it’s from this puny workout.”

“My HRT must need adjusting,” blurted Diana.
She glanced self-consciously at Winston. His brows were knit
together in that puzzled look of his that sometimes made her want
to laugh This wasn’t one of those times.

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