“Look, I got some information. On Alexander Petrov.” Dez sat up a little straighter. True, her removal from this case made this a slightly inappropriate conversation, but why scare off a potential lead with that unnecessary bit of information?

“Okay.”

“Can you meet me?”

“Where?”

“The Chapel. At eleven-thirty.”

The Chapel. A hot Village club she could never hope of getting into without her badge. “Isn’t there another place we can—”

The woman cut her off. “I’ll be there. You won’t have a problem getting in.”

“You work there?”

Dez received a long pause. For a moment, she thought the woman hung up. “My family owns it.”

Dez bit the inside of her mouth to prevent herself from saying something stupid. An effective technique she learned years ago. “So, you’re a Brutale?”

“Yeah. Gina. Gina Brutale. Meet me there at eleven-thirty. Tell the guy at the door you’re there to see me. Give him your name but don’t say detective…and try not to look like a cop.” Brutale hung up.

Dez closed her phone and glanced at the clock on her nightstand by her .45. This would work nicely. Dinner with Mace at eight o’clock. Having to handle work at eleven-thirty kept her from doing something monumentally stupid. Like going back to Mace’s hotel room or giving him a blow job in the restaurant bathroom. You know, whatever…

Mace turned over in the king-size bed and buried his face into the pillow. That woman’s voice would be the death of him. Knowing she sounded like that when she woke up turned his cock into a lead pipe. He couldn’t wait to experience that for himself. Waking up with Dez growling next to him. He would experience it, too. He’d waited too long for this. For her. She simply had no idea what she did to him. She never did.

Mace went back to sleep and dreamed about him and Dez.

And Dez’s handcuffs…

Dez stood next to her partner as they waited for the M.E.

“Don’t forget, MacDermot. You’re not here.”

“Nope. Right now I’m out singing carols.”

“Let’s not push it.”

John Michaels, one of the city’s best M.E.s, pushed open the double doors. “Good. You’re both here.” He motioned to them, and they followed him inside. Alexander Petrov’s naked body lay out on a metal table.

“I want to show you two something. Here.” He pointed to the man’s throat, and both Dez and Bukowski leaned over and examined the area.

“What is that?”

“Claw marks.”

Dez frowned. “From a dog?”

“Awfully big claws for a dog, in my opinion. Plus something’s not quite right.”

“What do you mean?”

He motioned to her,and Dez went and stood in front of him.

“If an animal clawed his throat, we would have found three to four swipe marks here.” He tapped one side of Dez’s neck. “Or here.” He tapped the other. “Or both.”

“Okay.”

“But what I found on this vic is very different.”

“Like what?”

“There’s a bruise across his throat. Four claw marks on the left side of his neck and one on the right. Which would imply this…” He wrapped long fingers around her throat. Four on one side. His thumb on the other. “Now pull away from me, Detective.” Dez did, and Michaels’s gloved fingers painlessly slashed across her flesh.

The two stared at each other. “Holy shit.”

Bukowski stood next to them. “I don’t get it. What am I missing?”

Dez looked at her partner. “How many animals you know got thumbs?”

Dez and Bukowski stood on the street corner while she pulled gloves onto her hands. As soon as Bukowski pulled out one of his rare cigarettes, she knew he was freaking out. “What’s with you?”

“Doesn’t this whole thing freak you out in the least?”

“Nah.” Dez shook her head. “A real puzzle to solve. I live for this stuff. Besides, it’s probably some wacko wearing a clawed glove or something.”

Bukowski smiled. “You’re a weird one, MacDermot.”

“So my sisters keep reminding me.”

“Where you going now?”

Dez pulled her notepad out from her back pocket and checked her list. “Shopping for the family…that’ll be fun. Gotta order those goddamn pies too. Dinner with Mace. And meeting with Gina Brutale.”

“Gina Brutale? Why are you meeting with her?”

“She says she has information on Petrov.”

“Dez, you’re not supposed to be meeting with informants. You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“She called me directly. If you show up instead, we won’t find out a goddamn thing. Don’t worry, if I get anything really juicy, I’ll make sure to let you know. Okay?”

“Be careful. Those Brutales are not a nice bunch of people.”

“I know. I know. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“And don’t think for a second you slipped that bullshit about Llewellyn past me. What do you mean you’re having dinner with him?”

Damn. She really thought she’d gotten away with that.

“He called me this morning and asked me out. Again.”

“And you said yes? Are you high?”

“Not in years. And I don’t see the problem. Mace Llewellyn is an old friend of mine. We’re just having dinner. Nothing else.”