Bombshell Dolly Nail

Suddenly, Danny staggered into the room from the guest suite, shaking like a leaf and sweating. He met my eyes and started crying.

"Dolly, what happened to me? I think I'm dying."

Harry and I rushed over to him and escorted him back to bed. I sat down with him and held him for many minutes. His heart was pounding, and he couldn't stop trembling. There was a bucket full of vomit beside the bed that Harry swiftly carried away. He returned with a fresh bucket a few seconds later. Danny almost immediately made use of it.

"God, Danny, I'm so sorry," I whispered.

Harry picked up the phone by the bed and summoned his personal doctor to the room. The man gave Danny a shot that knocked him out a few seconds later. I kissed his sweaty hair and left him alone to rest.

"Is the withdrawal usually this bad?" I asked as Harry and I returned to the sitting room.

"It was worse with Lenard. I thought he was going to die that first week. Danny is in better shape. He'll get over the worst of it in about three days. Don't worry, Dolly. I'll take good care of him."

"You better. I'll put a bullet in your ass otherwise."

"I believe you. What's your next step? I'll help if I can."

"I need some names. Anything that could connect me with a cult leader. Who bought Joe's bakery? Bella Morta was obviously trying to put someone they liked in a more profitable area. Do you know who it was?"

"I do. I have that name. Give me a minute."

He went into his office and returned with a small ledger.

"Morgan Kimble officially took ownership of the bakery for three days, then I made a lot of threats and got it back in Joe's name. Morgan got his money back, so there is no bad blood over that. The cult is just pissed that I prevented them from moving onto my street."

"I see. Do you know anything about Morgan?"

"He's a small business owner. He runs a cafe on the west side. He could have tripled his profits on a street like mine. People like Joe are smart enough not to sell for that reason. That's why the cult got involved and tried to force Joe out."

"I see. Why would they help Morgan, though?"

"That's a very good question. I suspect he did the cult a favor. Maybe he gave them something money can't legally buy. That's how most dirty deals work."

"I should pay Morgan a visit and see what he has to offer."

"Be careful, Dolly. You've caught a small glimpse of what Bella Morta can do."

"Thanks, Harry. I don't feel like shooting you anymore. Take care of Danny for me. I'll be back to check on him tomorrow if I'm not locked in a basement somewhere."

I took a cab to the address Harry provided. It was reasonably close to my office but too far to walk for a lunch break. It was an attractive cafe on a moderately busy street corner. They served breakfast and lunch all week except for Sundays. Business was slow at ten o'clock in the morning, so I made myself comfortable at the breakfast bar. A sweet-faced, elderly waitress took my coffee order, then I asked her about Morgan Kimble.

"Oh, Morgan is a good lad. He's down at the church right now, helping with the soup kitchen. Saturdays are slow, so he doesn't mind leaving me in charge. He's been running this cafe for more than ten years after his father passed. He loves his community, but he has been looking to move uptown. A lad with his energy would do fine on a busier street."

"I see. Before the move, would he be selling or passing the business to family?"

"He wanted to keep it in the family, but that fell through as soon as he suggested it. Now he plans to buy a new place uptown before he sells this one. That's a strange order to do it in if you ask me, but it's his money. I'm sure he knows how to use it better than me."

After that, the waitress turned to retrieve my coffee and bagel, so I excused myself to the restroom. The stairs in the back led up to the apartment over the cafe. I hurried up and picked the lock on the front door. The apartment was small yet comfortable. There were two bedrooms in use. One for a man and one for a woman, judging by the decor. A tiny office with a typewriter and phone was set up in the corner of the small living room. A strange mix of photos decorated the walls. One wall was dedicated to autographed portraits of the Ziegfeld Follies. I recognized many of them. Sarah 'Sissy' Macy, Patricia DuPont, and Rose Miles were in the collection. Some of the portraits were over twenty years old. There were Follies there that had inspired me when I was a little girl.

Suddenly, a noise from the stairwell sent my heart into my throat. I squeezed into the broom closet and held my breath. The shutter-style door allowed me a peek into the foyer and living room. A man emerged from the stairwell a few seconds later. He had stern gray eyes and a clean-shaven face. My throat went dry at the sight of him. Morgan Kimble was the doorman that let me into the Bella Morta gallery less than twelve hours earlier. He disappeared into his bedroom for a few minutes. When he stepped back into the foyer, he was dressed in a white and blue cafe uniform. He stepped over to the Folly portraits as he put on his hat. He smiled as he admired their beautiful faces. He touched one of the portraits before he turned and hurried down the stairs to the cafe.

I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out of the closet. Before leaving, I looked for the portrait Morgan touched. There was a fresh fingerprint over Patricia DuPont's mouth. Upon closer examination, there were fingerprints on Sissy's and Rose's portraits too. I made my escape after that. There was a door that led onto the street at the bottom of the stairs, so I ducked out of it instead of walking through the cafe. Morgan Kimble was likely an administrative member of the Bella Morta cult, making me want to avoid him until I could prove him guilty and shoot him.

Janice could see the stress in my eyes when I returned to the office. We had barely seen each other in two days.

"Get your notepad, Janice. We have a lot of shit to sort through."

Ducky brought us lunch and more coffee as we made a list of everything I learned since Rose's murder. A list of names preceded a list of their connections to the Bella Morta cult. What disturbed me the most was the cult's reach. The first person I saw mutilated in one of their styles was Ruth Compton, a fellow war nurse in France. That was seven years earlier and on another continent. Logically, a cult member likely committed the murder. The question on my mind was, did a local cult member do it while serving alongside Becky and me? It wouldn't surprise me if a nurse or doctor became infatuated with the Beautiful Dead before they left for the war. I avoided hospitals and clinics like the plague after my medical discharge, losing contact with my comrades in the process. I couldn't stomach any of it after what happened to me.

Greg Price was at the top of my list when it came to persons of interest. After seeing the photo of Rose smiling in the cult gallery, I needed to know if he took that photo. If he did, I planned to gut him for it. He was likely defenseless after Harry broke his nose, ribs, and arm, but my altercation with him would have to wait. I didn't have the mental focus for it after discovering Morgan Kimble's connection with the cult and the Follies. Morgan was potentially the creep that sent the threatening letters to Sissy.

Janice and I brainstormed and made inquiries all afternoon. We ended up eating supper at the office again. Ducky heroically brought us some delicious pastrami sandwiches and French onion soup. Ducky was a saint and part of my investigative team as far as I was concerned. I enjoyed watching him and Janice talk to each other like love-sick fools when we weren't working. It lightened the mood in the office, even though it made me feel like a third wheel.

A light rain was tapping the window as Janice organized our new files on the Bella Morta cult. Ducky was napping on the couch under the window, preventing me from taking my nap. My mind settled on Pacey as I watched the rain. It had been raining the last two times I saw him. He would be excellent backup when I visited Greg Price. Pacey could see a lie a mile away. He would likely say no. He avoided getting involved in my investigations, but I enjoyed having an excuse to visit him. I also owed him a check for my numerous unannounced appointments.

"Janice, I'm heading out to see Pacey. I'll be back before dark," I called and grabbed my umbrella.

Chapter 9: Needed Attention

My mind was in a rush as I left the office, but my body wasn't for once. My black umbrella was dripping as my heels tapped the drenched path. The sleepy, dark walls of the concrete jungle echoed with wet noises. It was a peaceful sound, but thoughts of Greg Price and his morbid photos kept me from enjoying it. What kind of sick person would photograph a dying woman while she was high on heroin? The more I thought about it, the grumpier I became. I was completely distracted by my thoughts as I stepped into Pacey's waiting room and dropped my umbrella in the stand by the door. A pleasant female voice startled me back to the present.

"Oh, good evening, Ms. Nail," Hanna announced from her place behind the reception desk.

I flinched at her, and she smiled in amusement.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Nail. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh, it's fine," I breathed as I collected myself. "Uh, is Doctor Keller in?"

"He is. He's with someone at the moment. Would you like some tea or coffee while you wait?" Hanna asked and motioned to the new beverage station in the corner.

Pacey talked about putting that there for months. It was a little table with a single gas burner and all the items a secretary would need to prepare a hot drink.

"Oh, that's cute," I chuckled. "I'm glad he finally added it, but I'm good for now. So, Hanna, is it? We saw each other in passing a few days ago. It's good to finally meet you face to face," I said and offered her my hand.

"Hanna Brice. The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Nail. You're a local hero. I've read about you in the paper multiple times. You make New York safer for women. That's quite a feat."

"Thanks, Hanna. It's a messy business, but someone's gotta do it."

Hanna was cute and full of flattery, but that didn't make her bad. I had to keep telling myself that. She had chestnut-colored hair, bright gray eyes, and full lips. After seeing her face to face, I had to rank her as a nine. That unsettled me.

"Doctor Keller should be done in a few minutes. Would you like for me to announce you?"

"That's not necessary. I'll relax and read the paper until he's done," I said and made myself comfortable in the chair opposite the desk.

The five minutes I sat there felt like an eternity. Hanna was scribbling away in what I assumed was her journal. I wasn't used to waiting on anything, especially not Pacey. My attempts to read the paper left me restless. At one point, I considered collecting my umbrella and leaving, but footsteps behind the main door stopped me. A gorgeous woman stepped through it a second later. She glanced at me and gasped.

"Dolly Nail?" she asked in astonishment as Pacey stepped out of the hall behind her.

"That's me, and you're..."

"Patricia DuPont. I worked with Rose Miles when she was a Folly. It's an honor to meet you, Ms. Nail," she said and shook my hand.

"Dolly," Pacey began, "I was just telling Patricia about you. I think you can help her more than I can."

"Really? How so?"

"Step into my office and we can talk about it. Hanna, you can head home now. I usually don't receive patients after five."

"Of course, Doctor Keller. Thanks for letting me work with you. Do I unlock the door at ten tomorrow since it's Sunday?" she asked as she gathered up her things.

"Yes, I'll see you then. Have a good night."

Pacey led Patricia and me back into his office as Hanna left for the evening. We sat down to talk while he escaped into the kitchen to make tea.

"What's wrong, Patricia?" I asked while observing the dark circles under her big green eyes.

"I haven't slept well at all. I've been too anxious. I came to Doctor Keller for something to help calm me down. The cause of my trouble was a random letter under my door. I have no clue who sent it. It seemed like a harmless love note at first. I dropped it on my vanity and forgot about it. Then news of Rose's murder swept through the theater. I sat at my vanity in shock after learning what happened. That's when I noticed the strange letter again, and my heart sputtered in my chest. Here, look at it. Am I crazy? Or is there a secret message in it?"

I picked up the note and read it. It was typed on pink paper and cut into the shape of a heart. The poem was simple and charming, but the hidden message made my blood run cold.

"Red hearts and golden stars

Open my eyes to the sky

Stop dancing long enough to breathe and

Enter my heart with your song

Is that you, my blushing damsel?

Standing in garish attire?

Don't tease me with your flirting

Even a little is too much to bear

An affair is fun for two

Don't tell the third wheel a lie

After a botched proposal

Not even a little humor survived

Did I miss my chance, my love?

Soon I will know the truth

Open your heart and be my muse

Are you, sweet Patricia?"

"Oh my God... 'ROSE IS DEAD AND SO Are you, sweet Patricia,'" I read in astonishment.

"That's not a fucking coincidence! It can't be. I'm not crazy, right?" she demanded.

"No, Patricia. This is serious. I spoke to Sissy Macy earlier this week. She's been receiving threatening notes too, and the last one hinted at Rose's murder. I need to speak with Chief Brooks and get officers to watch the theater. Can I use your phone, Pacey?"

After a few calls, Chief Brooks and a deputy came to Pacey's office to take a statement and safely escort Patricia home. I recounted the threats against Sissy and Patricia as Pacey and I walked Collin back to his car. He was livid after I told him what happened to Danny. He cursed Bella Morta to hell as he ripped off his hat and scratched his head.

"They've been quiet for a while now. I haven't connected any murders to them in years. You think they're directly responsible for Rose's murder?" he asked.

"I do. Did your officers find any notes like Patricia's in Rose's room?"

"Not that I recall. There's a small chance they were overlooked. Sissy's were mostly love letters, right?"

"Most of them were. They got darker and more threatening over time. I'll have to visit Rose's room tomorrow and do another search after I check on Danny."

"Let me know what you find. I'm going to make some coffee and dig up my old cult files. Call me if you need me, Dolly," Brooks sighed before he ducked into his car and drove off.

"What a week," Pacey sighed as we walked back into his office's waiting room to escape the drizzle.

"My work keeps bleeding into yours. Sorry about that."

"It's not a problem. What brought you here this evening, Dolly? Do you need to talk?" he asked as he searched my eyes.

"I did. I was anxious and wanted to talk shit about Greg Price. I'm better now. I have connections to follow up on. It's comforting."

Pacey smiled and nodded. He knew strange stuff like a lead in a case comforted me like a warm blanket.

"Uh, do you like the little coffee bar I set up for Hanna?" he asked as he presented it to me like a new car.

"I do. I'm glad you have someone watching the front now. It might help your business."

"I hope so," he agreed as he chewed on his bottom lip.

I suddenly sensed an awkwardness between us that wasn't there before. We weren't usually so formal with each other.

"Pacey, I wanted to apologize again for that awkward scene in the kitchen the other day. Did that... hurt our friendship?"

"No, not at all. I just, um..." he hummed and looked across the room with a scowl tugging at his handsome brow.

"You did nothing wrong, Pacey. It was all me. I made things awkward between us," I sighed in defeat.

"No. That's not it. I... have a date with Hanna tomorrow evening, and I wanted you to know," he said in a rush.

My mouth dropped open at that revelation. It came out of nowhere. I quickly closed my mouth and nodded, trying to hold back the flood of anger and hurt that was bubbling up inside me. Pacey had all the right in the world to date anyone he wanted. Hanna was beautiful and friendly, and Pacey deserved someone like her, not a shit-show like me.

"Um, okay, that's great," I stammered.

"Really?" he asked doubtfully.

He could see how rattled I was.

"Shit... I'm sorry, Pacey. I've had a rough week. I really am glad you're hitting it off with Hanna. She's beautiful, nice, predictable, and safe. A much better choice than me. Uh, why did you tell me about the date, anyway?"

He stared at me for a long moment, adding to my frustration. He looked hurt by my reaction, but he should have expected something inconsiderate from me. I existed to offend.

"I just... wanted to share the news with a friend," he stated. There was no conviction behind it.

"And you did because we're friends," I agreed. My throat was tight again. "I need to get home. I told Janice I would be back before too late. She's probably waiting for me. I'll see you around, Pacey," I said and stepped towards the door, but he grabbed my arm and stopped me.

Do you know that feeling when you're standing on the edge of a high wall, staring down at the ground, wondering if you would hurt yourself if you jumped? That was the feeling his touch created in my chest. It was wonderful and terrifying.

He gently pulled me back until our eyes met. I was surprised by the hurt and longing in his expression. He sighed nervously and touched my cheek with his warm hand. It made my chest feel light. He held me in his gaze for a moment, like he was trying to read my thoughts. Then his eyes drifted to my lips, and I knew what he wanted. Two seconds later, we were kissing. We kissed as if our lives depended on it.

Pacey tasted like he smelled, and I couldn't get enough of it. I matted my fingers into his soft hair and pulled his mouth harder against mine. He moaned as I worked my tongue against his. One of his hands held the back of my neck as the other pulled at my waist, crushing me against him. He was stronger than I imagined. His weekly visits to the gym were paying off. We stumbled over to Hanna's desk as we began tugging at each other's clothes. Pacey reached over and closed the window curtains before he pulled up my skirt, then he grabbed my ass and hoisted me onto the desk.

My heart leaped as he wrenched my underwear off and parted my knees so he could stand between them. He held my neck and kissed me again as I fumbled with his zipper. He reached down and pushed my hands aside so he could finish the task. I caught a short glimpse of his thick erection as he pulled it from his slacks. Then he pulled me close for another kiss. I shuddered when I felt his silky tip massaging my cunt, teasing to slide into my warmth. He stopped kissing me at that point and looked at me like a lover.

Pacey knew I belonged to him at that moment, and he wanted to enjoy my pleasure as much as I wanted to enjoy his. He watched my eyes as he pushed into me. I let out a satisfied groan as he opened me up deep inside. The angle of penetration was wonderful, and he was hard as a rock. I went a little shaky at the realization of who was inside me. Pacey Keller had his thick cock in my cunt. It felt better than I imagined, and I had often imagined him inside me.

"Oh, Pacey, please fuck me," I whispered with my heart pounding.

"How long have you wanted this?" he whispered as he gently rocked inside me.

I could feel his pulse throbbing through his cock as he massaged my inner muscles. I couldn't remember a time when I felt more aroused. My cunt was already twitching and clutching at his meat, ready to take whatever he would give me.