Blood Dahlia - A Thriller (Sarah King Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page B

he said.
    “Look for yourself,” she said, stepping to the side so he could see himself in the mirror behind the bar. The man evaluated his hair from all angles and nodded.
    “Not bad. You a stylist?”
    “No, just an observer of culture, I guess.”
    “What time do you get off?”
    “Two.”
    “You wanna grab a drink afterward?”
    “Why would I leave a bar to grab a drink?”
    The man thought a second. “How about something to eat?”
    “How about coffee?”
    He tapped his hand against the bar. “Coffee is perfect. I shoulda thought of that.”
    “ You can make it up to me later.”
    Sarah poured two shots, one for him and one for herself. She lifted her shot glass , and they tapped them against each other as the man said, “Salud.”
    The shift lasted another two hours. Toward the end, Sarah was thoroughly drunk. By her estimation, she’d had at least ten shots. She gulped down water and Sprite to help flush her system , but it didn’t seem to be helping much.
    She and Jeannie got to go on break at the same time, and they went out back to smoke. The back alley was quiet, only the dull thump of the bass coming through the walls. On the other side of the alley was a sushi restaurant, and sometimes the garbage stank like fish back here, but most nights it was bearable.
    Jeannie lit a cigarette and handed it to Sarah. She didn’t smoke, but whenever she drank enough , the urge came to her and she’d have a cigarette or two. Odd what alcohol did, she thought, considering that most nights the smell of cigarette smoke in the bar made her gag.
    “You goin’ home with that guy?” Jeannie asked.
    “Maybe. We’re gonna have coffee and see what happens.”
    Jeannie inhaled deeply, the cigarette tip glowing a bright red. “I’m taking out that one guy. The one that’s been bugging me for like three weeks.”
    “The guy with back hair poking out of his shirt?”
    “He doesn’t have back hair. It’s just like… I don’t know … manly hair.”
    She shrugged. “To each her own , I guess.”
    “You don’t think he’s cute?”
    “He is. Except he has back hair poking out of his shirt.”
    She smirked. “You’re such a bitch.”
    Sarah puffed at the cigarette. “What are you guys doing? Maybe we should make it a foursome date?”
    “He’s taking me back to his place. He has this huge hot tub, and we’re just going to hang out and—”
    Sarah didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. An intense pain radiated suddenly through her head. So powerful it was blinding, drowning out all sound and sight. Her fingers went up to her head , and she bent down as though she’d been punched in the gut.
    She saw it there. The hot tub. Jeannie was in her underwear , and they were kissing. The man said he would get drinks for them. He walked into the kitchen and crushed up a white pill and put it in a wine glass. He walked back out and gave it to her.
    Sarah saw the entire night —the torture and penetration with inanimate objects, like a lamp and pliers. He needed them passed out for that. They would never consent to the pain otherwise.
    In the morning, they would wake up in the park or at the front of a hospital if the injuries were severe. Then he would never go to that bar again.
    “You okay, hon?” Jeannie said.
    “I’m fine. I just need a sec,” she said through gritted teeth.
    “It’s that tequila. I keep telling you to—”
    “You can’t go with him, Jeannie.”
    “What?”
    “He’s going to drug you in the hot tub. He needs you drugged. You can’t go with him. Promise me you won’t go with him. Promise, Jeannie.”
    “I’ve already gone on a date with him, Sarah. He was a perfect gentleman.”
    “No, no , you have to promise me you won’t go with him. Please. Please!”
    Jeannie was stunned into silence a moment before she said, “How do you even know?”
    “I know. I know… please, you can’t go with him.” She grabbed Jeannie by the arms. “Listen to me. He is going to rape you. You