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around me like a blanket on a chilly night. I could do nothing but stare into his eyes, spellbound. Carlos drew me by my shoulders and kissed my forehead softly. I gripped his arms, the chaste touch rocking my world more than anything I’d ever experienced.
    Without another word, he stepped back and disappeared through the door. I leaned against the back of it, faintly recalling his reminder to lock up. Tonight was the longest that we’d ever spoken and I was still left with more questions than answers.
    Who was Carlos Fuentes and why on earth was I disappointed that he’d kissed me on the forehead and not on the lips?
    I finally gathered my composure and leaned away from the door. Taking off the lights, one by one, I took a bath and then prepared for bed. Unfortunately, I could not rest. The shadows shifted and I imagined The Executioner, a faceless figure, looming over my bed. I saw the sharp tool that he used to murder his victims. It wigged me out so, when I eventually drifted off, I dreamed of severed heads and tortured screams.

Stoker hated it when they screamed. This little one was as loud as another he remembered in Belize City. Surely she had pursued the wrong career. With lungs like that, this little missy could have made it big in opera.
    “Sh, sh,” he winced. The abandoned property was far enough away from civilization and deep underground so that no one would hear her screams.
    But they were still annoying.
    The girl continued to make a racket. Stoker sighed and doubled her dose. The drugs would have to work double time to get her to shut up. He turned around and stared at her face. She had such pretty grey eyes and an innocent air. What on earth was she doing in a strip club like Mickey’s .
    Something about her reminded him of his mother. She’d been small too, birdlike. The men that paid for her company often slapped her around just because they could. It angered Stoker, reminded him of his impotency.
    This cruel world had to realize just how dangerous these women were. The police had managed to hush his other gift. Surely they would not be able to quiet the next sacrifice.

Chapter 7
    Whether or not I’d wanted to stay away from Mickey’s , I was summoned the next day. All the Mickey Girls past and present stood in a circle around the scene of the crime as police officers roamed the room.
    “Why are we here?” Lila inquired, tossing her dark hair behind her shoulder. Her creamy, fair skin was perfectly made up in the light of day.
    “I think they want to question us.” I replied.
    None of the other girls knew about the serial killer yet. I was wrestling with the desire to warn them. I’d decided to sit back and let the police handle things their way for the time being. If they didn’t say anything, I would speak up. Our lives were too important to leave things to chance.
    “Why didn’t they just do it at the precinct?” Leah, Lila’s twin, pointed out.
    “I don’t know.” I shrugged.
    “And where’s the new girl?” Iva inquired. “I thought all the Mickey Girls were supposed to be there.”
    “Probably nursing a hangover. Manuel’s covering for her. She was pretty plastered last night.” Lila laughed.
    Before I could add my own insult to the mix, a short man in the beige and blue police uniform entered from the direction of Manuel’s office. The deputies that were roaming the hall stiffened so I figured that the newcomer was someone very important.  He held a clipboard in his hands and walked with an upright stature.
    Manuel followed close behind him, his face inscrutable. For the first time, I experienced a mixture of feelings when I looked at him. After the way Carlos’s touch had affected me last night… something had changed. My tie to Mickey’s was closely intertwined with my affections for Manuel. He was always surrounded by beautiful women in scanty clothing. I liked to keep an eye on him.
    “Good morning, ladies. I’m Detective Sheldon.” The officer with skin