It was a cold night, and the time was twenty minutes past eleven. Up in the sky, there was a big, white moon like the face of a dead man. It cast its hard white light over the bungalows and rows of palm trees that lined the beautiful streets of Millionaires Rows. In one of the apartments meant for the stinking rich, Jessica Hill could be seen sitting stiffly in a lounge chair, a stick of cigarette hanging limply from her well-shaped lips.

She was dressed in a pale-green wool sweater that emphasized the swell of her full breasts and a short black skirt that showcased her long, tapering white legs. Her long dark hair was pulled back with a narrow ribbon, and as she sat in the lounge chair, one could see she had the air of authority of a woman who was very sure of her beauty.

There was a cold expression on her face and her dark, blue eyes stared hard at her cell phone and the gold telephone on the well-polished table in the living room. Her mind was on fire. She was awaiting the call of her lover, Kevin.

She shifted uneasily, drew smoke into her lungs, and then blew a long stream to the ceilings. Why does he always keep her waiting? She thought. The other night when he had called, he had told her he would call her the next day so that they could fix the date she was to meet his family, so why had he not called?

She thought of the long nights waiting for his calls that she had endured from him in the past, and she wondered how she had been able to sail through it. She had often told him that if he were too busy to call, she would gladly call him. Yet he wouldn't accept this simple logic, telling her he would be too busy to pick up her calls. I was born stupid, she told herself. If she had not been stupid, she wouldn't have fallen in love with an uncaring and unfeeling person like Kevin.

She had refused many advances from lots of men—Old men, rich men, handsome men, rich playboys, well-known bachelors, and intelligent business-men—all because of him. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted a man in her life. His good looks and violent, short-lived temper were strong male qualities that appealed to her. That was why she had often discussed settling down with him.

And yet, she often asks herself, why should he care about her? He was very handsome, rich, and quite charming, and he could have any young girl he ever wanted, so why should he give a damn about a love-struck thirty-five-year-old woman sitting in a chair waiting for him to call?

For weeks she had been wondering how much longer it would last. Whenever he kept her waiting like this, there was always this sickening, frightening fear that he had found a woman much younger and more beautiful than her, or maybe he had planned to give her the brush off but didn't know how to go about it.

Then she would hear the telephone ring, and his husky voice telling her how much he loved her, and all the fear would go away. She had always promised herself to rebuff him for his carefree attitude and late-night calls. And maybe tell him to go to hell for all she cares. Inwardly, she knew she wouldn't. Damn him!

She eased her stiffness by stretching out her long, slim legs, and she dragged her eyes to the expensive wristwatch he had bought for her. It was past her bedtime. Maybe he wouldn't call tonight, but she doubted it. He always calls. He would make the call. She was sure of that. This night was no different from any other, so why should she worry herself sick? She pulled herself together and crushed out the cigarette. Then she got up from the chair and crossed the room to the cocktail cabinet.

She fixed herself a drink of whisky and ice and sipped it. Then the cell phone started into life. Its sudden sound made her slop her drink and turn white.

At the same time, the sound flooded a great relief through her body. Finally, he had called! She dropped the glass on the bar counter and hastily padded to the telephone, her heart hammering as she snatched it up. She didn't even bother to check the caller's name.

“Oh, my darling,” she babbled, sweat glistening on her forehead. “I missed you so much. I've been waiting for so long."

“Sorry! It's Mira, ma'am,” the voice on the other end said.

Jessica's body trembled as the sickening bile of disappointment hit her hard in the stomach. It was a female voice. It was not his voice.

“Who did you say it was?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“Mira! From Due's Fashion Store! We've got some new dresses that just arrived from Italy. I just wanted to tell you about it."

Jessica gripped the telephone to her ear, her hands clammy with sweat. The hurt she had felt had shaken her violently and it made her voice seem paralysed.

“Hello! Are you there?” the caller continued.

Jessica snapped out of her trance.

"What store is that?"

“Due’s Fashion Store! It’s on Lincoln Road Mall."

In her vaguest memory, Jessica remembered the name. It was one of those happy, lazy days when Kevin had taken her out on a shopping spree, and he had bought almost all the items in one of the clothing stores they had visited. Mira, the salesgirl, had been so shocked she had begged her for her number to update her on any of their new collections.

“You’ve got to be wet behind your ears, girl!” she said, a bite in her voice. “Don’t you know the time you're calling?"

“I’m so sorry, Ma'am. It won't happen again. I'll be more careful next time," she apologized.

“There won't be a next time," she said hotly. “I promise you that." And she ended the call.

Fuming and muttering incoherent words to herself, she tossed the phone onto the sofa, crossed the room to the bedroom, and went into the bathroom. When she was done in the bathroom, she came back to the room with a look of wild rage and contempt on her beautiful face. She flopped hard into one of the settees and curled up her legs. As a result of the drink she had, she felt her body relax. A little lightheaded and drowsy, her thoughts shifted slowly to Kevin.

Her mind went to the day she had met Kevin and how she had fallen in love with him. She remembered how he had taken her to his home, then into his bedroom. His fierce, brutal, self-lovemaking was something Jessica had never experienced. That first sordid act of so-called lovemaking chained her to him, excusing his selfishness, self-centeredness, and forgetfulness.

But now the thought of the violent lovemaking they had snapped something in her head. and unable to control herself, Jessica, slightly drunk, sat on the settee and slid one of her well-manicured fingers into her mouth, took it out, and slid into her panties. She caressed the soft triangle of hair before inserting the wet finger into her vagina, and she began to thrust with desperate urgency. She thrust harder and harder, her mouth opened, and her breath came in short gasps as she felt herself coming. Then suddenly, she stiffened.

What was that? She listened, and there was a ping on the doorbell. She glanced at the wall clock. It was almost midnight now. Who could it be? She wondered, frowning. None of her friends would dare visit her at this odd hour. She waited. Perhaps, whoever it was would realize this was the wrong house and go away. But the doorbell rang again. At that moment, she knew whoever it was, knew she was home. Muttering to herself, she took her fingers from her wet panties, rose to her feet, and walked down the passage to the front door. She slid off the door latch and opened the door.

A tall and powerfully built man stood in the doorway. He was clad in frightening black clothes. On his face was a black ski mask. In his hand was a 9 mm Luger, fitted with a silencer. Jessica's face turned white as clay as she stared at the man. He grinned viciously. Then he raised the gun and aimed it at her face.

“You dirty bitch!” he said in a cold, savage voice. “This is for you!” And he squeezed the trigger.

The slug smashed into her skull, and the force of the blow flung her backwards. She fell on her side and rolled over on her back, her skirt coming up over her thighs.

For a brief moment, the man remained motionless, a wisp of smoke drifting from his silencer as he stared at the blood that was forming a red halo around her head. He knew she was dead. No one could get shot in the head like that and not be dead.

He drew in a long, slow breath, holstered the gun, and walk into the night, the darkness pressing on him. He did not look back.

***

Kevin Carter looked up from the paperwork he was working on as his secretary, Maya Roxy, came into his office. Roxy was around twenty-six years old, tall, dark, with a good shape accentuated by heavy full breasts that always strained against her well-ironed shirt. Her solid hips and heavy buttocks could drive any man insane, and she was one hundred percent efficient. She had been Kevin's secretary for more than three years now, and during those years, he had considered her one of the valuable gifts life had bestowed unto him.

“Look! Roxy, don't tell me all that is for me?” He said with a deep frown on his handsome face. “I won't touch it!"

“You’re going to touch it, sugar," she said to him as she walked over to the table, a sheaf of papers in her hands. She rested her hips against the desk, placed the paper on it, and regarded Kevin's face.

“I’m so sorry, Kev, but the mail just kept coming in today."

Kevin eyed the thick pile of papers distastefully. He was tired, and the one thing he wanted to do was crawl into his car and go home. For a long moment, he stared at the papers, and then he shrugged his powerful shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it. I'll handle it."

Roxy, who had been patiently waiting for him, nodded and lifted a well-shaped brow at him.

“Do you care for a cup of coffee?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Not at all!” Kevin answered promptly. “What I really need now is to get these damn papers over with."

Roxy stood, watching him as she battled with the feelings inside her, then she said all right, and swinging her heavy buttocks deliberately at him, she left the office.

Kevin watched her go, a leery look on his face. He loved beautiful women, and he had made a point to employ the beautiful ones. He knew Roxy was in love with him, but he knew if he got entangled with her, she might become love-struck and lose her efficiency, which would be disastrous because Kevin was undeniably lazy. He had come to rely strongly on her efficiency.

At the age of thirty-six years, Kevin Carter was considered one of the most handsome and eligible bachelors in Miami City. He was big and powerful. Long hours in the summer sun had burned his body to a golden bronze. His compact, heavily featured face, deeply dimpled chin, strong hard mouth, and steady icy blue eyes made him extraordinarily handsome.

He was one of the youngest billionaires in Miami. His source of wealth had come from his parents, who had left him a more than comfortable sum of money plus a vast company (Carter Steel & Metals) before their death. Since then, he had been managing the company and because he was active and very ambitious. At that time, he was able to add more to his ample wealth and made the company one of the fast-growing, rich companies in all of Florida.

But Kevin had a weakness. He had the hots for beautiful women, and he loved sex. When it came to women, he was lost. The sight of anything in skirts or tight-fitting jeans rushed blood into his head and left him breathless. To him, women and sex were the most natural things; they were something to enjoy, not to worry about, or fuss about. Something to have when it comes and to wait for when it wasn't there. He knew he should be worried about his utterly uninhibited need for sex, but nothing worried Kevin. His philosophy was that something must kill a man, and for him, if that thing was a figure in a tight skirt, tight jeans, or skimpy bikini, then he was ready to lay down his life.

He had a golden rule. He never wasted his time with a woman before moving to another one. For him, women were like toys that were meant to be toyed with for some few weeks, and then quickly disposed of.

He had had so many women in his life that he sometimes forgot about some of these women easily. He had made it a rule never to let the thought of one particular woman hold him down or bother him. He was used to them fawning over him, and for this reason, the thought of ever pining over a particular woman always angered him. He was sick of women who gave themselves to him only to involve him, to shackle him, to trick him into anything he was not ready to dabble into.

It took him almost an hour to work through the pile of papers on his desk. By then, he was totally drained, and his mouth felt dry. He heaved heavily like a man who had just run a long metre race and leaned back in his armchair. He took out a white handkerchief from his suit pocket and wiped the sweat that had beaded on his forehead.

He reached for a pack of Marlboro cigarettes on his desk, lit one, and inhaled the smoke deeply. Then he let out the smoke slowly from his mouth. He checked his watch and grimaced. The time was past seven; how time flies, he thought irritably.

He got up from his chair and took his jacket off the peg. He struggled into his jacket, and then he picked up his suitcase, moved towards his office door and opened it. He left his office and found Roxy, clicking away on her Apple laptop. She looked up as he came into her office, her dark eyes taking in the tired, haughty look on his face.

“I’m done for today, Roxy! You can clean up after I'm gone. Don't expect me tomorrow. I ain't coming."

A worried look flashed on Roxy's face.

“But Kevin, you have an important meeting with Mr. Williamson. He wants to meet you concerning the steel we're going to supply him for Miami's bridge project."

“Hold him off!” Kevin snarled. “I can't kill myself. We'll do the meeting another time."

“We’ve been holding him off for weeks now. If we continue to stall this meeting, he might go to another competitor."

Kevin's body boiled with anger. He wanted to tell her to hell with Mr. Williamson, but he knew she was telling the truth. Williamson was one of their most profitable customers and they could not afford to lose him.

He brooded for a moment. He remembered he was meeting two of his best female friends in one of the most expensive restaurants in South Beach the following day. They had promised to hook him up with one of their attractive friends. Kevin could not miss that kind of opportunity.

“I’ll see what I can do," he said, not trusting his voice. “But if you don't see me tomorrow, I think you should handle the meeting. You can handle it, can't you?"

“I…I…” Roxy stammered.

“Yes, you can,” Kevin said, and he moved towards her and planted a kiss on her glossy red lips. He felt her shiver, and he smiled knowingly. Then he moved away from her.

“Bye, Roxy! Think of me tonight, sweetie.” And he walked out of the office, leaving her staring hard at his broad back, a shocked expression on her beautiful face.

Kevin moved through the company's vast garage until he got to his big glittering Rolls Royce. He opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. He thumbed the starter and deftly manoeuvred the car out of the garage. A few minutes later, he was on the hot, busy highway, and he drove fast towards Key Biscayne Drive, where he had a four-bedroom penthouse.

He arrived and drove into the underground garage which held a glittering Bentley, Ferrari, Aston Martin, and a big Cadillac. He stepped out of the car, and a few seconds later, he walked into an expensive lounge, expensively furnished with a terrace overlooking the bay. Down one side of the room, protected by a glass screen, orchids of every colour and description grew in long colourful ropes. The decor of the room was done in white and black.

He tossed his suitcase on a settee and moved towards the cocktail bar. He loosened his tie, and then he lifted a bottle of Campari from the wine shelf and placed it on the well-polished countertop. He took off the bottle's lid and poured a stiff shot into the glass cup, and then he added lime juice and tossed the liquid down his throat. He closed his eyes as the drink washed over him and loosened his nerves. He filled the glass again, and drank again, rolling the liquid in his mouth before swallowing it.

After the drink, he felt much better, and he could think clearly. He went into the bedroom, took off his tie, struggled out of his clothes, and went into the bathroom. He showered, came out of the bathroom, dried himself thoroughly and donned a red and gold patterned dressing gown. He went into the kitchen and heated up some cold chicken, steak, and black coffee. He finished his food and washed it down with the coffee. Then he washed the cup and saucer, and he went into the living room He sat down on a lounge chair, took out his phone and began to glance through the contact lists. It was then he saw the name Jessica and he bolted upright. The name sent a watt of electricity down his spine. He stared at the name for a long moment, not believing his eyes. For Christ sakes, he said aloud, how could I have forgotten Jessica for a whole day? What kind of man am I, he thought angrily? He quickly dialled the number and waited. The operator told him the number was switched off.

He cursed himself and dialled her number again. The operator repeated the same info to him. Vexed, he flung the phone on the chair and stood up from the settee, his mind busy with thoughts. Switched off, he thought. This was a baffler! He had always called Jessica every night after coming back from the office, and never once had her cell phone been switched off. But the previous night, he had failed to do just that, and that was because he had been dead after coming back from the office. Regretfully, this night would have been like the previous night if he had not checked his contacts.

Some weeks ago, he had met her in one of the expensive night clubs in Miami Beach. They had hooked up, and since then, they had been seeing a lot of each other. She was extremely beautiful, he had to give her that, but she struck him as odd. During the time they had been going around together, she had shocked him by telling him she wanted him to marry her.

At first, he had thought she was crazy, and all this was a joke, then he started to discover things about her, things that made him wary of her. He felt she wanted more than just sex from him.

She had told him blatantly she would marry him at the drop of a hat. He had the looks, money, and affluence. All the things that made up a complete man. So why should they not get married and have kids?

It was then he had the feeling she was really crazy about the idea of settling down, and ever since then, he had been looking for ways to give her the brush off.

His mind went back to the lie he had told her about taking her to meet his family, and a smile tugged at his lips despite himself. She had it coming, he told himself. It was always fun cooking up lies for any woman he dated and watching them swallow it hook, line, and sinker. He always got a big bang out of it.

He eyed his cell phone for a long moment and picked it up. Then he redialled her number. The operator repeated the same thing. He moved towards his telephone, picked up the receiver, and dialled her telephone number. It rang for some time, but there was no answer.

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. To hell with her, he thought bitterly. He could always get another chick if this one was indisposed. And because he had a trained mind, he turned his mind away from Jessica to the girls he was meeting the next day. Before sleeping that night, he had totally wiped out the thought of her from his mind.

He couldn’t know that Jessica Hill had been lying dead in her apartment for more than twenty-four hours now, her face smothered in blood.

***

“You know what? For now, I am not interested in any man,” Ella said, looking into the eyes of her two friends.

They were sitting in one of the expensive restaurants in South Beach. Ella was a blonde girl. She was beautiful, with big marvellous eyes and a body that could only be the exact model of the perfect woman: heavy breasted, slim waist, solid hips, and long tapering legs. Her two friends were not bad looking. Rose was tall with an oval face, big grey eyes, and a perfect mouth that any man would love to kiss. Jane had an elfin face. She was of medium height, with crystal blue eyes, a pert nose, ample bosom, and straight legs.

The three friends had met in a club in Miami Beach. They had quickly become aware of their outrageous beauty and had taken a liking to one another. Ella was an air hostess, Jane modelled for Victoria’s Secrets, while Rose was a professional hairstylist in Lincoln Road's big salons. Money was not one of their problems.

The only difference between Ella and her friends was that she did not have a boyfriend and was not ready to settle down with any man. Rose and Jane had tried every possible option to hook her up with some men, but Ella was not interested. She had met plenty of different men—the eligible bachelors, the playboys, rich old men who stink of wealth, good looking gigolos—but none of these men stirred anything in her. To her, these men were just like the normal people who walked the busy streets of Miami.

“I don't believe you,” Rose continued, narrowing her eyes at Ella.

“But why don't you believe me?” Ella said, looking surprised. Her lovely eyes almost bulged out from their sockets.

“The answer is simple,” Jane said. “You’ve not met the right man. If you meet him, you won't say you are not interested in any man. Women all over the world are falling in love every day, and you are saying you are not interested. You must be kidding."

Rose inclined her head to show her support for Jane's words.

Ella laughed.

“That is very wrong for you to say, Jane. I've met all the guys in the whole of Miami, and for me, that's enough. Tell me, who is there to meet again?"

Rose looked sharply at Ella.

“Surely, you're not a lesbian, right?”

Ella laughed again, her big eyes sparkling with amusement.

“What if I am?” she asked. “Would that be a bad thing?

Rose shook her head.

“It’s not a bad thing,” she said. “But look at you, girl, with this beautiful body. You’re wasting it by not being with a man!”

Ella shrugged her shoulders, but she did not say anything.

Jane looked at Rose and winked.

“Have you heard of the name Kevin Carter?” Jane asked, facing Ella.

“Who the heck is Kevin Carter?” Ella asked, rolling her eyes mockingly.

“Kevin is a hunk who could melt you like butter, baby. Most girls in Miami have the hots for him,” Rose said.

“You mean most stupid girls have the hots for him, right? Ella asked. “If that's the case, then I believe such a man should be avoided."

Jane lifted a well-shaped eyebrow at her.

“Once you get involved with Kevin, you won't wish to stop. Believe me, Ella. I know what I'm saying. That man is dynamite!"

Ella studied her friends and she saw they were serious. There was something about the look on their faces that told her they were hiding something from her.

“Is there something you guys are not telling me?” she asked, her voice loaded with suspicion.

“Well, if you must know,” Jane replied, a jeering light in her eyes, “We've known Kevin for quite sometimes now. In fact, he wants to meet you. We told him about you, and he says he would really like to see you."

“What?” Ella said, looking dumbfounded. “Is that why you both forced me into this restaurant to come and see a guy you both are stupidly melting over."

“Why are you tripping, girl?” Jane retorted, spreading her hands, “We brought you here because we are your friends, and we thought you would be interested in meeting a new guy since it has been a long time since we've seen you with any man."

Ella looked at her friends with astonishment. How could they do this to her, she thought, setting her up with a man whose existence was unknown to her?

“I don't believe this,” Ella said harshly, and she pointed a well-manicured finger at her friends. “You guys are my friends, and I expect you to know better. I hate blind dates! They don’t work for me! Please, just mind your business and leave me alone."

Unable to control her rising anger, Jane stood up from her chair and faced Ella.

“Ella! You are taking this too far. We just want you to meet our friend, that's all. Rose was even the one who suggested we should bring you along today. Kevin is a nice guy, and I am sure you will love him. As a matter of fact, all girls love him.”

Ella sniggered.

‘You know what?” she said, looking angrily into the eyes of her friends. “I think I have had enough for today. You guys can clear the check. I'm going home." She picked up her Chanel handbag and moved away from the table, her friends staring at her with puzzled expressions on their faces.

She was about to reach the entrance when she remembered she had forgotten to pick up her car keys. She stopped abruptly, turned, and walked back to the dinner table, then she stiffened when she saw a man talking to her friends. Who was this man, she asked herself as she walked back to the table? The man raised his head, and Ella was confronted with a face that was so uniquely perfect.

The man was tall and powerfully built, and he was very handsome with thick black hair and stormy blue eyes. There was a lazy smile around his mouth as he looked at her quizzically. He really made an impact on her.

He wore a well-cut dark blue jacket suit with brown loafers. The suit clung perfectly to his figure. As she walked back to the table, she felt a rush of blood through her, and she cursed herself for feeling this way. She raised her head high as she reached the table.

"Hello!” he said to her. “I'm Kevin Carter. What's your name?”

She stared at him for a moment.

"My name is Ella. Ella Brown," she said and swallowed hard. Her heart was jumping about like a freshly landed trout, and she could not think straight.

“Ella! Such a beautiful name," he said, testing the name on his lips. “Well, nice to meet you, Ella, but if I may ask, why did you walk away angrily like that?” He was staring hard at her.

Ella wanted to talk, but she felt her throat thicken. She felt so naked under his gaze. She looked at her friends and saw them staring hard at her. Fools, she thought. No wonder they were so smitten by this handsome hunk. There was something about this man that stirred something in her. Something she could not fathom. She dragged her eyes to his face and saw him looking at her expectantly. She coughed a little to clear her throat.

“I did not walk away angrily. I'm only trying to make a point, that's all,” she said breathlessly. The room felt hot, and she asked herself whether this man was causing the heat or if the air conditioner in the restaurant had suddenly stopped working.

“Ella!” he said in a husky voice. “I was sitting right behind you. I saw the whole thing. You should know Jane and Rose mean well for you. I've known them for a while now, and I must say they are good folks. They told me all about you. I've been dying to talk to you."

Ella turned to look at her friends. Jane averted her eyes while Rose focused her gaze on two couples who were chatting happily.

“Don’t be angry, Ella,” Kevin said, noticing the dark look that had settled on her face.

“I’m not angry," she gritted out. “I just don't like people digging behind my back. I love my privacy."

“Privacy it is,” he said, a triumphant look settling on his face. “You know what, Ella? I would love for us to talk more, but I've got to be somewhere right now. Can I get your digits?” he said, dipping his hands into his pockets to bring out his cell phone.

Ella hesitated. All this was happening too fast for her. This was the first time she could not think straight, especially with a man. Inwardly, she knew if she gave her cell phone number to him, something would definitely happen between them. No man in her young, wild life had ever made her feel this way. She wanted him so badly.

Without thinking, she began to tell him her cell phone number. When she was through, he looked up from his cell phone and gave her a smashing smile.

“I’ll give you a call, Ella." And he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. Ella was shocked. She wanted to free herself from his arms, but her brain refused to function. Damn! His body felt so good. His arms around her were so warm and soft, and yet every inch of him was hard. The combination was devastating to her senses.

He pulled away from her.

“Expect my call, sweetie," Kevin said, and he gave Jane and Rose a brief, quick hug. Ella looked on, not wanting him to leave, wanting the little moment she had shared with him to last a little longer. He gave her a last sensual smile and swaggered out of the restaurant.

Ella watched him go and said aloud, “My God! Is he for real?"

Her friends had heard what she said, and in response, they began to giggle.

***

Two days later, Kevin and Ella were dining in one of the expensive restaurants in Downtown Miami. On the table was a bowl of crab soup with duck breast dipped in rice and soya sauce. There was a bottle of Martini in a silver bucket filled with ice cubes.

“Are you okay?” Kevin said, forking a piece of meat into his mouth.

“Yeah! I'm good,” Ella replied absentmindedly. She was not really concentrating on the food in front of her, and the reason was not far-fetched.

During the day, Kevin had called her, telling her he would like them to dine together in one of the exclusive restaurants in Miami Beach. He then gave her the restaurant's address, explaining to her that she should go there at exactly seven p.m. and wait for him there.

She had demanded from him the reason for this, and he had told her there was a board meeting held in his office that day and the meeting might take long. If she waited for him at the restaurant, he would join her as soon as he was through. She had done just that, but when she saw him tonight with a calm, cold smile on his face, she had the feeling he was lying to her.

She realized that he was a man who had the knowledge that a woman, no matter her pride or self-worth, would always wait for him. With his incredible charms and looks, the world belonged to him. This thought sickened her, but like every other woman who had fallen for his looks and charms, she knew she had no choice but to go with it.

“I think you've got something on your mind,” he continued, levelling his gaze with her, and obviously enjoying the emotions passing through her face. He had to control the urge not to laugh in her face. She was totally hooked! He could see the longing on her face. This dumb chick was like the rest of the women in his life. If his good looks did not hook them, they would surely be hooked by his money or personality. This woman sitting across from him was hooked by his good looks.

She had told him she was an air hostess working for one of the top air taxi agencies in Miami, and he knew money would never be an issue. Undoubtedly, she was only attracted to him because of his looks and charms. He had found out everything he needed to know about her from her friends. She was a loner, and she had no man in her life. The one thought in his mind was to hit it off with her and leave her at the drop of a hat.

“I’ve got nothing on my mind," she replied stiffly. She looked at his face and saw the jeering light in his eyes. The bastard, she thought angrily; he knows I'm hooked. At that moment, she was so frustrated she wanted to throw the crab soup in his face, but she fought down the urge.

“You sure?” Kevin continued, raising his eyebrow quizzically.

“I’m sure,” she replied to him. She looked at him sitting across her and felt a stir inside of her. He was so handsome, so masculine, and so selfish, and yet she wanted him. Christ! I'm such a fool, she thought, I'm such a fool to involve myself with this man.

Kevin studied her face for a long moment. He knew she was battling with the rage of emotions inside her. She wanted him desperately, but like every other woman; she could not bring herself to tell him that. Let me help her out, he thought. Let's see if she will take the bait.

“Ella!” he said to her.

She looked up from the food she was staring at and saw him watching her, a sensual knowing look on his face.

“What is it, Kevin?” she asked in a soft voice.

“What would you like to do?”

The question made her flush. It was as if he had hit her where she wanted him to hit her. She had been asking herself that question from the first moment she had set her eyes on him this night. What would you like to do? Her mind repeated the question. Even without him asking, she already knew the answer. She drew in a long, slow breath, pulled herself together and looks at his face.

“Let’s go home and make love, Kevin,” she said finally.

When they reached his penthouse, he turned to her and said, “Would you like a drink? I have Moet and Hennessey."

Ella shook her head. She did not want a drink. She did not want to sleep. She did not want anything except this man standing in front of her. Recognizing the longing feelings on her face, Kevin moved towards her, pulled her into his arms and kisser her hard. He tasted of warm whiskey and mints. Feelings like the amber of fire began to pass through Ella's body.

She felt weak and giddy as his warm tongue swept over hers, and she had to grasp his massive body for support. As they both kissed, their tongues twirling against each other, he grasped Ella's small frame and dipped his head deeply to take more of the sweetness from her mouth. She moaned into his mouth as her senses began to reel, making her feel very lightheaded and unstable.

Deftly, he gently unzipped the zipper of Ella's dress to reveal her black bra and panties. He dropped the dress on the ground and slid his hands under her bra, only to close around her breasts. Her breasts were high and soft, and Kevin kneaded his hands around the soft mounds. Ella began to moan passionately in his arms, her body writhing like that of a wounded snake. ‎

He removed his hands and bent his head to take a nipple into his mouth. His mouth was hot, and she began to feel herself drifting into an abyss of passion and desire. With his mouth on her breasts, he slides his hands down to the lower part of her body, between her thighs and found it to be extremely wet. He slides his hands under her panties and dipped one of his fingers into her soaked inner crevice. She gasped as his finger twirled inside of her, and she began to moan.

“Oh my God!” she moaned. “Don’t stop! Please don't stop,” she said, shivering violently in his arms. He continued this for a few moments, and seeing she could take it no longer, he lifted her up and carried her naked body to his bedroom. Kevin dropped her gently on the king-size bed and took his time taking off his clothing.

She watched as he took his clothes off, and she thought how magnificent he looked without his clothes on. He stood naked and proud in front of her roving eyes. His manhood was stiff, and she bit hard on the bottom of her lip and wet herself.

He lay beside her on the bed and continued to kiss her, and when she could no longer take it anymore, she grabbed his phallus and shoved it inside of her. He began to thrust inside of her, increasing his pace in a lucid motion. She grasped his buttocks, meeting his pace and allowing herself to be spurred on by his fast pace. It felt so good, she thought, so damn good.

Her face was filled with wild ecstasy, and her body began to jerk sensually. The feeling he was causing in her was unbearable, and her body began to shudder in a hot frenzy. She could feel herself coming, and she began to moan.

“Oh, God! Oh, my God!” She moaned loudly. “Kevin, don't stop, don't you dare stop.” Suddenly, her body began to jerk at sporadic pace, and all she could remember was his bellowing groan as he spurted his hot fluid inside of her.

After their lovemaking, he held her in his arms.

“How do you feel, sweetie?” he drawled in a lazy, husky voice.

Ella looked into his passionate dark eyes.

“I feel free, baby. You were massive! So, so massive."

Kevin nodded his head and dipped his head to take her lips in his mouth.

“So, what are we doing after this?” Ella asked after Kevin had lifted his head.

“After this, I take you to meet my family!” he lied easily. “I’m going to tell them I've found a woman who knows how to screw me. How do you like that?”

“A woman who knows how to screw you?” she asked, not comprehending him. “Is that really a good thing to tell one's family?”

“Relax, baby, relax,” he assured her, “for now, let's focus our minds on sweeter things.” And saying this, he thrust his hard penis into her and brought her body to another passionate crescendo.

For the past two hours, waiting patiently in a dark corner of the street, Razor, the man who murdered Jessica Hill, had fixed his eyes on a lighted window of Kevin's penthouse.

He leaned his broad shoulders against the brick wall with his hands thrust into his trouser pockets, a burning cigarette between his small yellow teeth, and a cold, deadly expression on his face. He studied the window for a long moment and consulted his cheap wristwatch. Just then, the light in the penthouse window suddenly went out and completed the darkness that engulfed the streets. He checked his watch again and nodded his head. They just can’t get enough of him, he thought angrily, that handsome oaf! He felt the rage of the thrill of the kill go through his body, sinking into his veins, bones, and blood, and he relished in it. After a while, he heaved heavily and relaxed. Then he began to hum soundlessly under his breath as he hunched his back and began to walk away into the hot, airless night.

***

The time was exactly 11:45 when a taxicab halted in front of Ella's apartment building.

“Here we are, miss,” the driver said, “Just like you said."

Ella nodded stiffly, opened the door, and stepped out of the cab. She walked to the driver side, dipped her hand into her Chanel bag and brought out a fat purse. She opened it. It was stuffed with cash. She peeled off a note and handed it to the driver. The driver said his thanks and sped away, leaving a trail of exhaust smoke behind him.

Feeling lonely and tired, Ella stood in front of her apartment building and felt a slight chill. The whole street was in darkness, except for the lights showing through the chinks in the curtains of the houses and the hard white light of the moon, which had managed to slither out behind a fluff of clouds.

She drew in a long, slow breath and grimaced. She moved towards the building, climbed up a flight of stairs, and stood in front of her apartment door. She dipped her hand inside her handbag and brought out her keys, and then she sank it into the lock. The door opened, and she went into the apartment and snapped the light on. Suddenly the room was flooded with a harsh bright light emanating from the hanging chandeliers. She looked around the room and nodded to her satisfaction. It was exactly the way she had left it—tidy and immaculate.

Tired, she tossed her handbag to one of the sofas and sashayed into the kitchen where a vast refrigerator stood. She flipped it open and brought out a pack of ice cubes. She went out of the kitchen and moved towards the cocktail cabinet in the living room. She took out a bottle of whisky and splashed two stiff shots into the glass. Then she added ice cubes, twiddled the glass in her hand and brought it to her lips. She shivered slightly as the drink went down her throat and exploded inside her stomach. Then she moved away from the cocktail cabinet and went into the bedroom. She peeled off her clothes and walked naked into the bathroom. She turned the bathtub tap on and stepped into the bathtub. She sighed as the cold jet water pierced her naked body. She cupped her breasts and allowed the water to soothe her aching nerves.

She rested her head on the bathtub edge, and her thoughts drifted to Kevin. After their explosive lovemaking the other night, he had taken her out, and they had spent quality time together at one of the beaches in South Beach, and they had gone back to his penthouse where he had made love to her again. Then this morning, he had driven her to her apartment and had come back in the early hours of the evening to take her out for a dinner date.

They had dined together in a quiet restaurant in Little Havana. While they were eating, she watched him when he was unaware and noticed that his eyes were on some of the restaurant's women. He had done it so covertly, and yet she had seen the hungry look in his eyes. That was when she knew she had fallen for a man whose existence depended on women. The thought had angered her, and that moment she had made up her mind never to see him again. He had seen her watching him the way you watch a dog that stands in one's path and snarl at you.

He knew she had caught him in the act. When the meal was over, he had told her he wouldn't be able to take her home because he had an important appointment to keep that night and he was running late. His tone had been bored, flat and cold, and his eyes had been hostile. Inwardly, she knew he was giving her the brush off. To him, she had suddenly become a nuisance. Now that he had gotten what he wanted from her, she knew it wouldn't take long before he got tired of her or even got rid of her. Well, I asked for it, she told herself; after all, she had seen the signs. She was just dumb enough not to read them.

A noise from outside the bathroom startled Ella out of her thoughts, and she stiffened. What was that? She wondered. She listened, and after a few minutes of hearing nothing out of the ordinary, she assured herself that her ears had been playing tricks on her. She rested her head on the bathtub and closed her eyes.

Razor watched the woman in the bathtub stretch out her white, longs legs, and he snarled, baring his teeth. The sight of her in the bathtub did not even arouse any feeling in him.

He had tailed her home after she had left Kevin. Then he had watched her enter the apartment, and having waited patiently for good twenty minutes, he had managed to climb up to the roof of the apartment building. Since her apartment was on the top of the last floor, it had been easy for him to slink in through the maintenance hole and enter her apartment. Now, as he watched her, lying leisurely in the bathtub, a menacing expression clouded his face.

He watched her for some time like a hyena watching his prey, and when he was satisfied that his presence was unknown to her, he looked around the bathroom until his eyes rested on an electric hairdryer. He smiled wickedly as a sudden idea occurred to him.

He moved towards the electric dryer, which was hung on a wall rack, and lifted it. Slowly and carefully, he plugged the electric dryer's cable into a socket outlet and moved purposely towards the body in the bathtub. Standing in front of her, he grinned viciously.

Ella must have heard movements because her eyes, which had been closed, suddenly flickered opened. Then she saw him. He looked exactly like a dangerous ape, and he was standing above her. She was so shocked she could only stare. She wanted to scream, but her throat was paralysed. The amber-coloured eyes of the strange man staring at her had stiffened her nerves.

“You should have stayed the fuck away from him!” he snarled, and he dropped the dryer into the bathtub. There was a bright explosion coupled with sparking sounds, and he began to laugh a hard barking laugh. Ella's body was already twitching and shuddering violently to the throes of death.

***

The time was past eight. Kevin Carter neatly parked his gleaming Aston Martin in a vacant parking bay outside police headquarters, cut the engine, and slid out into the early morning sunshine. He wore a tailored suit that looked impeccable on his perfect figure, and he had the air of affluence and supreme confidence that only the background of extreme wealth could give a man. He walked up the steps and into the Charge room where the desk sergeant, Ambrose Lee, was coping with a mass of drunk-in-charge reports. On sighting Kevin, Lee dropped the reports and jumped to his feet.

“Morning, Mr. Carter, something I can do for you?”

Kevin always received V.I.P. treatment from the police. The officers were all aware of his generosity and contribution to the Miami Police force and were always eager to please him.

“Detective Tomayo in?” he asked.

“Sure, Mr. Carter, you can go right up,” Lee said eagerly.

Kevin grunted, dipped his hand into his pocket, and brought out his wallet, which was stuffed with freshly minted bills. He took out a $20 bill and slid it across the Sergeant's desk. Lee snatched up the bill the way a lizard snatched a fly into his mouth. His eyes grew round, and he beamed at Kevin.

“Mighty kind of you, Mr. Carter. Much obliged”

He nodded and walked over the stairway that led to Detective Tomayo's office. He tapped on Tomayo's door then pushed it open and walked into the sparsely furnished room.

Detective Lieutenant Tomayo Daniels, a fifty-five-year-old, massively built man with wavy blonde hair and an aggressive jutting jaw was staring at some reports on his table. He stiffened as Kevin walked into the room. He got to his feet and held out his hand for a handshake.

“Hello, Mr. Carter, how nice to see," he said, smiling at Kevin's face. The two men shook hands, and he waved Kevin to the client's chair.

Kevin lowered himself into the chair.

“Detective, you sent for me. Your boys came to my house this morning telling me you wanted to discuss something with me down here at the station," he said, relaxing himself comfortably in the leather chair he was sitting on.

Tomayo nodded.

“I won't keep you waiting, Mr. Carter, but the issue needs your utmost attention."

Kevin narrowed his eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Carter," Tomayo continued. “I wouldn't have sent for you if not for the fact that we have two murder cases sitting hot on our laps right now. We think you might be able to help us solve them."

“What cases?” Kevin said impatiently. “Detective, I don't have time for this crap. If you have anything against me, you better spit it out. All I know is that I'm a law-abiding citizen of this city, and I've never been guilty of any crime."

Tomayo was cautious now. He knew Kevin drew a lot of water in Miami, and he was a man who had to be handled with extreme care. He grinned sheepishly.

“Please take it easy. I think you would like to see this," he said, and he opened a drawer in his desk and brought out a medium-sized envelope. He tossed the envelope on the desk, and it landed with a loud splat. Then he pushed the envelope towards Kevin and folded his powerful arms across his massive chest. “Please have a look."

Kevin gave Tomayo a hard look and snatched up the envelope. He flicked it open and poured the contents onto the desk. Glossy photographs spilled onto the table. His eyes ran over the photographs, and he felt cold sweat break out on his body. The photographs contained grotesque images of dead women from the different crime scenes. His mouth felt as dry as he studied the pictures. He looked up to see Tomayo's eyes watching him intently.

“What is this?” he asked innocently. “I don't understand. What has this got to do with me?"

Tomayo leaned forward in his chair so that his face was very close to Kevin.

“Look," he said in a soft voice. “I think we got ourselves a killer, and you, Mr. Carter, will help us find this killer.”

Kevin felt as if he had received a sucker punch in his belly. Nothing would have prepared him for what the detective had just told him.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked. His heart was hammering wildly against his chest, and his hands were unsteady.

“It seems you don't understand what is at stake here ", Tomayo continued, noticing the frightened look on his face. “Those dead women you see in those photographs are known to you."

“You bluff!” Kevin snapped. He got to his feet and pointed a thick, manicured finger at Tomayo “Detective, you are a damn funny man. To me, this seems as if I'm auditioning for a comedy movie you are planning to produce. The only problem is that I don't wish to be in your film. For Christ sakes, what am I even doing in this place? "

Tomayo grimaced. This was not the way he had anticipated things. If the situation is not carefully curtailed, he might be out of a job in a few days. All this man had to do was put a call to his superiors, and he would be kicked out like a ghetto rat.

“Mr. Carter," Tomayo said in a quiet low voice, “I don't think you understand all this. Are you to tell me you don't recognize the faces of any of these dead women in these photographs? "

Kevin grinned mirthlessly.

“I don't, alright! Can I take my leave now? “He asked, already getting out of his chair and moving towards the door.

“Alright," Tomayo said tartly. “If that's what you want. I can't hold you. But please answer me; do you know a woman by the name of Jessica Hill? "

The name hit Kevin like a sledgehammer, and he froze in his strides. He peered back over his shoulders.

“How the hell do you know Jessica?” he demanded hotly.

“You heard me right ", Tomayo continued, seeing that a look of recognition had registered on Kevin's face “What of Ella Brown? Are you to tell me you don't know her too? "

In one swift motion, Kevin walked back to the desk

“What’s my private life got to with you, detective?” He said in a harsh voice. “How the hell do you know the women I'm going out with?”

“Mr. Carter “Tomayo raised his hands in exasperation.” It's not your private life I am concerned with. It's theirs,” he said, pointing his hands to the glossy photographs on the desk.

Kevin studied the detective's face for a moment then a sudden realization hit. It hit him so much that he felt cold; as if a Siberian wind had blown on him. He picked up the photographs and studied them carefully. That was when he recognized the dead faces.

“Detective!” he said in a low, shaky voice. “What in God's name are you talking about?”

Tomayo drew in a long, shuddering breath.

“Jessica Hill and Ella Brown are both dead. These are photographs taking from their crime scenes. Jessica had been dead for two days now. Her autopsy report showed she died from a bullet wound fired from 9mm Luger. She was shot in the head. Ella was murdered last night. She was found stiff and badly burnt in her bathtub. She was electrocuted by a hairdryer supposedly tossed into the bathtub. We figured the killer did that. We found some ID in their rooms; that's how we were able to identify them. We recovered their cell phones and went through the call logs. We saw some numbers, but the funniest thing is that your cell phone number stood out. It seems you're the only man these two dead women had been talking with. You've been calling these two women, especially Jessica Hill.” He paused and went on.

“Jessica does not have any friends, family or relations here in Miami. We found just only one number on her phone, and it belonged to you. From the look of things, you're the only one she talks with. Ella had just ten numbers on her phones. We found your number; two were her best friends, some belonged to her colleagues in the airline agency, and the rest were her long-distance families. The problem here is that two women, who by no chance are related to each other are dead, have your number on their cell phones. That's something we cannot even ignore. So, you see, Mr. Carter, everything narrows back to you."

Kevin legs suddenly felt boneless, and he dropped into a chair. His face was wet with sweat, and his hands were shaking. He fumbled inside his pockets for a pack of cigarette. With unsteady hands, he lit it and drew in smoke. Jessica! Ella! The names rang like a bell in his head. How could they be dead? Had he not taken Ella out just last night? How could she have wound up dead? Indeed, this detective must have gotten the whole thing mixed up.

"Are you alright?” Tomayo asked, watching Kevin's face curiously.

Kevin jolted back to reality and looked at Tomayo, who was looking at him with keen interests.

“Shit!” Kevin said his voice suddenly hoarse. He clenched his fist and slammed it into his open palm.

Tomayo regarded him for a long moment. Inwardly, he knew the names of the women he had mentioned had hit home. The deflated look on Kevin's face had told him everything he needed to know. Kevin noticed that the detective was watching him closely, and a dark scowl settled on his face.

“What do you want me to say?” he said, giving Tomayo a cold look.

Tomayo drew in a sharp breath.

“What I want from you is to tell me everything you know about these dead women, Mr. Carter. I repeat everything."

Kevin dipped his hand into his pockets and brought out a handkerchief. He wiped the sweat on his face and stubbed out his cigarette.

“I met Jessica at a nightclub. We've been together for some time now. Sorry, but I can't really remember for how long. We've been seeing a lot of each other. The last time I saw her was the day I promise to take her to meet my families though that was a lie on my part. The next day I nearly forgot to call her. And when I even did call her, there was no answer at all. "

“And you did not find this strange?” Tomayo asked.

Kevin nodded “Yeah! It was really strange to me. I've never known her cell phone or telephone to be totally dead. I guess it was because of how I really feel about her. That's why I didn't find out what was wrong. Sorry to say detective, I don't really like, Jessica. For me, everything between us was the sex. For her, it was marriage, and I'm not the marriage stuff kind of guy."

Tomayo heaved heavily.

“What about Ella brown?”

“Some girls I used to know in a club hooked me up with Ella. We went out together last night. But I did not take her home. I guess she took a cab home. Please, don’t ask me why I did not take her home myself, because the reason was simple even for a woman like Ella to know. I dumped her ass yesterday unofficially. I was planning to call her today and tell her about it. Ella is only interested in me for my looks. I get easily tired of women that do that."

Tomayo regarded him for a long moment.

“Jessica lives in an apartment in Millionaire rows. That apartment cost a whale of money. Unlike Ella, an air hostess, Jessica does nothing for a living, yet everything we found in the apartment must have cost a lot. I wonder how she could have got all those things. "

Kevin sniggered “Don’t stress your brain, detective. I got her the apartment, paid for it, and I got her the entire thing she had. She was very broke when I met her. So, I took care of her rent, bills, bought her clothes and stuff, and in return, she treated me well in bed."

Tomayo heaved heavily.

“Well," he said. “Everything you've said confirms what we've gathered here so far. You've got a strong, tight alibi for the two murder cases. On the night and in the time both women had died, you were in your home. That was the first thing we checked out. Anyway, it was Miss Hill's maid, who had come to clean the house, who discovered her body. She called us. Somebody tipped us about us, Miss Brown. We are bound to believe it was the killer. We tried to trace the call, but he cut us off before we could locate him. From the look of things, it seems this killer wants to start a game."

“A game?” Kevin said, puzzled “what kind of game?”

"It's a sick game, alright. A game of serial killing. We believe he's a serial killer, but we are not really sure yet."

Kevin arches an eyebrow.

“What’s this serial killing of a thing?”

Tomayo nodded his head.

"It's one of the worst forms of homicide crimes. It’s mostly caused by the oldest motive for murder in history which is revenge. Sometimes it's caused by an urge of releasing a kind of negative energy bottled up inside a person's mind. In serial killing, there's always a target or targets. Serial killers are always dangerous and violent. They are always out of control, and they can go on killing forever until they achieved their aim. A serial killer can kill scores of people in as much as it gives him satisfaction and conforms to certain codes he had set in his head. In your case, the women in your life seem to be the target."

Kevin drew in a sharp breath.

“And you really sure it's a serial killer?”

“Like I said, we're not really sure," Tomayo said gravely. “But since we don't really know who he is, then it's safe to assume he's one. He has killed two people who had got involved with you, and from the looks of things, he's going to kill more. I believe this killer is after the women in your life, and he's killing them to get at you. He knows your movements. So, you've got to keep watch and let your eyes stay open."

Kevin narrowed his eyes at Tomayo.

“If I'm to let my eyes stay open, what would you guys be doing? Or you're going to keep watch until this guy fixes me?"

Tomayo shook his head.

“I know their type. He's not interested in fixing you, at least not for now. I believe he wants to cause an emotional breakdown for you. That's why he kills those who are close to you. He seems to know you can't stay off women, and to him, that's your dead end."

Kevin regarded Tomayo's face for a long moment. His mind was like a whirlpool, and he could not assimilate what the detective had just told him. He brooded for a moment and rose to his feet.

“Look, I think I better clear myself out of here. I've got some serious work to attend to, and I still have to get my head wrap around these things you've told me."

Tomayo stared at him and nodded.

“Very well, Mr. Carter, I won't keep you waiting. Don't worry; from now on, my men will be on the lookout. Your house will be watched by two of my best men 24/7. But be very careful. You're a very handsome man, Mr. Carter, and women seem to be drawn to you like bees to honey. Stay off women for now. Because of your personality, we are keeping this confidential. We don't want to start a city-wide panic. If the press got a whiff on these recent killings, this could get a lot worse. "

Kevin drew in a long, slow breath and grimaced. He pulled himself together, shook hands with Tomayo and walked out of the office like a man who had been hit with concrete of block on his chest.

Tomayo watched him go and grimaced. He would have loved to detain him for some time, but he had a feeling Kevin Carter was innocent. Detaining him would have been just a waste of time.

What did matter to him was what would happen if the news leaked out that the two dead women were related to Kevin Carter. The thought of the publicity, the scandal, the horror of the newspapermen, the effect on Kevin Carter's personality, the fear that a psychotic serial killer is running loose in the city, the frightful newspaper headlines that would go on and on, made Tomayo stiffen with fear. I just hope for his own sakes; he stays off women, he thought as he stared at the ceilings, his eyes black and lost.

***

In a dilapidated, clapboard apartment building fenced by rotting wooden fences was Razor’s apartment. His proper name was Bill Razor Turner.

This night, he was standing by the window, looking down into the dirty streets. His eyes surveyed the passing people and the crawling cars. Seeing nothing suspicious, he sighed. He was wearing a black silk dressing gown that had the pattern of a golden Cobra's head at the back.

The dressing gown showed his bare, barrel of a chest, covered with coarse black hair. He looked like a well-fed violent animal with his long, rugged face, amber coloured eyes, broken, flattened nose, crush ears and ugly hard mouth. Between his thick gnarled finger was a cigar which was burning anxiously.

He stood for some time, and when he lost interest in the view, he moved away from the window and crossed the room to his cocktail cabinet, which was made of rickety, croaked wood. He brought down a bottle of Jack Daniels, jerked out the cork and took a long pull from the bottle.

He drank until the spirit burned his mouth and throat, then he rammed the cork back and returned the bottle back to his rightful place. He moved to one of his old shabby looking sofas and lowered himself in it. His face was expressionless as he began to think.

He had tailed Kevin to the police headquarters. He knew the police had got a whiff of his movements, and the hunt for him was on now. How he wished he had had the opportunity to understand what Kevin had gone to discuss with the detective.

It would have added to the excitement of these killing rackets. By now, he knew some of the police officers would be watching Kevin's movement. They would follow him like a fly following a corpse to his grave. He was not bothered. This will only add to the fun. Kevin has to pay for what he made me do, he thought, I'll make him pay.

He looked at the cheap wristwatch on his hand, and a wicked smile touched his lips. Kevin will be looking for another woman by now. He was sure of that. He had watched and studied Kevin for a long time now. He knew Kevin's characters and behaviours like the back of his hand.

He knew Kevin could not stay off women, and that gave him a lot of satisfaction. This night then, he was going to see the type of woman Kevin was going to hook, and if he was lucky enough, he might soon kill again. Probably this night, that's if luck was on his side.

***

Immediately, Kevin had left the Miami Police headquarters; he had gone to his office to check on Roxy. She had told him the deal with Williamson had fallen through. She had used her wiles on him, and Williamson, who had first declined to do a meeting without seeing Kevin, later agreed.

Kevin had then given her a few tasks to do, pecked her, patted her bottom, which made her squealed with excitement and ducked out of the office. When he got home, the full impact of what detective Tomayo had told hit him afresh, and he became sober.

He had stayed indoors, thinking hard, using a bottle of whisky to kill time. The thoughts of the dead women coupled with the idea that a killer was stalking him bothered him greatly, and he hit hard on the whisky bottles, drinking like a fish. In the evening, and seeing that he had been indoors all day, he dragged himself drunkenly from where he had sat, change clothes, slid into his Ferrari, and drove hard and fast to one of the murderously expensive nightclubs in Miami Beach to cool off.

It was one of those dim-lighted clubs which the millionaires and billionaires of Miami visited. Its main purpose was to cater for the needs of rich men and women with loaded pockets. Old rich men, lonely, rich widows, playboys, handsome gigolos, money loaded gays and lesbians, professional sex workers all visited this nightclub searching for one or two things and surprisingly, this nightclub catered for all their needs.

This night, Kevin sat on the sofa in the corner of the club, a cigar burning between his fingers, face deadpan, and cold.

He looked around the bar and grimaced. He could see the hard, professional faces of bosom girls, hanging around the club, waiting for an invitation for a drink or which rich men or women would require for their services. Some of the girls were looking hungrily at him. It gave him a great sense of satisfaction to see them fawning at him, and in other to spite them, he smiled smugly at them, dragged his eyes away and puffed hard on his cigar. He was feeling better now. Coming to the club had really paid off. It had lifted the weight of what the detective had told him from his chest.

Even though he knew he had to be careful, the thought of staying away from women bothered him. So selfish was he that the knowledge that two women had died because of him did not displease so much like the thought of him staying off women. To hell with that stupid detective, he thought angrily. No killer is going to frighten me. He didn't wrong anybody. So why should he be scared?

A little after midnight, just when he thought he had had enough for the night, there was a slight commotion at the entrance, and a girl with blonde hair came into the club. Kevin, like the rest of the men in the club, stared at her curiously. Kevin's loins quivered. This was the kind of girl you saw only in the Playboy magazines.

A girl who could resurrect a male corpse: a blonde girl gorgeously built with thick, wavy hair, large, violet eyes, and thick eyelashes. Her body made him feel as if his body had been sprayed with gasoline and light had been set to it. Her big breasts were straining hard against the front of her skimpy white shirt, and her jean shorts clung to her as if they had been painted on her. Her tanned thighs were sturdy, and it glistened in the low lights of the club. By now, Kevin was sweating violently.

He regarded her luscious body, and a stab of desire went through him. He became aware that all the men in the club were gaping at her, a lascivious look on their faces. This kind of girl could bring out primitive in any man. The girl stared around the room for a moment as if she did not know what to do. Then her eyes rested on a vacant seat next to Kevin, and she moved towards it with slow, purposeful strides. She slid into the sofa where Kevin was sitting and smiled at him. It was a hard smile, and he could see it took her a great effort to smile at him.

“Can I have a smoke?” her voice was husky, and there was a musical sound to it.

Kevin did not even waste any time. He fumbled inside his jacket pockets for his cigar case. He flipped it open and selected one of the well-blended Cuban cigars. He gave it to her. She took it from him, shoved it between her small white teeth and grinned a little as Kevin lit it for her.

“Having a nice time?” she asked as she pulled hard at the cigar, drawing in smoke.

“Nope!” He replied, staring at her. “Not until you came in.”

She arched an eyebrow and laughed. She had a rich, mellow laugh she had cultivated, knowing few men could resist it.

“Is it that bad?”

Kevin scoffed.

“Is it that bad?” he asked bewildered. “I mean, look around you; almost all the men are staring at you. It’s amazing, you know. Everything was cool before you came in, and you waltzed in, and all the men became starry-eyed and tongue-tied. You really must be something."

The girl shrugged indifferently.

“Many men will stare, but only one man will the girl go home with. The only thing is that there's a catch to it. "

“What catch?” Kevin asked, thinking what a good lay she would be.

“Come on, handsome, you don't expect her to just go home with that one man without thinking of herself?” she said as she stubbed out the cigar.

He regarded her, and he could feel his blood moving through his body like a man moving through an empty house. This girl is dynamite! He thought. I wish I can have her this night.

As if reading his thought, the girl said. “I’m Debbie. I know you want me, but seeing you are tongue-tied, I best move on now”

Kevin watched her got to her feet. Alarmed that he was about to lose her, he caught her wrist as she was about to move away.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sweat glistening on his face.

“I’m taking my leave, of course ", she snapped.

“Don’t go,” he said huskily. “I’m not usually like this, but you've really stunned me."

Debbie studied his sweating face for a moment and curved her lips into a hard smile.

“What’s your name, handsome?”

“I’m Kevin! Kevin Carter”

“The millionaire?” she asked a greedy glint in her eyes now.

“Yeah!” he answered eagerly, thinking he must be mighty popular for her to know him.

“You think you've got what it takes to handle a girl like me, Mr. Carter?” she said in a way that told him she knew what his answer would be.

He moistened his lips with his tongue.

“I’ve got the looks and a whole lot of money. I think I could handle you, alright."

“Forget the looks; that are for suckers. Now, you do mention a whale of money; I think we could work on that. If you want me, there's a price to pay," she said, still watching him.

He regarded her, at first not comprehending what she had said. Then her words sank into his head, and he smiled. So, she's a whore, he thought, I should have known. She had spelt it out for him, but he had not caught on quick. But now, he knows. A goddamn whore!

“I’ll pay the price," he said after hesitating for some moment. He ran his eyes over her body, letting her know he was ready to follow her even to the moon.

“Then why are we wasting time?” She said almost impatiently.

Kevin inclined his head. He called the waiter who had served him and cleared the checks. Then, he grabbed her arm, and amidst the jeers, catcalls and whistles, the men in the room shot their way. , he steered her out to his car and drove fast and hard towards his penthouse.

***

“Gee! This place whiffs of money," Debbie said, looking around the apartment; her eyes were regarding the most expensive objects. Kevin noticed the hungry look in her eyes, and he knew she had said the words as a matter of fact and not that she really appreciated the decor job. Her mind was on the money. He was sure of that.

“All this stuff must have cost a heap of dough, right?” she said, looking at him now.

“Well, it's all money could buy ", he said warily, watching her face and seeing the greediness there.

She tossed her bag to one of the sofas and lowered herself into it. Then she crossed one leg over the other and rested her eyes on his face.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” he asked, just for the sake of saying something.

She shook her head.

“I don't want anything. I thought you wanted us to hit it off. I thought you were itching to slam your shaft into me?” she said, with a glint in her eye.

Kevin looked flustered now, despite himself.

“You needn't sound so aggressive about it,” he said “Well, isn't that the reason why I'm here?” she retorted.

He regarded her the way you regard a dead cat in a gutter.

“Debbie, you've got to use your head. Did it ever occur to you that I could really have wanted you, even knowing that you were some kind of broke ass hooker?"

She arched an eyebrow. Then she laughed a bitter hard one.

“You’re funny, Mr. Carter. A broke ass hooker! Is that what you call it these days? Alright, now that you know I'm broke, what the hell are you going to do about it, fool?"

Kevin face twisted with anger.

“Nothing!” he said harshly. “Absolutely nothing!” He moved towards the cocktail cabinet and fixed himself a drink.

All this while, Debbie was watching him the way a cat watches a mouse. There was a cold, hard look on her face, and her glossy red lips were drawn tightly. Kevin moved away from the cabinet, ignoring her as he moved towards his bedroom entrance.

“Hey!” she sneered. “Where do you think you are going?”

Kevin turned on her sharply.

“Are you still here? I've lost my appetite for you. Get the hell out. I don't want to see you!"

He went into the bedroom and stripped off angrily. He walked into the bathroom, sick bile of anger spreading through his body. The way Debbie had made it sound that he was about to bed a whore had angered him, and he felt soiled and rotten. That he could stoop so low to bring a whore to his house amazed him.

She had made it sound so bad, as if he was the one rushing to get her laid. Well, she can go screw herself, he thought, I must be really crazy to have brought her up here.

He stood tall, thick, and massive under the cold spray of water, and when he was done, he grabbed his towel, dried himself, twirl it around his waist, went out of the bathroom, and walked into the inner room. Then he stopped short in his tracks, startled beyond words.

Debbie was standing in the middle of the room. She was breathing heavily, and there was a strange, insane look in her eyes. She was clutching her handbag, and he could see her knuckles were white and taut. He felt a cold chill run up his spine “What the hell is this? What are you doing in my room?"

“You can't get rid of me easily,” she said the words in a quiet voice, but he had felt the steeliness in it.

“Look! I made a mistake, alright. I did a stupid thing by bringing you here. I'm sorry about that. I wasn't thinking straight."

“But now that you are thinking straight, you don't want me anymore?”

Kevin felt the blood mounting up to his face.

“Get out of here! You want to make me puke! "

“I am not going anywhere!” She said curtly. “No man as ever refused my body. I repeat, no man! "

He was livid now. She had gone too far. As swift as a striking cobra, he moved towards her, grabbed her arms, and jerked her savagely.

“Don’t you understand?” he shouted into her face. “Get out! Scram! Whore!"

He was not prepared for what she did next. She jerked out of his hold, and in a swift motion, she swung the handbag and hit him violently across his face. The metal clasp of the bag cut him on his nose. Kevin started back, staring at her in angry astonishment, as he felt blood trickling down his face, then onto the white rug which covered the floor.

“You bastard!” She yelled. “You bloody fool! I'll fix your pretty face. You can't give me a brush-off and go away freely."

She swung the bag again. He caught her wrist and wrenched the bag from her hand. He threw it across the room and slapped her hard on her face.

“Get out!” He shouted, pointing towards the door. “Get out, or I'm going to break your jaw.”

She reacted as if she had been prodded with a hot iron; she flung herself on him and wrapped her legs tightly around his waists. Then she brought her lips hard on his mouth and thrust her tongue into his mouth. Her face became smeared with the blood from his face.

Something about what she did excite Kevin like never before. They remained like this for some time, straining against each other as they kissed, then he disengaged, peeled off her clothes and flung her on the bed savagely. He moved on top of her, loving the sight of her body.

“Quickly…quickly! Come into me!” she rasped, and she dug her nails into his flesh as he thrust his rock-hard maleness into her.

***

Bill Razor, in a dark corner of the streets, watched the penthouse with deep interest. Then he dragged his eyes to the streets, searching the whole area with thorough scrutiny. He spotted the figure of a man, standing in a pouch, the red tip of a cigarette pinpointing his face, half concealed under a pulled-down hat brim. He was not the only one.

He spotted another man, loitering around in a dark doorway, dressed in brown suits, his hat pulled down his dark face. Razor snarled. He was right. He knew the two men were keeping an eye on Kevin. From their looks, he knew these men were trained men, and their assignment was to monitor Kevin Carter's movement. The watch was on now.

He regarded the two men thoughtfully. Then he nodded to himself, and with the silence of a stalking tiger, he moved away from where he was and using the darkness of the nights and dark corners of the streets, he began to make his way towards the penthouse. He got to the fence and snarled, his lips coming off his yellow teeth.

He swung himself over the wall and walked silently and rapidly up the cinder path that led through the well-mowed garden then to the back of the penthouse. He moved towards one of the lighted windows and looked in. He saw Kevin and a woman kissing passionately on the bed, and he whistled to himself. He was right. Kevin had hooked another woman again. He watched as Kevin stood up from the bed, leaving the woman smiling at his broad back as he left the room. Hell, Razor nodded to himself. Everything was going on as planned. It was time to go to work.

Quietly, he moved away from the window side to another window side. He checked the leather skin cross bag slung across his massive chest. Inside were the items he needed; a thin silk gloves, a cordless roof saw and the long shiny chain in which the ninja blade was attached. He moved towards a window, and gathering momentum, he jumped on the window ledge. Swiftly like a ninja, he climbed up the edifice, using the window as his step foot.

When he got to the rooftop, he brought out the silk hand gloves so that when he put them on, they seemed to form a second skin on his hand. Then he brought out the cordless roof saw and looking around him furtively like a hungry owl, and he carefully trimmed open the roof of the building as noiselessly as possible. He then returned the saw to his bag and waited, his ear straining to catch any alarming sound. Satisfied, he grabbed the two edge of the open roof and jumped inside the building through the opening he had created.

He moved through the corridors of the house, knowing when to wait, retreat or move. It was as if the blueprints of the house were in his head, and he had no difficulty finding the door he was looking for. His gloved hand closed around the door handle. He waited for few minutes, and then he opened the door. He entered the bedroom and looked around, trying to see if he was in the right room. When he was sure, he grinned wickedly and listened.

There were movements and the running of the shower coming from a closed door. He crossed the room to the door and put his ear against the door. He heard the sighs and moan of a woman enjoying the spray of the shower tap, and he nodded. The woman was in the bathroom; he was sure of that.

He moved away from the door and stood stiff and motionless in the middle of the room. By now, he had brought out the flashing chain with its glittering blade, and he began to swing it gently. He knew Kevin was in the kitchen, and he knew he had to wait for the woman. He was a patient man. He snapped off the room light and waited in the darkness of the room. Then his ugly face lit up when he saw the bathroom door opened and the woman stepped out of the bathroom. ‎

***

At that moment, when Razor was about walking through the well-mowed garden, Kevin was looking at Debbie's, a satiated expression on his face.

“I’m famished ", she cooed, stroking his broad naked chest. Kevin grunted and flung her hands away.

“I’m hungry too," he said as he moved away from her, got to his feet, and twirled his thick towel around his waist. “I’ll fix something."

“Where do you think you are going?” she demanded, "We've still got four rounds to go!"

“No! We Don’t!” he answered, winking at her before moving out of the room.

Debbie stretched leisurely on the bed like an overfed cat. Feeling a bit tired, she got up from the bed and slid into the bathroom. She switched the shower tap on and stepped into the tepid water. She raised her face up, letting the water slap her gently on the front, and she cupped her breasts in her hand. When she was done, she turned off the shower and stepped out into the bedroom. Then she stiffened.

A black-clad figure was standing in the middle of the room. There was something so evil about this figure that for a few moments, she stood still like a statue, hearing only the beating of her heart, and fluttering of muscles in her legs. She wanted to scream, but the action seemed like an arduous task.

Razor watched the expression of stark terror on the face of the girl, and he snarled. He could even hear the rapid beating of her heart, and he could smell her fears. Swiftly, he moved towards her.

“I’m fixing you for life!” Razor said quietly, and a blade hooked to a long chain jumped into his hand as if by magic.

She gasped when she saw the glittering blade. Their eyes met. In that second of life that was left to her, she seemed able to read into his thoughts what he was about to do to her. Her mouth opened to scream. A vicious, frightening gleam came into her eyes, and her face, which was beautiful before, became white and taut, and she looked thirty years older. He shifted back, raised his hand, and slashed with the blade.

The blade sliced her throat, and something warm and wet sprayed his masked face. Her hand went to her throat, and blood began to slip through her fingers. She was making gurgling sounds now, sounds that an empty tap made when you turned it on. As she fell forward, she tried to cling to his chest, but he gave her a violent kick in the stomach. She fell on her side and roll over on her back and died in the pool of her blood.

***

Kevin was ecstatic as he walked to the bedroom. He had prepared bacon laced with jam, freshly squeezed orange juice and omelette, which was on a tray. “She’ll love this," he told himself. As he was about to reach the bedroom door, tray in hand, and his nose perceived something acrid. What is that smell, he asked himself? He entered the room. The room was in total darkness.

“Debbie! Debbie!" he called out, looking around the room, cold fear running up and down his spine. As he moved, something hard struck his leg, something human, and he stiffened. A body was on the floor.

Quickly, Kevin dropped the tray beside the body and groped around for the switch. He flicked the lights on and felt a pang of fear hit his chest. Debbie was on the floor, in a pool of blood, her face dead white. He moved towards the body, his movement dreamlike and knelt at her side. His eyes widen as he saw blood dripping rapidly from her throat, making a small pool around her head.

That moment, the sight of the blood really put the fear of God into him, and he suddenly felt more frightened than he had ever been before in his life. His heart was hammering wildly against his chest, and the muscles of his hands and thighs were fluttering. His mouth felt so dry and bitter.

He just knelt there, staring at the body. The whole situation took on a nightmare aspect. It was as if Debbie was practically playing a prank, and yet the sight before him was so real and vivid.

After a while, he pulled himself together, got to his feet and moved towards the telephone beside the bedpost, his movement slow and deliberate. He did not see the black-clad figure moving towards him. He was only dimly aware of it when something hard hit him on the back of his head. He felled down pole axed.

Razor looked at the body on the ground and grinned wickedly. He shifted his eyes to the truncheon in his hand. He dropped the bloody weapon and looked around the room for a long moment. Satisfied, he moved out of the bedroom, his movement swift and final.

***

"Are you alright, Mr. Carter?” a voice said.

Kevin remained still on the ground as he regained consciousness. Different voices were talking around him, knifing his senses as he tried to open his eyes. He finally opened his eyes and saw other men surrounding him, carrying a heavy flashlight in their hands. The beam of the flashlight blinded him momentarily, and he hurriedly shut his eyes and shielded his face with his hand.

‎"Take the lights off his face, Smith.” The voice sounded kind and worried.

Kevin removed his hand from his face. There was a throbbing going on inside his head with the violence of a hammer beat. He tried to sit up but fell back weakly.

"Please help him up,” the kind voice said again.

Two men came to Kevin's side and lifted him up. After a while, the hammer beat inside his head lessened, and he opened his eyes and stared around the room. There were four powerfully built uniformed men surrounding him; then he saw Detective Tomayo's grimed face. All were staring at him keenly. He could also see the police photographers, who were busy with their cameras and the fingerprint men moving in and out of the room like ants after a lump of sugar.

‎“Mr. Carter, what happened?” Tomayo asked, looking at Kevin's face curiously.

Kevin at first looked puzzled, and then the memories of what had happened came rushing back.

“I don't know,” he said quietly. “I think there was a body on the ground, and there was lots of blood too. Then something hard hit on the dead, and I blacked out."

Tomayo studied him for a moment. Then he turned to his four good, hard men who work specially with him.

‎“Smith, please be a good boy, and gets this man an ice pack. Rogue, Billy, and Jake, I want you to cover the parameters of this building. The killer might still be out there watching us, watching how things will go. "

‎The uniformed trooped out of the room in a single file. Kevin was not interested in all these. His turmoil mind could still not assimilate what had actually happened to Debbie. Smith came back into the room and gave Kevin an Ice pack. He collected it, nodded his thanks, and placed the ice on the spot the truncheon had hit him.

“Mr. Carter is there more you can tell me “Tomayo went on.

Kevin shook his head, a stupefied expression on his face.

“Where did you find the girl?” Tomayo said.

“I brought her home." Kevin said in a low voice." From a club."

Tomayo heaved heavily and nodded.

"It's all right. One of the men assigned to watch you called me. He thought he heard some strange noise from inside the house, so he made the call. My team and I came rushing down here. But all we found was a beautiful woman whose throat had been slit brutally and your unconscious body. We’ve searched everywhere necessary. There's nothing to show that someone had broken in and killed the girl. It all points back to you. It was as if you carried out the act."

Kevin regarded the detective as if he was spewing rubbish from his mouth, but Tomayo ignored his look and continued.

“Mr. Carter, you are not a suspect here, and nobody is accusing you of anything. In fact, it would be stupid to accuse you of anything. My boys and I have combed the whole house. There was nothing to show that the killer had entered this room. In fact, nothing to show he was even in this premises. “He paused as Smith entered the room holding a pack of ice in his hand. He handed it to Kevin, who collected it from his hand and nodded his thanks, and then Tomayo went on. “The only evidence here that the killer had entered this room is the body of the woman we found here and this.” He produced a big plastic bag. Inside it was a truncheon. “This was found beside your body. I think the killer used this on you but not on her. Her throat had been slit, so this could not have killed her."

Kevin regarded the truncheon, and a sudden realization hit him.

“Please, detective, you've been yakking around for the past few minutes. Please, will Debbie alright? I need to see her.”

Tomayo regarded Kevin coolly.

“You seem not to have been listening to what I've been saying all along. Debbie is dead. The paramedics came to a while ago and took her body away. She had lost a lot of blood. By now, her body will be in the morgue."

Kevin's face was white with shock, and cold fear gripped his heart. Within a week, three women had been killed because of him. Who had he offended? He wondered, what has this crazy killer got to do with me?

All this while, Tomayo kept mute, allowing Kevin to battle with his inner emotions. He gave the plastic bag to one of the fingerprint men and turned to Smith.

“Smith, will you speed me up. What do you think happened here? How could—” He cut off abruptly as one of the men rushed into the room. It was Rogue. He was panting heavily.

“Hey!” Tomayo yelled. “Cool yourself, man, and tell me what the hell is up."

Rogue nodded frantically and said, “We found something, sir. A hole. A hole in the ceiling."

Tomayo darted out of the room, with his men and Kevin right on their heels. They got to a pitch-black room except for a ray of light that slithered through a wide opening in the ceiling. Jake and Billy were already there, cradling their rifles tightly in their hands ‎

“What is this?” Kevin asked, bewildered by what was going on around him.

‎Tomayo moved towards the ray of light and stood in its centre. He studied the opening for a long moment, a serious expression on his face. Then he turned to the men who had been staring at him expectantly.

“Gentlemen," he said. “Brace yourselves because I think we've got ourselves one hell of an intelligent killer.

Kevin was furious. He never offended anybody, so what did this killer or whoever he wanted with him.

Tomayo noticed the deadly look which had settled on Kevin's face,

“Mr. Carter, you don't have to worry. I will get you this killer that I promise you," Tomayo said and turned to his men.

“Guys, please let's move out. Jake and Billy, I want you on the rooftop. Smith, Rogue, you both stay with me."‎

“Roger that, sir", Jake and Billy replied in unison before moving out of the room.

Tomayo turned to Kevin, who was staring at the hole.

“Mr. Carter! Please come with me."

The detective moved out of the room, flanked by Rogue and Smith, while Kevin followed behind.

When they got to Kevin's bedroom, Tomayo looked around the room, allowing his eyes to ferret out anything unusual. Kevin was looking at Tomayo, different thought running around his mind.

“Who do you think this killer is?” He finally said.

Tomayo grinned mirthlessly.

“Mr. Carter, our killer is really crazy in the head, but he's good. I’ll give him that. From the sordid happenings which had been occurring these last few days, I think I can tell you a little about him."

Kevin narrowed his eyes.

“What do you know about him?”

“I’d say this guy is very tactical. He has different styles of killing. He killed Jessica Hill with a gun, Ella Brown with an electric dryer and Debbie throats must have been slashed with a kind of combat blade. Killing his victims in different ways would make him unpredictable. You see, serial killers have a unique pattern of killing their victims. They stick to these patterns like paper to glue. They rarely change their patterns. Yet, this guy has killed three people in three different ways. He's struck me he's not a serial killer. I think he's a professional killer."

“My God!” Kevin said in a shaky voice.

“There’s another thing," Tomayo continued, "He wears gloves. Think, Mr. Carter! Think! Why do you think we do not have his fingerprints by now? Because he wears gloves, of course, that is the simplest explanation. And I've checked the door handles and covered the parameters of this building. There is no sign of the fact that he had entered this room or force his way in. Yet, he killed someone in this room. The only evidence that he entered this house is the hole he had created on the rooftop. This is not a guy that loves to use the front door. He's the guy that loves the sneak in, take-you-by- surprise-kind-of-thing."

Kevin grimaced. He was not yet satisfied with the detective's explanation, but somehow, he knew the man was right.

Tomayo noticed the doubts in Kevin's eyes.

“Look ", he continued.” He seems to be familiar with the architectural plans of a house. Since we don't really know who he is, then the best explanation is that he's either a structural engineer or a professional killer. If he's an engineer of some sort, it's still okay, but if he's a pro killer, then we've got a lot of problem in our hand. I mean, this guy must be really good. Believe me; he must have been watching you for some time now. He seems to know so many things about you. Narrowing all the little evidence we gathered so far, and I would say this guy is a professional killer. He isn’t the mere serial type."

Kevin swallowed hard. The thought of someone watching his every move, much more a professional killer, frightened him more than anything.

“Detective, now we are getting somewhere ", he said.” Tell me, what does he want with me?

Tomayo shrugged.

“Maybe it was a business deal gone badly. Maybe you cheated him in some business transactions, or perhaps it has to do with women. Since he's bent on killing all the women in your life, then it's safe to assume you might have cheated him based on something that has to do with a woman. That was why I gave you a strict warning to avoid women for now, but you wouldn't listen. "

Kevin drew in a long, slow breath and grimaced.

“Detective! I've never hurt anyone in my life, let alone a woman, but I think I've learnt my lesson now. I will stay off women for now," he said in a grave voice.

Tomayo eyed Kevin for a moment. Even though Kevin had said the exact words he had wanted to hear, he had an odd feeling the man was not completely honest with him.

“You just do that!” Tomayo said a bite in his voice. “It will be a shame to see another woman's death. I have an odd feeling that something worse could still happen if you don't cease from seeing women for now, and I would hate to bring you in for questioning regarding the death of anyone”

Kevin nodded, feeling cold sweat on his face.

Tomayo dragged his eyes to the fingerprint men and told them to round things up. Then he turned to Kevin again.

“Mr. Carter, you have to relax your mind, alright? The boys and I are going now. If you noticed anything dials this number. “He took out a pen from his breast pocket and a notepad from his back pocket. He scribbled a number on the notepad and gave the note to Kevin.

Kevin took the note and stared at it.

“It’s my cell phone number," Tomayo said. “Please don't hesitate to call.” Then he shook hands with Kevin, signalled to Rogue and Smith, and they strode out of the room.

After Tomayo and his men had left, Kevin looked around the room and grimaced. His mind was busy with thought. He knew the detective was right when he had told him to stay off women, but inwardly, he knew he could never bring himself to do just that. Telling the detective, he would avoid the woman was a total lie. He had known many women in his life. Women were very essential to him. Staying off women would be like telling him to stay off foods for days. I guess I'll be more careful now, he thought; if I'm more cautious, then that nut case will stay off my back for good. Though his instincts told him to listen to the advice of the detective, his cravings for women brushed off the cautions. After reassuring himself that everything was going to be alright, he stood up from the sofa, crossed the room to his bedroom, flopped hard on the bed and within seconds, he was fast asleep.

The following day, after a quick breakfast of ham and eggs, Kevin, looking immaculately dresses in a white linen shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of Louis Vuitton loafers, got into his Bentley and drove to one an expensive shopping store in Miami Beach to get some food supplies for his kitchen. He got there, slid out of his car, and strode in.

He looked around the store, his eyes searching for the stuffs he needed. After putting all the essential items he needed inside a store cart, he wheeled the cart towards the salesgirl and paid for the items. Then he bought a big shopping bag, put all the things he had purchased inside it, winked at the salesgirl who was smiling at him and moved towards the exit door.

As he reached the revolving door, it suddenly slid open, and his body collided with a woman who was rushing in. The shopping bag in his hand dropped to the tiled floor, thereby spilling the contents of the bag onto the ground.

“My bad!” the woman said in a hard voice.

On hearing the voice, Kevin, who had already knelt to pick up the items, dragged his eyes up. The woman was in her early thirties and slightly above average height.

She had copper-coloured hair; her eyes, which were large and dark, were expressionless and impersonal. She had full sensual lips, and there was an arrogant, determined tilt to her chin.

She was wearing a white silk shirt tucked into black tight-fitting pants. Her body was full-breasted and narrow-waisted, and her full hips tapered down to long, slim legs. She was not really beautiful, but the sensuality oozing from her caught his attention the way a hook caught a fish. He stood up abruptly and stared at her.

“Watch the way you dig into guys, sister ", he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.” Anyways, I'm Kevin Carter”

“Who’s asking? “The woman said, regarding him coldly.

The sudden scorn in her voice made Kevin flinch, and his handsome face turned red.

"I'm just being friendly,” he growled, “After all, you were the one who bumped into me."

The woman regarded him for a very long moment, and then she said in a hard clipped voice.

“You want friendly? Alright! This is friendly. My name is Wynter, and right now, I want you to get the fuck out of my way.” She walked past him and moved towards the store shelves.

Kevin felt as if he had been giving a punch in his belly. He had expected her to be at least remorseful for what she had done, but her indifferent words baffled him. No woman had ever talked to him this way. Didn't she know he was Kevin Carter? He thought angrily.

He stood on the spot, bought items forgotten, a shocked expression on his face as he watched her do her shopping. When she was done, she walked towards him and regarded him how you would regard a fly in your tea. Then she said to him.

“I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, My God! This woman is so hot, how I wish I could have her right here, right now, well mister, I will tell you this, you are dealing with the wrong accessory ", and she gave him a cold smile and sashayed out of the store.

Kevin stood nonplussed, and he looked as if he had been hit on his head with a hammer. The salesgirl who had heard all the conversation was giggling to herself, and there was a jeering look in her eyes as she looked at him. Kevin ignored her. My God! He thought, what a cold beauty, and he moistened his lips with his tongue. Then he shrugged his shoulders and strode out of the store into the hot afternoon sun.

He was so occupied with his thoughts he failed to notice a black Porsche across the street. Neither did the two detectives watching Kevin as they drove after his glittering Bentley.

A cigarette hanging from his thick lips, his callused hands resting on the wheels, Razor set the Porsche in motion and drove back to his apartment.