Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8) by Kaylie Hunter (novels to read for beginners txt) 📕

halfway to the table with her wine and seemed unsure as to which direction to turn. Wild Card, appearing out of nowhere in a white button-down dress shirt and black slacks, took the wine glass from Joey and carried it, along with menus, to our table.

“Ladies,” Wild Card said, bowing slightly as he set the items down.

“Can you recommend something to eat?” Jackie asked as she glanced at the menu. “Something I can pronounce?” she asked, frowning at the one-page selection of items.

“Maybe I can help with that,” I said, pulling my phone. I called the kitchen and asked to speak to Edwin, the chef.

“Mr. Baker rang me to tell me you were here. I just started to prepare your dinner.”

“Can you make two—”

Wild Card cleared his throat.

“Make that three, dinners? I have a guest tonight, and I’ll take the third serving home for lunch tomorrow.”

“I’ll make enough for you to feast for a week. How’s that?”

“Splendid. Thanks, Edwin.” I disconnected the phone, dropping it into my purse.

“Well? What are we eating?” Jackie asked.

“No idea,” I answered truthfully, picking up the menus and handing them to Wild Card. “But I know it will be sensational.” I handed my wine glass to Wild Card as well. “Can you bring me something else? Anything else?”

“Me too,” Jackie said, handing him her wine glass.

With the menus under his arm, Wild Card carried both wine glasses toward the bar. Since I was the one facing the bar, Jackie didn’t see Wild Card drink from my glass. Nor did she see his face pucker as a result.

Turning my attention back to Jackie, I realized she was smiling at me in a way that had me moving my hand closer to my purse and the gun I had tucked inside.

“Baker tells me you needed information about choking orgasms. Are you considering trying sexual asphyxiation?”

I threw my head back in surprise. “Wow. You get right to the point, don’t you?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Luckily, she was grinning ear to ear.

“Given my preferences toward violent playtime, assertiveness works in my favor.”

“I can only imagine. And no, I’m not looking to experiment. I’m working a case. I’m a cop, but this conversation will be completely off the record.”

“A cop? Hmm.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. I’m just surprised Baker would arrange for me to speak to a cop.”

“I have a business relationship with Baker which has nothing to do with my badge.”

“I see. And you think I can help you somehow? With a case?”

“Probably not. But there’s a killer out there who seems inclined to choke his victims before killing them with a lethal injection. I’m trying to get in the killer’s head. Figure him out.”

Jackie straightened in her seat but tilted her head to the side. “I’ll need more information. Men, women, or both? Does he choke them with one hand or two? Are they dressed or naked? Does he prefer daytime or night? Indoors or outdoors? Does he cover their eyes? Or bind their hands? Hell, are you sure it’s a man? More and more women are stepping out as aggressors in bedroom play.”

My jaw might’ve dropped as I listened to her.

Jackie glanced next to us and when I did as well, I was startled to find Wild Card standing beside the table, holding hurricane glasses.

Jackie took the glasses from him, setting one in front of me. “Oh, what do we have here?” She took a slow sip of her drink. “Mmm. It’s been ages since I had a good pina colada. This is great, thank you.”

Wild Card’s eyes swiveled to me before he abruptly spun on his heel and returned to the bar.

“So? Information?” Jackie said, setting her drink down.

“Men and women. Clothed. No indication of bondage. And we don’t have enough information to know location or time of day preferences, but I’d wager he’s more concerned about witnesses than either of those factors.”

“And does he use one or two hands to strangle them?”

“Neither.” I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “The victims are tackled to the ground and forced on their stomachs. From there, he lies on top of them and uses his forearm across the back of the neck.”

Jackie squinted in concentration. “Interesting. You said he injects them? Where exactly?”

“The neck,” I answered, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, yes. That would work. That’s his peak moment.” She picked up her glass and took another drink, completely unbothered by the conversation we were sharing.

“What do you mean?”

“Imagine old-fashioned ordinary sex. You start off at one pace, kicking it up as the excitement builds, then—if you’re lucky—you orgasm. Your killer likely is rubbing against the victim, building friction, but I don’t think the victim passing out triggers his release. By not using his hands, he’s too distanced from the experience. But the injection, that’s something he can both see and feel as he presses the needle into the skin and then plunges the contents into their bodies. That’s his orgasm trigger.”

“He’s not sexually excited by the choking itself?”

“I didn’t say that,” she said, shaking her head. “Controlling his victims is probably enough to make him hard. But it’s foreplay. Most people have a preferred sexual position. Some like missionary, some like cowboy or cowgirl, or rear-entry. But your killer always lies on top of the victim’s backside. He not only gains control but I’d guess it’s also his preferred sexual position.” She took another drink of her pina colada. “You really should drink. This is excellent.”

I took a long drink through my straw, giving myself time to align my thoughts. “One of the cases involved two people. A man and a woman. My theory is the man interrupted the killer, and then was killed by the injection. The killer then used a knife to kill the woman.”

Her