Read The Two Deaths of Daniel Hayes for Free Online Page B

while the water warmed up, then slipped out of her panties, kicked them into the hamper, and got in the shower.
    God , that felt good. She turned, tilted her head to wash her hair. Okay, so. A long day. She was still dealing with the sheriff’s department, trying to maintain a stonewall that got weaker every day. Plus there was her more traditional work. Today she had lunch with a client, a rapper-turned-action-star who released records as Too G, but whose real name was Tudy, and who called his maid to squash spiders. That would be followed by the day’s main event, a “friendly chat” at Universal, who had somehow gotten Don Cheadle interested in the script already promised to Tudy. The tricky part was that they hadn’t signed papers with her client yet—blaming that on their lawyers, Hollywood Stall Tactic 514—so technically she didn’t have much to work with. And of course, Cheadle was a truly remarkable actor, while Tudy was . . . well, a rap star. But the Universal VP owed her. So, she thought as she turned off the water and pulled open the curtain, if she could remind him of that without overplaying—
    There was a stranger leaning against her sink.
Sophie staggered back, fumbling for the wall, her thoughts scattering in different directions, processing the fact that she didn’t know the man, that he must have broken in, that she was naked and dripping, that he had something shiny and metal tucked into the front of his pants. Her hand slapped the shower tile, slipped, caught.
“Do me a favor,” the man said, “and don’t scream, okay, sister?” 5
Bennett smiled at the woman as she clawed at the wall for balance, her eyes going wide, breath gasping in. “Sophie. Really. Don’t.”
    Her mouth fish-gawped, and he could see her thinking about screaming anyway, knowing she could get a shout off before he could stop her. Then, as her rational mind came into it, realizing that he knew her name, that this wasn’t a random break-in. That he had an agenda.
    Which was the moment fear really bloodied its claws. “So,” Bennett said conversationally, “I was involved in this thing in Chicago that went badly.” He kept his eyes on hers, didn’t give her a second to look away. “I know. Who cares, right? Reason I bring it up is simple. My back is to the wall here. And since you spend a lot of time negotiating, I thought I’d make sure you understood that. You know what it means when someone’s back is to the wall?”
Bennett had broken in an hour ago, and had stood watching her sleep, the rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips were slightly parted. He’d thought about sitting at the end of her bed and waiting for her to wake up, but he wanted her clearheaded as well as vulnerable, so instead he’d gone into the kitchen, made a cup of coffee, and sat at her breakfast nook drinking it and waiting for her to get in the shower. It was all about theater in his line of work.
“Sophie? Do you know what that means?”
Her chin quivered, and it took her a moment to find her voice. “It means all options are on the table.”
“Close.” He rubbed his hands together so that she could see the white surgical gloves he wore. Her eyes shivered with images of blood and gleaming steel knives. “It means there are no constraints. Do you see the difference?”
She swallowed, nodded slowly. Her arms had settled at her sides, which he liked. Only very stupid people worried about modesty when he came calling. “I understand.”
“Good.” He pulled a towel off the bar, held it out to her. Basic technique to establish a power dynamic, kick a dog and then scratch his ears. Alpha had control; beta gratefully accepted what was given.
She hesitated. If someone had tried this in the boardroom, no doubt she would have fed them their teeth. But you aren’t in the boardroom, sister.
Sophie took the towel, wrapped it around herself.
“Now. I’m going to ask some questions. The smartest thing you can do is answer me. You do