Three Times a Lady

Chapter 36

Inside the former FBI agent’s bedroom thirty seconds later, Nicholas fished out a pair of Dana Whitestone’s lacy, boy-cut panties from the dirty laundry hamper and pressed the crotch to his nose. They were still moist. Inhaling deeply, he swooned, the scent sweeter to him than that of a dozen fragrant roses.

The sweet smell of success.

There was nothing sexual about this action, of course. Not in any technical sense, at least. Still, Nicholas knew that if he could get this close to the vaunted man-hunter in the middle of the day he could get this close to her anytime he damn well pleased. And he would be this close to her again very soon.

Just as close as two human beings could possibly get.

Dana Whitestone’s vacation house felt light and airy, featuring hardwood floors that were covered with a light dusting of sand and very little furniture. An homage to the minimalist movement, perhaps, or maybe just easier for the landlord to maintain the place that way. Either way, it seemed like a nice place to just kick back and relax. A place where you could let all your earthly worries slip off your shoulders and just fade away. A safe place.

Or so Dana Whitestone had probably thought when she’d rented it.

How painfully wrong she’d been.

There were no large windows in the front of the structure, so no one on the street could see Nicholas as he snooped around. Good thing for them, too. Because if someone had found themselves with a wandering eye, he’d have happily plucked it out for them with his trusty knife. The steel had been tempered in blood now, and with each passing murder Nicholas was finding progressively easier to take another person’s life. Hell, it had even begun to seem fun to him now.

And he was just getting warmed up.

Whistling REO Speedwagon’s Keep on Lovin’ You softly beneath his breath, Nicholas opened up Dana Whitestone’s dresser drawers and touched her things, rubbing his fingertips over her personal belonging and soaking in her energy. Ten feet away, her clothes stared out at him from an open closet door – superhero costumes waiting patiently for her to slip them back on and get back to work.

The queen-sized bed in the middle of the room had been neatly made, just as Nicholas had known it would be. Dana Whitestone had always been something of a neat freak, hadn’t she? Had always liked everything in her life to fit into a neat little box. And from the look of things, she still retained those particular idiosyncrasies, even though she was back on the sauce now. Still, being a drunk didn’t mean that you also needed to be a slob. Dana Whitestone was proof positive of that much.

Shivering hard despite the heavy, almost oppressive warmth in the room, Nicholas allowed himself to enjoy all the many feelings that were rushing through his veins. Anticipation. Joy. Revenge.

Opening up Dana Whitestone’s purse, he counted out the bills inside her wallet. Eighty-one dollars. Then he took out her driver’s license and examined her vital statistics with great interest.

Born 20 September 1972, she was thirty-nine years old now, a Virgo in the prime of her life. And good thing, too. She remained young and healthy enough to prove the worthy foil Nicholas needed to drive him to the very top of his game, even if it was her remarkable brain that had always marked her greatest strength.

Placing Dana Whitestone’s wallet back into her purse, Nicholas then returned to the bathroom from which he’d stolen her panties a moment earlier. Leaning down, he ran his hand over the toilet seat where she did her dirty business. They all did their dirty business in the privacy of their own homes, didn’t they? Where they thought they were all alone and no one else in the world could see them.

Once again, how painfully wrong she’d been.

On his way out of the house, Nicholas stopped in each one of the rooms, planting small listening devices throughout. Some went behind furniture, others in potted plants. With the end game upon them now, it was absolutely vital that he tracked Dana Whitestone movements at all times. Just like his mother had always tracked his. That was key if everything was to go according to plan from here on out.

Finally exiting the quaint beach house five minutes later, Nicholas shuffled across the street with his head down again, completely confident in the knowledge not even the best investigator in the world could tell he’d been in the former FBI agent’s house. And thank God for that, too. Because Dana Whitestone was one of the best investigators in the world. Maybe even the best. Still, she had her own special little gifts, and Nicholas had his. To say the least, it should make for a very interesting match-up when the time finally came for the last act of the play to commence.

Back in his own bedroom two minutes later, Nicholas flopped down on his bed and lifted the pilfered panties to his face again. Breathing in Dana Whitestone’s intoxicating scent once more, in his mind he made love to her for the first time, though certainly not for the last.

As he’d expected, she proved to be a wonderful lover.