Black Heart: A totally gripping serial-killer thriller by Anna-Lou Weatherley

Author:Anna-Lou Weatherley
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786813442
Publisher: Bookouture

Chapter Thirty-One

‘I just need to check the CCTV footage from the last few weeks. Some things have gone missing from my apartment and I want to make sure it’s not that wayward brother of mine pinching my stuff before I go to the police. He’s family, you understand, got a bad cocaine habit… and stupidly, a key to my apartment.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘He swears he’s never set foot inside it, but I don’t know how else my stuff might’ve gone walk about, you know. And, well, I don’t want to get him in any trouble – he’s not a bad kid – just a bit lost, and he is my brother…’

Danni-Jo is looking at the security manager with big blue eyes; her bottom is perched on his desk. She’s wearing a pretty floral summer dress, too summery for this time of year or certainly for the climate. He’s staring at her cleavage and glancing at her slim exposed thigh.

‘I’m not supposed to,’ he says nervously, swallowing dryly. ‘It’s against regulations, I’m sorry.’

She sighs heavily. ‘I understand. Well, perhaps you can look,’ she suggests, ‘I’ll just sit here and watch you while you do.’

He half laughs. ‘Going back two weeks you say? That’ll take a while.’

‘S’alright, I’ve got a while,’ she grins. ‘How about I get us a few beers and a pizza while we’re looking? Make a date of it.’

The word ‘date’ stuns him. This girl is a fucking supermodel and she’s offering to buy him beer and pizza and practically flashing her fanny at him. She must certainly love this brother of hers. He hasn’t had a ‘date’ in years, and he’s never had a date that looks like this one.

‘You pulling my leg?’ he asks, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He hasn’t had a shower in two days and he ate a cheese-and-onion sandwich for breakfast.

‘No,’ she replies, ‘of course not! Although I could pull something else…’ she giggles and whinnies like a little pony as she slides off the desk and grabs her handbag.

‘What do you like on your pizza?’ Danni-Jo asks before he has a chance to respond.

He’s staring at her blankly, like this is some kind of MTV prank and Ashton Kutcher’s going to turn up any minute with a camera crew and humiliate him on live TV.

‘I’m a ham and pineapple girl myself… Let me guess, you like something hot and spicy, you’re a meat-feast kind of guy – pepperoni? Am I right?’

He can all but nod, speechless.

‘And you drink Budweiser? I can get us a six-pack. I won’t tell anyone you’ve been drinking on the job, don’t worry, this will be our little secret, yeah?’

He’s nodding like a dog on a dashboard now, wondering if perhaps he’s actually still asleep and this is a dream: a fantasy in his unconscious mind. He’ll wake up soon, but hopefully not before the action begins.

‘Yeah,’ he finally manages to respond, ‘I like Budweiser.’

Danni-Jo smiles brightly, exposing her neat white teeth. She looks like one of those Victoria’s Secret models he masturbates to sometimes, all bouncy blonde hair, tits and teeth.

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