“I haven’t modeled since college, but it’s not exactly rocket science, Murphy,” she snapped.
“Good, because you know how important it is that we catch this nut job…”
Lacy listened to her superior go off on his usual stint regarding the murderer’s past victims, the types of deaths, the possible accidents that could happen outdoors and anything else he could throw in.
It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to do her job. On the contrary, she was very good at what she did, which was why they didn’t want her to leave the force, but man, was she tired of it all.
“I know what to do, Murphy, so let me go and do it. Standing outside on my phone won’t allow me to watch over these girls,” she grumbled. “Not that there’s a whole lot to watch. A weak breeze would knock them down.”
“Not every woman can have your killer curves, Anders. It wouldn’t be fair to the male population.”
Yeah, like she hadn’t heard that before.
She hung up on his lingering laughter and thought back to her early years in modeling. She’d been tapped in college by an agent who’d happened to see her in the mall and asked her if she would be interested in modeling for a fashion catalog. Being a broke college student, she’d jumped at the opportunity and discovered that people really responded to her photos. She’d worked steadily while in school and ended up with a hefty savings account to show for it…but that was it.
Friends in the industry were a joke. At the first opening, another girl would gladly jump on a chance to steal a job from you. They would offer anything from doing the job for less money to sex. All in all, models were just like anyone else, their profession just as cutthroat as any other highly paid position. Lacy hated it.
At the moment, she was beyond frustrated. She hadn’t given this part of her past a thought for the last four years, but now, she was neck deep in it again and all because of her dipshit boss.
She’d just entered the back door when she was escorted into the kitchen area where a massage table had been erected behind a privacy screen. The thought of a massage was enough to make her weak in the knees, but the sight of the warm wax and strips of cloth next to the table was like a bucket of ice water on that little fantasy.
“You’re next dear,” the tiny woman sang, patting the table. “Hop up, and we’ll get started.”
“It’s amazing how chipper you guys are when you’re ripping our hair out,” Lacy grouched.
“It’s a good paying job, and besides, it’s the guys that get the worst deal on the waxing, believe me.”
Lacy had to chuckle at that. She wouldn’t mind signing up her superior for a round of waxing. Maybe then, he’d appreciate just how dedicated she was to this job.
Actually, if she was being truthful, she was getting pretty burnt out. She loved law enforcement, but recently, she’d decided to relocate. The city was just an endless cycle of violence and crime that left her feeling as if the life had been sucked out of her at the end of the day.
The craving for wide-open spaces and freedom from the towering cement and glass walls of the city was a major factor in her decision to leave. Lacy wanted to try for a small town, similar to Hastings, but her fellow officers continued to find cases—such as this one—where she was the only officer able to pull off the undercover assignment. Probably because she looked nothing like a cop.
Yeeouch!
Speaking of pulling things off, the wax Nazi was already applying the next strip of wax to her right leg. “You know, I could just shave,” Lacy offered.
Of course, the evil little woman just laughed and snatched the next strip. “They said to have you ladies as smooth as a baby’s bottom from head to toe, so that’s what we’re doing.”
“Everywhere?”
“Oh, yes. Those bathing suits are quite small. I’m not sure a trim job will do.”
That is it! Lacy thought furiously. This is my last case.
A few strips later and the woman was instructing Lacy on how to position her legs for the bikini wax. Oh, yeah, someone is going to pay for this.
Chapter Two
Ethan spent the next two days in mind-numbing boredom. He’d been reduced to babysitting the photographer and his assistants as they plotted out their “vision” for the shoot.
Apparently, that vision still involved him since the irritating little runt of a man continued to hound him and had even attempted to sway him by promising Ethan his pick of the models to work with.
Didn’t the little pigmy understand the word no?
Ethan sighed. Obviously, he hadn’t denied the man enough because he was making his way over to Ethan again.