“I have photographs for you,” Ruiz said. “We’ll drive to her house.”
Melnikova sat Trish’s body in the Mustang’s passenger seat. She didn’t draw her seatbelt.
“You are handsome man,” she said to Ruiz. “Perhaps I shall have you for myself.”
“Not part of my agreement,” Ruiz said, pulling the car out, and heading south toward Trish’s small one-bedroom house.
“Your agreement means nothing to me,” Melnikova said. “Do you believe I cannot make you slave to my merest whim?”
“That’s fine,” Ruiz said, glancing at her. “Let’s take care of business first.”
“Business, yes, always the business,” Melnikova said. She stiffened suddenly.
“What’s wrong?” Ruiz asked.
Trish’s body relaxed.
“It’s nothing,” Melnikova said. “The waitress. She wants her body back. She is stronger than the other one.”
“
