Sips of Blood by Mary Ann Mitchell

extra key to
her apartment, because I'm thinking it might be a good idea to
check on her."
    Evie quickly brought her right hand behind
her back. Sade could see the golden-colored keys sparkle in her
palm.
    "She'd never give me a key. Are you kiddin'?
You know how she is. She trusts no one. I doubt she has any friends
to hold a key for her. Besides, I think it would be too soon to
barge into her apartment. I did see her earlier in the day. Maybe
Ginger snuck out while Mrs. MacManus was locking the door or maybe
Mrs. MacManus is asleep. Who knows how Ginger managed to get into
the hall? She can be quit mischievous. Ginger, I mean."
    Tais-toi!
    "I guess your right. I'll take Ginger up to
my apartment and check in again with Mrs. MacManus later in the
evening. By the way, Evie, could I stop by later tonight?"
    "Not a good idea."
    "Already booked with another client?"
    Client? wondered Sade.
    "Sort of. Good night." Evie closed the door,
leaned her back against it and signalled Sade that he should be
quiet.
    Sade didn't plan on revealing himself to
David while holding a dead body and cavorting with a
soon-to-be-dead young woman.
    Several minutes passed with both of them
barely breathing.
    "Let's try again," Evie finally said.
    This time the hall was empty. Sade waited
inside the apartment while Evie unlocked Mrs. MacManus' door. As
soon as he heard the squeak of the door hinges, he rushed Mrs.
MacManus back to her apartment, depositing the body on the first
object he saw, an old pine dresser. He stepped back and thought
about how inappropriate she looked. The floor would be better, but
did it matter? If they do an autopsy, which they probably will,
they'll see she has a broken neck. Hmmm.
    "What will the police think when she's
found?" asked Evie. "I mean, I can't afford to have the police
knocking on my door asking questions."
    "What are you doing?" Evie watched Sade
search through several closets, finally pulling forth an aluminum
stepladder.
    Sade had decided to ease Evie's qualms and to
make it look like Mrs. MacManus had fallen from the ladder. He
undid the raincoat, removed it from the body, and hung it up in the
closet. He set the ladder up so that it appeared that the old woman
had been searching a kitchen cabinet. Easily he hoisted the body up
the ladder and dropped her from the top step. He paused to look at
Evie.
    "What the hell..." Evie's mouth and eyes were
round.
    He walked past her to the outside hall while
suggesting she lock up. Evie followed and did as she was told.
    "The keys. What do I do with the keys?"
    Sade grabbed the keys from her hand and
dumped them down the garbage shoot.
    "She won't be needing them again. And I
expect after a week or two someone will suggest breaking down the
door. L'odeur de la mort never fails to attract the
scavengers."
    Evie shivered and padded her way back to her
apartment with Sade following closely behind. At the door she
stopped and looked at Sade.
    "I hope to never see you again."
    "I have assisted you in being rid of a
body."
    "There wouldn't have been a body except...
What did you do to her?"
    "Moi! Nothing! I merely came to the
aid of someone who appeared ill." Sade brushed back a red curl from
Evie's right cheek. "Mademoiselle Evie." He brushed his
thumb across her deep red lips. "It is obvious you are truly a
beautiful, sensuous woman. Une femme de petite vertu." She
watched his lips form the sound of French poetry without
comprehension. "I could promise to never speak of your contribution
tonight if..."
    "The pound of flesh."
    "Literally."
    Evie guided Sade into the apartment and
immediately into her bedroom, a room draped in black and red with a
standing bondage post. A wall rack and padded bondage table were to
his right. Upon the opposite wall hung an assortment of whips,
canes in a variety of materials, leather hoods, and on the aluminum
table various piercing devices.
    "Mademoiselle, the acoustics?"
    "Three layers of soundproofing."
    "C'est le