The Dark Side of Chocolate

Audrey looked like she needed him.

"Do you see what I see?" His hot air tickled her ear. "I read you, loud and clear."

Her lips parted as a familiar but rare heat grew in her stomach.

"...oh..."

Her cry was as good as an affirmation to him. He kissed her again, this time more forceful, more demanding. Her head fell back against the wall and her fingers settled on the shoulders of his jacket. He nipped at her lips, begging for entrance into her mouth which she gave him. Tom's hot, wet tongue swept in, tasting sweet and spicy. The tip of his tongue traced along the roof of her mouth and she moaned, digging fingernails into his jacket. Somehow, he had maneuvered himself between her legs and he lifted her up the wall, holding her against it with his body. It felt good, so good she had forgotten they were in public. An arm flailed at her from her peripheral vision. Glancing over she saw Lala waving to her and blowing kisses.

Oh damn. She'd never live this...oh.

He was kissing her neck now.

Behind him were the glass suites. She hoped Harrison was in there blowing a gasket. He had two girls in there again. Shadra was filling his wine glass.

So, he had found someone to take her place? The girl wore a short navy blue dress and sat on his lap. She rocked back and forward. He held her waist. Fucking in public, what vulgar acts the masses...

"Oh my God!"

Tom seemed to notice her attention had slipped.

He reached under her dress and began stroking her pussy. She struggled, writhing like a butterfly on a pin.

"No! Not here," she moaned loudly. "I won't!"

"Of course not."

He gently placed her down. She bit her lip and trailed a finger down his neck. She felt him shiver.

"But you better stop that," he growled. His eyes were alight with hunger. She felt weak in the knees.

"Fine. I'll find Lala a cab. Then let's go."

"Not yet," he said shaking his head.

Audrey scoffed. "You're a whorish tease!"

He laughed, shaking his head. "You go to the bar and buy yourself a drink under my tab. When you finish it I'll be ready."

What the hell was wrong with this guy? She was taking a chance here!

Audrey shook her head in annoyance. "If you don't want to be with me..."

"You misunderstand," he said sharply. "I don't intend to leave here without you."

"Uh..."

Now don't mess it—

"Well, that's whazz up..." She playfully punched his shoulder. "Homie..."

He gave her an odd look and she pivoted towards the bar.

"Stupid, stupid Audrey! Why can't you do anything right?"

Audrey sighed and threw herself on the bar.

"With comebacks like that I deserve to die."

"Chica!"

Lala returned to the bar with her lipstick smudged and a huge smile on her face.

"Having fun with Stan?" Audrey teased.

"Miss Audrey..." Lala sung, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer.

"Did I just see you pressed up against the wall with a certain man between your legs?"

Audrey blushed. "Well, let's just say that this is the wildest club I've ever been to. Oh and Lala?"

"Yes?"

"You're going to have to call a cab."

"Does that mean we're going home separately?" Lala whispered naughtily.

"Not if Stan and Tom are roommates."

Lala dissolved into a peel of high pitched giggles and Audrey plugged her ears.

"God, how do I deactivate you?"

"Oh girl!" Lala gushed hugging her. "Thank you for inviting me! This is the first of so many more nights!"

"I never said that."

"Don't ruin this Audrey."

She rolled her eyes, about to speak when the glass suite caught her eye again. Harrison was bent over, one woman rubbing his back while another was on her knees.

Those sick bastards.

Looking on longer she realized it wasn't sex. He was sick. Too much alcohol and too much stirring Audrey guessed. Oh well he could shake it o...

Harrison held his throat and keeled over. Without warning, he began to violently convulse.

"Oh my God," Audrey exclaimed.

"What? What?"

Harrison's hands were around his throat and she couldn't hear him, but she knew he was screaming. Looking back at Lala in terror she stood up.

"Hey, there's something wrong with that man in the glass suite!" Audrey shouted to the bartender. He didn't seem to hear her.

She was about to shout again when she looked to the wall and saw Tom. He was calmly watching the man flail. He had a hard expression, his arms crossed over his chest. Harrison gave one violent jerk and then, stopped moving.

One of the women grabbed her head and ran out of the door. Tom checked his watch and then pushed off the wall. He was headed back towards the bar.

"Oh my God."

Audrey grabbed LaCienega and ran to the elevator.

"What are you doing?" Lala shrieked.

She had no time to explain. Using her free hand Audrey pounded the elevator button over and over frantically chanting, "Come on, come on!"

A scream rose over the music.

"HELP! HE'S DEAD! HE'S DEAD!"

It was as though the glass suite had lifted its invisible curtains. Everyone could now see the dead man lying on its plush VIP floor. The club stilled, and then, imploded with hysteria. The music cut off as people rushed to and from the scene.

The elevator opened unmanned and Lala fell in, pulling Audrey down with her. People began stampeding towards them, but Audrey jumped up and pulled the lever all the way down. Before they could get to it, it closed. On the floor through the slit of the elevator door, Audrey could swear she saw him again. He was standing by the bar, looking gravelly at her.

A different kind of chill run down her spine, and the elevator jerked into motion.

"LaCienega...do you have your purse?"

Mute for the first time in her life, Lala nodded. Good, she had hers too. They stood up and stepped quickly into the lobby.

"How did..." Lala began but Audrey shook her head.

"When we're alone," she whispered.

They got their coats and walked out. They got into a complimentary cab, and sat in silence. Audrey could still feel the fierce beating of the club shaking in her.

She had no proof for what she felt. It was probably a decadent overdose of drugs or alcohol. There was no evidence of foul play.

So, why did she know it was murder? And why was she sure that "Tom" as he had named himself, was involved?

Audrey took Lala's hand and squeezed.

Well Audrey, that's because he was.

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Chapter Three: Oreo Bon bons

It had been a rough night for both of them. After hailing a cab they had opted to head to LaCienega's house since it was closest. Looking around, Audrey understood why Lala had called her apartment a matchbox. Lala had a flat, studio style, with a large expansive window looking out on the New York skyline.

"What's your job again?"

"What just happened?"

Audrey frowned, peeling off her boots. "I don't know. I just know I felt like it was time to go."

"How did you know?"

"Bitch, I'm psychic."

Lala looked at her in silence.

Should she tell Lala the truth?

"Girl...why didn't you tell me?"

Wait, what?

"I watched a documentary about people with ESP. I know the signs."

"Look, it's not that deep," Audrey said. "I saw the guy fall down and I figured if he was badly hurt they'd need to evacuate us. I didn't want us to get stuck in an over packed elevator getting interrogated by police and manhandled by bouncers."

"Well chica, I'm glad all the people watching you do paid off. Though I still think you have ESP."

"I have ESPN and it gives me all the playoff games."

Audrey shrugged off her dress. Lala was already in her underwear and slipping on a T-shirt. She tossed Audrey a blue one with a pair of shorts.

"It is a shame we had to leave those hot guys," Lala grumbled. "That one next to you was fine, but he seemed a little serious. Now his friend..."

Audrey drowned her out. She needed to crash.

"I'm wiped."

Lala smiled and ushered her to join her on her big circular bed. "We'll talk all about it tomorrow."

"Sure."

With that, Audrey passed out.

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He scanned the empty club looking on what would have been the crime scene. The girl who had shouted of Harrison's death hadn't checked his pulse properly.

No, Harrison hadn't died in the club. He would die in the hospital bed with nothing in his autopsy but a very high alcohol liver count. It would show that he died of alcohol poisoning, and knowing his reputation, it would be unquestioned.

Checking his watch he looked out past the windows near the lounge of the bar. With all those bodies it had been impossible to even see it. Lights poured in from skyscrapers, slicing the room into thirds. He saw Kai pull up in a black car. Kai flashed his lights once before pulling into the parking lot.

He boarded the elevator, exited the club, and entered the car. Kai's mohawk rubbed against the car roof.

"Is it clean?"

"Yes," he replied leaning back. "Harrison should die by 3:15 am."

"Good."

Kai drove around some back streets before he finally glanced up at his occasional partner.

"Now, what about the girls?"

"Girl," he corrected. "The one you were with didn't seem to know anything. If we don't hear any press tomorrow about murder, I doubt the other one told her or anyone."

"Fair enough," Kai said turning left. "Did you ID them?"

"No."

"That could be a problem."

"Not really."

"Good, cause I liked mine."

Before Kai had left with Lala, he had told him to make the girl beside him his alibi.

"I've got my alibi, you get yours," he had shouted. It wasn't hard to get women to come home with him. This one has struggled. There was something about her that he found...interesting.

He had noticed her come in and sit beside him as though no one in the world existed but her. She had been cool and collected; the opposite of her eccentric friend. Yet, he noticed her stoic demeanor disappear when she thought she wasn't being watched. Why the mask? Did she have reasons, like him?

"So do you think she knows?"

He frowned. She had looked at him and out of the club with her friend on her arm.

"I know she doesn't fully understand. But, she was smart."

"Smart enough to piece bits together?"

"Smart enough to heard your bit about the hit deadline and think it was a baby."

Kai turned down another path before parking right in a junk yard.

"Should we be concerned?"

"I'll take care of her."

She was a little brown deer. "Ruth" had sensed the danger and run off. It fascinated him.

They got out of the car, the chalky white outline of its designated spot lining perfectly with Kai's driving. They scuffed out the thin line with their shoes. Then they walked off. He heard the sound of heavy machinery activate before a giant crane arm smashed their car down into the ground. After a few more collisions, the debris was lifted and put on a scrap conveyor belt.

Kai held up a hand in acknowledgement to whoever trashed the car before slipping on his black sunglasses.

"You heading to a hotel?"

Kai took out a cigarette and lit it in a fluid motion.

"No," he said slipping on his own glasses. "I'm going to look up Ms. Ruth."

"You know that's not her real name."

"Obviously."

They walked off, the sky beginning to lighten behind them.

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"Stories report that 45-year old CEO Maxwell Harrison died last night in a hospital, after attending the exclusive Black Blade VIP event last night. Evidence suggests that Harrison died of liver failure due to overconsumption of alcohol. We have Donna on scene covering the story...Hi I'm Donna Hunter. I'm standing at St. Janet hospital where at 3:08 am this morning, wealthy businessman Maxwell Harrison..."

Audrey shut off the television.

So he didn't die in the club, he died in a hospital. Either it was a normal freak accident, or the perfect cover up. It just didn't feel right.

She couldn't ignore the way that man had looked at her, or the lack of reaction he had they proclaimed Harrison was dead.

Looking up from the couch she saw Lala was still tangled in her bed cover.

Audrey laid back. What did that mean for her? Was she in danger?

The questions buzzing around in her head gave her a headache. She couldn't help but feel that she should lie low for a week or so. What did he have to go on? He had that she was sort of a reporter for clubs and her name was Ruth.

She checked the time. It was 7:50, her boss might be in.

Her boss answered the phone drowsily.

"WYS, Ranger speaking."

"Hi, Ms. Ranger? This is me, Audrey."

"Oh Audrey, I saw the news. Are you okay? How did your assignment go?"

Oh thanks for devoting so much time to my well being boss-lady.

"We got out before things got crazy."

"We?"

"I took LaCienega in accordance with the club's plus one invite."

"I see..."

She could practically see the wheels of disbelief turning on her head.

"So...what's up?"

"I was wondering if we could publish my current and future articles under an alias."

"Any special reason?"

"Just that I was hoping to be as discreet as possible in the future."

Her boss paused for a moment too long and she added, "And I'm a bit freaked about the death of that man at the club I was at."

That won her over.

"Okay fine. What'll it be?"

"Dancing Queen."

"Copyrighted and Irrelevant."

"Club Bunny?"

"Lame."

"Dolores."

"Works for me."

With that they bid goodbyes. Still a bit tired

she laid back down on Lala's couch. The girl probably wouldn't rise until noon. Well, at least she felt a bit better.

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The next week Audrey had done exactly what she had planned. That weekend she had gone home and stayed home, trying to work around her problem. She didn't necessarily have a tangible problem, but she felt like ignoring her senses would be a dumb idea.

It was true she was probably a paranoid bitch, but she'd rather be an alive paranoid bitch than a dead one.

When she went in and showed her boss the article she had written before the incident, she explained it would be unwise to release it right now. She argued that every other magazine and news station would be reporting on it, and it'd be tragedy. For all she knew, the club might get closed down. Ranger agreed, having thought about pulling the article anyway.

Having felt that she covered her tracks well enough, she decided to avoid future sightings. Tom had been at Black Blade without a press pass. That meant that he was rich. With enough spread to treat the Black Blade like Starbucks, he probably visited a lot of high profile clubs. It might be good to go to a bunch of normal people clubs. She'd fit in a lot easier. Audrey looked up about three and showed her boss that she could put them all in one exposé.

"I'll call it hopping with a budget. Give it trade name like riding the bunny. Get it? Cause bunnies hop?"

"I really like your initiative Audrey," Ranger said, giving her a tense smile. "Run the article. Clip the name. It's graphic."

"Thank you maam."

Graphic...of course! Why did she have to use "riding?"

The week passed by in relative solace and Audrey's confidence grew. So far she was doing well. She had stayed relatively close to home and of course, had been purged of details by Marco. He was furious she ran off without letting Tom have his way with her, but he gave her a C for effort.

"Isn't that an A for effort?"

"Bitch, you get a C. As in: See, I should have secured that cock."

Valentine's Day was coming up, which meant that the clubs would have to be for singles who wanted to mingle. Couples didn't go to clubs on Valentine's Day, not unless they were fresh. She was currently at home, doing some research in between bites of Chinese food. Marco was harassing her over the phone. In fact her phone was ringing now. Speak of the devil.

"Hello?"

"Bitch aren't you lonely?"

"Hello Marco."

"This weekend is your last chance to get in my good graces. If you don't lose your virginity soon I'm going to have to do it myself."

"Yes I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

"You are not fine!" Marco protested. "Lala told

me you had a hot jacked man between your legs. And you let a little murder stop you from tapping that?"

"Uh yeah. It's kind of a mood killer. Hehe. Mood killer."

"Princess Punny please. Control yourself."

After that, the conversation became normal in terms of Marco. He and Steph were planning another dinner for Valentine's Day, but they were thinking about inviting a few couples to go along.

"So if you want to come you need to bring a man."

"Why can't I bring a woman?"

"Bring anyone you plan to sleep with."

"So..."

"Do the nasty Audrey. Not a sleepover. Why don't you put your hammer down, Wordsmith?"

"You know I'm a keeper babe," she snickered.

"Yeah. A real tight keeper too. Might have to get a damn treasure hunter to discover that..."

"Marco just face it, I'm going to die alone surrounded by my wealth and my two cats with

rhyming names."

"Ookie and Pookie?"

"More like Tiggs and Mr. Biggs."

"Oh please. You're exaggerating."

"What's wrong with Mr. Biggs?"

No, I meant about the wealth and cats."

"...I guess."

"I know. You'll be poor like the rest of us."

"You're a class act Marco."

"Audrey you are pretty. You need to believe that. Now go get a man."

"Yes mama."

"Damn right I'm your momma! Momma says go put on that white sundress I bought you last year and march your butt down the street, walking real slow."

"But...it's cold outside."

"Audrey! Don't make me put my foot up—"

"I've got work. Bye!"

"Audr—"

Audrey hung up. Now, what was she doing?

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The woman had eluded him for a week, 7 days and he was no closer to finding her than he had that night. It was inexcusable to be unable to find a pedestrian with a general location, and an occupation.

Black Blade had no camera surveillance past the 3rd level, patron privacy rules. Finding her DNA could take months in what was essentially a human Petri dish.

Usually he didn't find any fault in that, but at the moment with no picture of her, and the image already distorted by the club's darkness, it didn't serve him. Still, he'd be able to identify her if she was close. Her eyes were unique enough that he could never picture them on another face. The problem was searching.

Like he predicted she had kept her mouth shut. He originally searched for any new articles on Black Blade written by African American women in the New York area, but found none. He thought about extending his search to Jersey, but she seemed like a local, so decided not to. With the bad press on Black Blade he could understand why the article could have been withheld. So instead he checked for journalists who wrote about clubs. He found everyone from a woman named Martha who gave instruction on how to sneak weed into a club, to Josephine who found clubs to be hideous in the sight of God. Narrowing had taken time, but by the time he had sifted through the crap, he had about 20 businesses.

Those had been the few that had no pictures. Two of the names were Ruth, just for argument's sake. He frowned looking down the long list of names. This bothered him. Usually he was a patient man, but as of late his patience was wearing thin. He had even added in a name with 11% probability. A woman or effeminate man under the name Dolores. It had stuck out as very odd among the others.

He ran a hand through his hair. He needed a new tactic, a faster one. He needed to draw her out.