Chapter One

“Way to go, girl,” Officer Melanie Sachs applauded her fellow rookie colleague inside the women’s locker room of the Las Vegas Metro police precinct in downtown Vegas.

“Thanks,” Officer Bethany Shaw, or Beth to her friends, replied as she opened her locker and pulled out the hair band that kept her dark brunette locks firmly in place behind her hair. Shaking her head, those strands of hair framed her cute face.

Melanie and Beth had progressed through the academy simultaneously. They were elated when they were recruited to the same precinct early last year. They had both started off as beat cops across Fremont Street before Beth’s connections led her to the investigation and subsequent arrest of a prominent lawyer for tax evasion.

That charge had recently led to the lawyer’s conviction, and Beth had spent the day accepting the deserved plaudits from her colleagues. “Give it a few years, and you’ll be as revered as your dad is in this town,” Melanie told her friend.

Beth flicked a stray hair from her face and smiled. Her last name was treated as royalty in the LVPD ecosystem, all because of an arrest her father made over thirty years ago.

Since gambling was legalized in Nevada in the 1930s, the small desert settlement of Las Vegas began to attract the attention of organized crime. Various syndicates began investing in casinos, helping Vegas grow into the cosmopolitan city it is today. Mob activity thrived in the 1960s and 1970s until the FBI and Nevada Gaming Commission began cracking down on their businesses, leading to significant prosecutions and convictions.

By the mid-1980s, stricter regulations in the city severely reduced the influence criminal organizations once held. However, it proved trickier to rid the Strip of its final stubborn mob-controlled businesses. Those infamous gangsters who remained had gotten smarter and knew how to evade the authorities’ grasp.

The final elusive mobster was a man named ‘Lucky’ Luca Bellini, who had been operating in the shadows of the shady activities inside the desert town. Throughout their investigation, the FBI and LVPD had heard stories of Lucky’s criminal activity. Still, they had never come closer to catching the man, or even meeting him in the flesh.

That all ended in 1994, when an ambitious young detective named John Shaw completed a five-year deep undercover operation, with the arrest and conviction of the last mobster in town. The arrest was heralded as the moment the mob had relinquished control of the city, and John Shaw was paraded as a hero and the face of a new, clean Vegas.

Beth softly bit her lower lip. With her father receiving the ceremonial keys to the city, it was inevitable that she would follow in his footsteps and join the same force that propelled her dad to stardom. The 21-year-old brunette was ambitious and fearless, and along with the knowledge her father had passed along to her, she was tipped to go far. However, she knew she needed to put in the work and start from the bottom. She’d never earn the respect of her colleagues if she were simply handed a fast-lane ticket to the top.

“You fancy going out for a drink after the debrief?” Melanie asked her friend.

Beth nodded. “Sounds good,” she replied. “I gotta head home and get changed. I’ll meet you at Finnigan’s at 8?”

Melanie smiled. Finnigan’s Bar was a historic pub in the Downtown district that was popular with law enforcement and their families. Due to its popularity with the cops, it had been targeted on multiple occasions, but it always found its way back. There was a framed photo of Beth and her father when she was just eight years old, on the day John Shaw was named Chief of Police.

As Melanie parted her lips to confirm, the locker room door opened, and Officer Lenny Havertz peered through the door nervously. “Officer Shaw,” he asked. “Sorry to disturb you ladies, but the captain had requested Beth’s presence in his office.”

“Me?” Beth asked. “What for?”

Lenny parted his lips but didn’t return a sound, shrugging his shoulders instead. “I imagine he wants to congratulate you as well,” Melanie chimed in.

Beth grinned and closed her locker. “Of course,” she replied. “I’m on my way.” The brunette placed her police cap back atop her head and glanced at herself, wearing the smart PD officer uniform. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll see you at Finnigan’s,” she told her blond friend before leaving the locker room and heading to her boss’ office.

❖

“Today must be a great personal day for you, Officer Shaw,” Captain Wesley Vance said to his young female rookie cop as she entered the office. “You are becoming a great asset to this force.”

“Yes, Sir,” Beth replied. “More importantly, I think it’s a great day for the city. Another white-collar criminal was thrown behind bars, all due to this precinct’s hard work.”

Captain Vance demonstrated a forced smile before returning to a more stoic, concerned expression. “What is it, Captain?” Beth noticed his look of worry and questioned him.

The police captain glanced around before slowly treading towards his office door. With an ominous click, the wide-set man locked the door shut. He peered through the window before lowering the blinds.

“Captain?” Officer Shaw repeated.

“The Texas Toymaker is in Las Vegas,” the captain declared gloomily.

Beth’s eyes widened. Surely she misheard her boss. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said. “I thought you said the…”

The captain didn’t allow his subordinate to finish her sentence and slammed three horrific photographs on the table between them. The images portrayed three blond, busty, life-sized dolls frozen in position inside a homemade doll box. They were dressed in provocative clubwear, and their faces were permanently contorted into vapid smiles.

“No…” The female cop gasped, staring at the three images.

The Texas Toymaker was the most famous and feared serial killer in the United States. Originating in Dallas, Texas, he was known for the kidnap and murder of multiple escorts around Texas and the Southeastern United States. If that wasn’t enough, it was what he did to his victims and their families after the murder that truly caught the media’s attention.

Once the Toymaker had kidnapped a prostitute, he tortured and interrogated her until she told him everything he wanted to know about her life. Once he put his victim out of her misery and ended her life, he preserved her with a plastic substance, creating a doll-like visage. After redressing her as a provocative whore and painting her face, he fastened the murdered victim inside a doll box and delivered her to someone in her life, whether it was a lover, a parent, or an ex she had wronged in the past.

“He’s never been known to venture this far west,” Beth reasoned, refusing to believe the evidence before her. “Are you sure it’s him?”

The captain solemnly nodded. Wesley picked the images back up and slipped them into an unmarked brown envelope. “So far, the evidence matches his exact MO. There is no doubt that he’s arrived in Sin City, and he’s not messing about.”

“So, what’s the plan, Captain?” Beth stared at her older, chubby boss. “Are you assigning me to the task force?” She knew this would be the most high-profile case she could ever dream of being a part of, and despite the dangers, she was eager to make a name for herself.

“I am,” he replied. “Though perhaps not in the way you expect.” Captain Vance broke eye contact and darted his eyes up and down, as though he was appraising her body beneath the blue cop uniform.

“We need to pursue this case carefully,” Wesley continued. “It’s well known that the killer ramps up his attacks whenever he feels the authorities are closing in on him. We cannot risk word getting out. That would put the working girls at risk and elicit panic amongst the public.”

Beth opened her mouth to respond, but Captain Vance continued. “There is a court order forbidding the media from reporting on the attacks, and only six people have been fully briefed on the operation.” He paused momentarily. “Well, seven now.”

“And why have I been informed, Sir?” Beth finally asked the only question that mattered.

“Good question, Officer,” Captain Vance paused. “We have launched a highly secretive, highly dangerous operation, and we have selected you to take the lead.”

“The lead, Sir?” Officer Shaw’s bright blue eyes widened. This could be her big break. “I’m in!” She declared eagerly without hearing the plan first.

The older captain let out a subtle grin. “Hold your horses,” he warned her. “This may be the most important case you’ll ever be involved in.”

Beth nervously bit her lower lip. “You’re right, Sir,” she held back her eagerness. “What do you need from me?”

“That’s better,” Captain Vance smiled. Beth’s boss began pacing back and forth inside his office. “Everything the authorities have tried in the past has failed,” he said solemnly. “We need someone on the inside. We need an officer in the thick of the action. We believe it’s the only way to track his patterns and find the son of a bitch before he strikes again.”

Beth swallowed nervously. She had never seen the captain address her so directly. “We have coordinated with the head of the Vice squad and received judicial permission to launch a high-risk undercover operation.” Captain Vance halted his pacing. “We need a female officer to pose as a working girl and gain enough intel to stop the Toymaker. Unfortunately, our current female vice squad members have been with the force too long, and there is a risk they will be recognized; that’s where you come in.”

It took Beth an embarrassingly long time to put the pieces together before she gasped and shook her head. “You want me to pose as some tramp?” She gasped. “With all due respect, Sir. You’re crazy.”

Captain Vance lowered his head. “That’s an understandable reaction,” he empathized. “However, we don’t have many options, and the assignment has already been approved.”

“Seriously,” she spat back. “You want me to pretend like I’m some common whore? You can’t be serious, Sir. I’ll be a laughing stock.”

“Trust me, Officer,” the captain retorted. “This isn’t ideal for any of us, but it is the best chance we have to put this hideous killer away for good.” He rubbed the stray hairs on his chin. “This is a sealed case. No one will ever know about the details of your undercover work. However, they will know that you were the one to remove an infamous killer from our streets. Just think about what that will do for your career.”

It was clear that, despite Captain Vance’s assurances, Beth was still not on board with the assignment. “How about this,” he made one last concession. “Once this investigation has concluded, I promise you a promotion. You could be the youngest detective in LVPD history.”

Beth shuddered. All she ever wanted was to make a name for herself in the police force that made her father so famous. Becoming the youngest detective in history would surpass everything she ever thought possible.

“Okay,” the young officer reluctantly answered. “I’ll do it, Sir.”

The large captain suddenly relaxed. “Seriously? You will?” He asked in astonishment. “Great. We can’t thank you enough for your service and sacrifice, Officer Shaw.” He said.

“As I said, the investigation has been signed off by a State judge, and we are ready to start immediately.” The captain continued. “I’m sure you agree that every second counts in a time like this.”

“Of course, Captain,” Beth replied. “But aren’t you going to give me a mission briefing, a cover story, a new place to stay?” Her father had told her stories of his undercover exploits, and Beth knew exactly what they entailed.

Captain Vance grinned. “Of course,” he told the keen young officer. “However, due to the circumstances, this is a unique case. Even I’m not permitted to learn of your cover story or new residence. Your handler will brief you on this.”

The ambitious brunette raised an eyebrow. “Handler, Sir?” She knew what a handler was, but something felt wrong.

“Yes,” Wesley said, approaching his office door. “It would be too risky to assign an active cop to oversee the operation. Fortunately, we have a volunteer to repay his debt to the force.” The captain unlocked the door and opened it, inviting in an older gentleman before closing the door behind him.

“Bethany. Wow, how you’ve grown.” The masculine, gravelly voice ripped through the young officer’s soul.

“No way,” Beth stood flabbergasted. “Over my dead body!”

The man standing opposite her was Warren Skinner, her father’s former partner, until his ineptitude and corruption earned him 15 years in jail.

Former Detective Skinner was John Shaw’s right-hand man. He played an integral role in putting ‘Lucky’ Luca Bellini behind bars. However, he didn’t have the same photogenic, charismatic smile to earn him the same accolades as his partner, and he spent the next decade in his partner’s shadow.

Fifteen years of jealousy and bitterness led Warren to make some questionable life choices. He eventually conspired to hide the criminal activities of a prominent corrupt politician in return for some handsome compensation. Once he was discovered by Internal Affairs, his partner disavowed him, and he had the book thrown at him. He was sentenced to fifteen years in prison.

“This man is a criminal,” Beth exclaimed. “He let this city down. He let my father down.” Her eyebrows narrowed.

“Look,” Captain Vance tried to reason with the ferocious woman. “Mr Skinner has paid his debt to society, and despite our differences, he is looking to make amends.” Beth folded her arms. She didn’t look convinced. “Now, I can’t force you to work alongside Mr Skinner. However, if you refuse, it will become impossible for you to ever take the next step.”

Beth gasped. Was her boss threatening her? The man standing before her was a disgrace and a scab on the reputation of the force, and now they expected her to work with him. How could she trust someone who had no honor? She wanted to plead her case, but Wesley Vance made it clear he wasn’t playing around. “Okay, fine,” she said, lowering her head in defeat.

The captain clapped his hands together. “I’m glad we’re in agreement,” he told the young officer. “Mr Skinner will drive you to your temporary home and brief you once you arrive. Thank you for your service, Officer, and good luck.”

The large man saluted his rookie subordinate. Beth, however, simply shook her head and brushed past the disgraced former cop, and left the office. Warren Skinner gave the captain a knowing look before following the woman out of the room. Captain Vance smiled nervously as he stared at the two disappear down the precinct corridor.

❖

“You’re joking, right?” A bemused Bethany Shaw studied the trashy motel room she suddenly found herself in. She knew she wouldn’t spend the next few weeks living in luxury, but she hadn’t quite prepared for how ‘authentic’ her undercover life would be.

Warren had booked a room in the Desert Inn. It was located near the airport south of the Strip, just ten minutes from an area popular with solicitation. Because of its proximity to Vegas’ unofficial red light district, the motel was often nicknamed Hooker Hotel.

“You really expect me to live here?” she dryly asked her hated handler, tugging at the hem of her strapless red crop top.

“What did you expect?” He replied. “Did you think you would end the day at a fancy house? Are you trying to get discovered already?”

Beth narrowed her eyes. His rhetorical questions irritated her, but they made sense. “Why does it have to be this disgusting?” She questioned. “I saw a nice Days Inn just a few blocks away.”

Warren chuckled and approached her. “Think of it as motivation to catch that killer and return to your old life.” He reached into his pocket and handed the undercover officer an A4 sheet of paper. “This is your new identity. Learn it quickly and burn the evidence.”

The brunette snatched the paper from him and began reading. Her pretty blue eyes immediately bulged out of her head. “Bella Horton?” She asked, referring to her given fake identity. However, that wasn’t what made her scoff. “But my clients call me Bambi.” She glanced at the former detective. “Do I look like a damn Bambi to you?”

Warren grinned. “I don’t know,” he retorted. “What does Bambi usually look like?” It felt as though he was enjoying her anguish.

Beth rolled her eyes and continued reading. “Wait, this says that you’re my pimp?” She says incredulously. “This is some unfunny prank, right?”

Warren laughed and ran his hand through his dark, graying hair. “How else can we be seen together in public without raising suspicion,” he asked matter-of-factly. “You realize that you’re going undercover as a whore, right?”

The brunette cop shuddered at his words. She knew exactly what her mission was, but hearing him lay it out for her so crudely was like a dagger in her chest. “Bella’s biological father left before she was born. She grew up with a string of no-good stepdaddies until her mother met Mike Mallone.” Beth rolled her eyes. “Bella dropped out of school at a young age and began selling her body when her mother demanded she start paying rent.”

Beth sighed as she continued reading. “After Bella’s mother died from an overdose, Mike promised to look after her but soon put her to work on the Vegas streets.” She shuddered. “Geez, what the hell is wrong with you? This sounds like the plot of a sick fantasy porno.”

Warren laughed before Beth finished the backstory. “Bella is naturally submissive and listens to her stepfather. She calls him ‘Daddy’.” The brunette scowled at the grinning older man. “Daddy? The day I ever call you Daddy will be the day hell freezes over!” She snapped.

The former detective chuckled again. “Well, we’ll see.” He folded his arms. “I’ve moved into a townhouse on Gilespie Street. It’s just five minutes away and will serve as your safehouse should you ever need it. It’s just you and I, kid. You best get used to it.”

Beth shook her head and turned away from the disgraced former cop. “You know, you really should heed my advice if you want to survive out here.” He warned her. “We are dealing with a cold-blooded killer, and you are about to walk right into his crosshair.” He paused momentarily before continuing. “Right now, I can see a cop from a mile away. If you want to blend in, you’ll need to change your attitude, your look, your body language…”

“Shut up!” Beth turned and halted Warren’s monologue. “You are a convicted criminal. A lowlife who disgraced the reputation of the force and my family. My father trusted you!” She spat out. “I know exactly what I’m doing, and I don’t need your help!”

Warren immediately held his hands up and paced back toward the motel room door. “Okay, have it your way,” he told the young rookie, noticing her clenched fists. “Play it your way. But you know where I am if you ever need my help.” He opened the door and exited the room, leaving the undercover cop to fend for herself.

❖

Beth tottered unsteadily down the sidewalk toward her targeted corner. She knew she could have spent the first couple of days studying the evidence and familiarizing herself with her surroundings. However, Beth had never been one for concise planning and figured the best way to start was to get to work and ask questions on Hooker Street corner.

Her high heels weren’t the tallest, but the undercover cop wasn’t used to wearing heels of any size, and the 4” black stilettos were giving her trouble along the concrete pavement. She wore her sluttiest club attire, with a light blue pushup crop top, bearing her shoulders and navel to the world and emphasizing her C-cup breasts, along with a pair of tight blue leggings, showing off the curve of her ass and her toned, slim legs. The outfit was perhaps not the most traditional streetwalker wear, but it was the best she had.

It was only 9 PM, and only two women occupied the infamous street corner. Prostitution was illegal in Las Vegas, and most areas of the city had a zero-tolerance policy on solicitation. However, the area near the airport was a bit of a blind spot for the force, with the local precinct focusing on more serious crimes.

The two women didn’t pay Beth any mind until they noticed her stop on the corner. “You lost?” the blond hooker asked. Her redheaded companion chuckled.

Beth shook her head, and her red-painted lips parted. “No, I’m exactly where I want to be,” she said defiantly. She knew she needed to have a strong personality if she was going to survive in this environment.

“Fair enough,” the blond remarked. “Just don’t step on my toes.” She warned the sexily clad undercover cop. “You look real pretty,” she complimented the brunette.

“What’s your name?” Beth asked.

“I’m Sweetlips,” the woman grinned, “and that’s Ginger. You know, because she’s ginger.” The redhead giggled at Sweetlips’ words. “And you are?”

“Bel- umm, Bambi,” Beth stuttered. The blond raised an eyebrow at Beth’s slip-up but didn’t push further.

“Soo, umm,” Beth continued after an awkward moment of silence. “Notice anything strange around here recently?” She asked directly.

Sweetlips placed her hands on her hips. It was a strange question for a fellow escort to ask, especially one she hadn’t ever seen before. However, before the blond could answer, the three women heard the honking of a nearby SUV.

“Hey, you! The one with that fine ass,” the driver rolled his windows down and shouted at Beth. “Get over here.”

Beth glanced at the other two, but they nodded at her expectantly. Nervously, she turned to the vehicle and tottered up to the window.

“Hey, sexy, you look fine,” he said arrogantly. “You don’t look like the cheap whores I usually find on this corner. How much for a piece of your pussy?”

Beth shuddered. The potential john spoke so directly, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. She had no intention of actually selling her body. “Uhmm… m-my pussy? That’s not for sale, but I could give you a handjob?” She said nervously.

“A handjob?” The man shouted in disbelief. “Do I look fifteen to you? Stop messing, baby,” he replied. “Get in the car and show me a good time.”

The undercover cop swallowed hard. “No, seriously, I’m not offering that.” She tried to reason with him.

“Bitch, are you trying to waste my time?” His tone shifted.

“N-no,” she said, taken by surprise. But before she could save the situation, the man had rewound the window up and driven off.

Dejected, the brunette returned to the two hookers. “So, you’re a cop, eh?” Sweetlips asked directly.

Beth’s eyes widened, and she felt a chill run down her spine. Had she blown it already? “W-what? A cop? I’m not a damn cop,” she tried to argue.

“Please, girl,” the blond hooker grinned. “You have ‘cop’ tattooed on your forehead. It’s so damn obvious.” She laughed.

“But I’m not a-” Beth continued, interrupted by a gorgeous black Porsche pulling up beside the trio. The blond waved in the direction of the vehicle. “W-who’s that?” Beth asked.

“Ohh, that’s just my manager,” Sweetlips said gleefully, sensually teetering towards the sports car. A large black man wearing a white vest and blue denim jeans exited the vehicle and hugged the approaching hooker.

Beth stood anxiously and watched the pair converse, although she couldn’t hear them. A chill ran through her body when the man stared back at her, a stoic, pissed-off expression etched over his face. The whore thought Beth was a cop. Had she told her ‘manager’ the same thing?

Suddenly, the man began walking in Beth’s direction, but the undercover cop wasn’t convinced he wanted a friendly chat. Making a decision, the brunette turned around and raced unsteadily away from the situation. She was well trained in self-defense techniques but wasn’t sure she could overpower a 200 lbs musclebound man, especially dressed as she was. Fortunately for her, the black man stopped pursuing Beth when she crossed the road.

Dejected, Beth solemnly walked along the sidewalk with her heels in her hands. She ducked as she heard the crashing boom of nearby thunder. Against her better judgment, she knew what she needed to do.

❖

The warm fire cackled soothingly in the cozy fireplace of the small off-strip townhouse, and Warren Skinner glanced at the pouring rain outside a nearby window before returning to his book. The storm outside spread across the desert city with little warning. He knew the rain would pass shortly. It was never wet for long in Vegas.

He raised an eyebrow when he heard a faint knock at his door. Grabbing the pistol from a nearby drawer and hiding it down the back of his pants, he approached the unknown figure at his front door. If it was those damn Jehovah’s Witnesses again, he might actually need to use the gun, he thought.

He spied through the peephole and grinned when he saw the young cop waiting for him to answer. He cautiously opened the door and smiled at the woman. She was drenched from head to toe, obviously caught up in the storm. She was wearing a wet red boobtube crop top and blue leggings. Not exactly what he would call slutwear, but more appealing than the outfit she wore earlier. “Beth? What do I owe the pleasure?” He asked smugly.

Beth narrowed her eyes. He was gloating. “I’m going to take that help you offered,” she said before attempting to enter the warm safe house, but Warren stood in her way.

“I’m sorry. Was that a demand or a request?” He asked her.

Beth groaned. The bastard was not going to make this easy for her. “Please, can you help me?”

“Much better,” the former detective said condescendingly. Beth tried to enter, but Warren stood in her way again. “Now, try that again, but refer to me the way Bella usually refers to her stepfather.”

“You can’t be serious!” Beth exclaimed, but Warren stood before her with his arms folded, blocking her way inside.

She sighed before lowering her head. “Please, may you help me, Daddy.”

Warren smiled widely. “Well, I guess hell just froze over,” he joked before stepping aside, allowing the soaking-wet woman inside. “Come on in and dry off. We have a lot of work to do.”

Beth rushed inside, and the older former detective followed her. He grinned behind her back. This case may have serious consequences, but he was going to make sure he had a little fun along the way.

End of Chapter One