“And now the entire house is yours.”
“I suppose,” she shrugged. A curious far away look appeared in her eyes, as she deftly used the hefty pair of garden trimmers to shape the hedge.
Even as Jane was privately musing, Leslie noted how the woman stared at her chest, where her blouse opened to show the deep cleavage. Rosalie would be proud, though this was hardly the woman she expected to attract. “You have a reputation,” Leslie prodded gently.
“As a Domme? Is that what you’re referring to? I don’t hide that. Part of my life, but I play my games in a local club, not here.”
“Felicia was tied to her bed when she was murdered. Signs of a ‘scene’, that’s what you call it, whip marks on her body. The ropes, the knots, it all looked very professional.”
“Like I did it?” Jane said smirkin
