Justice in the Shadows (12 page)

Mitchell groaned and captured the other breast in her hand. Sandy arched upward on extended arms, pressing her breasts harder into Mitchell palms. As Mitchell rolled and tugged her nipples, Sandy began to shiver, her hips moving insistently against Mitchell’s thigh.

“Stop,” Sandy gasped abruptly. “Dell, stop.”

Immediately, Mitchell stilled, her entire body rigid. Her voice was hoarse with tension and arousal. “What? Sandy, what? Did I hurt you?”

Sandy lowered herself against Mitchell’s body and pressed her face to Mitchell’s neck. She was trembling.

Mitchell caressed her back, rocking her gently in her arms. “Hey. Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sandy mumbled, her fingers tracing the curve of Mitchell’s jaw. She kissed the side of Mitchell’s neck, then the corner of her mouth.

Mitchell worked to stay focused through the mists of arousal. “Sandy? Come on. Help me out here.”

“I’ve never come with anyone touching me before.”

Mitchell’s eyes darkened; her breath stuttered to a stop. She eased onto her side, keeping Sandy in her arms. Their heads rested close together on the pillow, their breasts and thighs lightly touching. “Do you want to?”

“I almost did, and then…” Sandy turned her face away.

Mitchell tapped a finger on Sandy’s chin. “And then?”

“I got scared.”

“Ah, babe.” Mitchell kissed Sandy gently. “I want what
you
want. You tell me.”

“I want to touch you.” Sandy drew a finger down the center of Mitchell’s body, resting her fingers in the dark triangle at the base of her abdomen. “I want to make you come.”

Mitchell moaned softly. “I want to touch you, too. So much.”

“I want you to,” Sandy whispered. She found Mitchell’s hand and pressed it between her own thighs. Her eyes flickered closed, then opened, the pupils wide and dark. “I don’t know if I can.”

Mitchell felt the heat, felt the hard shape of her desire, felt her tremble. “Anything you say…I’ll just stroke you a little, okay?”

“Yes. Yes.” Sandy slipped her fingers between Mitchell’s legs, squeezed lightly, and smiled when Mitchell gasped. When Mitchell mirrored the motion, she moaned. “Nice. Dell…that’s so nice.”

“Yeah.” Mitchell struggled not to come immediately.

“Dell,” Sandy breathed. Touching Mitchell made her so excited, she could barely discern what aroused her the most—Mitchell’s pleasure or her own. “Oh…you just got so hard.”

“I’m gonna come,” Mitchell gasped. She pressed her forehead to Sandy’s, groaning softly as she spasmed in Sandy’s palm, shuddering with the swift and merciful release of the tension in her depths. “Sandy. Sandy.”

“Oh, yeah.” Sandy watched in awe as Mitchell closed her eyes and arched her back, so beautiful. The sharp rise of her own orgasm took her by surprise and she cried out, every muscle clenching as it struck.

“Incredible,” Mitchell whispered. Her throat closed around sudden tears, and she swallowed hard. “You are so beautiful.”

“Yeah?” She still had her hand between Mitchell’s thighs. She pressed the base of the swollen clitoris, then stroked.

“Uh-huh.” Mitchell jerked, moaning softly.

“You’re doing that again.”

“What?” Mitchell’s voice was hoarse, her stomach tight.

“Getting really hard.”

“That’s cause…you’re making me come again. Ah…god.”

Sandy leaned up on an elbow, grinning. “Yeah?”

“Ye…” Mitchell choked on the word, coming too hard to do anything but fight for air. When the last ripple of orgasm faded, she fell back, gasping. “Thank you.”

Sandy’s smile of self-congratulation changed to an expression of astonishment. “Dell, Jesus. You’re nuts.”

Mitchell tried to focus and finally fixed on Sandy’s face. “Why?”

“Because…I
wanted
to be with you.” Sandy leaned near and kissed her. Long and deep and hard. “You got a girlfriend, rookie?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“I’m holding out for Mitch’s girl.”

Sandy laughed. “I don’t know, Dell.
Mitch
is fucking
hot.
“

“Uh-huh. I noticed you thought so.”

“Yeah, I did.” Sandy rolled over and straddled Mitchell’s hips, rubbing herself against the base of Mitchell’s belly. She was still wet and the fleeting friction against her erect clitoris made her groan. “But then, so are you.
Big time.
“

Mitchell reached for Sandy’s breasts, gently cupping them as she arched her hips, making Sandy bite her lower lip and close her eyes. “So I’ve got a chance?”

“We’ll see, rookie,” Sandy whispered. “We’ll see.”

Michael rested her palm against Sloan’s chest and smiled faintly. “You look awful. Take a shower and go to bed.”

A few minutes later, Sloan, naked and still damp, emerged from the bathroom.

“Come to bed.” Michael loosed her robe and slid under the sheets, stretching an arm out across the pillow.

Sloan lay down next to her, rested her cheek on Michael’s shoulder, and sighed. It had seemed so clear when she’d arrived outside Catian’s Henry’s house what she needed to do, but as time passed, she’d become confused and uncertain. She knew Michael wouldn’t want her to take matters into her own hands; Frye would know immediately it was her doing if anything happened to the guy; and, as she turned the automatic over and over in her hands, she had come to doubt that she could pull the trigger. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You didn’t worry me so much,” Michael replied, threading her fingers into Sloan’s thick, dark hair. “You scared me.”

“I’m really beat, baby,” Sloan murmured. “I fucked up last night. I…I’m not thinking right. I haven’t been right since you got hurt.”

“I know, love.” Michael kissed Sloan’s forehead. “Everything is going to be all right.
I’m
going to be all right. So are you.”

Sloan didn’t reply. She was already asleep.

Michael closed her eyes. They were together, and it was a start.

———

Mitchell stepped off the elevator at Sloan Security and hurried down the hallway toward the sound of voices. She was late. Way late. She thought about Sandy as she’d last seen her, lying naked, asleep in the midst of the tangled sheets. Feeling almost high, Mitchell grinned, knowing that she wouldn’t have changed anything about the last few hours.

“Sorry I’m late,” Mitchell said, her eyes on Rebecca.

Watts gave her a hard stare. “Late night out with the
boys,
Officer?”

“No, sir, I—”

“Did you get settled into the apartment?” Rebecca asked briskly.

“Yes, ma’am, I di—”

“Good. Sit down. We were in the middle of a briefing.”

Mitchell sat, her gaze forward.
What the hell has happened? And where is Sloan?

“Sloan thinks she’s nailed our leak. I want to be sure, because we’re going to have to concentrate all our resources on building a case against him if she’s right.” With a black marker, she wrote
Suspects
at the top of the blank board and underlined it. “Let’s go through them, one by one.”

Next she wrote
Police Dept
to the far left of the board. Beneath it, she wrote
Captain Henry—Special Crimes, Adams—Civilian Clerk-SC, Trish Marks—Homicide, Charlie Horton—Homicide
.

She moved over an inch and wrote
City Hall.
“Watts? Want to fill in the players?”

Watts pulled a tattered leather bound notebook from the inside of his brown suit jacket, flipped it open, and read dispassionately. “Two ADAs handled the warrant for the bust at LongJohn’s. That would be Margaret Campbell and…uh…George Beecher. The judge was Sally Marchamp.”

As he spoke, Rebecca added the names. With one more shift to her right, she headed the last column under
Suspects
with
Civilians.
Beneath that, she wrote
Whitaker
and
Rawlings
. When she turned, she met her lover’s gaze. Much as she’d expected, Catherine regarded her calmly, but there was a quizzical expression in her eyes.

Rebecca surveyed the room. “Who can we
absolutely
eliminate?”

Watts cleared his throat. “Marks and Horton. They got assigned the Cruz and Hogan hits on a random rotation, and they have no other connection to anyone in the case other than that.”

Rebecca knew that Watts was biased against the leak being a cop, but she tended to agree with him that Marks and Horton were low on the list. “Who else can go?”

“Dr. Rawlings,” Mitchell said clearly. She glanced briefly at Catherine, who smiled back. “I didn’t tell her anything about the detail—only that I was on it. I did not discuss the nature of the operation or the timing for the raid.”

“There was nothing in any of my notes or reports that specified what Officer Mitchell was involved in professionally at the time of our sessions,” Catherine advised quietly.

“Fair enough.” Rebecca crossed out Catherine’s name.

“If I might add,” Catherine said steadily, “I’ve known Rand Whitaker professionally for many years. Although anything is possible, I can’t see him being involved in anything nefarious.”

“He’s got a house in the Hampton’s, drives a vintage Ferrari, and owns a huge estate in Merion. He doesn’t get all that on what the PPD pays him as a consultant,” Jason pointed out.

“In addition to that, he’s got too many potential avenues of access to information within the department,” Rebecca said flatly. “He stays on the list until we get the in-depth financials, at least.”

“Adams, the clerk, was hired by the department
after
the information from Flanagan’s reports went missing. Since we’re assuming that the person who set up Sloan is also behind that, she can go,” Jason recommended.

“Agreed. We’re down to five, then,” Rebecca said to Jason. “You need to run the ADAs and the judge.” She took a deep breath. “And we need everything you can get on Captain Henry. As soon as Sloan is able, I want to talk to her. She’s going to have to give us a solid reason to go after him. He’s a ranking officer with a good rep.”

Jason took a breath and carefully did not look at Watts. “Henry’s credit cards are maxed out, he has a second mortgage on his house, and nothing showing in the way of assets. He’s borrowed against his retirement fund as well. Money could be a motive for him to turn.”

“Any indication of where his money is going?”

“No sign yet.” Jason kept his voice level. “I’ll have more tomorrow.”

“Make it today. I want all of you all over that suspect list. I want everything there is on every one of them, ASAP.” She explained about the possible connection between the Asian girl in the video and the prostitute named Lucy. “I’ve got a slim lead on one of the girls from LongJohn’s video, and I’ve got street sources looking for her.”

Mitchell stiffened.
Sandy.

“Mitchell, you with us?” Rebecca asked sharply.

Mitchell jerked upright. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rebecca gave her a hard stare. “Where do we stand on the inside action at Ziggies?”

Jason said, “Jasmine will take Mitch to the Troc tonight. Introduce him around. We should be good to go for him hitting Ziggies within a day or two.”

“Mitch? Who the hell is Mitch?” Watts barked. The mention of Jasmine set his teeth on edge.

“Friend of mine,” Mitchell replied evenly, meeting his gaze.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Watts appeared as if he wanted to say more but a deadly look from Rebecca had him coughing into his fist instead. “Right.
Mitchie.
“

Mitchell straightened in her seat, and she almost seemed to grow in size. Her alto voice resonated with warning. “That’s Mitch.
Not
Mitchie.
“

For a second, Watts just stared. Then the corner of his mouth twitched and finally, he grinned. “Okay, kid. Okay. Don’t get your…balls…in an uproar.”

“Wouldn’t think of it, Detective. Sir.”

Rebecca rubbed the bridge of her nose.
Christ. The two of them are like kids.
But she recognized the camaraderie beneath the jibes, and that’s what made the team work. That’s what made someone put their life on the line without a second thought. “We’re looking for any information on the guy in the sex video who might work or
have
worked at Ziggies, and any information that the girls there might have about how the videos are getting made. Who organizes it, who picks the girls, when and where they’re shooting the flicks. Anything to point us to a location. Questions?”

No one had any.

“We’ll meet here at the usual time tonight. If anyone gets anything before then, I’ll expect a call.
No one
makes a move without my say so.”

As the group dispersed, Watts sidled up to Mitchell. In a voice too low for Rebecca to hear, he asked, “So, kid—what’s the deal? When you walked in this morning, you had that ‘just got laid last night’ look.”

“Yeah?” Mitchell replied curiously. “How can you remember, considering how long it must have been since you’ve looked that way?”

Watts shook his head remorsefully. He had a hard-assed female partner who outranked him, which was bad enough, but now he had a snot-nosed rookie giving him shit. He laughed out loud.
Life is good.

Rebecca slumped into a chair and blew out a long breath. “Jesus, what a crew.”

“How are you doing?” Catherine pulled her own chair closer and rested her hand on Rebecca’s forearm.

“Okay.” Rebecca gave her a weary smile. “I feel a bit like I’m walking a tightrope without a net here, which I guess I am.” She rubbed her face. “I can’t believe it’s Henry. Or maybe I just don’t
want
to believe it.”

“Maybe it isn’t?”

Rebecca kissed Catherine, then drew away with a sigh. “I have to go. I’ve got a meet with a source.”

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing.
Catherine said nothing, because this is the life her lover led, but it frightened her none the less. As she watched Rebecca walk away, Catherine wondered if she would ever get used to it.

———

“Do you really think it’s Henry?” Watts asked when Rebecca pulled away from the curb, heading the Vette south on 10th.

“I don’t know. He’s in the right place. It’s got to be someone with rank.”