Justice in the Shadows (13 page)

“Yeah,” Watts agreed dispiritedly. “I hear you. Man, I hate to think it’s him, though. Not like I love the guy or anything, but still…”

“He’s one of us.”

“Yeah.” Watts looked out the window. “Where we goin’?”

“We’ve got a date with some girls.”

His eyebrows raised. His voice sounded hopeful. “Yeah?” At the look from Rebecca, he swallowed his grin. “That cute little whore come through for you?”

“Sandy,” Rebecca said very softly. “Her name is Sandy.”

The warning note that resonated in her voice made his gonads tighten, pull up, and run for cover. “Okay. So, she’s yours now. Got it. Sorry.”

“Sandy found us
a
girl. I don’t know if it’s
the
girl. We’re going to buy them breakfast and find out.”

“Workin’ girls and a double date. My favorite.”

Rebecca ground her teeth and pulled into an angled slot in front of the Melrose Diner. “You sit.
I
talk.”

“Sure, sure, Sarge.”

Once inside the crowded noisy diner, they found Sandy and a smooth-faced Asian girl who looked about fifteen seated on one side of a red vinyl-covered booth. Watts slid in first, then Rebecca. A waitress stopped with a coffee pot in hand and said, “What youse havin’?”

Both girls ordered meals that would give a truck driver pause. Watts and Rebecca ordered coffee.

“Hiya, Sandy,” Rebecca said softly, just a touch of menace in her tone. “This Lucy?”

“Yeah.” Sandy sounded sullen and did not look Rebecca in the eye. It was important for Sandy’s safety as well as her future credibility that she
not
appear to have a friendly relationship with the police. “So we’re here. You promised you’d pay.”

“Later.
If
we like what you have to say.” Rebecca was impressed that Sandy had gotten the girl to agree to a meet. “If we don’t, you miss dinner and I’ll be dropping around when you least expect it to ruin business for a while.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sandy shifted on the seat, clearly unhappy. “So ask, then leave us alone.”

The girl with Sandy had kept her eyes on the tabletop the entire time. Rebecca slid Jason’s composite of the guy in the sex video into her line of view. “Know him?”

The girl shook her head no.

“You sure?”

Head nod.

“Ever
seen
him?” Watts grumbled.

The girl shrugged.

Rebecca’s pulse jumped.
Good man.
Rebecca slid a folded twenty across the table and under the photo. “Where?”

“Around the clubs,” the girl replied after a pause. She had no accent and her voice was soft, gentle. “He drives.”

“Drives?” Rebecca glanced at Sandy, who made an
I don’t know
gesture. “What does that mean?”

“He brings some of the girls to the clubs.”

“Some of the dancers?”

Head nod.

“Do they just dance? Or do they hook, too?”

“Maybe.”

“Where? Which clubs?”

A shrug.

Rebecca passed another twenty. She didn’t think the girl was holding out for more money. She was scared. “Which clubs?”

“I don’t know…I haven’t seen him in a while. Maybe the Blue Diamond—”

“The place on Delaware Avenue?” Watts asked.

She nodded.

“Where else?”

Shrug. “Ziggies once. I don’t know.”

“What’s his name?”

Negative head shake.

“Okay,” Rebecca said. She passed the photos of the two girls who had been in the video with him. “How about them?”

The young girl stiffened.

Bingo.

“Fifty dollars,” Rebecca whispered.
Come on. Help me.

A trembling finger landed on the Asian girl’s photo. “She used to dance at the Blue Di. Maybe she still does.”

“Name?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice was almost transparent now. Her dark hair framed a face both guileless and world-weary. She raised liquid eyes to Rebecca’s. “Her stage name was Trudy.”

“What about the other one?”

“No.”

“No you don’t know her?”

“She just said that, Frye,” Sandy interjected, sensing Lucy was about to bolt. “Jesus. You got your money’s worth. Leave us alone so we can enjoy the food. You and Bluto there kinda spoil the appetite.”

Rebecca folded a fifty dollar bill around her card. As she slid that across the table under the rim of Lucy’s plate, she said quietly, “I can take you to a shelter where you can get a new name, a new start.”

A head shake. Definite.
No.

“You need help—any kind of help, call me.” Rebecca gave Sandy a hard stare. “You—keep your nose clean. And keep your ass out of the alleys.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sandy snorted with a kiss-my-ass attitude and turned her attention to her breakfast.

Rebecca and Watts left, handing the waitress money for the check on the way out the door.

“Did we just get anything?” Watts asked as he crammed himself into the Vette.

“I don’t know,” Rebecca mused, heading north out of South Philly towards Sloan’s. She looked at Watts speculatively. “Have you ever heard of prostitutes having
escorts?
“

“Nope—pimps might cruise around checking up on their stables, but they don’t drive the girls to work.”

“Sex videos, Internet porn rings, girls being shuttled around to sex clubs.” She shook her head. “What does that sound like to you?”

“Organized?”

“Definitely that and—” Her phone rang and she pulled it from her belt. “Yeah, Frye…okay, fine…on our way.”

“What’s up?” Watts asked.

“Sloan’s awake, and she wants to talk to me.”

“Huh. You gonna chew her ass?”

“The thought has crossed my mind.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” he said, laughing. “Can I watch?”

Rebecca eyed him flatly. “Gee,
Bluto,
I don’t know about that.”

When Sloan opened the door, Rebecca stood still on the threshold, taking stock. The security consultant looked like a different woman than a few hours before. Her eyes were clear and bore barely a hint of shadow.

“Thanks for coming.” Sloan stepped aside with a sweep of her arm, bidding entry. “Please.”

What caught Rebecca’s attention almost immediately was the exquisitely beautiful woman seated on the sofa in the central living area. Her classically elegant features were scarcely marred by the bruises and obvious swelling. There was pain swimming in her deep blue eyes, however, and it hurt Rebecca on some basic, instinctual level to see it.

“Detective Sergeant Frye, my partner, Michael Lassiter.”

“Rebecca,” Rebecca said, walking forward to offer her hand. “Hello.”

“I’m so happy to meet you,” Michael said, smiling into the arctic blue eyes.

“I’m glad to see that you’re better,” Rebecca replied.

“Yes, thank you.” Michael glanced at Sloan, who stood quietly to one side. “It was my idea that you come upstairs. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Rebecca smiled. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Other than keeping my impetuous lover out of harm’s way?” Michael ignored a slight groan from Sloan’s direction, smiling softly. “You can accept an invitation from Sloan and me for you and Catherine to join us for dinner when I’m a bit more worthy of company.”

“I’d be delighted to accept for both of us.” Rebecca was surprised to realize that she’d have a hard time denying this woman anything. “As to Sloan, that’s another story. She’s a little independent.”

Michael nodded carefully. “I won’t argue. I won’t even mention extenuating circumstances of which you’re well aware. So, I’m going to leave you two to sort that out.”

Sloan moved forward quickly to help Michael rise. Slipping an arm around her lover’s waist, subtly supporting her, she glanced at Rebecca. “I’ll be right back.”

When Sloan rejoined her, Rebecca waited for Sloan to make the first move. It wasn’t what she expected.

“Sorry if that put you on the spot,” Sloan said quietly. “Michael is having trouble remembering things, and—”

“You don’t need to explain. Seeing her like that…it makes
me
want to put a gun to someone’s head.” Before Sloan could reply, Rebecca added, “But I won’t.”

“Neither will I.”

“You’re too close to this one. I knew it from the beginning and I let it slide. That was
my
mistake.” Rebecca fixed Sloan with an unyielding stare. “But
you
blew it last night. You should have called me as soo—”

“I know. I was wrong. I apologize.”

Rebecca nodded slightly, accepting the apology. “The fact remains, I don’t know that you won’t decide the investigation is moving too slowly and take matters into your own hands.”

“I won’t.” Sloan’s face tightened and a muscle in her jaw jumped. “I won’t because it would hurt Michael.”

Rebecca considered it. Considered what she had seen of Sloan’s condition when Michael had been injured. Considered the effect that love, no, not just love—bone-deep need—had had on her own life since meeting Catherine. She blew out a breath. “Your word on it.”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Watts will be deeply disappointed.”

Sloan raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“He was hoping for a royal ass-chewing.”

“You can always fake it,” Sloan suggested with a laugh.

“Nah. He’d enjoy it too much.”

———

When Rebecca and Sloan walked into the conference room together, Watts craned his neck and examined Sloan from head to toe. “I don’t see any bite marks.”

“They’re there,” Sloan said quietly in passing.

Watts smiled, satisfied.

Rebecca settled into a chair at the head of the table. “Okay, Sloan. It’s your show.”

“I found a back door in Flanagan’s computer,” she said. “In simple terms, that’s a secret way into a system unknown to the user. Depending on the level of access, the intruder can remove, alter, or delete files.
This
user had root access.”

“That’s good?” Watts asked sharply, hating the way these discussions left him feeling like a rookie again.

Sloan shook her head. “That’s bad. At least for the person whose system has been compromised. It means that the intruder can do just about anything to the data and then alter the logs so that it’s impossible to see what he, or she, has done.”

“And you identified him?” Rebecca asked.

Sloan nodded. “I tracked the log-on data back to Henry.”

“Can you
prove
it’s him from what you have?” Rebecca asked sharply.

“Not yet,” Sloan admitted. “I need to go back tonight. I need to look at what Henry’s been doing. With the information I have, I can easily access his files.”

“Do it,” Rebecca said immediately. “In the meantime, we work the other angles. Sandy nabbed us a solid lead—a dancer who might be our video girl. Watts and I will look for her.” She turned to Mitchell. “I need you in those clubs, as soon as possible. We’re looking for information on an escort service that might be transporting girls to the clubs—to perform, to hook, we’re not sure. That and any word you can get for us on the video shoots.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rebecca looked at Jason. “What kind of cover story are you going to use?”

“There is a big drag scene in DC. A place called Club Chaos on Dupont Circle is the heart of the drag king scene, and Jasmine performed with some of them there a couple of times.” Jason looked at Mitchell. “I thought we could put Mitch out as having been a bouncer at the club. That way, he won’t be expected to perform.”

Rebecca stood. “Okay. Anything breaks, I want to know.” She purposefully did not look at Sloan. “Anything.” Then she turned to Watts. “I need a couple of hours, then let’s cruise the clubs down on Delaware.”

“Sure, Sarge.” He heaved himself to his feet. “Sounds like my kinda night duty.”

———

Mitchell, sweating and swearing under her breath, humped the mattress up another few stairs. She looked out from under the leading edge, which was balanced on her back, at the open-toed, stack-heeled shoes and skin tight black slacks of someone standing on the third floor landing.
Nice toes.
Craning her neck, she looked up the length of the very sexy body into laughing eyes.
Totally nice everything.
Her legs got shaky and it wasn’t from the effort of carrying the mattress.

“Hiya, Sandy.”

“Hi, Dell. Whatcha doin’?”

“Moving in.”

Sandy eased down a step on the narrow staircase, grabbed one side of the mattress, and lifted. Together they dragged it the rest of the way down the dim hall and dumped it unceremoniously into the middle of the empty living room of Dell’s studio apartment.

“This is pathetic,” Sandy observed, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“I get a hot plate in here—it will be fine.” Mitchell couldn’t look anywhere but at Sandy, so bright-eyed and fresh and oh-so-hotsexykissable…Mitchell jerked at the warm touch on her hand.

“Uh-huh.” Sandy took Mitchell’s arm and tugged. “Come on. You can shower at my place.”

“I gotta go to work.”

“So do I. Come
on.
“

Once inside the apartment, Sandy closed the door and put both arms around Mitchell’s waist beneath her leather jacket. “I thought you’d
never
show up.”

Then, Sandy pressed full-body against the startled cop and kissed her, taking her time, working her way over the surface of Mitchell’s lips before slipping her tongue between them and exploring. By the time she was inside Mitchell’s mouth, sucking slowly on her tongue, Mitchell had walked them across the room to the sofa, and they fell onto it in a jumble of arms and legs. Mitchell groaned as Sandy’s hand slid up the inside of her leg and cupped her through the jeans. Sandy moaned as fingers found her nipple through the thin material of her top.

“Sandy,” Mitchell gasped. “Jesus, you’re making me crazy with that.”

“Yeah. Me, too. Do something about it, will ya?”

Do something about it, will ya? Do something…
Something inside snapped. Mitchell stood abruptly on shaking legs, stripped off her jacket, and threw it behind her. Then she reached down for the bottom of Sandy’s top, curled her fingers in the thin fabric, and dragged it up and off. Swiftly, she knelt before the sofa and, with one arm around Sandy’s waist, pulled the startled young woman toward her, forcing Sandy to spread her legs on either side of Mitchell’s body. Tight between Sandy’s open thighs, Mitchell leaned forward and put her mouth to Sandy’s breast, closing around the nipple with her teeth as she caught and squeezed the other between her fingers.