There hadn’t been any way to stop him from taking Irina back to the stash house in North Philadelphia, and once he pulled his motorcycle into the alley, they couldn’t get closer than a full block away or their vehicle would have been immediately visible to anyone watching. If anything had gone wrong they couldn’t have provided backup, and the frustration of being unable to protect one of her team ate at her.
“You think the Russians got someone watching that house?” Watts asked.
“If they’re not sure whether any girls got out during the raid,”
Rebecca said, “then it makes sense to watch the house. Where would girls like that go except back to the only place where they had shelter?
They don’t speak the language, they don’t know the city, they’d have no way of making money. They wouldn’t even be able to sell their bodies.”
“So the Russians have probably seen Mitch with her.”
Rebecca nodded, rolling forward again until they cruised through the intersection at the end of Mitch’s block. “That could turn out to be a good thing. It definitely helps establish their connection.”
“Unless they’ve decided Irina is a liability, or they think she got
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out of the building because she was the one who fingered them. Then they just might dispose of her, and anyone who might miss her.”
Rebecca parked and turned off the engine. Mitch’s motorcycle was pulled up onto the sidewalk in front of the building where he and Sandy lived. Settling into surveillance mode, Watts pulled a crumpled pack of Camels out of the inside pocket of his equally crumpled suit jacket and shook one out.
“There’s too much we don’t know,” he said. “The whole setup blows.”
“For once we agree.” Rebecca glanced over at him. “Not in the car.”
“Jesus, Loo, I’ve been in this sardine can half the night.”
“And just think how much cleaner your lungs are already.”
He snorted and stuck the pack back in his pocket. “You really think we’ll get close to the guys at the top using a bottom-level whore like Irina?”
“Irina isn’t a prostitute—and even if she was, that doesn’t make her unimportant.” Rebecca struggled not to jump down his throat, because she knew his crude disregard for just about everyone was often a substitute for concern. Of course, sometimes he really just didn’t give a damn. “How many women do you think there are like Irina? With enough English to deal with clientele and enough strength and smarts to handle a house full of girls and keep them from panicking or running away? My guess is they’re going to want her to set up housekeeping with a new bunch of girls as soon as possible.”
“It’ll be sweet if it works that way.”
“Yes,” Rebecca said, thinking of the million ways it could all go wrong. “Sweet all right.”
v
Irina turned in a half circle, surveying the room. “You live here?”
“I flop here sometimes.” That was stretching the truth by a lot.
Mitch kept the room as part of his cover but he’d never actually spent a night in it. He slept with Sandy, three doors down the hall. “There’s milk and bread in the refrigerator. And peanut butter in the cabinet.
That’s all I had time to get, but—”
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Irina laughed. “I know how to shop, unless you’re going to lock me in here.”
Mitch flushed. “I’m not your jailer. I know you probably don’t want to be doing this, and if you want to walk away, that’s between you and Clark.”
“And you won’t try to stop me?” Irina’s tone was incredulous.
“No.” Mitch indicated the mattress pushed into one corner of the small studio apartment. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any sheets, but there’s a blanket and the mattress is new.”
Irina sank down on the mattress and dragged the blue blanket around her shoulders.
Guiltily, Mitch said, “Why didn’t you tell me you were freezing?”
“Because I wasn’t. This…” Irina waved her hand toward the window. “This is not cold for me.”
Mitch shook his head. He wasn’t thinking the way he should be. “I should have given you my jacket while we were on the bike.”
“No matter. The cold will pass. But I am tired. I couldn’t sleep where your friends put me.”
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Mitch had no idea how far the feds would go to convince someone to flip on their associates. Probably pretty damn far since 9/11, especially when foreign nationals were involved.
“They tried to frighten me.” Irina shrugged. “I have known men who were better at it.”
Mitch didn’t doubt her. Why else would she have fled her country on just the word of strangers? “I’m going out. I won’t be back tonight, but I’ll bring coffee and something to eat in the morning. Then we can get this place into some kind of shape for you to stay here.”
Irina regarded him steadily. “You have someone.”
Mitch knew he probably shouldn’t talk about his personal life.
He definitely didn’t want Irina to know anything about Sandy. But he needed her to trust him, and trust meant taking a few risks. He nodded.
“Yes.”
“And this…girl? You like girls, yes?”
He nodded again.
“This girl, she doesn’t complain when you fuck other women?”
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Irina draped the blanket around her like a shawl and leaned back on her arms. Her breasts thrust forward, straining the buttons on her blouse.
Mitch sensed he was being tested, and he wasn’t certain what answers he should be giving. He remembered Frye saying once that the truth, or at least part of the truth, was often the best answer in a tough undercover situation. “She minds.”
Irina pulled the blanket closed over her breasts and curled on her side, resting her hand beneath her head as she pulled her knees up close to her body. “Were you going to fuck me, before the police came?”
“No,” Mitch said, sliding his hands into his pockets. His jeans tightened over his cock, and he felt the pressure through to his spine.
“But I wasn’t pretending, either. You’re…very hot.”
Irina’s eyes drifted down his body, lingering on his crotch. Mitch didn’t move, but he twitched in his jeans. “Go, new boy,” she said softly. “For tonight.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.” Mitch walked to the door, then looked back. “Do you have a picture of your sister?”
“Why?”
“Because it will help us find her if we know what she looks like.”
Irina shook her head. “No. The police will lock her away. Then I will never see her again.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“Even if I believed you, you are just one.” Irina folded her arms and pillowed her head, then closed her eyes.
Mitch returned, crouching down by the side of the mattress. “I’ll talk to some people. About protecting your sister, okay? Then will you let me see the picture?”
“Do you keep your promises, new boy?”
“Yes,” Mitch said.
Irina opened her eyes, searching his face. “Come back in the morning. Maybe we’ll talk.”
v
Sandy heard footsteps in the hallway and a shadow blocked out the sliver of light beneath the apartment door. She wrapped her arms around her bent legs and rested her chin on her knees, holding her breath until a key rasped in the lock. Mitch was backlit briefly in the square
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of light as the door opened, then his blade-like figure disappeared into darkness again.
“You can turn on the light,” Sandy said when she heard him bump into something.
“Jesus,” Mitch gasped. “It’s three in the morning. I thought you’d be asleep.”
“Not without you.”
“Didn’t you get my note?” Mitch fumbled on the dresser a few feet from the door and pulled the chain on the small lamp. He removed his jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall.
“Yeah, I got your message. What’s this shit about not coming back for a while? And where are your clothes?”
Mitch sprawled on the couch beside her and kicked off his boots.
“I’m going to be working a lot at night, so sometimes I might not make it home.”
“I get that. That happens sometimes. But something else is going on this time, isn’t it?”
Mitch stared at the ceiling. Frye hadn’t said not to tell her. “I’ve got this assignment. We’re going after the mob who are hooked up with the Russians.”
“I know that. Frye thinks with foreign girls out of the picture, all the action is going to swing back to the local girls again. I’ve been asking around. I think she’s right.” Sandy turned sideways on the couch and poked Mitch’s shoulder. “What’s your part?”
“One of the Russian girls flipped after she was arrested. I’m working with her.”
Sandy jumped to her feet and strode across the room, then spun around. “Working. Working as in what? Following her? What?”
Mitch sat forward, trying to stay calm. “We’re supposed to be a couple. So she can get me close to some of the guys in charge.”
“Perfect. It’s Irina, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Mitch didn’t see any point in denying it. Sandy knew Irina, or at least what she looked like. She’d seen Irina’s picture when she was screening porn videos for Frye, trying to identify the models.
She also knew that Mitch had had to get physical with Irina before.
Sandy stalked back to him, her eyes narrowed. “Where is she?”
“In my apartment down the hall.”
“Which is where you moved your clothes.”
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“I thought I better have a change of clothes there, just in case.”
Mitch waited, expecting an explosion. When it didn’t come, he really started to worry. “Look, I know you’re pissed off.”
“Is she there right now?”
Mitch nodded. “She’s going to be staying there for a while.”
“Why aren’t you there?”
“Because I’m here.” Mitch stood up suddenly and pulled Sandy into his arms. He couldn’t stand the distance between them any longer.
She felt stiff in his embrace, but she didn’t push away, and she would have if she’d been really, really pissed off. He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you earlier, but then we had a fight, and I didn’t have a chance.”
“I’m going to kill Frye,” Sandy whispered.
Mitch laughed. “Good. Better her than me.”
Sandy wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing tight to his body. “This is crazy, baby. She could get you hurt.”
“You’re worried about me?”
“Duh.” Sandy bounced her forehead against his shoulder. “She flipped on these guys, and she has to know they’ll kill her if they find out. So if it comes down to her or you, you think she’s going to stand by you? She’ll turn you over to them to save her ass.”
“How do you know that?”
Sandy was still for a long time. “Because that’s what I would do, if I were in her place.”
Mitch cupped Sandy’s chin and lifted her face. He kissed her and kept kissing her until she softened and molded into his body. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know what I’d do,” Sandy said, pulling his T-shirt from his pants. “I don’t want to talk about her. I don’t want to talk about Frye. I don’t want to talk about anything.” She unbuttoned the top of his jeans and yanked down the zipper. Then she reached inside and pulled out his cock. She dropped to her knees, her fist around him. She looked up. “I just want you.”
“Babe,” Mitch whispered, bracing his hands on her shoulders as his legs got suddenly weak. Her fist covered half the length of his cock, and as she took the head into her mouth, she pressed the shaft into his clit. He groaned, watching her through hooded eyes. She swallowed
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him, and while his head spun, his world steadied. Sandy owned him. “I need you, babe.”
“I know.” Sandy rubbed her face against his cock, then kissed the base of his belly. “Me too. Take off your shirt and the wrap. I want to touch you. I want to feel your heart beat while you fuck me.”
Dell ripped her T-shirt off over her head, then unstrapped her breasts. She dropped on her back on the sofa, her cock standing straight up between the vee of her jeans. She palmed it, circling the base slowly over her clit while she watched Sandy undress. She was already hard enough to come, and Sandy knew it. Sandy took her time undressing, her smile flickering as she watched Dell’s hand move.
“Ready, baby?” Sandy knelt on the edge of the sofa and Dell’s hips started to twist.
“Totally.” As Sandy climbed up over her, naked, vulnerable, her face filled with need, Dell felt humbled and unworthy. “I love you. I love you so damn much.”
“You better.” Sandy pushed Dell’s hand away and fisted her cock, seating the head between the folds of her sex. She hissed as she braced her other hand in the center of Dell’s chest. “You like being inside of me?”
“God, yes.”
Sandy gasped as she took an inch. “How much?”
“More than anything ever.”
“You like”—Sandy closed her eyes and shivered, tilting her pelvis to take the thick wide shaft. Her voice came out breathy and slow—
“coming in me?”
Dell gripped Sandy’s narrow hips, steadying her while she thrust carefully, stretching and filling her. She grunted sharply when Sandy’s weight abruptly settled on the full length of her, crushing her clit beneath the cock. “So much I’m going to explode any second.”
Sandy slapped Dell’s tense stomach sharply. “You better not, rookie. You’ve got work to do first.”
“Aw, babe—”
“Forget it,” Sandy gasped. “You’re lucky you’re getting any. Now shut up and fuck me.”
Laughing, Dell focused on Sandy’s face, sliding in and out a fraction of an inch at a time as Sandy set the pace. She loved making
• 113 •
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Sandy come even more than having her own mind-blowing orgasms, and concentrating on pleasing Sandy helped her last longer. She knew if she thought about how sweet it felt for even a few seconds she wouldn’t be able to hold back, so she just put everything she had into making Sandy feel good.
“Like it, babe?”
Sandy nodded, her eyes glassy. “Oh yeah.” She hugged her lower lip between her teeth and sagged forward, catching herself with both hands on Dell’s chest. She gripped Dell’s breasts, her fingers closing convulsively around Dell’s nipples as she pumped her hips harder and faster along Dell’s length.
“Oh, fuck.” Dell’s clit pulsed as Sandy tugged on her nipples. She felt the orgasm building, curling through her stomach and down her thighs. She clutched Sandy tighter and jerked up hard into her.
“Oh,” Sandy whimpered. “I’m gonna come on your cock. Okay?
Okay, baby?”
“Do it,” Dell panted, “do it…with me.”
Sandy’s head snapped back and she let out a long, keening wail and Dell exploded. She came so hard she thought her head would burst open. Maybe it did, because she was pretty sure she was blind, maybe paralyzed too.
Sandy lay like a dead weight across her chest, with Dell still inside her. All Dell could move was one hand, so she stroked the damp hair off Sandy’s face.
“Good, babe?”
“Awful,” Sandy mumbled. “Worst sex I ever had.”
Dell laughed. “Still mad?”
“Shut up, Dell. I’m thinking about coming again.”
“Okay,” Dell said quickly. “Okay, sure.”
Sandy pushed herself up on one elbow, looking soft and satisfied as she circled her pelvis lazily. “Tired?”
Dell shook her head vigorously.
“Liar.” Sandy nipped at Dell’s lip again, then sucked on her tongue, still slow pumping on her cock. “You’re going to see her in the morning, aren’t you?”
“Sandy.” Dell brushed her fingertips over Sandy’s breasts. “I love you.”
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“I got scared,” Sandy said breathlessly, “when I came home and you weren’t here.”
Dell wrapped her arms around Sandy’s waist and turned her gently onto her back, careful to stay inside her. She supported her body on her forearms and kissed Sandy, flexing her ass rhythmically, pumping in and out. When she sensed Sandy getting ready to come, she whispered,
“Look at me, babe.”
Sandy’s lids fluttered and she struggled to focus. “You’re making me come.”
“I’m always coming home,” Dell promised as Sandy clamped her heels tight around the backs of her thighs and bowed beneath her.
“Always.”
• 115 •
• 116 •
Justice for All
ChAPTER ELEvEN
After Watts dropped her off, Rebecca let herself quietly into the house and clicked off the porch light that Catherine had left burning. Another light shone dimly in the hallway and got brighter as she approached the bedroom. Frowning, she eased open the bedroom door and stepped inside. Catherine was propped up on the pillows, asleep with a book on her chest. Rebecca smiled when she recognized the name of a top-selling thriller. Six months ago, she wouldn’t have had any idea what that author wrote, but then a lot of things had changed in six months. She would still have been out on the streets at this time of night back then, roaming around in her personal vehicle on her own time, searching for something to fill the void in her life, in her heart. Now, for a few hours, she could leave all the death and depravity behind. In Catherine’s arms, she found not only peace, but completion. Moving silently, she crossed to the bed and eased the book from between Catherine’s fingers.
“It’s late,” she said when Catherine opened her eyes and smiled up at her. “Go back to sleep.”
She reached over to turn out the light, but Catherine grasped her wrist. “Leave it on until you come to bed. I like to watch you get undressed.”
“If you expect me to follow Ali’s instructions, you shouldn’t say things like that.” Rebecca sat on the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss Catherine on the mouth. When Catherine’s arms came around her neck, she pushed the sheets down and slipped her hand beneath Catherine’s silk top.
Catherine murmured, her nipple hardening as Rebecca’s fingertips
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brushed over it. “My God,” she said, pulling back breathlessly.
“Ambush. You just ambushed me.”
Rebecca grinned. “That wasn’t an ambush, it was just a greeting.”
Catherine placed her palm against Rebecca’s chest and held her away. “No more. I’m weak at the moment.” Her smile twisted fleetingly.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I feel fine. Never better.” Rebecca quickly undressed, all the while watching Catherine watching her. Then she hurried around to the other side of the bed and climbed under the sheets. Catherine rolled toward her, and Rebecca took her into her arms. Still, Catherine kept one hand braced against Rebecca’s chest, preventing their bodies from completely touching. Rebecca grumbled in frustration. “At least let me kiss you.”
“I can’t. I have no willpower where you’re concerned. If we start, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Good.”
Catherine brushed her fingers through Rebecca’s hair. “Darling, you look tired. It’s too soon for you to be working this many hours.”
“I was sitting in the car the entire time. It was deadly boring and Watts was enough to drive me crazy, but it wasn’t strenuous. I promise.”
“What were you doing?”
“Following Mitch. He met Irina tonight. First contact since the raid.”
“Did it go all right?”
“I don’t know. We’re stuck with visual surveillance only.” Rebecca almost snarled in frustration. “I can’t hear them, so I don’t know how well Mitch’s doing.”
“Is Dellon ready for this?”
“She’s got a knack for the work.” Rebecca rested her forehead against Catherine’s, slowly caressing her shoulders and her back. She hadn’t felt as relaxed all day, and miraculously, her fatigue seemed to drop away. “I think she’s solid.”
“But something is off, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve only got Clark’s report that Irina is really willing to go along with the double cross. And Clark probably doesn’t care about risking my people with a shaky informant.”
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Justice for All
“This young woman—Irina—she can’t have had much experience with this. She must be terrified.”
“She may never have done this before, but to have survived this long…” Rebecca shrugged. “To have even made it as far as this country means she’s strong and resourceful and smart. I just wish I had a better sense of whether we can trust her. I can’t even question her, because I don’t want her to know who Mitch’s backup is. That could compromise him down the road.”
“What if I talked to her?”
“No,” Rebecca said immediately. “I don’t want you involved.”
“I have an official position with the department,” Catherine said gently. “It would probably make sense to her that someone like me interviewed her. Besides, I don’t care how strong and resourceful she is, she’s got to be frightened. That can’t possibly be good for her and Mitch if they get into a difficult situation.”
“You’re using my weaknesses against me,” Rebecca muttered.
Catherine laughed softly. “How is that?”
“You know I’ll do anything I have to do to protect my people.”
Rebecca rolled Catherine onto her back and settled on top of her, one thigh between her legs. Leaning on a forearm, she brushed her thumb over Catherine’s chin. “I’d do anything except put you in danger.”
“I can hardly be in danger talking to someone in my office.”
“I’d rather you didn’t get anywhere near this operation.” Rebecca frowned. “I’m pretty much working in the dark.”
“Let me help shed some light.”
Rebecca kissed her. “You always do.”
Catherine’s eyes softened and she pushed her fingers into Rebecca’s hair, pulling her down for a kiss. When she released her, she murmured, “I love you. I want to help you, but it’s more than that. It’s my job too.”
“Maybe.” Rebecca sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Now you need some sleep.”
“What I really need is you.” Rebecca eased onto her side and Catherine curled into her body after switching out the light.
“You have me. And when Ali gives us the okay, I’ll show you just how much.”
“Promise?” Rebecca murmured as she felt herself slipping away.
“With all my heart.”
• 119 •
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v
Sloan didn’t remember falling asleep. She remembered undressing Michael by the side of the bed. She remembered sitting on the edge, still fully clothed, and Michael, nude, standing between her thighs. She’d caressed Michael’s breasts, her abdomen, her hips, the insides of her thighs while watching her face in the moonlight. After a while Michael had braced her hands on Sloan’s shoulders because her legs trembled.
Sloan hadn’t wanted to stop. She wanted to touch her everywhere, inside and out. She wanted to affirm that Michael was hers, and always would be. She slid her fingers between Michael’s thighs, stroking through her wetness, refusing to stop even when Michael warned her of what would happen, teasing relentlessly until Michael climaxed in her hand. She caught Michael as she collapsed and guided her into bed, cradling her until she fell asleep.
She hadn’t meant to sleep, but she must have, because now she was waking up. And Michael was touching her. Sloan sucked in a breath and opened her eyes. Michael was leaning over her, her blue eyes bright, her lips parted in an expression of anticipation. Groaning at the surge of pressure in the pit of her stomach, Sloan raised her head enough to see Michael’s hand moving between her legs. She had a grip on her clitoris and was slowly massaging her.
“Uh…Jesus.” Sloan collapsed back on the bed.
“Good morning,” Michael said, her voice silky and deep. She slid her fingers up and down a little faster.
Sloan made an unintelligible sound, and her eyes rolled back in her head.
Michael laughed softly. “I was going to tease you until you got all excited and woke up, but you were already hard when I touched you.”
Sloan panted, feeling the orgasm swirl along her spine and coalesce beneath Michael’s fingers.
“You didn’t finish last night, did you?” Michael squeezed and pulled until Sloan’s shoulders came off the bed again, and then she abruptly released her.
“Baby.” Sloan stared at Michael, her gaze pleading. “I need—”
Michael kissed her, plunging her tongue into Sloan’s mouth while
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she caressed her breasts and stomach. When Sloan’s hips bucked into empty air, Michael quickly pushed down on the bed between her legs.
“Watch me.”
Sloan braced herself on her elbows and watched Michael lick her.
The first warm, wet caress brought her right to the edge. It was so good, and she needed to come so much. “Suck it?”
“Mmm,” Michael murmured, circling with her tongue. “I will. In a little while.”
“Feels so good.”
“You taste so good.” Michael sucked light and fast, a flutter of teeth and tongue.
“I’m going to come,” Sloan blurted.
Michael backed off and went back to licking. Every now and then, in no particular pattern, she drew Sloan completely into her mouth.
Each time she did, Sloan felt herself starting to come. And each time Michael would relax and let her slip out again.
Sloan tugged at the sheets, pulling them loose until they were bunched up around her body. The muscles in her legs clenched so tightly they started to go numb. She felt the faint scrape of teeth and then Michael was sucking her again, faster now. She clamped one hand on the back of Michael’s head and pushed herself deeper between Michael’s lips.
“Harder,” she gasped. “I’m close, baby.”
Michael’s eyes, brilliant with power and pleasure, found hers as she worked her just the way she needed to finish.
“Coming,” Sloan shouted hoarsely, bending forward to cradle Michael’s shoulders, climaxing wildly in her mouth. Michael didn’t let up and the pressure doubled, tripled, until Sloan was writhing and sweating and coming again. She fell onto her side, shuddering, struggling for breath, tears leaking from her eyes.
Michael quickly rose up beside her and pulled her into her arms.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured, wiping the moisture from Sloan’s face. She cradled her head and kissed her forehead, her eyes, her mouth.
“I love you. I love you completely.”
Sloan turned her face to Michael’s breasts, clinging to the sound of her voice and the strong steady beat of her heart. “I’d do anything to keep you safe.”
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“I know. But the only thing that could ever hurt me is losing you.”
“I love you,” Sloan whispered, wishing that were really enough.
v
Sandy, in one of Dell’s T-shirts and nothing else, curled up in the corner of the disheveled sofa bed with a cup of coffee and watched Dell get dressed. She loved the way Dell did everything with precision and care, smoothing out the wrinkles in her T-shirt as she tucked the bottom tightly into her jeans, placing her wallet squarely in her back pocket, clipping her holster in just the right position on her hip. She could picture Dell in a uniform like her sister Erica had worn, all bright and shiny and flawless. Dell was like one of those poster soldiers, representing everything that was good and brave and true. Except she was real.
“You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”
Dell looked over, frowning. “Huh?”
“You know, like trying to save Irina and all those other girls and getting yourself killed?”
“Jesus, babe. Where is this coming from?”
“You,” Sandy said softly, staring into the empty cup. “You forget you’re not indestructible.”
Dell knelt down in front of Sandy, put the cup on the coffee table behind her, and took both of Sandy’s hands. “I don’t forget. I’m a good cop, San, and I’m not going to do anything reckless. I promise.”
She leaned forward and kissed Sandy on the mouth. “And look who’s talking. Where did you go last night?”
Sandy shrugged. “Around.”
“Around where?”
“A couple places to meet up with some friends.”
“Uh-huh. Strip clubs down on the avenue, right?”
Sandy shrugged again.
“I carry a gun, babe. I’ve got backup. I know how to fight.” Dell rested her forehead on Sandy’s knee, sliding her arms around Sandy’s waist. “Jesus Christ. You’re out there all alone.”
Sandy grabbed a fistful of Dell’s hair and pulled her head up. She
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stared fiercely into her face. “I’m not stupid, either. I carry a phone, I watch where I’m going. I have friends out there who watch out for me.
I want to come home to you too.”
“I wish you weren’t doing what you’re doing for Frye.”
Sandy blinked. Dell hadn’t said to stop, she’d just said she wished she wouldn’t. Dell was scared. Her brave, steady cop was scared. “I know, baby. And I’ll be careful.”
“Fuck, this is hard,” Dell muttered.
“Yeah.” Sandy tugged on Dell’s hair. “I want to know what happens with Irina.”
“Aw, babe—”
“I mean it, rookie. Because if you don’t tell me, I’m just going to make things up in my head. And they’ll probably be a lot worse.”
“Hell.”
“Uh-huh.” Sandy smoothed Dell’s hair back and kissed her. She played with Dell’s tongue and nudged her knee into Dell’s crotch until Dell made a hungry sound. Then she pulled back. “I guess we’re just going to have to trust each other.”
Dell smiled crookedly. “I guess so.”
“Call me later?”
“I will. Go back to bed. I’ve got to meet with the team.” Dell took a long breath. “After I get some coffee and stuff for Irina.”
Sandy’s eyes flashed, but she just nodded. “Okay.” She brushed her hand over Dell’s chest. “Just remember where you belong.”
Dell grinned. “I got it. No problem.”
Sandy curled up on the couch and willed herself back to sleep. She didn’t want to hear Dell’s footsteps going down the hall toward Irina.
v
Dell unlocked the apartment door, knocked softly, and let herself in—holding her breath until she saw Irina perched on the front windowsill, watching the street. Her wavy dark hair was wet and she wore a pair of Dell’s jeans and a button-down-collar cotton shirt that was tight across her breasts.
“I guess you found the shower.” Dell handed her a cup of coffee and a muffin from Dunkin’ Donuts.
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“Yes. And the clothes.” Irina nodded toward the bag she’d taken from her house the night before. “I borrowed yours. I need to wash mine. They have footprints on them.”
“There’s a place around the corner.” Dell took her wallet out and handed Irina a twenty. “It takes quarters, so you’ll have to stop at one of the bodegas to get change.”
Irina stared at the money.
“You know how to make change, and everything, right?”
“I know the money.” She looked at Dell. “But no one has ever given me any before.”
“What about—” Dell flushed, about to ask her about the johns.
Jesus, could she be any more of an ass?
“None of us got to keep anything we…earned. The enforcers…
they gave us everything. Food. Clothes. Medicine.”
“They kept you dependent,” Dell said. “It’s hard to run away, to fight back, when you have nothing and nowhere to go.”
Irina turned quickly to the window.
Dell put her hands in her pockets, feeling more like a fool. “I’m sorry.”
“No. I…the coffee is good. Thank you.”
“I have to go out for a while,” Dell said to Irina’s back. “Like I said, you’re not a prisoner, but you should be careful if you go anywhere.
People are probably looking for you.”
Irina turned around. “What is your real name?”
Dell tried not to fidget when Irina’s stare drifted from her breasts to her crotch and lingered. She wondered if Irina liked women, then wondered why she cared. “Dell.”
“Do you mind if I just call you Mitch?”
“No, I don’t mind at all.”
Irina nodded. “I will wait here. After the clothes washing, I will wait here.”
“Good. Thanks.” Dell walked to the door. “I’ll be back.”
When Irina said nothing, she slipped out and closed the door.
• 124 •
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ChAPTER TwELvE
She’s got a picture of her sister,” Dell said to the others gathered around the conference table at Sloan’s. “But she won’t let me see it. She doesn’t trust me, and I guess I don’t blame her.”
“If she won’t give it to you,” Watts said, slurping his coffee, “then take it. She doesn’t have a lot of choice in this game.”
Dell shook her head, biting back a retort. “I’m not going to force her to do anything. That’s not the way to get her to cooperate.” When Watts raised his eyebrows, she hastily added, “Detective.”
“So what are you gonna do, big man,” Watts goaded. “Fuck her until she’s brainless and begs to give you anything you want?”
“Watts,” Rebecca said in a steely voice.
“Well, for Christ’s sakes, Loo,” Watts snapped. “The girl’s a criminal, but instead of getting her sweet little ass shipped back to Mother Russia, she’s walking around here free as a bird. Telling us what she’ll do and what she won’t.”
“She’s scared,” Dell said.
Watts muttered something about bleeding hearts.
“What do you suggest, Detective,” Rebecca said, giving Mitchell her head. Mitchell was the one closest to Irina, and it was her ass on the line. They had to trust Mitchell’s take on the situation. Rebecca didn’t like it, not because she didn’t trust Mitchell, but because she was never comfortable being forced to make decisions based on other people’s judgments.
“If we’re going to get her to cooperate, I think we have to help her find her sister. And the only way we’re going to do that is to promise her sister will be safe.”
• 125 •
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“Promise her Witsec, for both of them.” Sloan stood, coffee cup in hand. “Anybody need a refill?”
“I’ll get it,” Jason said, rising as well. “And I agree. Offer her protection—for both of them. Offer them a new life. It might buy Mitch a safety net.”
Dell looked at Frye. “Can we?”
“I don’t know. Technically, she belongs to Clark.”
“Fucking Clark,” Watts muttered. “I say we do it.”
Rebecca swiveled on her chair and regarded him sharply. “Why the sudden change?”
Watts shrugged. “Because it will burn Clark’s ass.” He shot a look at Jason and Sloan. “And because it’s more likely to put Irina firmly on our side, and that’s good for Mitch.”
“She might not be an easy sell,” Sloan said. “I’ve seen plenty of girls sold into the sex trade in Southeast Asia. All they know is lies and abuse. How much do you think she trusts you, Dell?”
“I don’t know. Some.”
“Are you banging her?” Watts asked.
Rebecca said, “Jesus, Watts.”
“No, I’m not,” Dell said stiffly.
“Well maybe you should. Then, when she’s all softened up, you can—”
Dell shot to her feet and strode out of the room.
Rebecca rubbed her eyes. She’d slept soundly, but only for a few hours. Her head throbbed dully. Better than the day before, but still there. She pushed away from the table and stood. “Watts, go down to the port with Jason. Then see if you can get a line on the Zamoras’
lieutenants from OC. They’re probably the ones playing messenger with the Russians. Somebody get me some names.”
Watts looked in the direction Mitchell had gone, his expression confused. “I was just saying—”
“Dell likes her,” Jason said softly to Watts. “And when Dell likes a woman, she wants her treated right.”
“Oh. Well hell, that complicates things.”
Jason laughed. “So what else is new?”
v
• 126 •
Justice for All
“Sloan. Talk to you a minute?” Rebecca said as the conference room began to clear.
“Sure.” Sloan hiked a hip onto the edge of the conference table.
When they were alone, she asked, “How are you feeling?”
“A little rough around the edges, but I’m getting there.”
“You and Watts can’t cover Mitch every night. I can take some shifts. I’ve got a badge again, remember?” Sloan still couldn’t believe Clark had given her official agent status when she began working with Rebecca’s team. She wasn’t exactly a fed again, because she answered to Rebecca, which suited her just fine. Rebecca she trusted.
“I can’t get departmental authorization for the manpower to cover him twenty-four/seven,” Rebecca said. “No undercover agent gets that kind of backup.”
“I’m not asking to get paid,” Sloan said.
“I appreciate your volunteering. I can use you.” Rebecca shrugged into her wool blazer, as close as she ever came to a winter coat. “I want to cover the two of them as tightly as we can for the first week or so, until we get a feel for how things are working out with Irina. Then, other than critical meets, we’ll have to rely on Mitch to call for backup if he gets in a tight position.
“I’m good for it any time.”
“Thanks.” Rebecca considered the more pressing matter they needed to square away. “About this fund-raiser—”
“Michael is going,” Sloan cut in. “She already had it scheduled—a business thing. I forgot she told me. I’m still hoping to talk her out of it.”
“She doesn’t have to get anywhere near Zamora,” Rebecca said evenly. “If it comes to that.”
Sloan hesitated, then looked out into the main room, checking that no one was around. “Something doesn’t feel right about this, Rebecca.
Not any of it. I don’t trust Clark. He’s always working the angles for himself, and he doesn’t care who pays the price.”
“I’ve got the same feeling, but I can’t put my finger on the reason.
I’m going to talk to Clark today about Witsec, and I’ll see if I can get a better feel for what he’s not telling us.”
“Call me. I’m heading over to Police Plaza for a while and check on my boys. Make sure they haven’t fried the system while I’ve been gone.”
• 127 •
RADclY fFe
“Thanks for lending me your car yesterday.” Rebecca grinned.
“Nice ride.”
Sloan sketched a salute. “Just don’t let Watts drive.”
Rebecca watched her walk away. Sloan was volatile at the best of times and she’d been wrapped tight since Michael was injured. Still, Rebecca trusted her. Whatever it was Sloan had done for the Justice Department, she’d been good at it or Clark wouldn’t have pulled her back in. And Rebecca needed someone with that kind of experience.
Sloan would keep her head, as long as Michael didn’t get drawn in.
Scanning the work area, Rebecca headed for the huge bank of windows at the far end. As she expected, Mitchell was waiting there, slouched with her hands in the pockets of her black jeans, rocking back and forth in her heavy motorcycle boots.
“You want to finish your report?” Rebecca asked.
Dell continued to stare down at the choppy gray surface of the river. “I’m sorry I lost it. I know he doesn’t mean half the things he says.”
“He probably means the other half. But I promise you he’ll always have your back.”
“I know.” Dell faced Rebecca. “Irina is used to protecting herself.
She handled the bartender at Ziggie’s last night really well. I think she can get me inside.”
“You think the Russians will contact her again?”
“Once the word gets out that she’s been spotted at Ziggie’s, yeah, I think so. Especially since she’s reaching out, like she wants to get back to work.”
“You’re going back tonight, right?”
Dell nodded. “I’m taking her to the Troc first to meet the guys.
And Jasmine.”
“Good.” Rebecca studied the young detective. She looked calm, despite the enormity of the operation and her position on point. She looked solid. “How’s Sandy doing?”
“She’s good.” Dell took a breath. “I don’t think she should stay at her apartment if Irina’s going to be down the hall.”
“I don’t imagine Sandy’s too happy about that.”
“She’s okay. But if trouble follows us home, I don’t want her around. Besides, with Sandy working the streets for you, I think it would be better to put some distance between us.”
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Justice for All
“You’re right, but she’s not going to like it.”
“I can put her up in my condo for a while.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t think so. Too isolated. I know their security is tight, but none of us are close enough if there’s trouble.”
She watched a tugboat push a huge oil barge up to one of the refinery docks. “She can probably stay here with Michael and Sloan.”
“Oh, man, you think so? This place is like a fortress. And Sandy really likes Michael.”
“I’ll check it out. In the meantime, how are you doing with Irina?”
“Okay, no problem,” Dell said, flushing.
“You need to keep some objectivity there,” Rebecca said. “You can’t let yourself get attached.”
“I know.”
Rebecca had run cops undercover before, but usually sting operations on porn dealers or pimps. Nothing this long term or at such a distance. She needed to know what might shake Mitchell up. She needed to know what might get Mitchell killed. “Are you going to be all right with her and the physical situation?”
“I don’t feel that way about her. I mean, she’s attractive and…”
Dell looked away, then squared her shoulders and met Rebecca’s gaze.
“I can’t help getting turned on sometimes. It’s not like I mean to, or even want to. I…I’m keeping my focus, though.”
“I think it would be tough getting up close to her and not feeling anything at all.” Rebecca was proud of Mitchell for admitting something that a lot of cops wouldn’t. Whether it was drugs or girls or easy money, temptation was everywhere, and no one wanted to admit to being tempted, even when they managed to resist. “But you need to keep your head clear. And that includes not feeling bad about reactions out of your control.”
“I’m trying. I’m good.”
“I want you to talk to Catherine about it.”
Dell stiffened. “I don’t—”
“Not a request, Detective.” Rebecca gripped Mitchell’s shoulder.
“I trust you, okay? But you’ve got to be completely on top of things.
For your own safety. For Irina’s. And for Sandy’s. You read me?”
“Yes ma’am, Lieutenant.”
“Good. I’ll tell her you’ll be by today.” Rebecca touched her
• 129 •
RADclY fFe
knuckles briefly to the edge of Mitchell’s jaw. “You’re doing a good job.”
“Thank you,” Dell whispered as Rebecca walked away, the praise running through her like a warm caress. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”
v
“Of course I’ll make time to see her,” Catherine said when Rebecca phoned her. “I’ll tell Joyce to fit her in whenever she calls. What about Irina?”
“I’m on my way to see Clark right now,” Rebecca said. “Hopefully we’ll be able to put her with you in the next day or so.”
“All right, darling. Are you driving?”
“Yes, but not very far. Just—”
“How’s your vision?”
“Perfect. A little headache,” Rebecca volunteered, “but otherwise no problems at all.”
“Will you do me a favor?”
“Yes.”
“Go home for a few hours this afternoon. Take a nap.”
Rebecca did some quick mental calculations. She wanted to shadow Mitchell when she took Irina to the Troc and Ziggie’s, and that meant being out on surveillance most of the night. In fact, almost everything that was going on in the operation was going to happen at night. She could take a few hours’ downtime during the day. She wouldn’t ordinarily, but Catherine asked so little of her. “All right. I will. I’ll call you when I get home.”
“Thank you, darling. I love you. I’ve got to go. Patients.”
“I’ll call you later. Love you.” Rebecca disconnected and pulled into the underground parking lot below the federal building at Sixth and Market. With any luck, she’d be able to track Clark down.
v
Kratos Zamora touched the edge of the linen napkin to his mouth, then deposited it next to the china plate in front of him. He placed the heavy silver knife and fork engraved with the crest of the Union Club together on the plate and smiled at Talia. Seated across from him,
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she wore a red dress in a style appropriate for a business meeting, but even the subdued lines and conservative cut couldn’t hide her inherent sensuality. He enjoyed the persistent arousal her presence always instilled. He always found the unattainable exciting.
“How was the lamb?” he asked.
“Delicious.” Talia sipped her wine, aware of the glances from the mostly male diners. Only a few years ago, women had not been welcome as members of the elite business club, and she wagered that Kratos had not been welcome either. At one time his lineage would have been enough to deny him entry, but now, money was the main requirement. Money legitimized everyone and abolished social divides, at least on the surface.
“Might I hope that the reason for your lunch invitation was simply that you wanted my company?” Kratos inquired, reaching across the table to stroke Talia’s hand.
Carefully, she shifted her hand to her wineglass, not wanting to make the movement appear as a rejection to him or anyone who might be watching. Swirling the claret before sipping, she allowed the wine to linger on her tongue, inhaling slowly, savoring the bouquet. She knew he was watching. His eyes were hungry. “I’ll need some time to breach Sloan’s system.”
“But you can do it.”
Talia smiled. “Of course.”
“Good.”
Talia was silent as the waiter glided up to the table. When he inquired if there was anything else she needed, she replied, “Espresso, please.”
“Very good, madam. And for you, sir?”
“Just coffee.”
When he disappeared as soundlessly as he had arrived, Talia said,
“Someone like her could be very valuable.”
“What do you mean?” Kratos asked.
“She could do anything she wanted and no one would have the expertise to detect it. And she has direct access.” Talia shrugged.
“Interviews, files, evidence—all of it.”
“Can’t you do the same thing?”
“I’m touched by your faith,” Talia said with a faintly mocking
• 131 •
RADclY fFe
lilt. “Yes, given enough time. But I can guarantee that Sloan’s primary agenda right now is to make the central files as impregnable as possible.
It would be so much nicer if she were helping us get in rather than working to keep us out.”
“What kind of leverage do we have?”
“This.” Talia reached into her purse and withdrew the photograph of Sloan and the blonde in the ambulance. She’d added another clipping after searching newspaper archives that morning.
Kratos took the two photographs and stared at the woman who had caught his attention in the surveillance videos. The caption said her name was Michael Lassiter. Michael. She was wholly feminine, and the androgyny of her name only heightened her allure. Enjoying his instantaneous erection, he brushed his thumb along the outline of her body. “Sloan’s lover?”
“It would appear so.”
“We can’t touch her.” He shook his head. “Not after all the attention our Russian friends stirred up recently.”
Talia laughed softly. “You can’t honestly think I was suggesting something as crude as that, can you?”
Kratos frowned. “What then?”
“How would you like to get to know Ms. Lassiter personally?”
“I’d like nothing better,” he said, his gaze drifting to her mouth.
“Almost nothing.”
v
Avery Clark didn’t keep Rebecca waiting long, once she’d found his office in the warren of hallways lined with nondescript wooden doors and frosted glass windows. She announced herself to the lone secretary in the tiny waiting room and had just settled into an uncomfortable, thinly upholstered chair against the wall when Clark himself opened another unadorned door at the rear of the room and gestured her inside with a surprisingly friendly smile.
Rebecca followed him into the inner office and closed the door, waiting for him to walk around behind his plain gray metal desk before she sat in yet another uncomfortable chair in front of it. With his jacket off and his white shirt sleeves rolled up, Clark was standard government issue—somewhere between thirty-five and forty, brown hair, dark steel-
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Justice for All
framed glasses, conservative haircut, conventional suit, dark tie, plain shirt. Wedding ring, hip holster, sharp eyes.
“Lieutenant,” he said, settling into the fake black leather desk chair. He tilted back slightly and swiveled a few degrees from side to side. “Back to work already? Glad to see that injury isn’t slowing you down.”
“Thanks,” Rebecca replied, wondering just how glad Clark really was to see her back on the job. Her headache had ratcheted up the moment she’d walked into the federal building. She doubted the dull throbbing behind her eyes had anything to do with her injury. She’d never liked the politics of law enforcement, but now that she’d been promoted, she had no choice but to navigate the murky waters populated by self-interested elected officials, federal agents, and local police.
Power and control were the sought-after prizes, and public perception often more important than results. It wasn’t a game she liked, but she had to play.
“I appreciate you all helping us out,” Clark said.
“We didn’t exactly have a choice on that, since you went over our heads with the plan.”
Clark shrugged, his smile still in place, his expression a mixture of false innocence and self-satisfaction. “Time was of the essence, so I just wanted to avoid getting bogged down in red tape. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
“What I’d appreciate,” Rebecca said, holding his gaze, “is a look at the statements from Irina Guterov and the other girls in that house, along with whatever you have on the Russian connection to local crime.
You want us to do your legwork and the brass agrees. I don’t intend to do it blind.”
“Well,” Clark said as if he were thinking, “the girls didn’t really give us much. They don’t know very much. Most of them don’t even speak English.”
“Irina does.”
“True, which is why we can use her.” Clark’s eyes narrowed.
“Girls like Irina are not that easy to replace. The Russians need women like her to indoctrinate the new girls into the system. The fresh ones have to be taught how to behave at private parties, what to expect when they go to a video shoot, how to handle johns at the clubs. They’re going to want her back, and soon.”
• 133 •
RADclY fFe
“I agree.” Rebecca crossed her legs, letting her arms drape casually along the wooden armrests. His casual dismissal of the plight of the girls, all victims, even Irina, grated on her. But she hadn’t come to fight a battle she couldn’t win. “What makes you think we can trust her?”
“She doesn’t want to go back to Russia.” Clark shrugged. “And then there’s the matter of her sister. She wants to find her. She wants to protect her. All things considered, we’ve got serious leverage.”
“Where is her sister?”
Clark shook his head. “No idea. The sister arrived here after Guterov. Not that long ago, apparently, as some sort of reward for Guterov’s cooperation in running the other girls. Except the Russians didn’t put them together the way they promised.”
“Using a little leverage of their own,” Rebecca mused. Keeping Irina obligated to them—first with promises to bring her sister to this country, then by stringing her along and keeping them apart.
“Yes. Threats against families are one of the traditional means of controlling these girls.”
“So the sister might not even be in the city.”
“Possibly, although she probably is. They don’t cycle them out of here that quickly, and I suspect they’d keep her close in case Guterov threatened to stop working if they didn’t produce her.”
“I don’t want Irina trading my officer for her sister,” Rebecca said.
“Now that she’s back on the streets, she might be tempted to do that.”
Clark looked unconcerned. “She knows we can pick her up and deport her.”
“Not good enough. I want incentive for her to stay on our side. I want Witsec for her and her sister.”
Clark pursed his lips. “Witsec is expensive. It’s getting pretty selective these days, too, especially when we’re trying to persuade people to testify against terrorists.”
“Get them to make an exception. My undercover officer has to be protected.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“I want an answer soon or I’ll pull my people out.”
“Your captain won’t be happy about that. Neither will the commissioner.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
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Justice for All
Clark studied Rebecca and whatever he saw in her face must have convinced him she wasn’t bluffing. He nodded. “I’ll get back to you.”
“So tell me about Kratos Zamora.”
“He’s a businessman. A very wealthy one.” Clark spread his hands.
“And a staunch supporter of the present administration.”
“What’s your interest?”
“His family may be doing business with persons of interest to us.”
“His family? Or him?”
“That’s what I was hoping you could help us with.”
Rebecca’s internal temperature soared to just below boiling, but she didn’t move an inch. She reminded herself that just because she and Clark were supposed to be on the same side didn’t make them teammates. “Help how?”
“You can tell a lot about a person by the company they keep. And the people they do business with.”
“His business interests should be a matter of record. One thing you federal types are good at is chasing paper trails.” Clark’s expression shuttered closed, but Rebecca didn’t care if he was insulted. He wanted to use her and give nothing in return. “Besides, his brother heads the family.”
“That’s what Kratos would like us to believe,” Clark said. “We’re not so sure. That’s why we want a more personal look at him. Business gets discussed at events like this fund-raiser tomorrow night. Alliances are forged. We want to know who’s in his inner circle.”
“Why don’t you put your people on him?”
“Because he’s smart and he’s careful,” Clark said, frustration evident in his voice. “All we need is an initial legitimate business connection. Then we can insert our people and run with it.”
“I can’t help you. Sloan has plenty of connections in the private sector, but if the Zamoras don’t know about her working with us, they would soon enough.”
“I wasn’t thinking of Sloan.”
Rebecca shook her head. “Who then?”
“Innova Design is one of the biggest companies on the East Coast.
And Michael Lassiter—”
“She’s a civilian,” Rebecca snapped. “She nearly died already and she’s completely untrained.”
• 135 •
RADclY fFe
“I don’t expect her to do undercover work,” Clark shot back. “All we need is the initial overture and then we’ll put our people inside her firm.”
“No.”
“Think about it.”
“I already have.” Rebecca rose. “And the answer is still no.”
• 136 •
Justice for All
ChAPTER ThIRTEEN
Since Joyce, Catherine’s secretary, had gone to lunch, Catherine checked the waiting area herself a few minutes after one. As she expected, her special appointment was waiting. “Dellon. Hello, come on in.”
“Thanks for seeing me.” Dell followed her into the office, removed her windbreaker, and took her customary chair in front of Catherine’s desk. “The lieutenant thought we should talk.”
“What do you think?” Catherine settled into a chair facing Dellon.
The first time they’d met, Dellon had sat nearly at attention in her seat, feet firmly on the floor, eyes straight ahead. Today, she was a little more relaxed, her back still not touching the chair, but her shoulders no longer rigid. In her black street clothes, with her black hair and dark eyes, she was wildly attractive. Catherine could imagine her capturing the eye of any number of females, of any age. That kind of sexual magnetism could pose a problem, especially in the kind of work she was doing.
“I think if the lieutenant thinks it’s a good idea, it is,” Dell said.
“That is a very diplomatic answer.” Catherine laughed softly. “So how are you?”
Dell grinned and interlaced her fingers, resting her hands between her thighs. “I think I’m doing okay, but…there’s a lot going on, you know?”
“I know some of the details of the operation. Why don’t you tell me how you see it.”
“The assignment’s great,” Dell said enthusiastically, filling Catherine in on the basic details. “It’s good. It’s what I want to do. I feel like…”
• 137 •
RADclY fFe
“Like what?” Catherine asked after a minute of silence.
“Like I’m doing something that no one else can do. ’Cause I’m really good at this undercover thing.” Dell smiled. “Well, Mitch is, anyhow.”
“Is Mitch a police officer too?” Catherine leaned closer as Dell stared. “By that, I mean does Mitch make decisions from the same set of rules and regulations that a police officer would?”
Dell frowned. “Um.”
“You know this is private, don’t you?” Catherine said gently.
Dellon had matured since their first meeting. She’d filled out, metaphorically, from a heartbreakingly innocent young officer into a confident detective. Catherine was glad to see the changes, because she knew Dellon would be safer on the streets, but growth spurts like that could leave someone off balance. And that could be dangerous.“Even though your lieutenant thinks it’s a good idea that we talk, what we discuss here is between us.”
“Yes ma’am. I know that. It’s just…I never thought about it before. Mitch…yeah, Mitch is a cop. I mean, when I’m Mitch, I still think like a cop, even if I have to do things I might not do when I’m not undercover.”
“What kind of things?”
Dell stared at her hands. “The things I do with Irina. I wouldn’t do them with her, with anyone.”
“When you’re intimate.”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel guilty about it?”
Dell searched Catherine’s eyes. “Should I?”
Catherine smiled and waited.
“I don’t feel guilty about Mitch acting like Irina’s boyfriend. I mean, when you’re undercover, you have to be into it. It’s gotta be real.
If it isn’t, it won’t work.”
“That makes sense,” Catherine said. “So when Mitch and Irina act like lovers—when they’re physically intimate, that feels okay.”
Dell nodded. Then after a second, she shook her head.
“Yes and no? A little of both?”
“It’s okay we kiss and fool around.” Dell slowly met Catherine’s gaze. “It’s not okay that I…want to.”
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Justice for All
“You want to be intimate with Irina.” Catherine waited until Dell nodded again. “Do you want to make love with her?”
“Sometimes. I mean, I get turned on and part of me wants to keep going.”
“What about when you’re not actually being physically intimate with her? Do you think about making love with her when you’re not with her? Do you look forward to seeing her and hope you have a chance to have sex?”
“No.” Dell straightened her shoulders and set her feet squarely on the floor. “No, I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t love her.”
Catherine wanted to smile, but she kept her expression neutral.
Oh, she could see this one breaking hearts everywhere she went. “So let me see if I understand. You find her physically attractive, but you’re not in love with her and you aren’t interested in having a sexual relationship with her.”
“Right,” Dell said when Catherine paused.
“But when you have to be physical with her because of the roles you’re both playing, you become aroused.”
“Yes.”
“What is there about your body’s response in that situation that makes you worry?”
“I bet the lieutenant wouldn’t get turned on. I bet she’d be cool.
She’s always in control.”
“Everyone is different, Dellon,” Catherine said, carefully not thinking about her lover becoming aroused with another woman. She’d have to think about it later, especially the quick surge of jealous anger the idea provoked. “Our bodies are different, our physical triggers are different. That’s neither good nor bad. It’s just a fact.”
“So you don’t think I should feel guilty about it?”
“I think when you’re working, the most important thing is that you keep your mind clear. It’s important for your safety and Irina’s that you be totally focused on the situation. If you’re worried about what you’re feeling, put that aside temporarily.” Catherine squeezed Dellon’s arm.
“You can talk to me about it later, if you want to.”
“Sandy says she never got turned on when she was working,” Dell
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RADclY fFe
said in a low voice. “That always made me glad. I hate thinking about her touching anyone else. Having them touch her.”
“Sandy isn’t you, Dell. And what she was doing is very different than what you’re doing. There are some similarities, yes. The physical interaction with someone you don’t love—that’s the same. But there are so many differences, you can’t compare them.”
“I can tell she doesn’t like Mitch and Irina spending time together, but she’s trying to deal.”
“Are the two of you able to talk about it?”
“Some.” Dell sighed. “We’re working on it.”
“Good. That’s exactly what you need to do.” Catherine hesitated, wondering if she should talk to Rebecca, then pushed on. “If the two of you want to talk with me, you can call me.”
“Yeah?” Dell’s eyes brightened.
“Yes. There are no rules for what you’re doing, Dellon, and I think you’re doing a terrific job. Both you and Sandy.”
“Could you tell my lieutenant that?”
“Oh, I most definitely will.” Catherine stood. “Come see me next week, all right?”
“Okay, yeah. That would be good.” Dell rose and slid her hands in her pockets. Rocking back on her heels, she grinned. “I guess the lieutenant was right about me coming to see you. She’s pretty much always right.”
Catherine laughed. “Let’s not remind her of that.”
v
Watts rapped on the partially open door of the large utilitarian room with one wall of windows overlooking the docks at the Packer Avenue terminal of the Port of Philadelphia. A robust African-American woman in a spit-and-polish uniform looked up from behind a desk when he pushed the door open a few more inches.
Captain Carla Reiser smiled, her smooth mocha features relaxing, taking ten years off her already youthful face, and dropped the sheaf of papers she was studying onto the center of her desk. “Bill. Good to see you.”
“Yeah. You too.” Watts ambled a few feet into the room. “Busy?”
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Justice for All
“Half a dozen of my dock supervisors have been arrested and I’ve got feds crawling all over my port.” Carla shrugged. “Normal day.”
Watts laughed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“Social visit?” Carla’s voice held just a hint of playfulness and Watts tried not to grin like an idiot. Carla headed security for the whole port, and she’d helped orchestrate the interception of the last shipment of girls from Eastern Europe. She was sharp and savvy and smart, and he couldn’t believe his luck that a woman like her even noticed he was alive.
“You remember Jason?” Watts asked.
“The blond computer cop, right?”
“Yeah, that’s him.” Watts was foolishly pleased that she hadn’t commented on how good-looking Jason was. Everyone always referred to him as too handsome to be a man. Geez, it could give a guy a complex.
“He’s up at the IT center, poking around in your computers, trying to figure out who did what and how.”
“If he finds anything, I hope he lets me know.”
“What about the feds? Are they turning up anything?”
“Who knows. If they talk to you, then you’re doing a lot better than me.”
“That’s a no, then,” Watts grunted.
Carla gestured to the worn plaid sofa pushed against one wall. “Sit down. Coffee?”
“I’ll get it. I’m up.” Watts poured coffee from the Pyrex carafe into two oversized Styrofoam cups, added powdered creamer, stirred both with one of the wooden sticks from a nearby tray, and carried the cups back to the couch. Carla had settled into one corner, and he handed her the coffee. “Light, no sugar, right?”
“Very good.”
He felt himself coloring and hastily sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. “So are you catching any heat from the arrests, or shouldn’t I ask?”
“I’m the ranking officer in charge on-site. All my superiors man desks downtown.” Carla sipped her coffee, her eyes contemplative.
“They’re looking at me, but they haven’t put me on administrative leave. Yet.”
“That blows.”
• 141 •
RADclY fFe
Carla laughed. “It surely does.” She shifted until her knee touched his and leaned forward. “I don’t believe for a minute that those six supervisors were anywhere near the top of the food chain. Whoever was running this operation had to have international connections and some way of moving human beings and God knows what else out of this port. I want them.”
“You’re gonna have to get in line,” Watts said softly. “These guys almost killed my lieutenant.”
“I heard you had casualties. Is she okay?”
“Back on the job,” Watts said.
“Tough.”
Watts nodded. “Oh yeah.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Just clear Jason to look at anything he wants to, should anybody ask. If anyone balks at that, let us know, and we’ll look extra hard at them.” Watson set his cup on the scarred coffee table in front of the sofa. “Got any ideas where we ought to look?”
“I’ve got four warehouses and a hundred thirty loading docks at this terminal alone. We have thousands of containers offloading every month. Do we lose one for a few hours or a day because bills of lading were filled out incorrectly by someone who doesn’t even speak English ten thousand miles away? Yes. Does contraband come through inside the cars or barrels of cocoa beans or tons of clothing merchandise?
Undoubtedly.” She shook her head angrily. “But people? Human beings transported across the ocean in pitch-black unvented metal coffins? If I had any idea which of my officers helped, I’d drag their sorry carcasses to you myself.”
“I guess that’s why they call those girls slaves,” Watts said. Then he thought of what he had said, and to whom. “Well fuck. Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No need to apologize, Bill.” Carla collected their cups and threw them into the trash. Back at her desk, she scribbled something on the back of a business card and held it out to him. “Give this to Jason. It’s my direct number. Anything he needs, tell him to call me.”
“Thanks,” Watts said, pocketing the card. “Well, I have to get back to headquarters.”
Watts was almost to the door when Carla said, “Bill.”
He turned, aware he was holding his breath.
• 142 •
Justice for All
Carla’s eyes sparkled as if she were about to laugh, and the lighthearted expression made her look welcoming and sexy at the same time. “How about dinner some night?”
“How about tomorrow?”
v
“For how long, Dell?” Sandy exclaimed, standing across the small room, her arms folded tightly beneath her breasts.
Dell could almost see her quiver. She hoped with anger, not hurt.
“I don’t know, babe. A few days, a week maybe.”
“Or two weeks? Or three? Maybe a month?” Sandy’s voice shook.
“You want me to stay at Michael’s, in a strange bed, alone, while you’re here with Irina? Going out with her every night. Coming home with her?”
Sandy looked around the room, her eyes wild. For a second, Dell thought she might be looking for something to throw. She took a cautious step forward. Then another. When Sandy wouldn’t even look at her, she kept going until she was right in front of her. Inches away.
Then she very gently rested her hands on Sandy’s shoulders. Sandy still wouldn’t look at her, so she tilted her head down until their eyes could meet. “I’ll come over there whenever I can. You think I want to sleep without you?”
When Sandy didn’t answer, Dell tucked two fingers under her chin and turned her head until she was sure Sandy had focused on her.
“When are you going to believe me? I love you. Like crazy. Like so much all I think about is you.”
She kissed her, letting her lips linger on Sandy’s mouth even though Sandy did not return her kiss. She brushed her lips back and forth until Sandy’s breath fluttered out on a sigh, then danced her tongue over Sandy’s lower lip until Sandy’s arms slipped around her neck. The tightness in Dell’s chest eased and she moved them backward to the sofa. Then she pulled Sandy down beside her, keeping Sandy in the curve of her arm, tight against her body.
“Why don’t you trust me?” Dell asked.
Sandy thumped her arm. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it about?”
“It’s about me missing you.”
• 143 •
RADclY fFe
“You think I won’t miss you?”
“You’ll be working,” Sandy said softly, her voice muffled against Dell’s T-shirt.
Dell shifted the short soft strands of Sandy’s hair through her fingers. “I’ll always be working. That doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking about you. Jesus, San, I love you.”
Sandy sat back, her eyes searching Dell’s face. She remembered a conversation she’d had with Frye, one of those up close and personal ones she’d rather not have. Frye had said if she loved Dell she couldn’t make her crazy, because then Dell wouldn’t be thinking about work.
Instead she’d be thinking about her, and she’d get hurt.
“I love you too,” Sandy told her. “I like knowing you’re coming home to me. I like coming home to you. I like it a lot.”
“Fuck.” Dell pushed her fingers through her hair. “I thought I was doing a good thing, moving you out of here. I don’t like Mitch and Irina being so close to you. I don’t know what the guys Irina has been working with will do when she hooks up with them again.”
“You think they’ll hurt her?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. But just the same—”
“You’re gonna be with her, Dell. What about you getting hurt?”
Sandy slapped Dell’s chest. “And don’t give me that crap about you being a cop. You don’t wear a vest when you’re with her. Anything could happen.”
“Maybe,” Dell admitted. She wasn’t going to insult Sandy by blowing smoke at her. “But I’ll have backup. The lieutenant and Watts are following me.”
“Yeah, just like they were following you when you went into that house with her the last time. Frye almost ended up dead.” Sandy grabbed Dell’s face between her hands. “If something happens to you, rookie, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Dell covered Sandy’s hands with hers. “That’s how I feel about you, don’t you get it? I’m totally soft for you, babe.”
Sandy laughed, her eyes flickering down to Dell’s crotch. “Since when?”
“Up here,” Dell said, tapping her forehead.
Sandy straddled Dell’s lap. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Uh…it’s hard for me to think right now.”
• 144 •
Justice for All
“Try.” Sandy leaned forward and kissed Dell fleetingly before leaning back.
“Working.” Dell could tell from Sandy’s stare that she wasn’t going to get away with anything short of details. “At the Troc. Then Ziggie’s. Then I don’t know.”
“Jesus, Dell,” Sandy whispered. “You gotta be careful.”
“I will. I promise.”
Sandy kissed her again, but it wasn’t a fuck me kiss. It was an I love you more than anything kiss. Then she climbed off Dell’s lap, walked to the small closet, and pulled out a worn floral fabric suitcase.
“What are you doing?” Dell asked, her voice hoarse.
“Packing some stuff to go to Michael’s.”
“You sure?”
Sandy looked over her shoulder and made herself smile. “Yeah, Michael is cool. No problem.”
“I’ll be there later tonight.”
“Okay. That’s good.”
Sandy carried the bag to the dresser just inside the door and started pulling items from the drawers. Dell went up behind her and put her arms around her, tugging Sandy back against her chest. She nuzzled Sandy’s neck. “I know you don’t want to.”
“I said it’s okay.”
“I know. But it sucks. And I’m sorry.”
Sandy turned in Dell’s arms and pressed into the curve of Dell’s body until not even a whisper stood between them. “I want to do this for you.”
“Thank you,” Dell murmured, amazed when her eyes filled with tears. She probably should have been embarrassed, but she wasn’t. She just held on more tightly. “Thank you.”
• 145 •
• 146 •
Justice for All
ChAPTER FOURTEEN
Michael had just finished changing from her work clothes into loose cotton slacks and a pullover when Sandy buzzed from downstairs. Tugging the clasp from her hair, she shook out the shoulder-length waves on the way to the elevator.
“I hope you didn’t eat,” she said when Sandy emerged. “I just ordered Chinese.”
“That sounds great. Thanks for letting me crash here again.” Sandy followed Michael to the spare bedroom and dropped her suitcase by the closet. She plopped down on the bed and stared at her hands.
“You’re always welcome.” Michael sat next to Sandy. “We can go into the office together on Monday.”
“Geez. That seems like such a normal thing to do.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Michael took Sandy’s hand. “So what’s the deal?”
“Dell wants to stash me somewhere so she can shack up with Irina.”
“That’s handy. And you went along with it? Big of you.” Michael’s tone was teasing.
Sandy cut her a look. “Yeah right. As if.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”
“But she does want me out of the way for a while. In case things get hinky.”
“Will you hate me if I say I think that makes sense?”
Sandy picked at the seam on the inside of her pale pink pants.
“No. I get why she wants to do it this way. But I don’t like it.”
“I don’t blame you. Needing to leave your house is really upsetting.”
• 147 •
RADclY fFe
“Yeah well,” Sandy muttered, “when Dell got the apartment down the hall from me, we didn’t know she was going to end up with a girlfriend. Another girlfriend.”
“You’re not worried about Irina, are you?”
“Oh, no. She’s only practically gotten Mitch to fuck her two or three times already.” Sandy shifted further onto the bed and folded her legs beneath her. She glared at Michael. “And trust me. When a girl grabs a guy’s dick, he stops thinking about anything. Including his girlfriend.”
“Ah, I won’t argue.” Michael smiled. “Although I don’t think it’s completely a guy thing.”
Sandy snorted. “Okay. I suppose when Dell starts in on me I’m not thinking about much of anything either.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Sloan too?”
“She can be persuasive.” Michael gave Sandy’s hand a shake.
“I’ve got a really good idea.”
“What?”
“Let’s open a bottle of wine, eat Chinese, and watch a movie.”
“Can I still bitch about Irina?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
Sandy glanced around. “Sloan still at work?”
“She’s in a meeting with Rebecca. I think she’ll be there for a while.”
Sandy smiled. “In that case…what about sharing the inside scoop on her when she’s being persuasive.”
“I don’t like to brag.”
Laughing, Sandy bumped Michael’s hip with hers. “Yeah yeah.
I’ll just stick to my fantasies.”
v
“So what’ve we got?” Rebecca asked when she found Sloan working at a computer in HPCU headquarters.
“Pull up a chair,” Sloan said, hitting a few more keystrokes before swiveling to face her. “Someone’s trying to get into our network.”
• 148 •
Justice for All
“And that’s unusual?”
Sloan shook her head. “Not really. Random intrusions are very common. Usually they’re probes launched en masse looking for susceptible computers to access.”
“I take it this isn’t random?”
“No. This is a very subtle and very smart assault. They hit the computers at Police Plaza too. Had more success there because the network’s not fully shielded yet.”
“All right,” Rebecca said. “Run this down for me. What are we looking at here?”
“Since I don’t believe in coincidences,” Sloan said, “I have to believe this is the same person who infiltrated Police Plaza before.”
“I thought we tracked that back to Beecher, and he’s dead.”
Sloan shook her head. “No. Beecher was the entry point. But he didn’t set it up himself. He was a middleman. A cyberbagman.”
Rebecca smiled grimly. “I get it. And now that the bagman is out of the equation, we’re moving up the ladder.”
“Oh yeah. Way up the ladder.” Sloan glanced at the monitor, then back at Rebecca. “There’s probably only a handful of people in the country that could do this. If you take out Jason and me, maybe three or four.”
“Do you know who they are?”
Sloan’s eyes narrowed. “Ten years ago I would have. When I was still with Justice.”
“Son of a bitch. Clark knows, doesn’t he?”
“I’d bet money on it. I bet he’s known all along.” Sloan leaned back in her chair and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
“He’s playing us.”
“What do you he think he wants?”
“What every fed wants. A high-level informant inside the organized crime family.”
“And this thing with Irina and Mitch?”
“He’s hedging his bets. Irina might pay off for them, but she’s a long shot.” Sloan thought about Clark and Kratos Zamora and Michael.
There were no coincidences. Avery Clark would use anyone, risk anyone, to get what he wanted. “There are no good guys anymore.”
“Wrong,” Rebecca said softly. “There’s us.”
• 149 •
RADclY fFe
Sloan swung back to her monitor, not wanting Rebecca to read the truth in her eyes. She hadn’t been one of the good guys for a long time, and with every day that passed, and every time she faced the evidence of another betrayal, she knew she moved further away from the light.
Rebecca might believe that their leaders weren’t corrupted, but she didn’t any longer. “I don’t want Clark to know we suspect. I want to let this guy try to get in, and every time he does, I’ll chase him back to his hole. I’ll find him.”
“I want to know when you do.” Rebecca waited in the silence, letting Sloan make her choices.
“Right,” Sloan said quietly.
Rebecca rested her hand on Sloan’s back. The muscles beneath her fingers were tight as steel. “You’re wrong, you know.”
“How’s that,” Sloan said hoarsely.
“There are still people you can trust.”
When Sloan turned around, Rebecca was gone. She wanted to believe her, needed to believe her. She needed not to feel so alone.
v
Mitch was a lot better at dressing than he used to be, but he really missed having Sandy around to approve the details. He smoothed his hand over his chest to be sure the Ace wrap lay smooth beneath his black T-shirt. Lucky for him, he didn’t have a lot to hide up top and his naturally rangy build meant he didn’t have much in the hip department either. He opened a drawer on his side of the dresser and selected a new item he’d never used before, a semi-rigid cock that let him pack comfortably, show a little more in his jeans than a softy would, and have a pretty functional dick if he needed it. Not that he planned on using it with Irina, but if he was taking her out and about, he wanted to come off to anyone checking them out like a guy who planned on treating his girl right.
As he checked his hair and the little bit of makeup he used to darken the angle of his jaw, he thought back to the first time Jasmine had shown up in his apartment with an array of dicks. He’d been embarrassed and excited. Jasmine had helped him get ready, but it had been Sandy, who had looked at him and immediately seen Mitch, that had made everything work. That still made everything work. He didn’t
• 150 •
Justice for All
think he could do this job without her. He checked his watch. He had two minutes. He called her.
“Hi, babe,” he said when Sandy answered.
“Mitch?”
“Uh-huh.”
After a moment, Sandy said, “Ready to head out?”
Mitch knew she was trying to sound casual. “Soon. Whatcha doing?”
“Watching an old movie with Michael and getting buzzed. I think I like red wine.”
“What movie,” Mitch asked, smiling at the thought of Sandy getting into wine.
“St. Elmo’s Fire. There’s this guy who kinda reminds me of you.
Except he’s an asshole.”
“Who?” Mitch heard Sandy say something to Michael, but couldn’t quite make it out.
“Rob Lowe.”
“We’ll have to watch it together.”
“So I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah,” Mitch said. “It’ll be late.”
“I don’t care about that.” More silence. “So be careful, rookie.
See you.”
“See you, babe.”
Mitch disconnected, patted his pockets to be sure his wallet was in place, double-checked that his jeans didn’t bunch up around his ankle holster, and grabbed his jacket on the way out the door. When he got to Irina’s—his—apartment, he knocked. When she didn’t answer after a few minutes, he knocked again. Swearing, he used his key and let himself in. The efficiency was empty. The blanket was folded neatly on one corner of the mattress. He checked the refrigerator. A container of milk, a carton of eggs, butter, an apple. A pot rested upside down on the drain board next to the sink. So she’d shopped. She probably wouldn’t have done that if she were skipping out on him.
He walked to the closet and pulled it open. A stack of clothes sat on the top shelf. A few blouses hung from hangers. He sniffed them.
They were clean. She’d done laundry. But where had she gone? Maybe she had a contact in the city they didn’t know about. Maybe she’d been free to move about between safe houses the whole time, and she was
• 151 •
RADclY fFe
already back with the Russians. Maybe she had a secret boyfriend, or girlfriend.
He’d been up most of the night before, so he stretched out on the mattress to wait and closed his eyes. The Army had taught him to sleep lightly, and he was instantly alert at the first scratch of metal on metal.
He sat up in the dark room.
“Come in and shut the door,” Mitch said when he saw Irina backlit by the hall light. He didn’t want her standing there like a target.
Irina closed the door and flipped on the wall switch. She stared at him from across the room, her gaze traveling slowly over his body.
“Hello, new boy.”
“Hi.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me where I’ve been?”
Irina removed a thin quilted jacket and hung it in the closet.
Beneath it, she wore formfitting black slacks with narrow tapered legs and a red wraparound top. She couldn’t be too much older than Mitch, but her body was lush and womanly and Mitch had the sudden image of rich fertile fields bursting with life. He unexpectedly had the urge to plant some part of himself in her, and he quickly forced the thought away.
“I told you I wasn’t your keeper.” He didn’t add that she could easily lie to him, so what was the point of asking.
“So you didn’t follow me today?” Irina asked.
“Jesus. No.” Mitch jumped up. “Was there someone?”
Irina shrugged. “Sometimes I thought yes. Sometimes no.”
“You’d be able to tell?”
She smiled grimly. “I am used to making myself invisible. And I know when eyes are on me.”
Mitch spun around to the window. The sidewalks below were deserted. In the patchy light filtering through the neighboring rowhouse windows, the cars lining the street all appeared empty. For one brief second he was so happy Sandy wasn’t here. Then he concentrated on Irina.
“Did you actually see anyone?”
Irina shook her head. “Many someones. No one I recognized.”
“All right. If you see anyone suspicious, or even think you see anyone, tell me.”
• 152 •
Justice for All
“Where are we going?”
“We need to let people know we’re a couple, so your…associates…
believe us. I’m taking you to a club. Then we’ll go to Ziggie’s.”
“Like a date,” Irina said.
“Like work,” Mitch replied. “We need to get you a warmer coat.
We’ll be riding my motorcycle again.”
“I’m all right.”
“No, you’re not. We’ll stop on Market Street and get you something.”
“It’s nighttime, Mitch.”
“Those places are always open.” Mitch held out his leather jacket.
“Wear this for now.”
Irina studied him curiously. “Why do you care? I am…an enemy.
No?”
“No.” Mitch couldn’t say that she reminded him of Sandy. She was very proud and in her own way, very brave. He couldn’t say that he wished someone had given Sandy a warmer coat, or that she would take his more often.
“What will you do with these men you want me to help you find?”
“They’ll be arrested, and they’ll probably go to prison.”
“They will be killed?”
Mitch shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends on what they’ve done and what can be proved.”
“I will be sent to prison?”
“What did Clark tell you?” When Mitch saw her blank expression, he said, “The federal agent who said you had to help us?”
Irina laughed bitterly. “He told me I would go free.”
“You don’t believe him.”
“Would you?”
“No, probably not.” Mitch held his jacket open and after a few seconds Irina slid her arms into it. When she turned to face him, he gently tugged it closed. “We’re going to try to help you.”
“You should not be a cop, new boy.”
“Why?”
Irina kissed him. “You are not hard enough.” She put her hand over his heart. “In here.”
• 153 •
RADclY fFe
Mitch hadn’t anticipated the kiss, not here and not like this, but he hadn’t felt anything other than an odd sadness. He put his hand on her back and guided her toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“Do your friends believe we are together?” she asked him as they walked down the hall.
“Yes.”
Irina smiled. “Good.”
v
Talia sipped her wine, stretched her stockinged feet out onto a silk brocade hassock, and launched another probe. She didn’t really expect the bot to strike pay dirt. Thus far, she hadn’t found any easily accessible back doors in JT Sloan’s corporate system. No admin shortcuts, config errors, easily deciphered passwords, or unsecured remote access ports.
Sloan’s system was completely unlike the one she’d encountered at Police Plaza when she’d done a quick scan a few hours earlier. After only moderate effort, she’d gotten in deep there. Granted, the average hacker would not have had such an easy time, but then she wasn’t average. She hadn’t launched a serious assault because she didn’t want to risk leaving a trail back to her home base—she’d only created her own back doors for access at some future time. With luck, a few would remain hidden long enough to be useful.
She chuckled as she encountered yet another roadblock. JT Sloan was very good. She thought back to the grainy newspaper images and the dark good looks that even the poor photographs couldn’t hide.
Intelligent, handsome, and something of a cipher herself, Sloan had stood among the players whose names Kratos had provided. Talia had run background checks on all of them, and while several were notable locally, Sloan and her partner McBride were ex-federal agents, and both their dossiers had more blacked-out sections than available information.
Sloan’s in particular had been thoroughly cleansed. Whatever she had done for the U.S. government, it had been cloaked under deep cover and high security.
“You’re going to be fun,” Talia murmured, sending a Trojan horse she doubted would get past Sloan’s firewalls. But even experts made mistakes sometimes, and she had no doubt she would eventually find this woman’s weakness.
• 154 •
Justice for All
Being able to envision Sloan’s face while battling her mind, on a field where few could compete with her as an equal, excited her. She was looking forward to meeting her in person. Bedding her, knowing that Sloan was unaware of her identity, would make the climax all the sweeter. Talia let her fingers drift over her nipples. They were hard and tingling beneath her sheer blouse. The wine warming her depths, the arousal that always accompanied a hunt, and the persistent image of her quarry made her want sex. The brief caress had created an answering echo between her legs, and she was aware of her clitoris throbbing. No one had captured her attention, mind and body, so completely in a very long time.
Finishing her wine, she called up another program and continued with her campaign to best JT Sloan. As she watched the screen, she reached for the phone beside her and punched in a number from memory.
A woman answered, her voice eager, as if she had been waiting for Talia’s call despite the late hour. “Yes?”
“Hello,” Talia said throatily. “I have been thinking of you.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Good.” Talia disconnected.
As she refilled her wine, she wasn’t thinking of the woman whose mouth would soon bring her to climax. She was envisioning a far more challenging and intriguing seduction.
• 155 •
• 156 •
Justice for All
ChAPTER FIFTEEN
This place,” Irina said as Mitch guided her toward the entrance of the Troc. “It is like Ziggie’s?”
“Not really.” Mitch grabbed the door and held it open. “No dancers here. Different kind of performers.”
Irina hesitated for a second, giving him an odd look. At first glance, the place did look like Ziggie’s. A large, dark, rectangular room that smelled faintly of old whiskey and spent desire. But the Troc wasn’t a strip club, and although customers might be getting it on in the shadows, sex wasn’t the main course. Entertainment was the chief offering, and at the moment, the Front Street Kings were on the stage.
“Mitch!” Jasmine glided out of the gloom like an exotic bird. Her coppery lamé dress was formfitting and cut low, accentuating the slender length of her elegant neck and a tease of cleavage. Her lustrous, artfully tangled blond tresses danced over milky shoulders. Taller than Mitch, she moved with a sinuous sensuality more innate than impersonated, wholly female. She draped her arms around Mitch’s neck and kissed him on the mouth. “I’ve missed you.”
Even prepared for Jasmine’s entrance, Mitch was caught off guard, especially when Jasmine stroked her tongue ever so lightly along the edge of his lip and snugged her pelvis into his. He clasped her waist automatically and pressed a little closer, and she responded with an audible purr. As if to remind him where he belonged, Irina gripped the back of his neck. Her possessive gesture was so much like something Sandy would do he experienced a few seconds of dizzying disorientation.
Jasmine finally took pity on him and eased away, trailing her
• 157 •
RADclY fFe
fingers over his chest before turning to take in Irina. “And who do we have here?”
“Jasmine, this is Irina.” Mitch slid his arm around Irina’s waist and tugged her against his side. “Jasmine is a friend of mine, Irina.”
“I see that,” Irina said, appraising Jasmine coolly. “You dance?”
“I sing,” Jasmine replied, her throaty voice carrying an edge.
“You like to play with boys like Mitch?”
Jasmine threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, I do. But I can see he’s going to be busy with you.”
Irina undulated against Mitch’s body and ran her hand slowly over his chest and down his stomach, then brushed her fingers along the swelling adjacent to his fly. “Yes. He is.”
Mitch caught the sparkle in Jasmine’s eyes and knew she was having fun jousting with Irina, but he didn’t need the two of them using his body as their combat zone. Jasmine was his friend, as well as his backup, and even though she was gorgeous and sexy and an outrageous tease, he’d never been attracted to her. His absence of desire had nothing to do with the fact that all that blinding sensuality was equal parts Jasmine and Jason McBride. Mitch just didn’t sexualize his friends. Irina, though, was different. She wasn’t his friend, and she wasn’t just teasing. Her hand was still on his cock, and he didn’t need a hard-on distracting him tonight.
“Let’s get a table, baby.” He shifted away from the questing fingers.
Jasmine smiled briefly at Irina and stroked Mitch’s cheek. “And I’ve got to get ready for my show. See you later?”
“Sure,” Mitch said and led Irina to a table as Jasmine disappeared.
“Want a beer or something?”
“Vodka.” Irina smiled. “It is the best liquor.”
“Ice?”
“Yes.”
He leaned down and kissed her. “I’ll be right back.”
At the bar, he gave his order and turned toward the stage to watch Phil and his other buddies perform. They were great. In between numbers, they changed clothes, effortlessly appearing first as hard rockers, then country-western stars, then suave crooners. They were handsome and rugged and sexy.
When an arm snaked around his waist, he expected Irina, but it
• 158 •
Justice for All
was Jasmine. “Ooh,” she crooned, “hello again.” She flicked a perfect nail over the fold of his fly. “Nice.”
“Are you trying to get my balls busted?” Mitch asked loud enough for anyone watching them to hear.
“Would I do that, lover?” Jasmine leaned closer, traced the edge of his ear with the tip of her tongue, and lowered her voice. “Everything okay?”
“Irina thinks she might have been followed today.”
Jasmine swayed against him to the beat pulsing from the speakers.
An observer would conclude she was into some serious cock-teasing.
“Frye know?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you still up for Ziggie’s?”
“Got to. Irina left a message we need to follow up on.”
“Don’t disappear until after my number. I want to stick close.” She kissed his cheek. “And try to keep your dick in your pants.”
“Right.” Mitch grabbed the drinks and returned to Irina. As she sipped the vodka, he asked, “How do you like the guys?”
“I know them from Ziggie’s. Nice boys, and they are good, what they do.”
“Yeah.”
“Jasmine.” Irina’s lips pursed. “She is very beautiful.”
“Like I said, she’s—”
“I’m your girlfriend, no?”
“Yes.”
“So I let her know you are not hers to touch.” Irina shrugged. “No woman would let another one kiss her man like that.”
Mitch didn’t want Irina to suspect that Jasmine was working with him, so he played along. “I think she got the message.”
Irina slowly stroked the inside of Mitch’s thigh. The back of her hand rubbed over his cock. “Good.”
v
“Hey, Mitch, my man!” Phil said exuberantly, crossing to the table and clapping Mitch on the back. He caught Irina’s hand and lifted it to his lips, bowing slightly as he kissed the back of her fingers. “And hello, beautiful lady. I’m Phil.”
• 159 •
RADclY fFe
“Hello, Phil,” Irina said, drawing out his name as if it were a delicacy.
Phil raised his eyes, his mouth still hovering over her hand.
Something glinted in their dark depths and his mouth quirked into a suggestive smile. “You’re far too fine to waste yourself on Mitch here.”
Irina laughed.
“Hey, that’s my date you’re drooling over,” Mitch complained good-naturedly. He kicked out the chair next to him. “Park it.”
“I didn’t get your name,” Phil said as he straightened, his gaze still on Irina.
She looked him over, taking her time. “Irina.”
Mitch could almost see Phil’s chest puffing up under the scrutiny.
Jesus, he looked like he wanted to take a bite out of her. Phil flirted with every woman, even Michael, but Mitch had never seen him look at a woman quite so intently before. Irina didn’t seem to mind. Mitch supposed he should act jealous, like Irina had acted with Jasmine. But Phil knew he had another girlfriend. Plus he and Irina weren’t a serious couple. They were just supposed to be dating. He cleared his throat.
“Want a beer, Phil?”
“Yeah,” Phil said, only taking his eyes off Irina’s face long enough to stare at the breasts molded by her tight red top. “That’d be great.
Thanks.”
By the time Mitch got back from his second drink run, the other Kings had arrived and were clustered around Irina at the table. She seemed to be enjoying the attention. He shuffled bottles around the table and reclaimed his seat. Jasmine was onstage, partway through her first number. Unlike many female impersonators, she didn’t lip-synch when performing. Her voice was sultry and rich, and as naturally feminine as the rest of her. Most of the men in the audience were riveted by her, their collective lust palpable. Mitch wondered how they dealt with the knowledge that this beautiful woman was also a man, but maybe that was part of the attraction.
Irina leaned close. “She is good.”
“Yeah,” Mitch agreed.
“She is not your girlfriend?”
“No way.” Laughing a little, Mitch kissed her neck. “You are, remember?”
• 160 •
Justice for All
“Hey, Mitch,” Ken called. “Give the rest of us a break, huh? We’re all out here in the cold.”
“We’re going to Ziggie’s later,” Phil said to Irina. “The night would be perfect if you would come with us.”
Irina smiled lazily at him while rubbing slow circles on Mitch’s stomach. “Mitch and I have plans for later.” At Phil’s crestfallen expression, she laughed softly. “But maybe for a little while. If Mitch wants.”
Phil cut his eyes to Mitch. “What do you say, buddy?”
What Mitch wanted to say was that Phil needed to get stuck on some other woman, because Irina was off-limits, for real. He didn’t want to see Phil get hurt. But he had a part to play, that of a good-time guy who didn’t mind sharing the wealth with his friends. Plus, he and Irina were headed to Ziggie’s, and going with the Kings just helped his cover. “Sure.”
“Good,” Irina said, standing. “I am going to freshen up. I will be back in a minute, Mitch.”
As soon as she was out of earshot Phil pulled his chair close to Mitch. “So just how serious are you about her?”
“What do you think?” Mitch said, trying to work out an answer.
“I think you’ve already got a hot girlfriend who’s going to fry your ass if she finds out you’re fooling around.” Phil grinned, although his eyes were unsmiling. “So I think you should let me take care of this one.”“I told you, I’m not married.” Mitch took another sip of his first beer. “And the thing with Irina is intense, you know? For right now.”
Phil regarded him fixedly for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay.
If things change, let me know.”
By the time Irina returned, Jasmine was on her last number. The Kings regaled Irina with stories of shows they had done, flirting and posturing for her. She was a natural-born actress, indulging them with smiles and laughter and carrying on as if she and Mitch were really on a date and this was just a fun night out.
A short while later, Jasmine joined them, having changed into a clingy sweater, tight black slacks, and heels. She settled into Phil’s lap, crossing her legs and demanding breathily, “So where’s the party?”
“We are all going to Ziggie’s.” Irina’s fingers were curled around Mitch’s thigh, but her eyes were on Phil. “Yes?”
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“Yes,” all of the Kings, including Mitch, responded enthusiastically.
Jasmine raised a sculpted brow at Mitch. “Oh, goodie.”
v
Mitch checked the road in his rearview mirror as he headed up Broad Street toward Ziggie’s. Irina hugged him tightly from behind, warming herself against his back, but he was still glad he’d stopped earlier to get her a hip-length leather coat. He could see his breath in the dark night air. Jasmine was with Phil and the guys in a car a few blocks ahead. If the lieutenant was behind him, he couldn’t see her.
After he pulled into the mouth of the alley and cut his engine, he pulled off his helmet and swiveled on the seat to face Irina. “If anyone in there wants you to leave with them, try to put them off. If that doesn’t work, say you’re not going anywhere without me. Say you’re scared because of what happened at the house. Tell them I took care of you, protected you. You feel safe with me along.”
“These men. They are much stronger than you,” Irina said, her hands now resting lightly on the outside of his hips. “You cannot fight them if they force me to go with them.”
Mitch shook his head. “I’m not letting them take you. Don’t worry about that.”
“You could let me go. You could say you couldn’t stop them.”
“They’re not going to let you find your sister,” Mitch said. He believed that to be true, but it didn’t make him feel any better about preying on her fears. Manipulating her. “We can help you find her. But you have to help us.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment, her eyes probing into his. “They will not be so easy to convince as your friends that we are together.”
“Whatever it takes.”
Irina reached between his legs and squeezed his cock, pressing it into the apex of his thighs. “And if they want proof?”
Mitch laughed hoarsely. “Like what? Unlike flesh-and-blood cocks, mine doesn’t shoot—so what exactly would they see?”
“You would fuck me if they say?”
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“Jesus.” Mitch slid his fingers between his cock and Irina’s hand, and clasped her fingers gently. “I’m not going to let them force me to treat you like that. I’ll convince them some other way. Don’t worry.”
“I am not the one to worry.” Irina stroked his face. “It is you they will hurt.”
v
“What the hell were you doing out there, spawning?” Jasmine hissed when Mitch slid into the booth with her and the Kings. An assortment of beers and a vodka on ice sat in the middle of the table already. “Where’s Irina?”
“She went to talk to the bartender.”
“And you let her? What if she slips out the back?”
“She won’t.” At Jasmine’s frown, Mitch said impatiently, “I can see her from here. Besides, if she wanted to ditch me she could have done it anytime today.” He lowered his voice. “What about the backup?”
“I called Frye from my dressing room at the club. They should’ve picked you up on your way here.”
“Okay.” Mitch felt a little steadier knowing that the lieutenant and Watts were outside. Working undercover was lonely and scary, even though it was a rush, too. He glanced past Jasmine and saw Phil craning his neck, watching Irina. He hoped Phil believed him that Irina and he were an item, and that he would keep his word to stay away from her. He especially hoped he was becoming more adept at lying. Sandy always said he sucked at it.
“Uh-oh,” Jasmine whispered. “She’s heading toward the back.”
Mitch pushed out of the booth. “There’s a rear door. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, check the alley for my bike. If it’s still there but we’re not, it will probably mean we had to go somewhere to keep our cover. Hopefully the lieutenant will pick us up.”
“Just don’t let them take Irina.”
“I’m not planning on it.” Mitch hurried after Irina, knowing events didn’t always turn out as planned.
v
• 163 •
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“Hey! What’s going on?” Mitch demanded when he discovered Irina with her back against the wall, pinned by a hulking guy with fair hair cut so close to his head he appeared at first glance to be bald. His arm muscles bunched beneath a tight white T-shirt, and his tree trunk–
sized thighs bracketed Irina’s lower body. He turned his head and gave Mitch a flat, cold stare.
Acting on instinct, heart thumping in his chest, Mitch ignored the guy and caressed Irina’s shoulder. “You okay, baby?”
“Who is this?” the man growled in accented English.
“I am with him,” Irina said, a note of defiance in her voice.
The Russian looked Mitch up and down and made a dismissive sound. “You need a man? I can take care of that.”
Irina sneered. “Like Yuri did?”
She pushed against her captor’s chest, and he moved back as if surprised. She had just enough room to slither out from beneath his arm. Mitch immediately pulled her close and angled his body so he was standing between her and the man he presumed was one of the Russian enforcers.
“Yuri did nothing to protect us when the police came,” Irina spat.
“Mitch helped me get away. All the others at the house…” She made an angry gesture. “Gone.”
“You come with me,” the Russian said, grabbing her arm.
“Back off,” Mitch warned, hoping he’d be able to get off at least one punch before the guy planted one of his huge fists in his face.
“She comes with me,” the Russian said.
Mitch shook his head. “No way.”
Just when he was sure the guy was going to swing, Jasmine appeared out of nowhere. “There you are!” she exclaimed, rushing up.
“We’re ready for the next stop.” She looped her arm through Irina’s, dragging her a few feet down the hall. “I just love club hopping.” Over her shoulder she called to Mitch, “Are you coming or are you going to let the other boys have all the fun?”
The Russian’s eyes flamed. “You are making a mistake, Irina.”
She slowed until Mitch reached her side, then said, “Tell Olik if he wants me, he has to come himself. Not send his lapdog.”
When the Russian’s face suffused with fury, Mitch hurried both Irina and Jasmine back into the main part of the bar.
“Jealous boyfriend?” Jasmine said archly.
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Irina gave her a feral smile. “I would not let him fuck my shoe.”
“Oh, poor Mitch.” Jasmine laughed. “You’re going to run him ragged.”
“He does not wear out easily.” Irina whispered in Mitch’s ear, “We should go before he calls someone.”
“I guess that’s my cue to get started,” Mitch said with a grin.
“We’ll catch you all another night.”
When the Kings called good night, Mitch noticed that Phil didn’t look up from the table.
“What about this guy Olik?” Mitch asked Irina as they headed for the door. “How do we get to him?”
She flicked a long, dark strand of hair away from her face. “He will come for me.”
• 165 •
• 166 •
Justice for All
ChAPTER SIxTEEN
Rebecca slipped into bed just before dawn. When Catherine turned toward her, she said, “You don’t need to wake up just yet.”
“Mmm.” Catherine ran her hands up and down Rebecca’s back.
“You’re warm. Feels nice.” She burrowed into Rebecca’s neck. “Smells nice.”
Rebecca chuckled. “I took a shower in the guest room. I was trying not to wake you up.”
Catherine slipped a firm thigh between Rebecca’s. “I thought you promised you would.”
Rebecca sucked in a breath. The silky glide of Catherine’s flesh between her legs teased her into full arousal in seconds. “I didn’t think I’d be so late.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes.” Rebecca couldn’t manage more than short sentences as Catherine rocked her leg steadily, insistently, into her. “Stayed to watch Mitch. All quiet.”
“You’re making my leg wet,” Catherine whispered. “So hot, so slick.”
Rebecca groaned. Her vision grew dark at the edges as she stroked her hand along the curve of Catherine’s hip, to the dip at her waist, and up to cradle the full oval of her breast. She rubbed the pad of her thumb over the tight ball of Catherine’s nipple. Catherine surged in her arms, her thigh driving high between Rebecca’s legs—opening her, cleaving her. Rebecca arched her hips and thrust, tormenting her already tortured
• 167 •
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clitoris, forcing it back and forth over Catherine’s leg. Her mouth was on Catherine’s, and she matched the pulsations between her legs with deep, probing sweeps of her tongue. When Catherine gripped her hips to increase the force of her thrusting thigh, Rebecca broke away, panting for breath.
“You’re going to make me come,” she warned.
“That’s right. I love it when you come,” Catherine said fervently.
“I love to feel you shatter in my arms, so beautiful.” I love it when you need me, she didn’t say. I love to protect you. “Oh God, touch me. I can’t stand it. I’ve needed to come for hours.”
Rebecca pushed her hand between their bodies and cupped Catherine’s sex, her fingers sliding up and down the smooth, hot valley, her thumb sweeping back and forth across the rigid clitoris.
Catherine jerked in her arms, and Rebecca felt her control unravel. She concentrated, bearing down with her thumb.
“Oh, darling,” Catherine murmured, burying her face in Rebecca’s neck. “So good. You’re so good. Stay on it, darling, stay—oh God, just like that.”
“Catherine,” Rebecca moaned, her clitoris threatening to release.
The pressure was agonizing, her mind incapable of thought. Her hips pumped, and the burning spread outward from the apex of her thighs.
“It’s coming. I can’t…oh, fuck, here I come.”
“Don’t stop, I’m close,” Catherine gasped, her teeth setting into the muscle stretched taut along Rebecca’s neck. “I’m so so clo…oh!”
Catherine’s cry ignited Rebecca, and she shuddered as heat raced through her. She fired fast, peaked hard, and came down quickly, but Catherine kept pulsing in her hand, undulating waves of pleasure filling her palm.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Catherine whimpered breathlessly.
Rebecca massaged her until the last spasms quieted, then wrapped her tightly in her arms. “I love you.”
“Oh, I love you.” Catherine rested her face against Rebecca’s chest. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” Rebecca promised, her heart twisting. She knew Catherine would never have asked if all her defenses hadn’t just been shattered, and she might not even remember it later. But Rebecca would not forget the helpless plea in her voice. She kissed her, slowly, as she stroked her hair and her back, calming her. “I won’t.”
• 168 •
Justice for All
Catherine smoothed trembling fingers lightly over Rebecca’s mouth, as if to stop her from making promises impossible to keep.
“Hold me. Just hold me.”
Rebecca could give her that, and she did.
v
“Hey,” Michael whispered, resting both hands on Sloan’s shoulders. “Any chance I could talk you into coming to bed? It’s late, and you didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Sloan tilted her head back against Michael’s midsection and closed her eyes. When Michael’s fingers threaded through her hair and massaged her scalp, she groaned.
Laughing softly, Michael leaned down and kissed the angle of her jaw. Circling her fingertips over Sloan’s temples, she said, “You’re tired, darling. And this case is just getting started.”
“Someone’s trying to crack my system,” Sloan murmured, her eyes still closed. “But they’re playing games.”
“What does that mean?” Michael asked with a frown.
“They’re not really trying to hide what they’re doing. They’re letting me see them, like a game of hide and seek.” Sloan grasped Michael’s hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Or chess.”
“Really? Why would a hacker do that?”
Sloan shook her head. “Arrogance. Boredom. Maybe he hasn’t had anyone at his level to compete with. Because he’s good. Very good. I can’t find his trail.” She took a deep breath and let it out with a frustrated sigh. “He knows how to bait the hook.”
“Playing with you.” Michael caressed Sloan’s neck, then slid a hand under the top of her T-shirt and rubbed her chest. “Not very smart.”
Sloan arched in the chair, her hand drifting away from the keyboard for the first time in hours. “Michael. You’re cheating.”
“I never cheat,” Michael whispered softly in her ear. “I just play to win. Are you coming to bed?” She caught her breath as Sloan’s eyes opened and sought hers, unguarded arousal shimmering through the blue depths. “God, darling. Say yes.”
Sloan stood, shoved the desk chair away with her foot, and caught Michael against her chest. She kissed her, filling her hands with
• 169 •
RADclY fFe
Michael’s hair and her senses with Michael’s scent. “Yes. Definitely, yes.”
v
Sandy sat up, instantly alert, at the quiet snick of the door lock catching. Dell looked even paler than usual in the gray early-morning light, her eyes shadowed and wary. The bedside clock said 6:30 a.m.
She’d been out all night. With Irina. Dell stood statue still as if awaiting judgment until Sandy flicked back the sheet, indicating the bed beside her.
Wordlessly, Dell stripped, then climbed into bed and lay on her back.
“Are you all right?” Sandy asked.
“Yeah.”
“Did something happen?”
“Not really.”
“How come you’re so late?”
Dell sighed. She’d wanted to come earlier, but she didn’t want to leave Irina until she was certain no one had followed them. She couldn’t leave her unprotected.
“Sorry.”
“I didn’t ask you to be sorry.” Sandy rolled onto her side and put her hand on Dell’s stomach. The muscles were hard as wood. Dell’s stomach felt that way when she was getting ready to come, or when she was really upset. Sandy rubbed up and down, slow steady sweeps, and Dell shivered. “You’re really wired, baby.”
“Things got a little tense for a few minutes. They sent muscle to collect Irina.”
“Did they take her?”
“No,” Dell said hoarsely.
“Did things get physical?”
“Almost.”
Sandy sucked in a breath. What Dell was doing was dangerous.
Dell knew it, and she knew it. Telling her to be careful wouldn’t do any good. Asking her not to do what she needed to do wasn’t an option. She shifted on top of Dell and wiggled her hips between Dell’s legs, forcing her to open. As soon as Dell parted her thighs, Sandy pushed her way
• 170 •
Justice for All
down on the bed and pressed her cheek in the delta at the base of Dell’s belly. Dell’s clitoris was erect, a firm bulge against her face. She shifted and brushed her lips over it.
Dell dragged in a shaky breath.
“I’m going to take care of this so you can sleep,” Sandy whispered, her lips moving over the distended shaft. “You want?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Will you come for me, baby?”
“Will you do me really slow?” Dell’s voice broke. “So I can feel everything?”
“As slow as you want, for as long as you need.” Sandy dropped feather-light kisses over Dell’s clitoris, her inner lips, the insides of her thighs. She teased under the hood with just the tip of her tongue, sweeping round and round, until Dell’s hips bucked and twisted. She licked, she sucked, she stroked the flat of her tongue the length of Dell’s sex. When Dell’s legs trembled, Sandy held her down, closing her hands over Dell’s lean, taut thighs. When Dell gasped for breath, Sandy stilled, keeping her just on the edge of exploding, knowing the buildup would make the release all the sweeter. She knew what Dell needed.
She needed to go beyond thought, beyond fear, beyond uncertainty. She needed to drown in pleasure, to be held in safety.
“Sandy,” Dell groaned.
“You need to come now, baby?” Sandy crooned, sliding first one finger, then two, inside. With her other hand she pressed on the base of Dell’s stomach, forcing her clitoris to stand up straight. “Want to come in my mouth?”
“Please.” Dell’s voice was unsteady and low.
Sandy pulled on Dell’s length with long strokes of her pursed lips. She kept it up, stroke after stroke, as Dell arched and mumbled incoherent pleas, then looked up to see Dell propped on her elbows, staring down at her with a dazed, delirious expression. She felt Dell’s clitoris expand, saw her face twist in an agony of pleasure, and curled her fingers forward to massage the spot that made Dell’s clitoris leap between her lips.
“Uh.” Dell jerked. Once. Twice. Then her arms gave way and she fell back with a cry, writhing as her muscles tightened and convulsed.
“Keep sucking. Just suck. Jesus!”
Sandy lost count of how many times she coaxed Dell’s clitoris to
• 171 •
RADclY fFe
stiffen and explode, but she kept working it until Dell whimpered for her to stop. She was so high on the power she couldn’t. She wanted to make Dell come again. She wanted Dell to be hers, and only hers, forever. She teased the swollen head with her tongue and Dell twisted away.
“Babe, please,” Dell whispered weakly. “Hold me. San?”
“I’m here, baby,” Sandy said instantly, clambering up to pull Dell into her arms. Dell was nearly twice her size, but it didn’t matter. Right now, she felt like a giant. She tightened her grip on Dell’s shoulders and rocked her. “I love you, baby.”
“I need you, San.”
“Shh.” Sandy kissed Dell’s sweaty brow and stroked her face.
“You go to sleep now, baby.”
“Play with your clit,” Dell murmured, cradled in Sandy’s arms.
“Know you need to.”
“I’m okay, baby.”
Dell nuzzled Sandy’s breast and drew her nipple into her mouth.
When she bit down, Sandy felt as if she’d been electrocuted. Her legs jerked and her clit twitched like crazy. She reached for it, moaning when she discovered how wet and hard she was. She hadn’t been aware of her own excitement until then. All she’d known was Dell. Fingers squeezing, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against the top of Dell’s head.
“Good?” Dell muttered.
“Uh-huh,” Sandy whispered, twisting and tugging her aching clit. A huge balloon filled her insides until she couldn’t breathe. She squeezed and pulled until the balloon burst open and she was coming.
“God, baby. God!”
Dell sighed with pleasure and relaxed in her arms. Sandy stroked her until she heard her breathing slow and knew she was falling asleep.
She knew that if anyone came through that door wanting to hurt Dell, she would kill them. She only wished she could always be there to protect her.
• 172 •
Justice for All
ChAPTER SEvENTEEN
Kratos folded the Wall Street Journal and set it aside as his driver pulled the Town Car to a stop in a parking lot in the shadows of the Benjamin Franklin Bridge. A blustery wind was coming off the Delaware River, but he did not button his topcoat when his bodyguard opened the door. Bareheaded, he stepped out and approached a black Mercedes SUV with darkened windows, his bodyguard and Vincent on either side of him. The two Russians standing next to the vehicle watched him, their broad, heavy features expressionless. He stopped a few yards away and waited. The rear door opened and a thin, blond man in a cashmere coat similar to his own stepped out.
“Stay here,” Kratos said to his companions.
“Boss,” Vincent muttered, clearly unhappy.
“I shouldn’t be too long.”
Kratos walked to the edge of the pier, ignoring the two Russian bodyguards, deliberately giving them his back as if they were of no consequence to him at all. He wanted to reinforce that they were on his turf, where he held the power, and that he did not fear them. Mind games. The kind he loved.
A few seconds later, the Russian boss stepped up beside him.
Kratos did not turn his head to acknowledge the other man. “Winter is coming,” he said, staring out at the muddy river.
“Good,” the Russian said. “Cold weather is good for business.
Men want to be inside with a warm woman.”
Kratos laughed briefly. “Are you going to be able to supply what we need?”
“There are always girls.”
• 173 •
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“Yes, but not ones as beautiful and easy to manage as yours.”
Kratos disliked discussing the specifics of business with anyone because the only thing he was certain of was that no one could be trusted. Still, a discussion outdoors in the wind in an open parking lot was as safe as any could be, unless the Russian was wired. To counter the possibility, Vincent carried a radio frequency jammer in his pocket that would distort audio transmissions enough to make the recording inadmissible in court. “I understand that you have lost a substantial amount of your inventory.”
The Russian shrugged. “When your authorities lose interest in us, I will bring more. Until then, the American product will do.”
“My clients are used to quality,” Kratos said.
He provided women to some of the most powerful men in the state, in several states, and they expected beauty, compliance, and skill. They also expected anonymity. He couldn’t send common prostitutes or even high-class escorts who might recognize the men or who might be under surveillance themselves. The only reason he had allowed the Russians to move in on a corner of his prostitution business was because they could provide him with young, attractive, healthy girls who were no threat to his high-powered clients. The Russian girls wouldn’t recognize the men, and even if they did, they didn’t speak enough English to be able to betray anyone. Many of his clients preferred the young Russians for another reason, even if their expertise was sometimes lacking. For these men, power was more erotic than flesh, and the combination of fear and innocence was more appealing in a woman than a talented mouth.
“Do not concern yourself,” the Russian boss said. “Your clients will have everything they want.” He looked at Kratos for the first time.
“How is it that your police interfere with my business, but not yours?”
Kratos shook his head. “I am sorry for your misfortune. I’ll do what I can to interest them elsewhere.” He didn’t add for a price, but it was understood. If he used his influence to divert the investigation, the Russian would be in his debt. It was also understood that when he called in the debt, he would collect many-fold. He waited.
The Russian nodded. “I would be grateful.”
“Think nothing of it, my friend.” Satisfied, Kratos turned to go.
“I will need another house. Two would be better.”
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Justice for All
“Someone will call you with the addresses,” Kratos said without looking back. He nodded to Vincent, who stepped behind him to protect his back until he slid inside the car once more. As they moved off, he called Talia. With his supply lines secured, he could accelerate his plans to disrupt the investigation.
v
“You know, we could just skip this thing,” Sloan said, wiping water from her eyes and groping at a nearby counter.
“Looking for this?” Michael teased, holding up a large white terry-cloth towel. She wore a pale blue silk robe tied at the waist.
At the sight of her breasts moving gently beneath the thin material, Sloan cared even less about the benefit they were supposed to attend.
She was also tired. And frustrated. After being lured to bed the night before, she’d actually fallen asleep for a few hours, then worked all day trying to discover who was attempting to breach her system. She’d made little progress tracing the source of the cyberattacks and was increasingly worried that Michael would be drawn into danger because of the new investigation.
“Couldn’t you find anything to wear?” she asked. Michael had been choosing a dress for the benefit when Sloan got home.
“I got distracted.” At Sloan’s look of confusion, Michael laughed.
In slow, succinct bites, she explained, “You. Naked. Taking a shower.”
“Sorry.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
Sloan heard the words, but it was the invitation in Michael’s voice that held her attention. “How are you feeling?”
“Wonderful.” Michael hooked a finger around the top of the towel and pulled it loose. When it dropped to the floor, she wrapped her arms around Sloan’s neck and kissed her, moving from her mouth over her jaw, and then down her neck.
“I’m going to get you all wet,” Sloan murmured.
“Done,” Michael whispered. She licked a bead of water from the hollow at the base of Sloan’s throat as she caressed the muscles in Sloan’s shoulders and back. “You snuck out of bed this morning before I had a chance to say good morning.”
• 175 •
RADclY fFe
Sloan reached back and grasped the edge of the counter on either side of her body. She let her head fall back as Michael cupped her breasts and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry. Again.”
“Really?” Michael murmured, drawing a nipple between her lips.
“Not so much right now.” Sloan closed her eyes. “Michael. The time.”
“Don’t worry.” Michael dropped to her knees and slid both hands around to Sloan’s ass. “We have plenty.”
Sloan looked down, mesmerized as Michael kissed her belly, then the angle of her thighs, then the sensitive cleft between. She hissed between her teeth. “If you’re just teasing…”
Michael glanced up, her lids heavy, her mouth curved into a hungry smile. “Oh, I’m teasing. In fact, I think you should see just how much.”
She dragged her nails lightly over the crest of Sloan’s hipbones and down her stomach. Then she used both thumbs to part Sloan’s swollen flesh. She held Sloan’s eyes for another few seconds before extending her tongue and flicking at Sloan’s clitoris.
Sloan tightened her thighs, which suddenly felt like jelly, and leaned forward to watch Michael play with her. Her clit had already plumped up to its full size at the first touch of Michael’s tongue, and now it twitched with each lick. “Do you want me to come in your mouth?”
“Try not to right away,” Michael murmured, sucking Sloan’s clitoris delicately between her lips.
“I really really want to,” Sloan warned, her voice catching in her throat.
Laughing softly, Michael released her clitoris and stroked her tongue deeper into Sloan’s center. When Sloan groaned, Michael traced Sloan’s inner lips with a fingertip down to the muscled ring between her buttocks. She massaged the tight opening and took Sloan’s clitoris into her mouth again.
“That’s going to make me come,” Sloan said desperately. “Oh, baby, really soon.” She felt her clitoris rise and stiffen as heat poured into her stomach. The pressure took her breath away.
Michael’s fingertip entered her and the reflex muscle spasm made her clit jerk. Michael murmured appreciatively and repeated the motion.
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Justice for All
Sloan twitched. “You make me want to come so bad.” She watched Michael’s tongue swirl over her clit. “Can you fuck me, baby? I’m right there.”
With a sharp cry of pleasure, Michael pulled on Sloan’s clitoris with her mouth and pumped her finger in and out of the smooth tight ring of muscle. Sloan’s orgasm crashed through her with such force she shouted, and she doubled over, clutching Michael’s shoulders to keep from falling.
Then Michael was in her arms, her mouth against Sloan’s ear. “In me, Sloan. Hurry, darling. Hurry.”
Sloan kissed her, plunging her tongue into Michael’s mouth as she filled her with her fingers. Michael trembled in her arms as her hips rocked, demanding satisfaction. Sloan caught her rhythm and thrust, her tongue and her hand moving together, forcing Michael to feel all of her, everywhere inside.
“Oh yes,” Michael cried, tossing her head back, eyes slammed shut as she tightened on Sloan’s fingers. “Yes, darling. Yes.”
When Michael slumped in her arms, Sloan caressed her hair and gently kissed her. “We’re going to need another shower.”
Michael laughed. “I’ve missed that so much.”
“I love you.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Michael nipped at Sloan’s chin. “Come on.
Let’s get this event done with so I can have you again.”
v
Talia held the door open for Kratos.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, his eyes taking her in.
“Not at all.” Talia had almost changed her mind about meeting him at the door in a dressing gown because she did not want to be too obvious about wielding her body as a weapon. His attraction to her blunted his usually intense focus and gave her a slight advantage in their business dealings, but she did not delude herself into thinking she was safe with him.
Men like Kratos Zamora were wholly without sentimentality for anyone other than their wives and children. She had no doubt he would dispatch her without a second’s thought if he felt she had become a
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liability. Or a threat. He was a powerful man who wielded his power as much for the pleasure of it as anything else. She wasn’t entirely convinced that he cared about the police investigation or the fact that his dealings with his Russian colleagues might be disrupted. She thought he might simply want to prove that he was beyond the reach of the authorities by beating them at their own game.
“Come into the sitting room,” she said. “The maid will bring coffee in a few minutes.”
Talia led him into the adjoining parlor, where a fire burned in the fireplace. She sat in one of the upholstered English armchairs and Kratos took the other. She could tell from the way his eyes lingered on her breasts that her choice of the burgundy satin robe was as distracting as she intended. She willed her nipples not to rise. She wasn’t aroused by his desire, but rather by the game between them. The danger inherent in any encounter with him always aroused her, and she enjoyed the edgy anticipation in the pit of her stomach.
“I took your advice,” he said, finally meeting her eyes. He slipped a small envelope from inside his jacket and placed it on the Queen Anne table between their chairs. “I had an interesting business meeting yesterday.”
Intrigued, Talia picked up the envelope and lifted the flap. A memory card was the only thing inside. She laughed softly. “Let me guess. Photos?”
Kratos nodded.
“We’re very much alike, you and I,” she mused.
“How is that?”
“Easy victories are far from satisfying,” Talia observed. She was talking about Kratos’s campaign against the authorities who had the audacity to challenge his power, but she might just as well have been talking about his interest in her.
“Sometimes,” Kratos said, his voice smooth and seductive,
“playing can be almost as pleasurable as winning.”
“Then by all means,” Talia said. “Let’s make the game a challenge.”
v
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Whistling softly, Sloan threaded the gold and platinum cufflinks through her French cuffs as she walked into the kitchen. She thought a glass of wine with Michael before they left would be nice because once they arrived at the benefit, Michael would be busy networking and they would spend the rest of the evening in their separate spheres. Between the recent investigations and Michael’s injury, they’d had very little time to enjoy one another, and she realized how unbalanced her life had become without the simple joy of being with Michael.
Sloan stopped in the doorway when she saw Dell Mitchell standing in front of the refrigerator with two bottles of beer in her hand. She wore threadbare gray sweats hanging low on her hips and a black sleeveless T-shirt with the PPD emblem.
“Hey,” Sloan said. “How are you doing?”
“I’m solid. You look slick.”
Sloan glanced down at her tux shirt and pants and shrugged.
“Gotta play the game.”
“Yeah,” Dell said, twisting the cap off one of the bottles before taking a long swallow. She still had dark circles under her eyes, but she looked a little more rested than the last time Sloan had seen her. “I know what you mean.”
Sloan reached for a bottle of wine and fished a corkscrew out of the drawer. She lowered her voice. “Things going okay with Irina?”
“I think we’re getting somewhere. At least we’re attracting some attention from the Russians.”
“Frye know?”
Dell nodded. “Yeah. I filled her in on the phone a while ago.”
“We’re all tied up tonight, so you need to stay off the streets. No backup.”
“I’m just going to check on Irina in a while. I don’t know how hard anyone is looking for her, and she’s alone.”
Sloan frowned and pulled the cork from the bottle. “Keep your eyes open.”
“Will do.”
“Jasmine with you last night?”
Dell smiled. “Oh yeah. She’s amazing. Hot too.”
“Hot.” Sloan chuckled. “That she is. And then some.”
“Out here talking about other women?” Michael said as she came
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around the corner. She held out her hand for the glass of wine Sloan had filled. “Is that for me?”
Wordlessly, Sloan handed it to her, taking in Michael’s midnight blue evening dress. The color made her eyes even more vivid, and the form-hugging cut accentuated her slender body and full breasts. In heels, she was taller than Sloan, close to six feet, and she looked as if she had just stepped off a Manhattan runway. Sloan swallowed hard, instantly wanting Michael’s mouth on her again.
“Wow,” Dell blurted.
Sloan cut her a look.
“Hello, Dell,” Michael said. “Everything all right?”
“Fine.”
Sandy ambled in wearing one of Dell’s T-shirts and something under it that wasn’t immediately visible. She went directly to Dell, took the open beer bottle from her hand, and said, “Stop drooling over Michael.”
“I’m not!” Dell exclaimed.
“Uh-huh.” Sandy settled her butt into Dell’s crotch and sipped the beer. Dell wrapped an arm around her middle. “You look awesome.
Both of you.”
Michael smiled. “Thanks. I almost feel like we’re going out on a date.”
Inwardly, Sloan grimaced. Nothing could be further from the truth. She was supposed to be watching Kratos Zamora, trying to find out who his upper-echelon political associates might be. And she was going to be busy keeping Michael far away from him. She was not looking forward to the evening.
“I want to stop downstairs for a second,” she told Michael. “I’ve got a program running I need to check. Give me five minutes, okay?”
Michael stroked her cheek. “Promise you won’t get distracted?”
Sloan caught her wrist and kissed her fingers. “Promise.”
“Go ahead, then,” Michael whispered.
Sloan nodded to Dell and Sandy and took the stairs down to the third floor. She had set several programs to launch in an attempt to trace probes being sent out against her system. She wanted to see if they’d been activated. As soon as she caught sight of her main screen, she knew there was a problem. Images flickered across the surface, where there should be only data.
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As she drew closer and could make out details, a red haze of fury clouded her vision at the same time as her stomach turned to cold, hard stone. She stared at photos of Michael. Michael stepping out of the building. Michael at the wheel of her car. Michael talking to several colleagues in the lobby of her building. And one final photo that seared into her brain.
Michael seated at a window table in a restaurant with Kratos Zamora.
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ChAPTER EIghTEEN
Sloan?” Michael reached across the space between them and put her hand on Sloan’s thigh. “What’s wrong?”
Sloan hit the gas and whipped the Porsche around one of the many horse-drawn carriages that shared the roads in Old City, providing tours of the myriad historic sites. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She wasn’t certain what she was going to do when she was actually in the same room as Kratos Zamora. She could still see him leaning slightly across the restaurant table toward Michael, his expression intent, as if he were riveted to every word Michael might say. Michael had been laughing, and she was so damned beautiful. Beautiful and innocent. Innocent of the kinds of games that men like Zamora played. Innocent of the world he lived in and that Sloan had lived in not so long ago. There were no dark places in Michael’s heart, no monsters buried in her past. Michael was everything good and pure in Sloan’s life, and she would kill to prevent anyone from changing that.
“You know how much I hate these things.” She kept a grip on the wheel, afraid Michael would see her hands shaking. Her head pounded with rage.
Michael always knew when Sloan was holding something in, forcing something down, containing her anger. She rubbed her hand up and down Sloan’s thigh. The muscles were hard as iron, and even in the low light of the car, the set of Sloan’s jaw was unmistakable. She was oh so very good at holding on to her control. Except the price for that remarkable control was distance, the one thing Michael could not bear.
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“I’ve only had you for a few minutes tonight,” Michael whispered.
“Please don’t go away so soon.”
The pain in her voice cut through the wall of Sloan’s fury like nothing else could. She dropped her hand from the wheel and covered Michael’s, lacing their fingers together. “I’m sorry. I’m…a little preoccupied with the investigation.” Forcing a smile, she lifted Michael’s hand to her lips. “And I really do hate these fancy parties.”
“For someone who looks so good in a tux, that’s a shame.” Michael withdrew her hand and moved it to the back of Sloan’s neck. She toyed with the wavy black strands that curled over the stiff collar of Sloan’s shirt. “You know I don’t resent your work, don’t you?”
Sloan nodded.
“What’s hard for me is losing you to it.”
“You don’t,” Sloan said hoarsely. She glanced at Michael, then back at the road. “You’re always in my heart. I’m sorry if I—”
“Pull over.”
Wordlessly, Sloan obeyed. As soon as she slid the transmission into Park, the powerful engine still idling, Michael leaned over for a kiss. With a soft groan, Sloan gave herself over to the silky heat of Michael’s mouth. She wished she could take her home, away from the evil and depravity, and let Michael exorcize her fear and anger. But Michael was a woman with her own needs, her own life, and Sloan could not protect her from everything that might hurt her.
“Does this mean you forgive me?” Sloan asked when she drew back for a breath.
Michael smiled and skimmed her fingertip over Sloan’s mouth.
“Nothing to forgive. That was me telling you I love you exactly the way you are.”
Sloan lowered her head. If Michael knew everything about her, she might not say that. She whispered, “I love you so much.”
“You love me exactly the right way.” Michael stroked Sloan’s hair.
“Someday, my darling Sloan, I want you to help me do the same.”
“You do,” Sloan exclaimed.
“Only as much as you let me.” Michael smiled a little sadly. “Now we need to go.”
Sloan let out a long breath and put the car in gear. “Let’s do this thing.”
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v
“You can leave your dick in the drawer,” Sandy said, crossing her arms beneath her small breasts. “Because Mitch isn’t going anywhere tonight.”
Dell pulled on her clean T-shirt and stared at Sandy. “What the fuck, San?”
Perched on the edge of the bed, still in her T-shirt and panties, Sandy said, “I heard Sloan say you don’t have any backup tonight. So you can’t work.”
“What else did you hear?” Dell grabbed a clean pair of black jeans from the pile of clothes Sandy had brought from her apartment. She didn’t exactly mean to keep secrets from Sandy, but she hated for her to get worked up about things that might happen. Or might not. And she definitely didn’t want her getting worked up over Irina. Like that was ever gonna happen. “Thanks for bringing clothes for me.”
“Let’s see. You were saying…” Sandy put a finger on her chin as if she were thinking. “Oh, right. You’ve also got a hard-on for Jasmine.”
“I do not!” Dell stuffed her T-shirt into her jeans and bent over to strap on her ankle holster before pulling on her motorcycle boots. “I just said she was hot. Merely an observation.”
“Oh yeah. Like a guy says a girl has great tits, but he’s not really thinking about getting his hands on them or anything.”
“I didn’t say she has great tits. Actually, I think she has a great mouth.” Dell ducked, laughing as Sandy grabbed the pillow from behind her and flung it.
“You blockhead.” Sandy flung the other pillow. “There’s no way Jasmine could ever give you the kind of blow job I can. I don’t care how pretty her mouth looks.”
Dell dropped to her knees in front of Sandy and wrapped her arms around Sandy’s waist. She pulled her to the edge of the bed until she could pillow her face against her breasts, then she nuzzled Sandy’s nipple through the thin cotton T-shirt. “Babe, nobody can do anything to me the way you can.” She tilted her head back and kissed Sandy’s chin. “How come you’re so grumpy?”
“Maybe because my girlfriend is spending every night with a girl who wants to get into her pants.” Sandy tugged a fistful of Dell’s hair,
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and her expression darkened. “Maybe because you’re coming home so wound up I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt out there.”
“Babe.” Dell stroked Sandy’s cheek. “I’m being careful. I promise.
And I’m going to be back early tonight. It’s just a quick check, okay?”
Sandy ran her fingertips over Dell’s eyebrows, then kissed her.
“Do what you have to. Just keep your dick on ice. ’Kay?”
“I will.” Dell stood and grabbed her motorcycle jacket. “I’ll be back really soon.”
Sandy waited until she heard the elevator go down, then headed for the shower. It was Saturday night, and she had things to do too.
v
Rebecca angled through the crowd toward Sloan, who stood next to the bar set up against one wall, cradling a glass of liquor in her hand.
The city’s wealthy and influential occupied most of the linen-covered tables filling the banquet hall. At the front of the room, a dais stood in the center of an elevated stage, flanked by two tables. Catherine and several board members from city and charitable organizations sat at one table. Michael sat at the other, between the mayor and Kratos Zamora, directly on her left. The police commissioner occupied the end seat next to Zamora.
After the obligatory mingling over hors d’oeuvres and drinks, dinner had been served and now the real work of the evening began.
Speakers took the stage in turns praising the mayor’s efforts to support the city’s poor and disenfranchised and strengthen the local economy.
Pleas were made for more donations and pledges of support for the mayor’s reelection campaign.
“Looks like the mayor’s got some important people on his side,”
Rebecca murmured. “Including our friend.”
“We pretty much already knew that,” Sloan said, clenching the glass in her hand as Zamora leaned close and said something that made Michael smile, even as she kept her eyes on the current speaker.
“Did you say anything to Michael about our interest in him?”
Rebecca asked.
“No.”
“His attention to her is just coincidental, then.” Rebecca watched Sloan carefully. From the moment she and Michael had arrived, she’d
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looked ready to explode. Anyone who didn’t know her as well as Rebecca did probably would have missed the signs. Her usual feline grace was absent. She moved instead with the wary precision of a trained martial artist on the verge of launching a killing blow. Coiled muscles and singular focus. And her prey was very obviously Kratos Zamora.
She hadn’t taken her eyes off him the entire evening. If he’d noticed, he gave no indication of it, but Rebecca had seen his bodyguards scanning the crowds. Their eyes continually returned to Sloan.
“His muscle has picked up on you,” Rebecca said.
“Fine.”
“You need to go outside. Take a walk around. Get some air.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You might as well be waving a banner with his name on it, saying
‘I’m after you.’”
Sloan slugged down her scotch. “You think they don’t know.”
“Probably they do. But we don’t need to take out an ad.”
“Fuck them.” Sloan finally took her eyes off Michael and focused on Rebecca. “Doesn’t it bother you? That they flaunt their invincibility?
That they spit on us while cozying up to the mayor and the police commissioner? When we know he’s dirty?”
“It doesn’t matter what we know. It matters what we can prove.”
“No,” Sloan said. “It matters what you can prove.”
“Times have changed. Men like him have become politicians.”
“What does that make men like the commissioner, then? Front men for felons?”
“I haven’t had dealings with the commissioner. He didn’t come up the ranks. It’s an elected position.”
Sloan held out a glass to the bartender for a refill. “And money buys votes.”
“You don’t need that drink,” Rebecca said. “But you need to tell me what lit your fuse.”
Sloan narrowed her eyes, challenging Rebecca. Rebecca was the team leader, but she wasn’t technically Sloan’s boss. Sloan still hadn’t decided whether to tell her about the surprise slide show. She trusted Rebecca, but she didn’t trust anyone else and she didn’t have any idea where the images were coming from. All she knew was that Zamora had gotten close to Michael. And someone was playing with her. She needed to know what they wanted, and why they were willing
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to use Michael to send a message. Until she knew, she wasn’t telling anyone who might further endanger Michael, willingly or unwillingly.
Including Rebecca. She cared about the investigation, she cared about justice. But she cared about Michael more.
Rebecca held her gaze, her blue eyes cool and steady. Silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the seconds ticked by.
Sloan took a shuddering breath and carefully placed her untouched drink on the bar behind her. She needed to convince Rebecca nothing was going on.
“Sorry. He’s sitting next to Michael. It’s driving me crazy.”
“She’s safe here.”
“I want to send her out of town.”
“I don’t blame you. Maybe Catherine will go with her.”
Sloan laughed shakily. “Yeah, right.”
“There’s no reason to think she’s in danger. He’s an influential businessman. She’s the head of a multimillion-dollar corporation. They swim in the same waters. It makes sense that he’s friendly.”
“Yeah,” Sloan said dryly. “Friendly.”
With a hand on Sloan’s back, Rebecca steered her away from the bar and the occasional attendee who came for a refill. She didn’t want to spend too much more time talking to her, not with Zamora’s men watching, and Sloan seemed calmer now. “We’ll compare notes tomorrow as to who else he’s friendly with. I’ve got Watts on camera duty.”
Sloan rubbed her eyes. “Look. Sorry. I’m okay. I hate these goddamned things anyhow.”
“Me too. But we can tell Clark and the captain we’ve done our duty.” Rebecca squeezed Sloan’s shoulder. “And we’ve got a good look at his muscle. That might come in handy.”
“Yeah,” Sloan said, planning to search the security tapes at Michael’s office building for those same faces. “It might.”
v
Talia waited until the tall, sharp-eyed blonde moved away from Sloan. That would be the detective Kratos had told her about. Frye. A very capable-looking woman. Very intense. Very focused. Very cool.
Talia preferred her women hotter, although she knew the ones who
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seemed cool on the surface very often boiled over if you knew how to stoke their fires. She wondered what it would take to fire up the detective. She didn’t have to wonder about Sloan. It was written all over her face every time she looked at the woman next to Kratos. The woman Kratos had met for an impromptu business discussion the day before.
Talia picked up a glass of Burgundy from a passing waiter and gravitated toward Sloan. “I hate these things, don’t you?”
Sloan glanced at her and smiled politely. “I don’t think we’re supposed to admit that.”
“I’ll keep it a secret if you will.” Talia sipped her wine. It was better than average for affairs of this type. And Sloan was far more attractive in person than in her photos. Her body appeared to be solid muscle, and her eyes were the most startling shade of indigo-violet. With her dark hair and square jaw she exuded raw sexuality. Talia registered a spike of pleasure and struggled against the urge to touch her, but she let her interest show in her voice. “I’m quite good at keeping secrets.”
“That’s a rare skill.” Sloan watched the stage as Zamora moved to the lectern. She stiffened as his left hand drifted over Michael’s shoulder in passing.
“He’s quite charismatic, isn’t he?” Talia observed, leaning lightly against Sloan’s arm. She wanted to set her off. Women like her could be thrillingly unpredictable when ignited.
“Not my type,” Sloan said through gritted teeth.
“No,” Talia said with a laugh. Her breast brushed Sloan’s arm and her nipple tightened so quickly she almost gasped. “I don’t imagine he is.”
“Friend of yours?” Sloan asked.
“Not precisely.” Talia smiled as the woman onstage looked over at Sloan, then took Talia in with a curious expression. Curiosity. Not jealousy. That was interesting. “But she’s a friend of yours.”
Sloan finally focused on Talia, her expression moving from distant politeness to intense scrutiny. “More than a friend. But you knew that, didn’t you?”
Talia sipped her wine to hide her smile. Oh, this woman was very good. Very very good and very very exciting. She would have to be careful. “I made a calculated deduction. You’ve been watching her all night.”
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“Does that mean you’ve been watching me all night?”
“Oh my. Am I that obvious?”
“No. Not at all.”
Talia looked toward the stage, breaking eye contact. She wasn’t usually concerned with what others could read in her expression, but she feared Sloan might see more than she intended. She was painfully aroused and she did not want Sloan to realize she had an advantage.
“He seems quite taken with her,” Talia said, then continued as if she didn’t hear the sharp breath Sloan sucked in. “But then, that’s understandable. She’s quite beautiful.”
“You can give him a message for me,” Sloan said. “Tell him it would be dangerous for him to even think about her, let alone touch her again.”
“If I knew him that well, I would surely give him your message.”
Talia slid her fingers around Sloan’s forearm. “But I do know him well enough to know that he always gets what he wants.”
“Not this time.”
Her fingers shifted to Sloan’s hip, and down. She slipped her card deep into the left front pocket of Sloan’s tuxedo pants, her fingers gliding inward, stopping just short of the point of flagrant groping. “If he gets to be a nuisance, call me. Maybe I can help.” When she withdrew her hand, she let her fingers drift upward over Sloan’s abdomen. “Of course, you can call me anytime.”
“I didn’t get your name,” Sloan said.
Talia reluctantly stepped back, finished her wine, and set her glass aside. “It’s Talia. You have my number. I’ll look forward to your call.”
v
“Is she all right?” Catherine slipped her arm through Rebecca’s and tilted her head toward Sloan.
“I don’t know.” Rebecca frowned, studying Sloan from across the room. The crowd was breaking up, a few people lingering in small clusters, trying for one last connection, one last vote, one last dollar.
Sloan was headed straight through the throng for Michael. “She’s strung pretty tight. I thought she was just worried about Michael’s health.”
“But now you’re not sure?”
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Rebecca shook her head. “I can’t read her, which means she doesn’t want me to.” She clasped Catherine’s hand. “What do you think?”
“I think everyone is under a great deal of pressure. I saw Sloan at the hospital when Michael was injured. She was very badly shaken.
She’s understandably frightened and trying not to be.” Catherine sighed.
“She’s not all that different than you. She doesn’t know she doesn’t have to be strong all the time.”
“Every cop is like that. And she’s a cop, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”
“I know.” Catherine turned aside for a few seconds to say good night to the deputy mayor, then she placed a hand on Rebecca’s arm.
“Are you coming home with me?”
“I think we’re done here for the night.” Rebecca watched Zamora move toward the exit, followed by his entourage of bodyguards masquerading as business associates. He stopped every few feet to speak with some highly placed official. The deputy mayor. The district attorney. The head of one of the local political parties. “We’ve seen what we came to see.”
“Then I’m going to take advantage of the few hours when you’re not working and I’m actually awake. Let’s go.”
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Does that include taking advantage of me?”
Catherine laughed. “Most definitely, my darling.”
• 191 •
• 192 •
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ChAPTER NINETEEN
Dell was always relieved to find that Irina hadn’t taken off. But then, where would she go?
“Sorry I didn’t think of this sooner,” Dell said, setting a large cardboard box down by the foot of the mattress. She noticed a neat stack of magazines and newspapers nearby. Some in English, some in Russian. She knelt down and started opening the box. “You read English?”
“Yes.”
“I guess that’s a dumb question. You speak English.” Dell shook her head. “Sorry.”
“It is all right.” Irina walked to the refrigerator. “There is beer. Do you want one?”
Dell glanced over her shoulder, surprised when she saw Irina holding up a bottle of the brand she drank. Irina wore navy slacks that hugged her legs like skin and a pink V-neck tee with little sequins along the neck. The shirt ended an inch or so above her waistband. Jewelry of some kind winked in a navel piercing. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She usually didn’t. Her breasts were a lot bigger than Sandy’s. Dell looked away. “Beer would be great. Thanks. Did you have enough to eat?”
“I am fine here.” Irina placed the bottle on the floor next to Dell and curled up on the mattress nearby. She popped her head on her elbow and watched Dell work. “You brought a television?”
“I thought you might be bored.”
“We are not going out tonight?”
“I thought after last night we should lay low for a little bit.” Dell sat back on her heels. “Did anything happen today? Did anyone call?
This guy Olik, he has your cell number, right?”
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“Yes, although before he would not call me. He would call Yuri.
When he wanted the girls for something special.”
Dell tried not to let her disgust show. “When he wanted them for what? You took care of scheduling them at the club—to dance, right?”
Irina reached for Dell’s beer and took a swallow, then put it back on the floor. “A van would come and bring the girls to Ziggie’s and home again after. They were always guarded. That was usual. But sometimes he would want them for parties. Or to make a movie.”
“What did you tell them? How did you get them to do this?”
“I told them the truth,” Irina said. “That if they did not obey they would never have a chance to be free.”
“So why hasn’t he called you?” Dell carried the television across the room, placed it on the kitchen counter, and plugged it in. “Why hasn’t he come after you?”
“With men like this, it is all about games in the mind,” Irina said.
“He will not want me to think I am important. He will want me back, but he will make sure I understand it is because I belong to him, like his car or his dogs. Maybe he thinks I am going hungry, maybe he thinks I will be frightened alone. Maybe he wonders about my new boyfriend.”
“You think he knows about us?” Dell leaned against the counter and crossed her ankles, her arms braced on either side.
Irina smiled. “He does after last night. I have fucked boys for the job, but I have never had a boyfriend before. He will be suspicious.”
“The bartender has seen us together before. He knows I was trying to get with you.”
“Yes.” Irina seemed to focus on Dell’s crotch. “They know I was playing with Mitch.”
“That’s good, then,” Dell said, acutely aware of not packing. She felt naked even with her clothes on.
“Very good.” Irina’s gaze drifted back up to Dell’s face. “When will we go out again?”
“Tomorrow or the next night. Unless something happens before then.” Dell thought it was time to bring up the other items they had to deal with. “We want you to talk to someone—a doctor—about these men, about how you lived. What they did. Where you went with them.”
Irina’s expression went blank. “A prison doctor?”
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“No. Just a doctor to talk to. A therapist.”
“No drugs.”
“No,” Dell said quickly. “No. Only talking. About the girls. About you. About things that have happened. It might help us figure out where to look for them, and for the other girls. And your sister.”
“Where is this doctor? I won’t go to the police.”
“I’ll take you to see her. At her office, okay?”
“Her?”
Dell nodded. “It’s okay. You can trust her. I promise.”
Irina studied her for a long time. “You will be there?”
“If you want.”
“When?”
“Monday.”
“Will I see you before then?”
“Sure,” Dell said. “I’ll come by tomorrow sometime.”
“Then I will talk to your doctor.”
v
“Hello?” Sandy took a cell phone call as she climbed out of a cab at the corner of Vine and Delaware Avenue. She handed the driver ten dollars and motioned with her fingers for him to give her back three.
“Lily said you were looking for some extra action,” a female voice said.
“Darla?” Sandy thought she recognized the soft Southern accent of a black girl about her age. She didn’t know her very well, only that she had a story like all their stories. A home she didn’t want to talk about, a family that didn’t miss her, and the new family she’d made with other girls like her, living in squats or four to a room in crowded walk-up apartments. But they were making it. And they were proud of that.
“Sandy? Yeah, it’s me. I wasn’t sure I had the right number at first.”
“Where are you, honey? The Blue D?” Sandy skirted through traffic and crossed to the far side of Delaware and hurried north.
“Nuh-uh. The Iron Fist.”
“Alone?” The Fist was a biker bar, and the clientele was into heavy-duty action. Sandy tried to stay away from there, even when
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she’d been working regular. She disliked sweating men mauling her and demanding she do things they’d be embarrassed to ask their regular girlfriends for. Somehow, giving blow jobs to some anxious accountant whose wife was too uptight to put her mouth on his cock was a lot different than having a drunken pig piss on her.
“A trick dropped me off in the parking lot,” Darla said. “I just ran in to use the phone, and I bumped into one of the guys as they were leaving. They said there’s a party tonight and they’d pick me up on the corner of Spring Garden and Second in ten minutes. Wanna come?”
“Which guys are these again?” Sandy asked, crossing back over Delaware. She was only a few blocks from Spring Garden. She wondered if she could reach Dell, and if Dell would even have time to get here before the guys showed up.
“I don’t know their names,” Darla said. “Foreign guys. Russians, I guess. They’ve got money. They promised me five large just to hang around this party.”
“Hang around?”
Darla laughed. “Well. You know. I figure that means put out a little bit.”
“Who else you got lined up?”
“No one yet. You’re the only one I could reach.”
Sandy couldn’t let Darla go alone. She could be walking into something she couldn’t handle. Even if Sandy didn’t want to get information for Frye, she couldn’t let any girl, even one she didn’t know that well, do something like this alone. Shit, Dell was going to be pissed. “I’m five minutes away. Don’t go without me.”
“Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll tell them someone extra special is on the way.”
v
Dell tucked her phone between her ear and shoulder while she looked under the sink for a place to stash her empty. “You sound short of breath or something. Where are you?” She got a sudden cramp in her stomach followed by a very bad feeling. “San?”
Across the room, Irina sat up, watching her intently.
“I’m on Spring Garden. I’m meeting up with a girl who’s going to a party with some Russian guys.”
• 196 •
Justice for All
“No!” Dell exploded. “Do not go. You hear me? Do not go. ”
“It’s just a party, baby. I won’t do anything, I promise.”
“I’m not talking about that. It’s not about that. God damn it, Sandy.
It’s not safe.”
“I’ve been to a hundred of these things, baby. I know how to handle myself with party boys.”
“These are not just good-time guys. These are—”
“I can’t let her go alone.”
“Yes, you can! Yes, you fucking can! She’s not your responsibility.”
Dell turned in a fast hard circle. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know if she should run out the door and jump on her bike or if she should call Frye. What she wanted to do was crawl through the phone and shake Sandy until her teeth rattled.
“I’ll call you when I get there, okay? I’ll go to the bathroom or something and call you. I’ll be okay.”
“Sandy, please don’t do this. San—”
“I’ll call you, baby.”
Dell was left staring at the silent phone. The helpless feeling was so overwhelming she almost threw it across the room. For a second, she didn’t know what to do. “Jesus. Jesus Jesus Jesus.”
“Tell me what she said.”
Dell focused on Irina and her training kicked in. She held up a hand and punched in Frye’s number on her speed dial. Then she held her breath and counted. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four ri—
“Frye.” The lieutenant sounded hoarse and a little breathless, as if she were out running. Maybe she was.
“It’s Mitchell. Sandy’s gone off to a party with some Russians.”
“When?”
“Now. She just called me from Spring Garden.”
“Where on Spring Garden?”
Dell closed her eyes, wondering what the fuck kind of cop she was anyhow. “I don’t know. Jesus, I—”
“Tell me exactly what she said.”
Frye’s voice was calm and steady and Dell felt herself settle. She relayed the conversation, what little there had been of it.
“Where are you now?”
“In Queen Village. At Mitch’s apartment with Irina.” Dell checked her watch. Half past midnight. “Should I call her back?”
• 197 •
RADclY fFe
“No. She might already be with them. I’ll raise Watts and we’ll pick you up. If she calls in the meantime, find out where she is and call me back.”
“Okay.” Dell took a full breath, the first one in what felt like a long time, and her brain seemed to click into gear. “Maybe Irina knows something that can help us.”
“Good idea. Stay put. I’ll be right there.”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” Dell disconnected and shoved the phone back into her jacket pocket. “Do you know where they take the girls to party?”
“There are a few places. Hotels, usually.”
“Names. Can you tell me names?” Dell searched through her jacket and came up with a takeout receipt. “Pencil? Pen?”
Irina found her bag, fumbled in it for a few seconds, and handed Dell a ballpoint pen. “I am not sure of all the names. I had no reason to look at them. This is your girlfriend?”
Dell clenched her jaw and nodded. “Just tell me anything you can remember.”
“They are not going to hurt her, Mitch. They don’t hurt the girls.
They need them. As long as they think she is just there for them to use, she will be fine.”
“Fine.” The word felt like ashes on Dell’s tongue. As long as Sandy let them use her, she would be fine. But Dell knew Sandy, and even when she was still hooking to survive, Sandy never let anyone use her. Christ, she had to find her. “Whatever you can remember.”
v
“I’m sorry about this,” Rebecca said, pulling on a pair of jeans.
“It’s all right. Is Sandy in trouble?” Catherine got out of bed and found a pair of silk pajamas. She handed Rebecca a black pullover that Rebecca shrugged on without even looking at it.
“Hopefully not. She could be with some college guys who are just looking for a few girls to liven up their weekend in town. I don’t have much information.” Rebecca opened the bedside drawer and pulled out her weapon and shoulder harness. “God damn it. What the hell was she thinking?”
“I imagine she’s thinking that she’s doing her job.”
• 198 •
Justice for All
Rebecca stopped moving. “Her job?”
“She is your CI still, isn’t she? You pay her to find out things. To talk to people who won’t talk to anyone else. To go places no one else can go.”
“I don’t pay her to put herself in danger.” Rebecca realized as soon as she spoke that it was bullshit. Every time she asked Sandy to pump her sources for information, she was asking her to take a risk. If someone got suspicious and made her as an informant, Sandy wouldn’t live long. “Ah, hell. You think I’m wrong, don’t you, for using her.”
Catherine sighed. “Rebecca, I wish many things in this world were different. I wish Sandy had never had to sell her body to survive. I wish there weren’t men who use the misfortune of girls like her for their own pleasure. I wish you didn’t have to put the people you care about in danger to stop evil. We live with what we must, and you do what you must. You are not using her. Sandy is far too strong for that. Remember, she’s very resourceful. And very, very bright.”
Rebecca sat down on the bed next to Catherine and took her hand.
“You help me see things in ways I never have before. You don’t excuse me, and that’s okay. But you understand me, and that…that means everything to me.”
Catherine took Rebecca’s face in her hands and kissed her. “I love you. If you didn’t see the world the way you do, you wouldn’t be so good at your job. And you need to be good at your job to keep yourself and the others safe. And to do what’s right.” She brushed her fingers through Rebecca’s hair. “Go now. Be careful.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Rebecca kissed her swiftly and disappeared into the night, again.
v
Sandy made it to the corner of Spring Garden and Vine just as a Lincoln Navigator with blacked-out windows veered out of traffic and shot to the curb where Darla leaned against a signpost. Like Sandy, she wore a miniskirt that hit just below the crease of her ass, although her skirt was shiny red vinyl and Sandy’s was a black stretchy material.
They both wore cheap, skimpy jackets with oversized zippers and not much else underneath.
Darla waved to Sandy, relief showing on her face in the light of
• 199 •
RADclY fFe
the street lamp just above them. The back door of the Navigator swung open and a man stepped out. He wore dark slacks, a black leather jacket, and sunglasses, which was weird, because it was the middle of the night. He didn’t look like a college boy. He looked exactly like what Sandy figured he was. A thug, probably a pimp. Not the ordinary kind of pimp who provided girls shelter and protection, ha ha, in exchange for the money they earned on their knees and their backs. No, this guy looked like he worked for some man who didn’t want to get his hands dirty, so he sent his men out to get what he wanted. And apparently, he wanted pussy.
“Hi,” Sandy said, swinging her ass as she hurried toward Darla.
She hooked her arm through Darla’s and kissed her cheek. Then she tossed her head and smiled at the man who stood watching them. “Are these our dates, honey?”
“I guess,” Darla said, looking a little uncertain.
Sandy figured this wasn’t the guy Darla had talked to in the parking lot at the Fist. Guys like the ones in the Navigator didn’t troll the streets for what they wanted. They had someone else do it. She tried to get a look at the rear of the car as she and Darla walked over, but she couldn’t see the license plate.
“Who’s your friend,” the man said to Darla in crisp English. He had an accent, but his speech was polished.
“This is—”
“Samantha,” Sandy said quickly, cocking her hips to give him a good look at her legs as the skirt pulled up almost to her crotch. “But everyone calls me Sam. Darla says we’re going to a party. I can’t wait.
I love parties.”
He looked them over for a long minute, then stepped aside and gestured to the rear of the SUV. Sandy looked down the street, but she didn’t see Dell’s motorcycle or anything resembling a cop car. Used to be Frye showed up in her Corvette, but lately she’d been in a standard issue. There was no sign of an unmarked. Which meant no one was going to know where they went. She took Darla’s hand. “Well, come on, honey. Let’s party!”
Sandy slid into the backseat where another man waited on the far side and Darla crowded next to her, as if seeking shelter. Then the door closed and the Navigator pulled out and headed north. Sandy tried to
• 200 •
Justice for All
get a look out the window around the big guy sitting next to her, but all she could see was the sign pointing to the on-ramp to 95 North.
They could be anywhere from Trenton to New York City in an hour.
v
Michael reached out in the dark and switched on the bedside light when she felt Sloan get out of bed. Sitting up, she let the sheet fall to her waist. Sloan stood just inside the bedroom door, pulling on a T-shirt over her boxers. “Can’t sleep?”
“Hey,” Sloan whispered. “Sorry. I thought you were asleep.”
“Drifting. I didn’t drink because I was afraid it might give me a headache, so I didn’t have anything to dull the pain of the evening.”
Sloan laughed. “You too, huh?”
“It did seem endless. I’d forgotten how much I dislike these functions, even if they are for a good cause.” Michael shrugged. “I’m not altogether certain about this particular cause.”
Sloan sat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t like the mayor?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know him, but I’m not entirely certain that he’s really the one making the decisions.” She frowned. “There was a very interesting assortment of people there tonight.”
“Some pretty high-powered ones,” Sloan said carefully, not wanting to alarm her unnecessarily. Even though Michael said she was feeling better, she’d only begun to put in regular workdays and she still seemed pale and fragile. The last thing she needed was to worry about things that might not even involve her. Not when Sloan had a feeling she was the one who really interested Zamora. If he didn’t want her attention, why send those photos to her computer? They had to be a warning. And if they were, then it was Sloan they wanted, not Michael. “Your neighbor tonight—Zamora. I understand he’s pretty influential.”
“Mmm,” Michael said absently. “He owns a great deal of real estate along both sides of the river, as well as major shares in several investment companies.” She reached for the cup of tea she’d left on her bedside table, and sipped it. “It’s funny you should mention him. He contacted me yesterday about a business proposal.”
• 201 •
RADclY fFe
“For Innova?” Sloan asked. Michael’s design company had an international reputation, and Michael was often approached with investment opportunities. She didn’t believe for a second that was Zamora’s true intention, but Michael had no reason to suspect him of anything out of the ordinary, so Sloan forced herself to sound casual.
“What did you tell him?”
Michael leaned back against the pillows and stroked Sloan’s forearm. “Oh, I told him I’d keep him in mind.” She smiled. “But that right now, I wasn’t looking for partners.”
“He seemed pretty friendly at dinner tonight.”
“With men like that, charm comes naturally. He reminds me of Nicholas.”
Sloan wanted to say that Michael’s ex-husband Nicholas, a low-life cheating embezzler, was a choirboy compared to Kratos Zamora.
“Impressed with himself, huh?”
Michael smiled. “He’s certainly self-assured.” She threaded her fingers through Sloan’s and gave her hand a little shake. “I noticed you getting some attention yourself.”
Sloan frowned. “I don’t—”
“The redhead in the very revealing dress.”
“Oh. Her.” Sloan thought about the business card with a telephone number scrawled on the back she’d slid from the front pocket of her pants and stowed in the glove compartment of her car when Michael wasn’t looking. She thought about the fingers grazing the inside of her thigh, drifting over her stomach. “She was just making idle chat.”
“I’ve never seen her before. Who is she?”
“I don’t know. Probably another Society Hill heiress with more money than she knows what to do with. Isn’t that one of the primary requirements for an invitation to fund-raisers like this?”
“Well, the money part certainly is.” Michael sighed. “Will you try to come back to bed tonight?”
Sloan leaned over and kissed her. “I just want to check a few things. I won’t be long.”
Michael cupped the back of Sloan’s neck and held her close for another long kiss. “Wake me when you come to bed.”
v
• 202 •
Justice for All
“That’s our second pass through here,” Rebecca said. “I don’t see her.”
Dell leaned forward from the back seat of the unmarked, craning her neck to see around Watts. This section of Spring Garden was crowded with bars, and foot traffic was heavy. They were almost to Delaware Avenue, and they still hadn’t seen Sandy.
“Maybe she walked up a few blocks. Let’s go around again,” Dell urged.
“Hey, kid, you’re breathing down my neck,” Watts said. “Take it easy. We’ll find her.”
“How?” Dell snapped. “She’s gone already. She could be anywhere.”
Rebecca pulled into the darkened parking lot of a restaurant that had gone out of business and turned off the engine. “We wait for her to call us.”
“I’m going to check the clubs,” Dell said, pushing open the back door. “Someone may have talked to these guys tonight. They might know where the party is.”
“Yo,” Watts yelled, reaching for his door.
“I’ll handle it,” Rebecca said quietly. She slid out of the car and closed her door. “Mitchell. Wait.”
Dell took another few steps, then stopped just short of the street.
Rebecca walked unhurriedly over to her. “Step back from the light.”
Together, they moved into the shadows of the boarded-up building.
“Why is it a bad idea for you to start asking around about Sandy in the clubs?”
Dell balled up her fists, her arms rigid at her sides, and looked past Rebecca at the cars streaming by on the street. She didn’t want to answer the question. She didn’t want to think about why she couldn’t do what she needed to do to find Sandy. To look after her. She didn’t want to have to choose anything over the woman she loved, ever again.
“I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?”
“I can’t be a cop if it means I have to put everything else in front of her.” She stared at Rebecca, her eyes hot with tears she refused to shed. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.”
“What do you think is going to change if you’re not a cop
• 203 •
RADclY fFe
anymore?” Rebecca leaned against the building as if they had all the time in the world to talk.
“I could…”
“What? Spend your time following her around? Checking out her friends? Making sure she doesn’t go anywhere she could get hurt?”
Rebecca laughed. “Sandy would hand you your ass in under a week.”
“I could look for her right now. I wouldn’t have to worry about blowing my cover. That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it? I’m supposed to be with Irina now. So I can’t go running around trying to find out if Sandy talked to some Russians tonight.”
“It wouldn’t be a very good idea, no. And chances are slim to none you’d find out anything anyhow.”
“But what if it did make a difference,” Dell insisted. “What if I found one of her friends who knew these guys, too, and they could tell me where the party was.”
“What would you do? Crash it? All that would do is probably get both of you beaten up.” Rebecca straightened. “You’ve had a lot thrown at you in a short time. You’re undercover, and that’s always a tough assignment. Sandy is right in the thick of things, and I know it’s hard. Hard and…scary.”
“I let the Army take everything from me,” Dell said hoarsely.
“Everything I thought I was, everything I thought I believed in. The woman I thought loved me. I couldn’t do a damn thing to change it.”
“You’re not alone now. You’ve got help. That’s why we’re here.”
Rebecca gestured toward the car. “Now we’ve got a lot of work to do and it’s gonna be a long night. I suggest you sit your ass down and wait for her to call. She’ll call.”
“I’m sorry I’m not…” Dell pushed her hand through her hair.
“Fuck, I’m sorry if I let you down.”
Rebecca clasped the back of Dell’s neck and rubbed the tight muscles for a few seconds. “You haven’t let anybody down. And you won’t. Not me. Not Sandy. Come on, let’s go.”
Rebecca dropped her hand and walked away, and after a second’s hesitation, Dell followed. As she walked across the cold dark parking lot, she felt the warmth in the back of her neck where Rebecca had touched her. She didn’t understand it, but she wished for that touch to return.
• 204 •
Justice for All
ChAPTER TwENTy
Well, Sandy thought, she was right about one thing. They were in Trenton. She caught a quick glimpse of a sign as they pulled off I-95. She couldn’t see much else with the silent giant next to her blocking most of the window. He hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t touched her, for which she was thankful. Darla had been silent for the entire forty-minute trip too.
“So where is this place?” Sandy asked brightly. She’d tried getting information from the Russian a couple of times, but every question she asked was greeted with a grunt or nothing at all. “Don’t they have hotels in Philly? We have to come all the way up here for a party?” She leaned forward and turned sideways on the seat so she could peer into the man’s face. “Hey. You’re not sleeping, are you? We’re gonna party tonight, remember?”
“I am not sleeping,” he said roughly.
“So where are we going?”
“We will be there soon.”
Sandy debated pushing him a little bit further, but she didn’t think he was going to talk and she was pretty certain if she pushed him too far, she’d find herself on the side of the road. Maybe walking, maybe not moving at all. She settled back down on the seat.
“Is there anything to drink?”
“There will be drinks at the party. But you should not drink.”
“Why not?”
“Because men do not like drunken girls.”
“These guys. They’re your friends? Germans, like you?”
“I am Russian, not German,” he growled, confirming her guesswork.
• 205 •
RADclY fFe
“Oh, cool.” Sandy felt the car slow and slid her hand into the front pocket of her jacket. Her fingers closed over her cell phone. “Hey, we’re here. Cool.”
A few seconds later, the rear door opened and the first man reached in and grasped Darla’s hand. He guided her out, not roughly, but he kept a grip on her, as if she might suddenly run away. When Sandy climbed out, the other guy was right behind her. She glanced around quickly.
They were in the turnaround at the side entrance to a hotel, and she couldn’t see the main sign from where they were. She could make out letters on the glass door of the entrance opposite where they parked. A hand closed around her left arm, marching her quickly toward the hotel.
She slid the cell phone from her pocket and held it down by her leg, pushing buttons from memory. When they got almost up to the door, she took a picture, hoping she got the name. Then she carefully slid it back into her jacket. She had a lot more pictures to take.
She stepped into the hotel and put on a bright smile as they waited for an elevator. “This is going to be fun.”
Twenty-second floor, room 2208. She repeated the numbers to herself. She and Darla were sandwiched between the two big men in front of a room at the end of the hall. When the door opened, she felt a hand on the small of her back directing her forward. The suite was huge, with two seating areas joined by open double pocket doors. She counted eight men at first glance and three or four girls about her age.
The men all wore shirts and trousers, as if they had just recently come from a business meeting. The girls didn’t wear much of anything at all.
Short skirts, thin cotton tops, high heels or thigh-high boots. A couple looked young. Really young. Fifteen, maybe. She knew, because she’d been fifteen when she’d started. But she hadn’t started off in places like this. The first trick she’d ever turned was in a bus station. She’d blown a guy for the price of a ticket to somewhere, anywhere, except where she was.
The night she’d met Dell she’d been giving a routine hand job in an alley when the john decided to get rough. If Dell hadn’t stepped in, she probably would have been able to handle him, but she’d have worn the bruises on her face and body for a long time. Sandy pushed that memory away. She wasn’t that girl anymore. She wasn’t a girl at all.
Next to her, she sensed Darla getting skittish. She had probably expected a fraternity party, with boys and beer and a couple of blow
• 206 •
Justice for All
jobs in the bathroom. These were not boys. These were men, and the way the men looked at them made it clear they considered the girls on a par with the trays of hors d’oeuvres sitting around the room. She was surprised that most of them were speaking English. For some reason, she’d expected them to be foreign, like the guys who brought them, but they weren’t.
Sandy took Darla’s arm and tugged her toward the wet bar along one side of the room. The surface was covered with ice buckets, open bottles of liquor and champagne, and stacks of glasses. “Let’s get a drink, honey,” she said loudly, “and then we can get acquainted with these handsome men.”
“This place is creeping me out,” Darla whispered. “Who are these guys?”
As they reached the bar, Sandy lowered her voice. No one was really paying all that much attention to them, and she slid her camera from her pocket again. “High rollers. If you hear a name, try to remember it. Mix us a couple of drinks. Make them weak—mostly water and ice.
You want them to think you’re partying, but you need to keep your head on straight, okay?”
“Can’t we just get out of here?” Darla pleaded. “I’ve got enough money for us to get home on the bus.”
“Once you tell these guys you’re in, you’re in for the whole ride.
It’s the safest way to play it.” Sandy leaned on the bar, her phone propped between a couple of glasses. She shielded her cell with her hands, hoping there was enough space between the glasses to get some shots of the guys sitting around the room.
“Should I offer to do them or anything?” Darla dumped ice cubes into a couple of short glasses and dashed a little scotch into each one.
“Just sit down next to one of them with your drink and wait until someone talks to you. They’ll let you know what they want. Try not to go into a room alone with any of them. After they’ve had a few drinks, they’ll probably do it right out here.”
“Don’t leave me, okay?” Darla said, her voice trembling.
“I won’t. I gotta pee right now, but I won’t go anywhere.
Promise.”
v
• 207 •
RADclY fFe
Watts shifted in the front seat and the car rocked slightly. “There’s a Stop and Rob around the corner. I could use some coffee. Anyone else?”
“Not me,” Rebecca said.
“I’m okay.” Dell checked her watch again. 1:30. Jesus. “Don’t take too long, huh?”
“You need me, you know where I am.” Watts heaved himself out of the vehicle and slammed the door.
Dell leaned her head back against the seat and stared at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have left her alone. I went over to check on Irina.
I should’ve stayed home.”
“It’s Saturday night,” Rebecca said. “Sandy is usually out and about for a while.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Dell sighed. “Sorry. Guess I messed up your night. Watts’s too.”
“It’s not a big deal, Mitchell. I wasn’t asleep yet, and Watts was just heading out for a late date when I called him.”
Dell rocked forward. “A date? Watts?”
“Apparently with a certain Port Authority captain.” Rebecca chuckled. “Anyhow, this is the job. And it’s Sandy.”
“Man, I—” Dell’s cell rang and she jerked, fumbling at her belt.
She yanked it off. “Mitchell.”
“Baby, it’s—”
“Sandy,” Dell said, forcing herself to be calm. “Tell me where you are.”
“I don’t know exactly. Somewhere in Trenton.”
Sandy spoke so softly Dell had to close her eyes and concentrate as hard as she could to hear her over the pounding of her own heart.
Some kind of rushing noise in the background. Water running? “Are you in a house somewhere? Did you see any street signs?”
“No, a hotel. Wait a minute. Let me see. I took a picture.”
Dell’s stomach twisted into a chain of knots. “Can you leave?
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