Seduced by the Badge

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  He laughed. “First, I don’t have a girlfriend. Second, there is no idea for anyone to get. You need a friend, and I’m here to be one for you.”

  “I’m a virgin,” Danni suddenly blurted out, her voice a loud whisper. She stammered. “I don’t... We... What would...”

  Surprise wafted over Carlo’s face, the comment clearly unexpected as she purposely avoided his stare.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to sleep with me, Danni. In fact, the exact opposite. I just want to help.”

  Her eyes were wide as she pondered whether or not to believe him. “Thank you,” she finally whispered.

  Carlo looked over his shoulder toward his brother and Ginger, who were both watching them intently. He turned back toward Danni. “I get it. You think you’ll be more comfortable with Ginger because she’s a woman and you think she’s your friend. And that’s fine. But I have to warn you that not everything that goes on in that house may be kosher, so you’ll still need to watch your back. Don’t let anyone pressure you into doing anything you’re not comfortable with. My brother can be...well...just be careful,” he concluded. “And I’m here if you need me.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Sweetheart, of course not,” he said, his warm smile inspiring her own. “I could never be mad at you. I see big things in your future, Danni!”

  Pie and Ginger were suddenly standing beside them. Carlo stood up, turning to look directly at Ginger. “I’m leaving Danni in your hands. Take care of her.”

  Ginger nodded. “She’ll be fine.”

  “She better be,” he said, the comment directed at his brother. He gave Danni one last wink and headed back to his business behind the counter.

  Pie stared at her, his dark gaze so intense that it was almost frightening. Annoyance was painted over his face. Danni smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back, instead turning and exiting the space abruptly.

  “I have something I need to do, but I’ll be back to get you before closing,” Ginger said.

  “I need to go get my things so I can meet you back here. I don’t have a lot. Just one bag that my cousin’s neighbor is holding for me.”

  “That’ll work out fine, then.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay with you? Pie won’t be mad?”

  “Pie is always mad. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thanks, Ginny. I really do appreciate this.”

  Ginger stared at her briefly. “Don’t thank me yet,” she finally said, and then she, too, disappeared out the door.

  * * *

  As Danni threw clothes into a used duffel bag she’d found at Goodwill, Armstrong paced her hotel room floor. His brow was creased, and frustration ran like fine age lines throughout his face.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked for the umpteenth time, pausing with his hands clutching his sides.

  “We’re in. I’m very sure.”

  “And you’re comfortable your cover story won’t blow apart?”

  “If someone decides to dig, it could always blow up on me. But all they’re going to find is that I have no family here in Chicago. No cousin named Juicy.”

  Armstrong took a large breath, holding it deep in his lungs. “We’ll be trailing you, but at any time if you feel like you need to get out of there, you know what to do.”

  Danni nodded. “Thank you. But I’ll be fine.”

  His cell phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. As he moved to answer it, Danni paused to watch him. He had come the minute she had called, listening intently as she laid out her plan to move in with Pie. He wasn’t happy about it, but he’d been clearly impressed by her gumption. His concern for her safety was genuine and slightly overprotective. She hated to admit it, but she liked that he was worried about her, his reservations feeling like they had nothing to do with the case or his authority over her.

  They suddenly locked eyes. He was clearly listening to someone on the other end, but his focus was on her, his stare so intense that her stomach rippled and then her knees buckled so that she had to sit down against the edge of the bed. Perspiration dampened her palms and trickled like the most minute stream between her small breasts. Her breath quickened, and it took a moment before she could catch herself, fighting not to let the emotion show.

  Armstrong was still staring at her when he disconnected his call. The energy in his eyes had shifted drastically. “Josef Havel is dead,” he said, his tone dry as he moved to the window and looked past the mini blinds to the parking lot below. “They found him hanging in his cell a few hours ago.”

  Danni’s own gaze was wide. “His extradition was supposed to happen tomorrow. How could this happen?” she asked, the question more rhetorical than anything else.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to...”

  She interrupted his comment, knowing exactly what he was about to say. “I’m not changing my mind. I’m going through with this. Now more than ever. Havel was our only link to tie Pius to my sister’s abduction and possibly all your open murder cases. I need to figure out how he plays into all of this now more than ever.”

  Rising from her seat, Danni eased her way over to stand beside him at the window. She hated to admit it, but the nearness of him actually took her breath away. Something was simmering between them, something that had been ignited the night he’d pulled her close on the dance floor. It burned hot and sizzled when they were in each other’s presence. When they weren’t, they could pretend it didn’t exist, fighting not to fan the flames that would have burned otherwise. Eventually she was going to have to address the attraction she was feeling toward him, but for the moment she needed to push it down and continue to ignore it.

  Once again he seemed to read her mind. “We need to talk,” he started, seeming to search for the right words to put things into perspective. “There are some things I need to say to you.”

  Danni shook her head vehemently. “We do, but not now,” she responded. “Please. I don’t need any distractions. I really need to stay focused.”

  He inhaled deeply, only nodding his head in agreement.

  Danni changed the topic as she continued to pack. “Have you found out anything else about Carlo?”

  “Only that there isn’t much to find out. Considering the family, he’s almost too good to be true.”

  “Then maybe he is,” Danni said softly.

  Armstrong clearly didn’t miss the edge in her tone. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  Something in his tone moved her to look directly at him before she answered. “He offered me a place to stay.”

  Armstrong’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly as he stared back at her. “In exchange for...?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. He said he just wanted to be a friend.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  “Actually, I did, then Ginger told me not to trust him. But she said it like I shouldn’t trust any man because you’re all dogs.”

  “You like this guy, don’t you?”

  Danni hesitated, sensing there was more to the question than she was wanting to answer. She shrugged. “He’s always been very respectful. He hasn’t given me any reason not to like him.”

  Armstrong paused before responding. “Trust your gut,” he said finally. “If you think he’s one of the good guys, then he probably is.”

  His phone suddenly rang a second time. “I need to answer this,” he said as he pulled the device into his hand. As he answered the call, he stepped away from her to the other side of the room. Danni turned to stare out the window where he had stared, everything playing over again in her head.

  Chapter 10

  Danni thought she’d prepared herself for everything, but she truly was not prepared when she entered the single-family home that sat in the heart of Chicago’s Southport Corridor. From the outside, the nondescript brick building
looked like all the others in the upper-middle-class neighborhood: concrete stoop, small porches and aged architecture. There was a bicycle left unattended on the manicured lawn, and the gated fence around the property was identical to the neighbor’s next door and down the street.

  But the house was far from being an average family home. Pie disappeared up a flight of stairs as soon as the front door was closed behind them. Danni watched him as he took the steps in four swift leaps, and then she took in the rest of her surroundings. There were at least a dozen young women splayed out in the living room, watching television. They looked unamused as a rerun of the old television show Friends played loudly. The two bodyguards sat in the kitchen, pulled up to the breakfast table. Both gave her a nod as she passed through, and Ginger gave her a quick tour of the downstairs.

  The space that should have been a dining room housed at least a dozen computers, and two young men who identified themselves as Pace and Adam were running point on the activity crossing their screens. Wide-eyed, Danni didn’t miss the high-tech security system and dozens of cameras that were capturing everything that went on inside the home and outside the front and back doors. Nor did she miss the multitude of pornographic images being uploaded on the computers, Pace and Adam regularly scanning a multitude of photographs and loading other images from flash drives girls would randomly drop into a basket on the table.

  She shot Ginger a look, her gaze questioning.

  Ginger came to an abrupt halt. “So when you’re here, there are some rules you need to follow. First, don’t piss off Pie. Stay out of his way. Don’t talk to him, don’t try to be his friend, don’t go into his space—and his space is wherever he is at the moment. Stay...out...of...his...way,” she repeated, emphasizing each word. “Second, don’t ask anyone here any questions. Mind your own business and stay out of everyone else’s. Everyone here has their own problems, and they don’t care about yours.”

  Danni nodded. “I’ll stay out of the way. I promise.”

  “And lastly, you can come and go as you please. The doors are rarely locked and if they are, there is always someone up who can let you in. But don’t ever tell anyone about this place or bring anyone here. And if you have any doubts, refer to rule number one. Don’t piss Pie off!”

  Ginger gestured for her to follow as she ascended the stairs. There were four bedrooms on the second floor, each set up like college dorm rooms with bunk beds on three walls. A second flight of steps led to a third level, and when Danni looked up the stairs, Ginger shook her head. “Upstairs is off-limits. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah,” Danni said, her head bobbing like it was unhinged.

  Ginger led her into the back bedroom on the right. A girl who barely looked thirteen lay on a top bunk, never bothering to look up when the two entered the space. She was playing with a collection of dolls and talking to herself. Ginger pointed to a lower bunk. “You can sleep there. And remember what I said. Mind your own business.”

  Danni nodded. “Thanks, Ginger. I really appreciate this.”

  “Don’t make me regret this.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  The woman stole a quick glance at her wristwatch. “I’m working tonight, so I need to get ready. If you’re hungry there’s always food downstairs.”

  “They ordered pizza,” the girl said, turning her frail body around to stare down at the two women. She stared at them with bright blue eyes and blond hair that hung in two ponytails down her back. “Adam ordered pies and sent someone to get them.”

  “Whatever,” Ginger responded as she did an about-face and exited the space.

  Danni smiled at the girl, tossing her hand up in a slight wave. “Hi. My name’s Danni.”

  “They call me Angel, but my real name’s Alissa. How long are you staying?”

  Danni shrugged. “I’m not sure. Have you been here long?”

  “Not too long. But it’s cool here. No one really bothers you unless you have to work, and it’s better than sleeping out on the streets.”

  “You slept out on the streets?”

  “Yeah. Didn’t you?”

  “I was at my cousin’s until she took off with her boyfriend.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No reason for you to apologize. It’s not your fault,” Danni answered. She tossed her duffel bag onto the thin mattress.

  “I just remember what it’s like when people you care about are gone and you don’t have nobody. That’s all.”

  “Don’t you have any family?”

  Angel didn’t answer, her eyes widening slightly. “You shouldn’t ask questions,” she said, her voice dropping slightly. “The last girl that asked a lot of questions disappeared.”

  Danni tossed a glance toward the door as she took a step closer toward Angel. “What happened to her?” she whispered.

  Angel shifted around to peer over the side of the bed. The young girl shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Pius took her away. Everyone says she’s probably dead. Or worse.”

  “There’s something worse than being dead?”

  Angel whispered back. “Yeah,” she said softly.

  Danni took a deep breath. Clearly, her new friend wanted to share, but she knew if she pushed it might not serve either of them well. She gave Angel a big smile, allowing the subject to drop until she could revisit it safely.

  Angel changed the subject, too. “They put your profile up yet?”

  “My profile?”

  “Yeah. All of us get a profile online. It’s how we get work.”

  Just then another young woman came through the door. She narrowed her gaze on the two of them, but she didn’t bother to speak.

  Danni smiled. “Hi. I’m Danni.”

  Her stare narrowed even more as she looked Danni up and down.

  “That’s Marissa,” Angel interjected.

  “Shut up!” Marissa snapped. “How many times do we have to tell you to keep that trap of yours closed? Keep it up and you’re going to piss off Pie.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Angel snapped back. She rolled back to face the wall, waving a Barbie doll from side to side.

  “You opened your mouth, so you said too much!”

  “She didn’t say anything,” Danni said. “It’s all good.”

  Marissa’s mouth lifted in a slight snarl, but she didn’t bother to respond. She shook her head and moved to exit the room. She called out over her shoulder, “There’s food downstairs.”

  Angel squealed with delight as she scrambled off the top bunk, jumping down to the floor. She grabbed Danni’s hand and pulled her along.

  * * *

  Armstrong hadn’t planned on stopping by the coffee shop after leaving the jailhouse to review the report on Josef Havel’s untimely death. He had planned to head home but instead found himself standing alone, staring at the menu. Carlo was sweeping the floors when he entered, acknowledging him with a quick nod of his head.

  “What can I get for you, Detective?” he asked, pausing as he rested his weight against the broom handle, both hands clutching the length of wood.

  “Not quite sure,” Armstrong answered. He took a quick look around, noting the one college student studying in the corner. “What time do you close?”

  Carlo looked toward the clock on the wall. “About fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late. I’ll get out of your way.”

  “It’s not a problem, Detective Black. I’ll probably be here for another hour or so. I’ll be glad to get you something.”

  “Have we met before?” Armstrong asked, noting that the steel-gray sweat suit and Jordan sneakers he wore didn’t identify him as a police officer.

  “Not officially.” Carlo moved toward him, pausing to rest his broom against the counter. “Carlo Mancuso,” he said, extending his hand in greeting.

 
“Armstrong Black.” The handshake was firm.

  “Your reputation precedes you, Detective Black.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  “It is what it is.”

  Armstrong nodded. “Are you related to the Mancuso family from Michigan Avenue?”

  Carlo’s smile was slight. “My maternal grandfather was Benito Mancuso. My mother was his youngest daughter with wife number three.”

  “Benito! What a small world. My father and your grandfather were friends. I remember him well.”

  “I met your father once or twice, I think, but each time he was dining with Alexander Balducci.”

  There was a moment of pause as Armstrong eyed the man intently. “He and Mr. Balducci have history.”

  Carlo nodded ever so slightly. “That they do,” he said. He smiled, the smug gesture causing the baby hairs at the back of Armstrong’s neck to rise.

  “So, how do you know the Balducci family?”

  “My mother was married to Leonard Balducci.”

  Armstrong took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “No need to be. My mother died in an accident when I was four years old. Her family raised me. I really didn’t know my stepfather like that.”

  The awkward shift in the conversation suddenly flooded through the space, vibrating in the silence that wafted between the two men.

  Carlo changed the subject. “I have some chicken salad that’s really good. Let me make you a plate,” he said. “On the house.”

  “That’s kind of you. Thank you.”

  Armstrong moved to sit where Danni often sat, the chair allowing him great views of the room, the door and the sidewalk outside. He watched as Carlo moved behind the counter and began to prep. Across the way the college student was still lost deep in the pages of a chemistry book. The young man suddenly rose with his coffee cup and walked to the counter for a refill. As he passed he gave Armstrong a nod, then quickly returned to his studies.

  Minutes later Carlo returned with two plates in hand. He’d piled heaping servings of chicken salad atop a bed of lettuce. Sliced tomatoes and a wedge of French bread rested along one side of the dish, and strawberries and melon rested on the opposite side. “Do you mind if I join you?”