Every Breath You Take: Sexy Romantic Suspense (Book 3 The Blonde Barracuda's Sizzling Suspense Series)

by Taylor Lee

  He sighed, then continued. “I’ll call you when we’re done. When you and Brady and Tiff finish with Dan, let’s meet up. Maybe bring Dan along. You and Brady make the call. Depends on how Dan takes the news that we’ve got his boss in the crosshairs. No question, it’s going to hit him hard.”

  Lexie checked herself in the mirror, not surprised that her smile looked as grim as she felt.

  “I agree. Dan’ll be devastated. I know he likes and admires Tom Roberts. Plus, it’s not every day that that we ask a friend to help us set up a sting intended to ice his boss and or the highest level federal official operating in San Francisco. Jesus.”

  “Yeah, baby. We’re asking a lot of Dan. We have to make him believe us. And make sure he understands that we’re leading this operation and that our guys are the foot soldiers. I trust him with our lives, but he and Mark are as far as it goes.”

  Lexie raised an eyebrow. “That may be what’s hardest for him. Knowing how fiercely he wants to bring down the syndicate, he’ll agree. But like all of us, he’s used to running the show. At least he’ll get the credit. He deserves it.”

  “Rephrase that Darlin’. You and Dan will get the credit. Obviously, we will downplay the company and no one will be the wiser that our undercover agents put the final nail in the coffin. But we sure as shit won’t hide your role. This is something you’ve been working on long before I entered the picture.”

  Lexie couldn’t hide her concern. “You’re acting as though we’ve already taken them down, Jake. We have a long way to go.”

  “Yeah, we do. But I’ll tell you, Darlin’, those assholes don’t know whose weeds they’re pissin’ in, but they’re gonna find out real soon.”

  Lexie shook her head and allowed herself a genuine smile. Jake’s corny expressions always made her laugh but also caught her off guard. He was the epitome of sophistication which made his down home trash talk all the more surprising. But Brady and Tiffany were correct. When Jake harkened back to his roots, she knew someone was in trouble or alternatively he was ratcheting up for some serious lovemaking. Mmm. Her heart speeded up at the thought of either one.

  ~~~

  Jake watched the annoying little man carefully cut his whole wheat unbuttered toast into small pieces then delicately chew on one perfect mouthful. After the conversation with Lexie, Jake was more convinced than ever that Tom Roberts was their Mr. E. but still he couldn’t let go of the itch on his neck whenever he was around Craig Spellman. How much of that was due to accumulated personal dislike, he couldn’t determine. But Jake was too good an investigator to let personal feelings cloud his judgment.

  The major problem he had with Spellman was the Commissioner’s ineffectiveness. They needed a strong powerful voice at the agency in these troubled times and Spellman was the antithesis. It wasn’t surprising that Spellman’s personal fortune had helped him rise through the ranks. There was nothing like significant donations to various political campaigns to get oneself noticed when high level public sector promotions were in the offing. What angered Jake more was Spellman’s incompetence. Truly an example of the ‘peter principle’ that happened all too often in the public sector, Spellman had reached the pinnacle he had merely by staying under the radar. Which meant not taking risks or doing anything that might fail. For example a full scale initiative to bring down the hideous operation blighting his sphere of influence. It was the Commissioner’s cowardliness, his fecklessness in the face of outright illegality that most frustrated Jake.

  Fortunately for Spellman, Peter was with Jake. As consummate a politician as Spellman was, Peter’s easy charm disarmed his wary opponent. Within minutes, Peter had the Commissioner recounting amusing facts about his boyhood, growing up the son of one of San Francisco’s elite.

  “I’ve heard tales about your father, Commissioner, that I hope are true. Apparently he was one of a kind—a true original.”

  Spellman laughed. “That’s an interesting way of putting it, Peter. If being a crazy, paranoid son of a bitch makes him an original, that’s my old Pop. My mother and I spent half of my childhood in the bomb shelter he built in the basement of our house. He was convinced the Ruskies were coming and our family was their primary target. He just knew that the Commies would go after the most visible capitalists. Somehow he managed to contain his paranoia at the water’s edge. At least we never had to institutionalize him. And he never let his obsessions stop him from concentrating on the real interests in his life—making money.”

  “He was primarily an investor?”

  “Yes, Pop could sniff out a financial opportunity the way a dog could find a bone in a mountain of shit.”

  Both Peter and Jake laughed at the expression. Jake raised a brow and gave a little shrug. “Careful there, Commissioner. You keep talking like that and I might start to like you.”

  All three men laughed at that.

  Spellman stopped laughing and sighed.

  “Look, Colonel. Do you think I don’t know that you think I am a lily-livered coward, afraid to make waves? That I prefer to keep my damn head down rather than having it blown off?” He shrugged, “I don’t need to make excuses to you, either one of you. And, you’re right. I didn’t fight in the hellholes of the world like you did, Jake. Instead I went to Harvard like all the children of their hallowed alumni do. And then I went to the Kennedy School just to cover my bases and finally to Yale for a law degree. That’s what sons of wealthy men who don’t much want to work do while people like you are out ridding the world of evil.

  “The last thing I wanted to do was follow in my father’s footsteps. Instead I chose a government job with a guaranteed promotional track and all you needed to ‘get along’ was to ‘go along.’ But being head of this department in times like these isn’t a picnic and there’s nothing cushy about the job. Ultimately it’s a political football. We’re getting hammered by the right and the left. It’s bad enough we’ve got the illegals determined to come in and out as they damn well please and the right wingers just as determined to recreate the Great Wall of China around our country to keep the riff raff out. Now we have the goddamn international human traffickers determined to make my District their showplace. Christ, I wonder on a daily basis why I don’t just pack it up and go live on what my old man left me.”

  Peter’s nod was sympathetic. But not his next words.

  “Not to be indelicate, Craig, but my understanding is that your wife, Margaret, also has significant financial wherewithal.”

  Spellman snorted.

  “Go ahead and be indelicate, Councilman. Are you saying that Margaret Spellman nee Patterson, granddaughter of one of the most despicable robber barons that ever raped the West has financial wherewithal? And that perhaps my father considering his ne’er-do-well son, saw the bloom on the rose and arranged a ‘love’ connection between our family fortunes?”

  The surprisingly candid Commissioner dragged a weary hand across his brow.

  “Fortunately Margaret gets off on financial highs as much as her father and my father did. I prefer to spend money, not make it.” He gave a resigned shrug. “Being blunt, Margaret and I have an agreement. She keeps us on the social and financial registers and I don’t embarrass her. A job with a big title and political connections does the trick. It’s how I keep my end of our bargain. The only problem is that now that the issues facing my department are in the limelight, my incompetence is showing. It’s getting embarrassing. And as I said, Margaret does not suffer embarrassment gladly.”

  Spellman turned to Jake. “Which is why, Colonel Gardner, I not only put up with your dismissive and entirely justified poor impression of me, it is also why I welcome your help. I don’t mind telling you that we’re drowning here, Jake. Of course it helps that you already know it.”

  Turning to Peter, the Commissioner put his hands up in a gesture of defeat.

  “I don’t know who the hell you are Councilman, or how you got mixed up in this god awful mess but the fact that Gardner trusts you is good enough for
me. And I’m not saying that just to get on the good side of this arrogant son of a bitch. If he has one.”

  ~~~

  Watching the elevator door close, Peter was quiet for a moment. He threw Jake a quizzical glance.

  “What’s your read, Jake?”

  Jake dragged out a long sigh.

  “Well, Peter, it’s like this. Unless Craig Spellman is the demon spawn of Charles Ponzi, Tom Roberts better have his dick protected by an ironclad cup. At least at this moment, the police commissioner is in serious danger of being ‘dickless’ in the next couple of days.”

  “And if it’s not Tom?”

  “Then we start looking for the whitest, dragon-sized prick we can find. Because, my exalted friend, I’m in a dick-removing mood.”

  Chapter 20

  Tom Roberts sat up straight in his chair. His normally serene expression tightened with concern.

  “I don’t understand, Jake. This is the first I’ve heard that Sammie is staying with you. Does Cynthia know? Damn, I just hung up with her and she didn’t mention anything about Sammie. Did… did something happen at the Center? Was Sammie hurt?”

  Jake squinted at the handsome man trying to decipher the Commissioner’s expression to determine what lay below his apparent concern.

  “No, she wasn’t hurt. Look, I’m sorry to hit you with this, Tom. Lexie called me to indicate that Sammie was going to stay at the Center for a few days. I understand that Cynthia okayed it. Seems Sammie has been unusually aggressive lately. Particularly to her brother, but also to other children. There was another incident this morning and Lexie suggested that some time at the studio where Sammie could focus on her practice would be helpful.”

  Tom put his head in his hands. When he looked up, his eyes were hooded, his brow furrowed.

  “Damn, Jake. I’ve been worried about Sammie for a month now. She’s been unusually moody. She and I have a special relationship. We’ve always been exceptionally close. I’m closer to her even more than I am with Donny. Which is surprising since he is a boy. My only boy. But Sammie and I have connected since she was a little girl.”

  “Do you have any idea what’s behind her behavior? Anything happening in the household that might be… upsetting her?”

  “No, none that jump to mind. Just that she’s been moody with a short fuse. Both Donny and I have been treading carefully around her.”

  Jake nodded. “Lexie and I didn’t have time to discuss any specifics but she did mention that Sammie seemed particularly upset with the Korean children at the Center. When Lexie pushed her on it, she burst out that she hates Koreans—especially Korean men. Cynthia couldn’t think of any Korean men who had bothered Sammie. She did say that you have several Korean friends on the force and some that you do business with. You ever noticed that Sammy is uncomfortable with them?”

  The police commissioner startled. Jake didn’t miss the flash of anger that flickered in Roberts’s eyes. He waved his hand dismissively.

  “That’s ridiculous. Obviously I would know if someone—particularly a man—was bothering Sammie. I don’t know what you or Lexie are thinking but I can assure you, you are barking up the wrong tree if you think that I would ever let anything happen to my daughter.”

  Seconds later Roberts’s expression transformed into its customary smoothness but his tone was brusque. “In fact, the more I think about it, Cynthia is correct. This may be the beginning of our baptism into the joys of teenage girls. To be honest I had hoped we would have more time with the sweet young girl that Sammie has always been. But apparently Mother Nature gets the final say. Not us doting fathers who want our little girls to be their princesses forever.”

  Jake decided to let the issue drop. After the disconcertingly forthright discussion with Spellman, Roberts was too damned smooth. Jake decided to aim for the fence.

  “Tell me, Tom. Who do you think is behind the sale of young Korean girls to the brothels in San Francisco?”

  The Commissioner visibly startled.

  “What the hell do you mean, Jake? We all know it’s that fucking bastard Young-soo. He has a stranglehold on this city and most of the other large metropolises in the country. That’s what makes it so hard to make a dent here. As good as Dan Rourke and our force is—and Lexie and the rest of you are, I’ll be frank. That fucking Korean—no offense, Councilman—is just too big for us to take down.”

  “I don’t disagree that Young-soo is the big dog. I don’t even disagree, that we ultimately may not get him. But I’ll tell you who we can get. Who we will get. And that is the fucking son of a bitch who is running San Francisco for Young-soo.”

  Roberts shook his head. “I don’t want to rain on your parade, Jake. But do you honestly think with officers as good as Dan Rourke and Mark Peterson that we wouldn’t have captured that guy by now? If such a guy existed!”

  When Jake just shrugged, Roberts was firm. “Look, I didn’t want to take issue with you in the meeting with the others. But, I profoundly disagree with your assertion. And I’m not just being protective of my territory. I’m convinced that this operation is being run straight out of Korea. They don’t need a man on the ground. They’ve got more international connections than we can conceive of.”

  Meeting Jake’s penetrating gaze, Roberts threw him a bone. “Obviously you don’t agree, Jake. But if there is such a person, and I repeat, I do not think that there is, we know damn well he resides within the Korean Jopok.”

  The Commissioner glanced at Peter. “Not to be overly race conscious, Councilman, but I would think that if anyone could break into their operation it would be you.”

  A slight smile played over Peter’s lips. “You indicated that you have a few Koreans among your cronies. Any of them able to work their way into the Korean mafia—in that they are Korean and all?”

  Roberts had the decency to blush.

  “Fine. I admit I’m being defensive. But I refuse to believe that anyone besides Young-soo is running this operation. We’ve been on this case 24/7 since you and Alexis had your big show, Councilman. We can’t find a lead anywhere. Christ, man, try getting daily personal telephone calls from the Mayor and the Governor. And, just in case we didn’t hear them screaming, their fucking aides call every hour on the hour to see what we’ve found since they harassed us 45 minutes ago. Hell, do you think we wouldn’t love to put some poor asshole’s head on a platter and deliver it to the press thirty minutes before the start of the evening news? Call up CNN and tell them to send Anderson Cooper, that we’ve got O.J.-level breaking news?”

  Roberts jerked back in his chair, visibly constraining his outburst. Within seconds his smooth professional aura reasserted itself.

  He held up his hands.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t usually lose my temper. And I have no business turning on the two of you. I’m aware that you are working on this issue as hard as my force is. I just think that you are on the wrong track. Frankly, I don’t mind admitting that we’re in over our heads. This is not a case that is going to be solved by a local police force, even one as sound as the SFPD. This requires a full scale federal operation run out of Homeland Security. I’m not shirking my duty; I’m simply being realistic.”

  Jake sized up the police commissioner and made his move.

  “We agree that the international sex trade is a multi-billion dollar enterprise and affects every country in the world. We also agree that if it ever is taken down, it will be by an international force of dedicated operatives. However. That does not mean that we all don’t have a responsibility to do our part. To that point, I profoundly disagree with your assertion that there isn’t a Young-soo middleman who is running San Francisco.”

  “Jesus, Jake, do you think I wouldn’t know that? That I wouldn’t have learned something that significant months ago? AND if there was a kingpin that I wouldn’t be all over him?”

  The Commissioner was visibly riled. “Dammit! What kind of a shop do you think I run? Ever hear of informants, Jake? We have a fleet of t
hem and not one of them has pointed to the presence of a middle man.”

  Jake held the Commissioner’s gaze for a long moment and then went in for the kill.

  “Perhaps you need better informants, Commissioner.”

  Roberts’s smooth expression crumbled. For the second time in their conversation, he lost his usual composure. A red flush crept up his neck and stained both cheeks. His voice was harsh. “Now what the fuck do you mean by that, Jake? And before you answer, let me tell you that I don’t appreciate your insinuations about the ineptitude of my force or of my leadership. You are imposing on our friendship and I damn well do not appreciate it.”

  Jake didn’t need to look at Peter to confirm that he’d hit the bull’s eye. This was their unspoken intent. To knock the polished performer off his customary stage. Now to capitalize on the chink in his armor.

  “Let me tell you what I don’t appreciate, Tom. The other day you insulted Alexis. You blatantly accused her of being responsible for the deaths of three young exploited girls—”

  Roberts broke in. “Dammit, Jake. I apologized for that remark. I was wrong. Goddammit. I was frustrated. Alexis knows that. She accepted my apology, why can’t you?”

  “Because, Tom, you owe Lexie more than an apology. Practically single-handed she did more than you or Craig Spellman, or the Mayor, or the Governor did to expose the corruption regarding this issue. And before you have a heart attack, turning a blind eye, sweeping an issue under the rug, in my view is the ultimate corruption.”

  Jake leaned forward in his chair. “No, Tom. You owe Lexie much more than your apology. You owe her your thanks. Apparently, relentless sleuth that she is, she has better informants than you or your multi-hundred person police force has. It just so happens that Lexie has discovered who is running Young-soo’s San Francisco operation.”

  Roberts jumped to his feet, the blood draining from his face.

  “What? What the fuck are you saying, Jake?”

  “You heard me. Because of her ruthless pursuit of the truth, Lexie learned the name of the ringleader. The guy who is running San Francisco for Young-soo. They call him Hayan-sek Rhyong, which means the White Dragon.”