“You know, I grew up in a whorehouse in Pahrump, so this feels like home,” I casually remarked. I didn’t know whether I was trying to get a rise out of him or whether I was just creeped out. Making the casual sex thing consensual didn’t make it any more palatable.
“So you sorta know how this evening will go, then.” Phil seemed nonplussed by the comparison.
“People pay money to come to the party?”
“Uh-huh.” He steered me back toward the foyer of the house.
At least that’s where I thought we were headed—I’d gotten a bit turned around.
“Only the men pay, and they must be accompanied by a woman. Single females get in free.”
“I’m not sure I’d say it was free—”
“This is our gym where we will be holding games tonight,” Phil Stewart announced as he pulled me to a stop in front of a set of large metal doors.
“Games?” I asked, then instantly regretted it.
“Yes. The most popular one is Hands On.”
“Hmm.” I tried to act disinterested.
“It’s really fun, you ought to try it. We put about ten or fifteen people in there, let them mingle for fifteen minutes, then kill the lights.” Phil’s enthusiasm was evident. “They have to identify each other in the dark, by touch alone. Most get—how should I put it—distracted—before then. The one who gets the most identities correct wins.”
This time I was smart enough not to ask the obvious question.
“Room three should suit your purposes.” Phil tapped on the door with a large 3 on it as we passed by. “Just flip the switch by the door, and a red light will show in the hall. Nobody will bother you if that light is lit.”
“You know who we’re looking for?”
“I’ve seen her a couple of times, but I can’t guarantee I’d recognize her. A lot of folks show up at these parties.”
“And we’re not here, right? You haven’t seen me and my friends.”
“Got it.”
I stopped him at the top of the stairs. “Don’t screw this up, Stewart. You won’t like what happens if you do.”
Our eyes locked. I saw anger in his—and arrogance. He’d covered both well.
“The police have made that crystal clear,” he said with a touch of bitterness.
Descending the stairs, I caught sight of Detective Romeo, a bag over his shoulder, standing on the edge of the patio, surveying the debauchery to come and getting twitchy. Excusing myself, I left the sleazy Mr. Stewart and retrieved Romeo before he started flashing his badge, which would panic the natives.
Grabbing his sleeve, I said, “You and I need to get out of sight before the guests start arriving.” I pulled him with me into the house and started up the stairs.
“Do you know what they’re doing down there?” He swept a hand toward the backyard as he reluctantly let me pull him along. “This guy, Stewart, is charging folks to attend a party where they can have as much sex as they can stand.” Distracted, he tripped on one of the stairs, nearly pulling us both down, but that didn’t slow down his mouth. “On top of that, the entertainment for the evening are two sisters, presumably paid, who are to give blow jobs to all comers!”
“I’m not sure that’s the best choice of words,” I said as I grabbed his arm, pulling him up and into room number three—the one directly over the pool with the best view of the whole party. Once in the room, I turned him to face me. “Focus, Romeo! We have more at stake than arresting a few sex addicts.”
His eyes big as dinner plates, he nodded. He looked about twelve years old. Had the police lowered the minimum age requirement for the academy and I missed it?
I shut the door behind us and flipped on the red light. “Do you have the wires?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged off the bag, set it on the floor, then kneeled as he rooted in it, pulling out boxes and wires. “I brought a couple of extras. You never know.”
Romeo explained the whole setup to me as we laid everything out on the bed and set up the base station by the window so I could listen, talk and watch at the same time.
“You keep tabs on Phil Stewart. I don’t want him tipping off Felicia. And, Romeo . . .” I made sure he was looking me in the eyes. “Be cool, okay? You’re going to see some amazing stuff down there.” I didn’t feel the need to tell him he would be useless wandering agog through the party—I think he got my drift, though.
“You got it. I’ll stick to him like stink on—”
“Got it.” I glanced out the window. The caterers and party decorators still bustled around the yard, but no sign of any guests. “I can’t be seen wandering through the party—Felicia Reilly would recognize me and smell a rat—she knows I wouldn’t be caught dead playing with this crowd.”
My phone rang. Grabbing it, I glanced at the caller’s number—Teddie. A shot of warmth chased through me.
“Hey.” Thinking of Teddie had apparently reduced me to single syllables—this was not a good thing.
“You’ve been out of my sight too long. How’s The Big Boss?”
“He needs surgery, but it’s not serious—apparently he has an enlarged heart. They’ve been watching it for years.”
“So no need to worry right now?” I could hear the concern in Teddie’s voice—I knew it wasn’t only for The Big Boss.
“No. He’s stable and in good hands. They’ll operate tomorrow. If things change, they’ll let me know immediately.”
“Good. Where are you? I’m out front—does the theme on the front door carry through inside?”
“You have no idea. This place is a veritable booby trap for the sexually unwary. We’re in room three, top of the stairs.”
“Sounds fascinating. I’ll be right there.”
Secretly I was glad for Romeo’s presence—I didn’t trust myself alone in a bedroom with Teddie right now. Especially not in this sex palace. A few minutes surrounded by the promise of wild, unbridled sex that oozed from every inch of this house would resurrect even a nun’s dormant libido. In this house, with Teddie around, mine threatened to go thermonuclear.
Teddie burst through the door without knocking, a big smile on his face. He carried some clothes on hangers over one shoulder, and a bag on the other. Two strides and he stopped in front of me, grabbed me with one arm around the waist and kissed me long and slow.
God, he was good at that.
Pulling back, he gave me a lopsided grin but didn’t let me go. “I’ve missed you.”
“So I see.” I felt the color rise in my cheeks as I unwrapped his arm from around my waist. With my free arm I directed his attention to the other person in the room. “This is Detective Romeo.”
Teddie extended his hand. “Romeo. I’m Ted. I belong to Ms. O’Toole.”
“Sir,” Romeo said as he shook Teddie’s hand and shot a glance my way.
“Ted is helping us tonight,” I explained, using the words to fill the awkward spaces. Teddie belonged to me? The thought made my heart soar and my mind wander—as if this night didn’t pose enough challenges already. “I see you’ve raided my closet, Mr. Kowalski.”
“I had no idea what one wears to one of these functions, so I brought several options.” Teddie held out the clothes he’d brought for my inspection, showing me each one in turn. “A sundress with a pashmina. Casual slacks and sweater set. Or . . .” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “And this is my favorite. A tennis outfit.”
“Gee, I don’t know. Which one do you feel prettiest in?” I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
Teddie stuck out his tongue at me.
Romeo stared at us as if we’d lost our minds.
“Surprise me,” I said.
As Teddie disappeared into the bathroom, I turned to answer the questions I saw on Romeo’s face. “Since single men can’t get into the party and since I can’t be seen as a guest, Ted is going to be Mr. Dane’s date tonight.”
“Oh.” Romeo’s brows crinkled.
“He’s also known as the Great Teddie Divine
. . . .” I offered as further explanation, hoping I didn’t have to spell it out.
“Oh!” The light dawned in Romeo’s eyes. “I thought that guy was gay.”
“Not hardly.”
The Nextel vibrated at my hip, and Dane’s voice came over the walkie-talkie. “O’Toole, I’m in the foyer, but I don’t see anyone waiting for me.”
From the tone of his voice, I gathered he hadn’t liked Miss Patterson summoning him at my behest with no explanation. “Room three. Top of the stairs.”
In seconds, Dane burst through the door and caught sight of me. He pocketed his phone and kept talking. “Are you my date?”
“No. This is Detective Romeo.” I raised my hand, shutting down Dane’s question. “He’s not your date either. While he fits you with a wire, I’ll explain.”
DANE had calmed considerably when I finished my explanation and we had fitted and tested his wire. “So, my date and I are going to wander, looking for Felicia?”
“Yup.” I nodded.
“So, where is this date of mine?” Dane asked.
Somehow, I hadn’t found the right words to tell him about Teddie.
At that moment, the bathroom door swung open. Teddie had disappeared. In his place stood a stunning, statuesque woman, with long blonde hair, twinkling eyes and a pouty pink mouth. He’d picked the orange sundress and soft peach pashmina to hide his shoulders. “That would be me, big guy.” Teddie’s soft, female tones were dulcet, intoxicating.
Dane’s eyes widened, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “O . . . kaaay,” he said, drawing the word out as he nodded appreciatively.
Teddie gave me a wink, then said in his normal voice, “But don’t get any ideas.”
“Whoa!” Dane glanced between Teddie and me. “Theodore?”
“You can call me Ted.”
“Damn, you look just like a dame!”
“I believe that’s the point.”
“Sorry, you surprised me.” Training his emerald greens on me, Dane shook his head. “And so did you.” His voice had lost that angry edge. “So, Ted’s my keeper tonight?”
Stupid was apparently not one of Dane’s character flaws.
Even though my source at the Control Board had confirmed Dane’s position there, he’d proven himself about as trustworthy as a career politician running for reelection. He’d been tight with Irv Gittings, and anybody who had cast his lot with Ol’ Irv crawled on his belly like a reptile. I should know.
“Let’s get this party started,” I said. “Romeo, fit Teddie with one of those things and we’ll send the cute couple on their way.”
Ten minutes later, all of us satisfied the equipment worked, Teddie turned to me. “How ’bout a kiss for the road?”
“My pleasure.” I complied, then licked my lips. “Nice lip gloss. Is it strawberry?”
“You like it? It’s new. I think it’s called Strawberry Smack,” Teddie said with a smile and the conspiratorial tones of a woman sharing her makeup secrets “I read this book about how not to look older—the author said to wear light-colored lipstick. She also said side-swept bangs were a plus.”
“Okay, now you’re worrying me. Go play, but one word of advice—you might want to stay out of the gym.” I pushed him toward the door where Dane waited. My voice turned serious. “Find Felicia Reilly.”
“Will do. And no gym,” Teddie said.
With a chivalrous bow, Dane motioned Teddie to precede him through the door then said to me, “I still can’t believe you turned me down for a guy who wears a dress.”
Teddie’s head snapped around. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to—I saw it all in his eyes.
After turning off all of the lights, Romeo and I took our position by the window. A few couples roamed the yard. Teddie and Dane joined them. I still couldn’t get over how the Trendmakers looked like the folks you’d see coming out of church on Sunday. Old, young, tall, short, fat, thin—a perfect cross section of middle-class America.
“Did anything about that kiss creep you out, or was it just me?” Romeo asked, then colored when I looked at him. “Of course, it’s none of my business really.”
“Guess you’re not one of your breed who find women-on-women action a turn-on?”
Romeo flushed crimson. “I—”
I held up my hand, stopping him. “Ignore me.” I knew the kid needed baby steps, but I couldn’t help myself. I mean, who wouldn’t swing at a hanging curveball out over the plate like that? “Everyone else sees a beautiful woman when they look at Teddie because that’s what he wants them to see,” I explained. “I just see Teddie.”
A knock at the door made us both jump. “Lucky?”
I recognized Jeep’s voice. I opened the door and was glad to see him standing there with Mr. Fujikara—the last two actors in tonight’s drama.
In the dwindling light leaking through the windows, Romeo fitted them with their mikes.
“If either of you see Felicia Reilly, I better be the first to hear about it,” I informed them, then sent them on their way.
Let the party begin.
ALL traces of light in the west had disappeared by the time the party gained momentum. Easily two hundred or more guests wandered the grounds—who knew there were that many willing to part with five hundred dollars for as much sex as they could handle with people they didn’t know?
A full moon added to the light from the lanterns and luminarias, bathing even the shadows in a soft light that made the recognition of the players easy—my luck was holding. I caught snippets of conversation as Teddie, Dane, Jeep and Mr. Fujikara worked the party. So far Teddie had fended off three propositions. Dane had given his number to four women and promised to meet another in room five at midnight. Mr. Fujikara exchanged pleasantries with other partygoers—many of whom he appeared to know well.
Several couples were all over each other in the hot tub—I tried not to watch. Others clustered in knots around the yard.
Jeep and his wife were in deep conversation with another couple by the bar—I could hear snatches of it—something about joining with another couple they’d met last year. They weren’t planning just drinks and dinner. I turned the volume down on his mike—way too much information.
The Naked Mariachis, sans clothing, their instruments strategically positioned, started into their second set. The Fellatio Sisters were laying low.
And, so far, Ms. Reilly was a no-show.
I was getting antsy, when I caught sight of Teddie leaning on an elbow on the bar—he was alone. “Hey, Teddie, ladies don’t lean on the bar like that.”
He straightened as if he’d been poked in the ass with a sharp object. “Sorry, I don’t normally play a lady, so this is new territory for me. Anything else ladies don’t do?” He lifted a mug of frozen margarita to his lips.
“A number of things, but good thing for you . . .” I said, my voice low and suggestive, “. . . I’m no lady.”
Making a gargled sound, he choked on his drink.
“I had no idea this could be so much fun,” I remarked to Romeo, my hand covering my mike.
He gave me a pained expression.
“Oh, sorry!” Dane said to someone. Then to me: “Unless Miss Reilly is interested in a blow job, we don’t need to keep an eye on the library.”
“Got it.” I stifled a grin. So that’s where the Fellatio Sisters were holding court.
We both snapped to attention at Mr. Fujikara’s hushed whisper. “She’s here!”
Adrenaline shot through me. I raised the volume on Jeep’s mike back to normal. “Okay, everybody, it’s showtime. Where is she?”
“The back bar—the one by the gym,” Mr. Fujikara replied.
“Everybody act normal. Anybody near the gym?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice calm, my mind clear, as my heart raced.
“Damn,” Dane said. “I’m in the gym—somebody just killed the lights.”
Did the guy just not listen or did he intentionally ignore me? Talking to
him was like doing business with appliance repairmen who, to a one, acted as if “competent female” was an oxymoron.
“Whoa! What’re you doing?” Dane exclaimed, before I could give him a short and sweet ass chewing.
“Oh! You’re that handsome cowboy dude. I knew you’d be hung like a horse,” a woman purred. She must’ve been practically in Dane’s lap for me to hear her that clearly.
“Dane, quit fooling around. Find the door—get after Felicia now!” I ordered.
“She’s headed toward the den,” Mr. Fujikara whispered. “I’m following her.”
“Romeo, where’s Phil Stewart?”
“Cabana.”
“Keep him there.” One less thing to worry about.
“Wilco.” The kid was by-the-book. If he started spouting all those police codes, I was screwed.
“I got her. She’s crossing through the den. Looks like she’s headed outside toward the pool,” Dane said, his voice hard, angry.
“Teddie?” I glanced out the window and could still see him waiting by the bar.
“I see her. Tell Dane to follow her, I’ll try to close them off from the opposite direction.”
“Dane—”
“Got it.” So he wasn’t by-the-book—I liked “wilco” better. At least then I knew what he was going to do.
A few seconds—which seemed like an eternity—passed. Then I caught sight of Felicia, dark hair flying, as she stalked around the pool, rigid with anger. She glanced over her shoulder once, but other than that, she didn’t seem nervous or wary—just mad.
“I see her,” Jeep answered in his soft, Midwestern tones. “Looks like she’s heading my way.”
“Act normal. Get her talking. The others need a minute or two to close in.”
He didn’t have time to answer as Felicia Reilly advanced on him.
“Teddie, work your way by the cabana,” I directed. “Let me know when you have them in sight.” I saw him move. “Dane, where are you?”
“Working my way around the other end of the pool, keeping my distance from Ms. Reilly. I don’t want to spook her before Ted’s in place.”
Wanna Get Lucky? Page 29