by Jana Leigh
If Rex took it, for the next year at least, he would be on baby-sitter detail. Shit, well at least he would be able to talk to Andre and make up for lost time. Letting his best friend and brother think he was dead had crushed him. “Do I get to pick my partner?”
“Who do you have in mind?” his boss asked gruffly.
“Drew Peterson, he worked with me when I was undercover the first time, he was my handler. I heard that he took a desk job for a while after being shot a few months ago. I know him and we work well together, at least it would get him back into the field slowly , ” Rex said, and watched his boss closely.
Drew and he had become as close as Andre and he had been. When the assignment was over, they kept in touch and often hung out. They had their own small group of friends that they trusted. There were six of them, and they worked on assignments together. Rex, Drew, Shane, Bear, Drake, and Trent, they had all been through training together and had bonded. They trusted only one another in the field. A couple of times, instead of calling for backup , they called one another. Each of them would drop whatever they were doing to help.
“Fine, Drew, but don’t think I don’t know the rest of the Goonies will be involved. I see more than you think, mister. You and those five are thick as thieves. If the shit hits the fan , you are on your own , ” h is boss said, and tossed the file to Rex.
“I know, and that’s the way I like it,” Rex said, and then walked out of the office. He raised his hand as a signal to his friends that they had a case, and then walked out the door. The rest of them followed at their own pace. They had met last night and knew this was going to be the case that separated them form the FBI.
Today was all about tying up loose ends. They wrapped up their cases and turned them in, so when they each walked out the door, they knew it was possibly for the last time.
Chapter 1
“Dude, did you grab the GPS?” Drew whined from the passenger seat.
“Why the hell would I do that, you were supposed to pack it all up, ” Rex growled at his friend.
Since Rex had come to Drew and told him about the assignment, things had been tense. Rex wasn ‘t sure why, but he was ready to pull over and beat the shit out of his friend until he told him. He suspected it had something to do with Andre ; his friends never trusted the other man. He couldn’t blame them. Andre was the son of the man they had been hunting for years, but Rex knew Andre. He was a victim, just like the rest of the people his father terrorized. He was also his brother, a fact that only his friend knew.
“Well that is just great, now we get to roam the streets of New York looking for some chick we have no picture of and an address we can’t find. Maybe we can stop and ask the dealer on the corner for directions , ” Drew said snidely.
“Fuck you,” Rex said, and pulled the car over. It was the last straw. “Out with it, tell me what the fuck is bothering you.”
Drew sighed, and put his head back on the seat and said, “Nothing, just want to get this over with.”
“Bullshit, seriously, I will kick your ass if you don’t tell me , ” Rex said, and turned toward his friend who shrugged and closed his eyes. Growling , Rex pulled his arm back and punched his friend in the jaw, snapping his head to the window.
“Oh look, hot dog stand,” h is friend said, and started to open the door without saying anything about Rex punching him.
“Really, that is fucked up,” Rex muttered, and followed his friend out onto the sidewalk.
Drew ordered four fully loaded dogs and two sodas, walked to the bench next to the car, and sat down. Rex had little choice but to follow, so he sat and began eating. They finished off their dogs, and sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Dude, I just don’t trust the guy, Andre. He could be setting this whole thing up. You know, to find all of his lost siblings and kill them so he can take over. I mean really, he has Digrossi blood in him , ” Drew said quietly, and looked around.
“Drew, you know me. I don’t trust easily, if I thought he was not on the up and up, I would never have gotten us involved in this shit. Even if you don’t trust him, trust me. I won’t let myself get blinded; if it looks like things are going south, we are out of here. The six of us have enough money stashed to disappear for years without anyone finding us, but he is my brother; I know he ‘s not against us. I didn’t choose my family, but I won’t turn my back on Andre when he needs help. Man, I swear he is on the up and up.”
Drew sat and thought for a few minutes, then sighed and nodded. “Cool.”
Rex took a deep breath and let it out, at least that was over with. “So how are we gonna find this chick ? She obviously gave a fake address.”
“Says she is a dancer, let’s hit the clubs,” Drew said grinning.
Drew and he had shared women before. It was something the group of them did, but he was closest to Drew. He didn ‘t feel anything sexual for his friend, but he liked it when they took a woman together. Something about it made him feel complete. Over the last few years, the group had kind of divided into partners that sought out women together. They had talked about it one night over a bottle of Jim Beam. Since then, it had been kind of an agreement that Drew and Rex, Trent and Bear, and Shane and Drake, each looked for a woman to complete their partnership.
Drew was more outgoing than Rex, who was more serious. So when they went out, Drew took point and Rex waited for him to bring someone they would both be interested in. So far, they had not had much success. Yeah, many women got off on being with two men, but none of them wanted a long-term commitment, and that was what they were working for.
“Think the car will still be here when we get back?” Rex said looking around the shady streets.
“Hang on,” Drew said and stood up. He grabbed one of the kids that was standing on the corner and pulled out a hundred. Then he tore it in half and gave it to the kid, telling him he would get the other half when they returned. The car had to be still there and undamaged. The kid obviously wanted the money because he continued to lean against the passenger side door and cross his arms like he was guarding.
Drew smiled and came back to his friend rubbing his hands together. “If we don’t find this chick, maybe can at least find a little company for the night.”
Rex shook his head and rose. “Let’s go.”
Three hours and five bars later, Rex was getting frustrated. First, because no one in any of the bars seemingly knew who Jasmine Tucker was, let alone where they could find her. The second thing was that not one of the women they came across interested either one of the men. It sucked.
Rex had called his boss several times to find out if anyone had been able to trace the woman. So far, nothing. She had come in, gave a statement and a false address, and then disappeared. Not that he blamed her, Andre’s and his father would send someone to take care of her if he found out she had talked to the cops. She had to be in a self-preservation mode. What sucked is the person who took the report didn ‘t even write down a description of the girl. For all they knew, one of the chicks they had talked to was her. Rex had not gotten that vibe, but he was getting pissed.
“Now what?” Drew said as they left the last bar and stood on the street looking at the lights of all the dance clubs they had not been to, some of them sleazier than the last. They weren ‘t going to find company here unless they paid for it and that was something neither of them wanted to do.
“Let’s try a different strategy,” Rex said walking over to the car and sliding in. He pulled out her folder and began to read closer at what the woman had said.
“She had to leave some clues about where the crime happened. The boss said she brought in the police report that said her father’s death was a murder, but the address is empty. Her mom must have moved them out right after , ” Rex said and began to read.
When he was done with one sheet, he passed it to Drew to read. Both of them were trained to pick up on things, but both had different experiences so things read differently to each of them.
<
br /> “Fuck a duck,” Drew whispered and then smiled. “Gotcha.”
“What?” Rex said leaning over, and looking at the place his friend was pointing to. How had he missed that? Hell, even with their differences it was plain. Jasmine Tucker had studied dance at a special school. She wasn’t a stripper; she was a real professional dancer. They were looking in the wrong place. Not surprising considering who they usually dealt with.
Rex put the car into gear, and called to the office to get directions to the school. They would hopefully have an address for her. Rex wanted to get this girl under protection soon. He had a feeling that something was going on that they didn ‘t know about.
Over the last few years, every time they got close to the older Digrossi, they lost him. This was the closest they had ever come, and it was all because of his son. He knew that Andre was safe; his wife’s bosses had put them up in a very secure building, hiring their own bodyguards to keep them safe. Hell, to talk to him , Rex had to go through like three people who verified his identity.
Rex and his friends thought there was a leak in the bureau. They could pinpoint it for sure, but sometimes Digrossi was one step ahead of them and it seemed impossible. Finally, they got the address and Rex raced to the school.
***
Jazz stood off to the side. She knew even if she got the part that she was going to have to turn it down. Her friend called her a few hours ago and said there were a few men looking for her. That meant that either that scum Digrossi found out she went to the cops, or the cops were looking for her. Either way she was going to disappear. She had given them enough evidence to make a case, it wasn’t her problem anymore. She wanted to stay alive.
Thinking about her life, Jazz grimaced. It wasn’t all bad; before her mother went to work for the sleazebag’s family, they had been great. Then her father was laid off from his job and her mom had to find a job. Her father , of course , had been mad, but there wasn’t much work out there for a factory worker without a college degree. He said that it would give him more time to take care of the house’s repairs that had been neglected.
When her mom first took the job as Digrossi’s assistant, everything had been good. She worked long hours sometimes, but the pay had been better than her father made, and so they were doing really well. Her father balked at the hours sometimes, but her mother would explain that she was getting a bonus and it seemed to smooth things over.
After a year working for the old man, Jazz’s mom came home one night crying. She had been in bed, but she had heard her father yelling. Jazz snuck down the stairs, and sat on the steps listening.
Her mom had discovered some documents that proved the old man was involved in illegal activity. He yelled at her, saying , ‘I told you so , ‘ which only made her mother cry even harder.
Then she heard her mom talk about the passes the old man had been making the last few months. Her father had flown into a rage and demanded she quit her job right then. They would pack up and leave, move back to the Midwest where his family was from. He said he could get a job on his uncle’s farm.
Her mom had argued that if she just quit, they would follow her. They had to do things right. Jazz listened as they planned a way to get the documents and use them as leverage to leave.
One month later, her father had been dead, her mother was beaten beyond recognition, and all of it was done in front of her. She remembered the fat old man’s breathe when he bent down and whispered to her that when she grew up, he would be happy to help her out. He had handed her his card, and whistled as he walked out the door leaving her life in a shambles.
She had grown up taking care of her mother. When the shell of a woman died last year, Jazz had come across the papers that her mother had taken all those years ago. She had been pissed. After all this time, her mother could have put that asshole away. Instead, she had sat in a chair looking out the window, refusing to talk to Jazz about what had happened.
After seeing the article in the paper that the old man had been arrested, Jazz had taken her papers, copied them, and gave them to the FBI. She was not going to testify, but the papers alone would put that bastard away. When she went in, she had been smart, giving a false address and wearing a wig. She didn ‘t want to get involved other than to see the bastard burn in hell.
Her attention was brought back to the present by the producer that called her name again. She had worked with him several times, and she felt confident she would get a part. The bad part about it was she was going to have to decline. Well, she still had to go through with the audition. If word got around that you skipped a call back, you would be black listed. Producers didn ‘t like to waste their time on people who didn’t show up. Her career would have to be put on hold for a while, but she refused to go out on a bad note.
She had trained at a school for dance. Jazz had been at the top of her class. When she graduated, she had landed a role in Wicked and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof . Since then, she had been steadily getting more popular in the field. Soon, she hoped to be a headliner.
Jazz had changed her name legally when she was eighteen. She was Jazz Jamieson. Stepping forward she lost herself in the music. It was the only thing that kept her sane when she was taking care of her mother. It had also been the only income they had coming in for the last few years of her mother’s life.
When she finished, the producer clapped his hands and smiled. She knew they would be offering her a slot, unfortunately for her. Smiling in return, Jazz went and gathered her clothes and grabbed her bag and went out the side door. She was going home to pack and get the hell out town. Thinking ahead, she planned to tell her neighbor to answer the phone and let anyone know who called that she had a family emergency and was called out of town. At least it would give her a few days before the producer would completely write her off. Maybe she could convince the FBI to leave her alone. Once she was out of town, she would call them and explain that she would not be willing to testify.
“Hey,” a deep, heavily accented, Jersey voice called to her and Jazz turned.
She looked at the pair of men that were walking down the alley towards her and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She had a feeling that her time had just ran out. Shit, she thought and took a deep breath and then smiled big at the men.
“Yes?” Jazz said.
“We are looking for someone, you kinda look like her,” t he larger , dumb looking man said.
Like she was going to answer that question. “Uh, who is it you’re looking for?”
“Jasmine Tucker,” t he idiot said and Jazz tried hard not to change her expression.
Reaching up, twirling her long red hair around her finger, she smiled. She knew that any picture would not look like her when she was young; she had dishwater blonde hair and braces. Now she was a five-foot ten redheaded Amazon, thin and in shape ; she had long lost the baby fat that had plagued her until she was fifteen. Her face was still round and eyes blue, but she wore green contacts and had been trained in makeup. She knew she looked good, and completely different.
Playing the dumb girl, she said. “Jasmine, sure, she’s inside auditioning. I don’t think she’ll get the part though; you know they ‘re looking for someone a little skinnier.”
The men laughed and smiled. Obviously they had been given an old picture of her, she thought. “Will she come out this way?”
“Oh, of course, everyone comes out this way; the steps to the stage lead right out here. In fact , if you want, you could go in and see if you can find her. She was in the next group , ” Jazz said and stepped closer to the big man. “If you can’t find her, I ‘ll be dancing at the Pony tonight, you should come by.”
Jazz thought of the strip club that was popular with Digrossi’s goons. “Sure, sweetheart, I ‘ll stop and get some one’s for you.”
Jazz smiled real big and stepped away, walking down the alley. Well hell, what big spenders they were. Even if she did dance at the Pony, she would have laughed at them if they held out a one-dollar bi
ll to her.
She turned the corner and then grabbed a cab. If they knew she was auditioning, they had been to her place. Knowing this was a possibility , Jazz had rented a storage locker and put the things she would need to disappear in it. A computer, pay-as-you-go phone, clothes, and money, anything else she could buy on the way. Thank goodness her mother had a life insurance policy. Jazz had been used to living on her income. So when her mom died and the check came in the mail, Jazz had cashed it, put the money in an envelope, and put it in the locker. It was like her savings account. Every time she got a little extra money, she would visit the storage locker and put more into it. Now she had a nice little bundle to help her out.
She also had a car that was parked in a garage on the other side of town. It was registered in her father’s name ; she kept up the plates and insurance in his name so she could use it without anyone knowing. Inside the glove box were the originals of the papers she had given to the FBI. She was going to need those now.
Jumping from the cab, she arrived at her storage place. Walking swiftly to her locker, she pulled the key from around her neck and opened the door. Flipping open the door, she entered her storage area. She almost screamed when she saw two extremely handsome men sitting in chairs eating hamburgers and drinking soda, like they didn ‘t have a care in the world.
Jazz turned to get the hell out of there when she felt a hand on the back of her shirt holding her in place. When she looked over her shoulder, the man who held her hadn ‘t even got out his chair , or put his food down for that matter. Instead, he held a hamburger in one hand and her in the other. He looked up at her and grinned before taking a huge bite of his burger.
She let her shoulders slump then slammed the door shut, leaving her in the tiny space with the two men.
“Who are you with?” she said wearily.
“Now, Darlin’, what’s with the sad face? I thought you would be happy to see us, since obviously you are in high demand today, and not by the most polite people. That poor woman who lives next to you had to be taken to the hospital because of those assholes who visited before us. You would think she would be grateful we found her friend when we did. She gave us a key to your apartment and we found your little hidey-hole. Hell, I would think you would be relieved we found you ; in fact, if you want to cry or show appreciation , my shoulder and lips are right here , ” t he taller of the two men said. He had black hair, and looked like he stepped out of an advertisement for GQ, with his baggy, worn jeans and tight, black shirt. He was a wall of muscle and taller than her by at least six inches. She looked at his face and wanted to smile at the twinkling blue eyes and full mouth.