Bad Guys Get Caught (Book Three) (Janet Maple Series)

by Marie Astor

  “You’re late!” the redhead mock-punched Mila in the shoulder.

  “Five minutes isn’t late. This is Janet, the new girl I told you about.”

  “Nice to meet you, Janet. I’m Amy.” She spoke with just a hint of a brogue. Her red hair was swept up in a ponytail, showcasing her milky white skin and cornflower blue eyes. She was probably no more than five feet five tall, but her delicate, petite frame was exuding boundless energy, like a spark ready to ignite into a fire at any moment.

  “So nice to meet you, Amy. Mila’s told me a lot about you.”

  “Did she tell you about how we met?”

  Janet shook her head.

  “We waitressed at Hogs and Heifers.”

  “Hogs and Heifers? Is that the bar where the girls dance naked on the bar stand? Like in that movie, Coyote Ugly?”

  “Not naked,” Mila cut in. “We had our bras on. We only worked there for a week.”

  “You worked there for a week,” Amy corrected. “I’d already been there for almost a month before you got there. That’s how we met,” she explained to Janet. “You should’ve seen Mila when she first walked through the door. She was so shy, I thought she was going to fall off the bar stand, but then it was like she got unleashed. By the end of the night she was the one with the biggest tips. All the boys went gaga over her!”

  “Stop it, Amy, you’ll scare Janet. How about we order some drinks?” Mila interrupted.

  “Way ahead of you!” Amy pointed at the six tequila shots on the bar stand. “You’ve got some catching up to do.” Amy motioned at the two empty shots in front of her.

  “Bottoms up!” Mila raised the shot to her lips, downing it quickly and then followed up with the second shot.

  Janet gulped. Tequila wasn’t her choice drink, but when in Rome … She lifted the shot to her lips, resisting the urge to gasp as the fiery liquid scorched her throat. She hoped to escape the second round, but no such luck.

  “Come on, Janet!” Mila cheered.

  Janet closed her eyes and downed the drink.

  “By the way, that pig Roman called me to check your references,” said Amy. “I told him that you worked for me for a year and were one of the best waitresses I’ve ever met.”

  “Thank you—” Janet began.

  “She damn well is,” Mila cut in. “Made six hundred in tips tonight! And the best part is that I get half of it. We’re going to party tonight!”

  “You can put your money away for now. Everything in this place is on the house. Another round!” Amy signaled to the bartender. “The owner, Frankie, is a friend of mine. He bartended at Hogs and Heifers and a whole bunch of other places. He opened this place about a year ago, and he’s doing really well.” Amy eyed Mila pointedly. “You remember Frankie, don’t you Mila?”

  “I remember. Good for him.”

  Amy narrowed her eyes. “So are you going to come and work for me in my new place?”

  “Why do you have to bring it up now? I thought we were going to have fun tonight.”

  “I’m opening my own bar,” Amy explained. “I want Mila to help me run the place, but she won’t leave Panther. Must be that hot boyfriend of hers who treats her so well.”

  “I told you I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going to the bathroom.” Mila slid off her chair and went to the back of the room.

  Amy shook her head. “You know, she used to date this really hot guy, David. He was from England originally. Very good looking and rich to boot. Sure, he was older than Mila, almost in his forties, but he treated her like a goddess. They had really big plans, but he ran into some trouble with the law,” Amy whispered conspiratorially. “It was all over the papers; something to do with the stock market. Mila was scared to death that she’d be called in for questioning. She had to flee the apartment David had been renting for her with scarcely more than the clothes on her back. She told me all of this afterwards, or I would’ve been there to help her.”

  Janet nodded understandingly. Her head felt fuzzy from the liquor. She had no idea why Amy was telling her all of this. Maybe she had had one too many tequila shots.

  “So then she ran right into Anton’s arms. He treats her like crap, making her slave away in that restaurant, but she’s been glued to him ever since. I don’t see what she sees in him. I keep telling her to quit both the shitty job and the guy, but she won’t listen, not even when I offered her to work for me in my new place. Sometimes I think that she’s afraid to leave him.”

  “Love is blind—”Janet started to say. “What was her ex’s name again? David what?”

  “Let me see … It was this weird last name, not British at all. Muller—that’s it—his name was David Muller.”

  It took all of Janet’s self-control to keep her jaw from dropping. Mila sure had an interesting taste in men.

  “Except for me, there isn’t a soul here who’d help her. That bitchy cousin of hers didn’t lift a finger when Mila was up the creek. I don’t think Mila even told her. Have you met her?”

  “Who?”

  “Her cousin, Ania.”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’m sure you will soon. Mila tells me Ania stops by the restaurant often. The witch even had the nerve to come there for dinner with her husband and have Mila serve them. You see, Ania’s married to this rich guy who takes care of her every whim. Talk about a real life fairy tale; she used to be a tour guide in Prague, and her future husband was shooting a documentary there and just happened to sign up for one of her tours. If you ask me, she’s nothing major in the looks department, a bit on the heavier side, but she does have nice boobs though. It just goes to show you that it’s not looks, but luck that matters. That’s how Mila came to New York; Ania had invited her to show off her new life on the Upper East Side, thinking Mila would leave after a month and go back to her little life in Prague, but Mila wasn’t leaving New York. I got Mila her first job,” Amy added proudly. “At the time I had only been off the boat for barely a year myself.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Ireland, Cork. She lived in this dumpy apartment for a while, but then she met David and things really started looking up for her. It’s a shame—”

  “What’s a shame?” Mila had re-joined the group, taking them both by surprise.

  “It’s a shame that these tequila shots are waiting for you to drag your little behind out of the bathroom,” replied Amy without missing a beat.

  “Now that’s more like it.” Mila lifted the shot to her lips.

  Janet followed suit. This time the drink went down much easier.

  “Another round!” Amy shouted.

  “Coming right up.” The bartender winked at them.

  “He’s kind of cute,” Mila whispered, eyeing Janet and Amy in turn.

  “I’ve got no time for men in my life,” Amy shot back. “I’ve sworn off one night stands, but you’re welcome to make a pass on him, Janet.”

  “Go for it, girl!” Mila chimed in. “There’s no better cure for a broken heart than a good fling.”

  “Oh, no,” Janet protested. “I’m still licking my wounds.”

  But Mila wasn’t giving up. Once the bartender placed another round of drinks before them, she leaned over the bar stand. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Peter,” he replied. “Are you ladies having a good time? Frankie told me to take good care of you. Hope I’ve been doing a good job.”

  “We’re having a great time,” said Mila. “We’d really appreciate it if you could take care of our friend Janet, here. She’s suffering from a broken heart. Are you single, Peter?”

  Mortified, Janet intervened before Peter could answer, “I’m afraid my friends had too much to drink. I think you should keep that tequila away from them.”

  “Come on, Janet, loosen up a little!” Before either of them could say another word, Amy was up on the bar stand, unbuttoning her blouse and swaying her behind to the beat of the music. Instantly, there were whistles from all the males in the roo
m.

  Peter beckoned for her to get down. “Amy! We just polished the bar. Frankie is going to be pissed if he finds out.”

  “I never get pissed at my friends,” a low baritone joined in. “I’m Frankie, Frank Gardner.” The owner of the voice, broad-shouldered and muscular with dark brown eyes and curly brown hair, offered his hand to Janet.

  “Very nice to meet you, Frank,” Janet replied.

  “The pleasure is all mine. Any friend of Amy’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Frank!” Amy waved from the bar stand, writhing her body to the beat of the music. “Are you girls going to join me up here or what? Or are you chickens?”

  In an instant, Mila was hopping onto the bar stand. “Come on, Janet, don’t be a chicken!”

  Oh, to hell with it! Janet thought. Under a normal set of circumstances she wouldn’t as much as dare contemplate the idea of dancing on a bar stand, but she was undercover and in character, so all bets were off. Frank gave her a hand, and Amy and Mila pulled her up. Janet steadied herself on the polished wooden surface of the bar. She looked down and saw a blur of faces looking at her expectantly.

  “Come on, Janet! Show us what you got!” Mila nudged her.

  The music pulsed through her body, its words beating in her ears, “I don’t care, I love it. I don’t care!” Janet let her body sway to the rhythm of the song. A bout of whistling followed, which she took as a sign of approval.

  “You go, girl!” Amy cheered her on.

  Janet smiled, feeling liberated. Dancing on bar stands wasn’t exactly part of her assignment. She was supposed to pretend to be friends with Mila to get the information out of her, but right now Janet didn’t feel like she needed to pretend. She was fully in character.

  Chapter 7

  Janet woke up from excruciating thirst. She prodded the nightstand for a cup of water, which she usually left there before going to bed, remembering only too late that she had failed to do so last night. To her surprise, the cup was there. Dennis, she thought, both grateful and ashamed. She gulped down the water and checked her watch: it was ten a.m. Slowly, the details of last night assembled in her head: the drinking, the dancing on the bar stand, getting home late, Dennis putting her to bed. She wished she could thank him, but he was already gone.

  Her shift at Panther didn’t start until six. Perhaps she and Dennis could have lunch and she would tell him everything she had learned last night. She couldn’t wait to see his reaction. She dialed Dennis’s number, but his phone went straight to voicemail. She tried his cell phone, but got the same result. After leaving messages on both lines, she showered and got dressed.

  She poured herself a bowl of cereal and dowsed it with milk. Not exactly her favorite breakfast, but she didn’t feel like cooking for herself without Dennis there. She didn’t have much of an appetite after last night anyway. Baxter seemed to feel the same way as he sniffed his bowl, barely touching his food.

  “What’s the matter, Baxter? Eat your food.” But unlike his usual self Baxter merely looked away. Janet wondered if he was mad at her for being away so much. For the past two nights her neighbor, Mrs. Chapman, had been watching Baxter. Dennis had been picking him up in the evenings, keeping him company until Janet got home from her job, and taking him for his morning walks while she recovered from her crazy hours at the Panther. Of course last night wasn’t entirely work, and she couldn’t help feeling guilty about that, wondering what Dennis would think if he knew the details of her outing. Perhaps she should be selective about the level of detail, like the part where she got up on the bar stand and danced, drunk.

  Janet stared at her cereal. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for undercover work after all. She rose from her chair and dumped the remnants of her breakfast into the sink. Her momentary feeling of remorse was replaced by that of vindication. Sure, she hadn’t exactly been a paragon of exemplary behavior last night, but she did get some very important leads. Like the fact that Mila Brabec was David Muller’s ex-girlfriend; what were the odds of that? That was Manhattan dating for you: there was a finite supply of gorgeous women, and men like Muller only dated model lookalikes. David Muller; talk about old ghosts. She couldn’t wait to tell Dennis.

  ***

  Dennis tried to concentrate on his work, but found it impossible to do so. He was too angry to focus: angry at Janet for staying out until crazy hours of the night, coming home smelling of liquor and cigarettes, angry at himself for being powerless to do anything about it. He didn’t want to stand in her way, but did she have to go out cavorting God knows where to solve a case? He was certain that there were other ways to get the job done, and even if there weren’t, he didn’t want his girlfriend’s honor to be compromised in exchange for dirt on Julius Libby. It wasn’t worth it, not to him, but Janet was hell-bent on proving that she could pull her weight. As if Dennis had ever doubted it! Or had he?

  Perhaps, in some unconscious, unintended way, he was to blame after all; in the past, they had always divided their duties between them with Dennis taking on the riskier assignments. He was the one out in the field facing fire (figuratively speaking), but the only reason he was able to do it successfully was because Janet had his back. She was the eyes in the back of his head, giving him the intelligence he needed. Perhaps he should have told her that more frequently, or at least once. He sure hoped that was all there was to it. That it wasn’t her way of telling him something else.

  He remembered her reaction when Laskin had whipped out the engagement ring he had bought for Aileen. Leave it to Laskin to make a mess of things. The longing expression on Janet’s face had been worth a thousand words, and Dennis knew exactly what it was that she longed for. He wanted to give it to her, he really did, but he just wasn’t sure that he would be able to. Maybe it was a classic case of emotional unavailability, but it felt pretty original to him. It was his case after all, and he was the one stuck with it. He’d had to rebuild his life from scratch, and he didn’t want to change it, afraid of upsetting the balance it had taken him all this time to achieve. He had been engaged once, and he had thought it was going to be for keeps, but when the going got tough his fiancée thought differently. He had to rebuild his life from scratch, alone. Until he met Janet, when it came to relationships, a few months was the extent of his commitment. Janet had changed everything. It had taken a major leap of faith on his part to get close to her. They were in a good place, and he didn’t want to change things just yet.

  “What’s eating you this morning?” Ham perched on the edge of Dennis’s desk.

  Dennis looked up from his screen, rubbing his eyes. It wasn’t a good thing when he was so distracted by his thoughts that his boss could sneak up on him. “Work stuff.”

  “Just work?”

  “Just work,” Dennis confirmed. He wasn’t about to confide his love troubles to his boss.

  “How’s it going with Libby?”

  “It’s going. We’ve got a lot of information, but so far nothing suspicious.”

  “You say that as though it’s a bad thing,” Ham smirked. “You don’t like him, do you?”

  “It’s not that—” Dennis began.

  “It’s all right. I don’t like him much either, so don’t pull any punches.”

  “He’s living beyond his means. So far, there’s been a reasonable explanation for everything. Valuable paintings bought at a fraction of their cost at garage sales, lucky investment in a startup company …. Julius Libby is one lucky guy.”

  “Do you really believe that, Dennis?”

  “I’d like to believe it, sir.”

  “If there’s dirt, our client wants it out now, not later.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “I know I can count on you, Dennis; on Janet and you, both.”

  After Ham left the room, Dennis rose from his chair. Janet’s undercover job as a waitress at Panther was yet to produce any intelligence, and he wasn’t going to sit around the office twiddling his thumbs. He was going to pay Libby’s office a visit.

/>   ***

  Councilman Libby’s office was located in a pre-war building in lower Manhattan. Dennis signed in at the visitors desk. “The elevator’s down that way.” The security guard pointed.

  The lobby looked like it had not been renovated since 1918, and the elevator matched the rest of it. Dennis hesitated, eyeing the caged construction and wondering whether he should opt for the stairs instead.

  “Don’t you worry,” the guard assured him, walking after him. He pressed the elevator button. “She runs like clockwork.” Just then the grill opened. “Here we are. She’ll get you up there in a jiffy.”

  Dennis stepped inside, doing his best not to shudder as he felt the elevator floor sink underneath him.

  “Steady as she goes,” the guard called through the closing grill.

  During the rickety ride upstairs Dennis wondered if this was an intentional trick on the part of Libby’s administration to discourage visitors. He was certainly having second thoughts about his decision to visit Libby.

  The elevator came to a thumping stop, and after a few suspenseful moments, the grill slid open. Dennis leaped out, glad to have his feet back on firm surface. The hallway was lined with chipped, crooked tiles that dated to the same period as the elevator and the lobby. In the middle of the floor was a sign: Councilman Libby, Suite 5A.

  Dennis found the door of Suite 5A and rang the doorbell. He was buzzed in instantly.

  Inside he was faced with a glass partition. “Do you have an appointment?” asked the girl behind the glass. Her dark hair was pinned up and she was dressed in a conservative suit, but these measures failed to diminish the intensity of her dark blue eyes, surrounded by long lashes, along with her red, full lips, and model-like figure.

  Bullseye, Dennis thought. He guessed that a man like Libby would have hidden skeletons in his closet, but he didn’t think he’d find one so quickly. He’d seen his share of executive assistants, and they didn’t look anything like the siren Libby had hired to greet his visitors.