Positively Criminal

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Positively Criminal Page 2

by Mia Dymond


  “You didn’t mention your relationship with the detective.”

  “There is no relationship.” She swallowed hard. Yet. “He’s just protective.”

  “Why?”

  She raised one eyebrow, quickly losing patience with yet another demanding male. “Any particular reason you ask?”

  “We have to be careful, Bri, at least until this is all over.”

  “I’m always careful, Ryan.” Out of habit, she spun her bracelet again. “Jake won’t be a problem.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. I just came to make sure you got out okay.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, Jake wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

  “Did you see or hear anything before the bust?”

  “No. Business was business, just as usual. No red flags.”

  He gave a small nod as he stepped to the door and glanced out the window. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  She bit her lip to correct his assumption. With Jake on her tail, she was anything other than safe. “When will I see you again?”

  “Thursday evening at the Sunlight Hotel,” he said as he opened the door. “Six o’clock. The reservation’s in my name.”

  She frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Positive.” He chuckled as he stepped out of the doorway. “See you then.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Long night?”

  From behind his Primrose Police Department-issued tin can of a desk, Jake grunted at his partner, clean shaven with his usual cocky smirk in full view. “What the hell are you smiling at?”

  “Sorry, man.” Detective Mace Turner grabbed the chair in front of Jake’s desk, turned it backward, straddled it, and then lowered himself to the seat. “Believe it or not, I’m just happy to be back.”

  “Suspension’s a bitch, huh?”

  “A big one. I hear a bust went down at the Glove.”

  “Someone was busted alright,” Jake mumbled.

  “Obviously I didn’t hear everything.”

  “I found Bri there.”

  His partner went absolutely bug-eyed. “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve spent the whole night attempting to answer that question.”

  “Did you catch her act?”

  His forehead ached with the force of his frown. “No, when I got there everyone wore handcuffs.”

  Mace’s bug eyes didn’t waver. “You let them arrest her?”

  “I arrested her.”

  His partner eased back in his chair and buckled his hands behind his head. “And how did that go?”

  “Incredibly badly. I asked for an explanation and she wouldn’t budge.”

  “Bri – wow. That’s almost hard to believe.”

  “Especially since I asked her to stay away.”

  “If I remember correctly, you demanded.”

  Annoyed by his partner’s jab, he released a hard sigh. “It was for her own good, Turner! Look what happened.” He ran a hand across the top of his head. “I couldn’t exactly tell her the feds were watching the place.”

  Mace nodded. “Yeah, about that. Why didn’t we know ahead of time?”

  “You were suspended for accepting a lap dance in the line of duty,” Jake drawled.

  “Smart ass. Your lap was full of a certain redhead, as I recall.”

  Hell yeah, he remembered every single thing about the redhead with the killer blue eyes who occupied the space between his legs for a full three minutes and twenty seven seconds. Dr. Sabrina Miller, alias Sapphire. The same fiery temptress he’d spent several hours with since that time in heated discussion about the danger of shaking her assets for drunken, horny men. Granted, that amazing experience had left him with a smile engraved on his face and a major hard-on for hours until he’d been forced to take matters into his own hands and end his misery, but that didn’t condone her intent to do that for other men. Besides, the stubborn beast roared again not thirty minutes later and tempted him to flash another hundred dollar bill.

  The woman had undisputable God-given talent.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t quite so angry when he answered. “I wasn’t on duty.”

  Mace grinned. “So, explain the bust you knew nothing about.”

  “Not much to tell. I got a call afterwards and hauled in three girls.”

  “No briefing?”

  “Not last night. You’re just in time, though, it’s scheduled for ten o’clock this morning.”

  Mace checked his watch. “That leaves you approximately thirty two minutes to tell me what else happened last night.”

  “Nothing. I arrested her, we argued, then I took her home.”

  “Holy crap! To Mabel’s?”

  “No, not home literally. I actually drove her to the clinic.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s where she parked her car.”

  “Not much better. I’m sure Dr. Prescott had a few words with you too.”

  “Actually, I got lucky. Liberty and Shane are headed for Barbados.”

  “So, your foul mood is still a mystery.”

  He gave a casual shrug, not sure who he was trying to fool, Mace or himself. “I’m pissed about the bust.”

  “Nuh-huh. It’s something else.”

  “I’m not one of your suspects, Turner, your third degree is useless.”

  “Something happened between you and Bri.”

  “Nope.”

  “There’s my answer. Nothing happened between you two.”

  His chair squeaked as he leaned back and buckled his hands behind his head. “I arrested her for her own good, Turner.”

  “No doubt. However, there is such a thing as protective custody.”

  “I think I proved my point.”

  “You think she’ll stay away?”

  “Not likely.”

  “I’ll have to admit, I’m a little curious why she’s dancing again.”

  “She’s not.”

  “Huh?”

  Jake shook his head from left to right, positive in his answer, while amused at his partner’s confusion; served Turner right for pushing too far about his relationship with Bri.

  “Then why the hell did she lead you to believe she is?”

  “Haven’t figured that out yet.”

  Mace released a heavy breath. “Girl’s got major brain power.”

  Jake silently applauded the other man’s conclusion. Although Bri’s curves teased his libido, her brain sucked him in full force. Smart women were a turn-on he couldn’t even begin to ignore and this certain extremely intelligent woman possessed enough brain power to turn him into a drooling zombie. He simply nodded in agreement.

  “So what do you think?” Mace pressed. “Drugs? Guns?”

  “They told us drugs but you know the FBI as well as I do. They won’t let us in on anything until they’re ready.”

  “We’ve never had trouble there before.”

  “The money funneled through that place prevents that.”

  “Have you ever noticed anything out of place?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve visited the club a total of two times now. The only action I saw was you tie one on enough to get suspended.”

  “Nuh-huh. As I recall, you saw plenty of action.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “By the time Bri finished with you, you were strung so tight we took bets to see if you could even halfway walk out of the place.”

  “I hope you lost.” He lowered his hands to the desk and pushed back his chair to stand. “How long do you suppose the feds were watching before we were informed?”

  His partner shrugged. “Depends on what they found and when they tell us, I guess.”

  “Well, then.” He checked his watch and gestured to the door with his head. “No time like the present.”

  As he and Mace headed the short distance to the department’s main conference room, Jake tossed suspicion through his brain. What busin
ess could Bri possibly have in a gentlemen’s club? Common sense told him she wouldn’t risk her professional reputation by supplementing her income. A community as small as Primrose could be extremely unforgiving – news traveled at the speed of light – and no way could she disguise herself enough to keep her act a secret. Yet, she insisted on spending time there. His right fist clenched in frustration. He needed answers. Now.

  Not more than a full two minutes later, Jake entered the conference room, careful to keep a steady gait while he practiced great restraint to keep from pulling his weapon on the crowd of agents already assembled.

  “Easy, Rawlings,” Mace muttered beside him.

  Jake drew a deep, cleansing breath and took an empty chair. No sense pissing off the people who could quite possibly explain why on God’s green earth Bri had been involved in their bust. He nodded at the agents in a silent acknowledgement, hesitating half a second longer on the man at the head of the table. The Agent in Charge sat relaxed with one knee bent to allow an ankle to rest on his opposite knee, as if he couldn’t care less that they dragged several half-naked women to a holding cell in the middle of the night. The grin that shaped his lips made Jake think he knew just a little more than anyone in the room.

  The question marks assaulting his brain worsened his anger. How long had the other man been at the Glove last night? Had he taken the time to patrol the perimeter before he gave the signal? Just how much investigation had he done at the scene?

  The other man tipped his head in a small nod, forcing Jake out of his silent interrogation. “Detective Rawlings.”

  “Agent Majors.” Jake returned the acknowledgement only out of courtesy, still irritated as hell by the fact the bust had been a surprise. And that Bri was involved.

  He moved his gaze from Majors and focused on the white board beside the table, covered with scribbles he assumed to be facts of the case.

  “Gentlemen.” Agent Majors stood and stepped next to the board. “I’m not happy to report that last night’s bust did not yield much useful evidence.”

  Although relieved, Jake couldn’t let his suspicion slide. “Since you neglected to notify Detective Turner and me, could you explain what it was exactly you did find?”

  “Nothing useful.”

  “You told us you were looking for evidence of a drug ring. I don’t buy it.”

  “Although we did search the place, there were no drugs. In fact, we don’t know much more than we did to begin with.”

  “So I’m assuming you now need our assistance.”

  “We’d like you to place a local informant.”

  “You have someone in mind?”

  “No, I’ll leave that decision to you.”

  “How many girls were questioned last night?”

  “All but three.”

  “Why not every single one?”

  “Because they’re missing.”

  Jake frowned. “Missing, like absent for a shift?”

  “No, vanished. No one has seen them for the last month.”

  “Sonuvabitch,” he muttered under his breath.

  “That’s where we come in,” Majors continued. “We have good reason to believe the Velvet Glove is a hub for human trafficking.”

  Jake sat morbidly still while his blood reached a full, rolling boil. “Did you bother to mention these disappearances to any of the other girls?”

  “Just in questioning. Most of them share the same sentiment that girls in this particular line of work tend to be flighty. Normally they work long enough to earn quick cash and then move on.”

  Majors’ shortened job description hit a nerve. “Have you ever really gotten to know any of those girls, Agent?”

  “Hell,” Mace mumbled.

  “Only as suspects. Do you have further information you’d like to share?”

  “I agree with you that some are flighty but most work as dancers for legitimate money. An experienced dancer earns incredible cash at the Glove.”

  “Cash spent on ...?”

  “Education, children – even ailing parents. The Velvet Glove is a classy place with elite clientele. The income potential is more than you and I see in a year.”

  “Obviously you have intimate knowledge.”

  “No.” Jake winced to cover his emotional blunder. “That would be Detective Turner.”

  Majors chuckled, apparently not disturbed by his rant.

  Mace was quick to redirect the conversation back to the case. “What makes you believe these women are missing?”

  “We only have evidence one is actually missing.” The agent handed Jake a photo. “Melissa Winston. She’s the niece of Sheriff Joe King.”

  Jake scanned the woman’s features. Although strikingly beautiful with long blonde hair and baby blue eyes, she presented a picture of innocence rather than one of experience. Yet, the longer he spent staring into her photographed eyes, he couldn’t stop the sinking feeling that in person, those eyes might quite possibly broadcast a lot more information than he needed.

  He moved his gaze back to Majors. “How long?”

  “Forty-two days.” Majors tapped the white board. “We believe the trafficking operates from within. The establishment is owned by Stephan Lombardy who owns a string of gentlemen’s clubs across the country.”

  “Are there girls missing from those clubs?”

  “We’re looking into it. Lombardy’s establishments are clean – he keeps a tight hold on his staff. Security is impeccable and difficult to infiltrate. That’s why we need someone on the inside. Someone who knows the business and won’t draw unwanted attention.”

  “I’m assuming you mean a female.”

  The agent grinned. “Yes.”

  “Don’t you have an undercover field agent?”

  “Won’t work. This woman needs to be local – someone who appears harmless, the girl next door.”

  Suspicion suddenly stabbed his gut – right through the middle, then twisted from side to side. Had Majors seen Bri dance? No. No. Hell no.

  “Can’t think of anyone who fits that mold. I’ll have to do some investigation.”

  “I’d like to put her in place as soon as possible.”

  Mace cleared his throat. “We’ll get on it as soon as we’re done here.”

  “We’re finished.” Majors released a hard breath and stuck out a hand. “Our investigation is pretty much stalled for now. I could really use your help.”

  Jake somehow managed to distract his anger enough to appreciate Majors’ desire to solve his case and put a stop to a violent crime against womankind.

  He gave the other man’s hand a shake. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Detectives.” Majors offered Mace the same gesture. “Our next briefing is scheduled Thursday evening. We’ll contact you with the time and location.”

  Jake followed Mace out of the room and counted every heavy footstep back to his office. Once inside, Mace shut the door and straddled his earlier chair. “He wants Bri.”

  “You got that too?” Jake sat behind his desk, planted his elbows on the surface and steepled his fingers. “Too damn bad.”

  “Did he see her last night?”

  “I have no idea, but he wasn’t there by the time I made an appearance.”

  “She is familiar.”

  The fine, fraying string of Jake’s control finally snapped. “Are you crazy, Turner? You agree with using her as bait?”

  The other detective’s eyes widened. “No! Bri’s like the sister I never had. I’m just trying to make comparisons.”

  “Compare someone else.”

  “Okay, what about this? Ask Bri to find someone.”

  “Oh, that would work,” he drawled. “You know what’s gonna happen the exact minute I even mention this whole mess to her.”

  “She’s a psychiatrist, the perfect example of reasonable.”

  “Uh-huh, sure. You know as well as I do that as soon as she catches even the slightest hint a woman is in trouble, reasonable takes a flying
leap out the window. She won’t stop until she finds each and every woman safe and sound.”

  “I think you’re afraid Mabel will kick your ass.”

  “This has nothing to do with Mabel.”

  He ran a hand down the side of his face. He couldn’t keep Bri in the dark for long, not when she happened to be right smack dab in the middle of a whole helluva lot more danger than he’d first thought.

  Why did she insist on dancing? She and Liberty Prescott ran a respectable practice, not to mention both women worked extremely long hours. Granted, Bri wasn’t quite as visual as Liberty – her work with battered women dictated she fade into the background. No one would ever expect to find her at the Velvet Glove. Still, he was serious when he issued his earlier ultimatum.

  “Think harder, Turner.”

  “Were any other girls charged last night?”

  “Not to my knowledge. It would be my best guess the whole purpose of last night’s raid was fact-finding.”

  “I find it hard to believe Jimmy has anything to do with this.”

  “Agreed. But remember, he just runs the place. Lombardy calls all the shots. What about the security team?”

  “I’ll check them out. You think Bri might be able and willing to provide some info?”

  “Maybe.”

  Mace stood. “Just watch yourself. She won’t give you anything if you threaten her with handcuffs.”

  He couldn’t stop his grin. Mace had absolutely no idea just how persuasive he could be with handcuffs.

  ***

  Bri sat straight up, fighting tangled sheets and trying to force her hazy brain to process what had awakened her. Half coherent and now extremely annoyed, she glared at the alarm clock on the table a few inches away a full three seconds, almost daring it to speak, before she realized it sat silent.

  Still curious, she moved her gaze to the alarm system panel next to the door, even more irritated when she squinted to read armed. She released a heavy breath, surprised by the fact that she’d actually slept – normally, sleeping at the clinic meant a thousand interruptions. Almost tempted to leave the warmth of her cocoon to investigate, exhaustion changed her mind and forced her back under the quilt.

  Her eyelashes had just barely touched the tops of her cheekbones when an obnoxious noise spurred her back into action. Groaning out loud, she tossed back the blanket, determined to find the source until she felt something tickle her thigh. She reached down and grasped her cell phone while it vibrated and chirped its usual heavy metal tone.

 

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