by Taylor Lee
“Dammit, Sly. You know that this is the right move. Lopez needs to understand that I’m on to him.”
Exasperated, Sly had said, “For fuck sakes, Vivi, what are you going to do? Tell the prick to stop being a bad guy?”
“No, Sly, I’m going to tell him that running call girls is one thing but pimping underage girls is another. I’m not going to let him know that I know about the prostitution ring. Nope, I’m just going to tell him that the word on the street is that he’s active on the kiddie stroll, and I want him to reconsider.”
Her cocky certainty that she could scare off Lopez took a fast elevator to hell when the door opened and the tall, slender man emerged. Viviana didn’t know what she’d expected, maybe a tatted-up version of Zappa’s Willie the Pimp perhaps, at least that he would meet some of the stereotypes. Jeez, he could have prison tats, maybe be a skinhead, and a minimum of four or five goons accompanying him. Instead the astonishingly handsome Latino wearing Chimala jeans, which Viviana knew were five hundred dollars-plus per pop and the Tom Ford biker jacket blew her expectations to hell. If his appearance was a surprise, his mannerisms were shocking.
Nodding to whomever was still inside the vintage automobile, Lopez said in a soft, Spanish-tinged voice, “Please pick me up in ten minutes.” He turned to Viviana and asked, “I’m presuming that will be enough time for our discussion?”
Viviana nodded and thought inanely as the car drove down the alley and disappeared, so much for the accompanying goons.
Reaching in his breast pocket, Lopez withdrew a pack of Davidoff cigarettes. The slim black box lettered in gold spoke to its exclusive lineage. Tapping the end of the box, he offered one of the slim cigarettes to Viviana. She took it, managing not to sniff the Dominican treat and waited until he snapped open what looked like a solid gold lighter and lit her cigarette and then his own. Sucking in an appreciative lungful of the aromatic smoke, he smiled at her. Viviana quickly did the same and nodded as she savored the rich smoke. Not wanting to give him too much of an advantage, she said with grin, “Pimping whores must be paying well these days.”
The handsome man gave a diffident shrug and said, “It depends.”
At Viviana’s raised brow, he said with a genuine smile, “On who is doing the pimping.”
Viviana nodded in agreement and added, “And who they are pimping?”
Rather than answering her loaded question, Lopez shifted. “Please, tell me, to what I owe the honor of an invitation from none other than the Enchantress herself? But before you answer my question, may I tell you that you are even more beautiful than your storied reviews forecast.”
Viviana laughed and shook her head. “And may I tell you, Mr. Lopez, that you are far from the violent, feared pimp that I expected.” She added with a smile, “At least in appearance.”
Again, shrugging as if no one could have told her the depth of his evil, he said, “Now that we both have exceeded expectations, what can I do for you?”
Appreciating his direct approach, Viviana borrowed one of Sly’s lines, even though she didn’t believe it. “I’m at base a libertarian, or perhaps a better description is renegade. That said, I believe that consenting adults can do anything they damn well please and not get in my crosshairs. Indeed, one of my closest friends is a madam. But, Santiago—if I may call you that?” At his murmured consent, Viviana continued. “Where I draw a line in the sand is pimping underage girls.”
Santiago nodded as if he’d expected her response. “Yes, our mutual friend said as much.” He was quiet for a moment and then said softly, “Are you threatening me, Sergeant Moreau?”
Viviana mimicked his diffident shrug and said, “Yes, I am.”
When he didn’t respond, Viviana let a minute or two go by as she enjoyed the Davidoff, then said, “I’m well aware that you could ‘take me out’ in a minute. In fact, before you even leave this alley.”
When Lopez blew out a cloud of smoke and nodded in agreement, Viviana continued. “Unfortunately for you, Santiago, I have a weapon that is stronger than mere firearms.”
At his questioning brow, she grinned and said, “My weapon is me.” At his quizzical frown, she continued. “You see, I am a media darling. Without doing more than appearing on television or releasing the shitload of documentation I have at my fingertips, I can have every media outlet in the country from the Wall Street Journal to Fox News headlining your activities as breaking news.”
Viviana once again let the silence settle. Finally Lopez asked, “May I ask why you are so passionate about young whores?”
“You can ask, but let’s just say that I have a personal interest in protecting young girls, and young boys for that matter.”
Santiago Lopez turned his full gaze on her and studied her. “If I’m hearing you correctly, Sergeant Moreau, may I assume that you are telling me that I do not want to have the Enchantress as an enemy?”
Viviana tossed the remainder of the refined cigarette to the ground. Snuffing it out under the heel of her boot, she said with a smile, “And I’m not crazy about the idea of having you as an enemy.”
Lopez took out his cell and hit a key. Almost instantaneously the classic convertible appeared at the end of the alley and in seconds had pulled alongside them. As he prepared to step into the dark interior, Lopez said with a soft smile, “A standoff of sorts?” When she nodded, he gave her a slight bow and said, “An interesting proposal, Sergeant Moreau. May I say that you have exceeded your reputation in every way?”
As she stood in the dark alleyway that seemed benign now that he was gone, Viviana took several deep breaths to calm the frenetic rush of adrenaline flooding her body. Overall, she was pleased with her performance. She’d stood toe-to-toe with the powerful man and lived to tell about it. Moreover, she’d laid down a marker, and he’d acknowledged that her ability to make him the pimp of the century was a credible threat. All Viviana could hope was that she could hold him off long enough for her to bring down the whole damn trafficking ring—including Santiago Lopez. Trying to assess her chances for success, she wished she hadn’t looked into his eyes when he faced her head on. She’d seen eyes like his before. She called them soulless. She couldn’t define the term per se, she only knew that behind those soulless eyes dwelt incalculable evil.
Chapter 21
Sly’s frown was so deeply etched on his forehead that Viviana questioned whether anything short of Botox could remove it. She didn’t need him haranguing her to know that he was beyond upset with her.
“Goddammit, Viviana! I have a good mind to call that hotshot commander of yours and tell him that not only should he put you on desk duty, he should chain you to the fucking desk, preferably one next to his.”
Viviana groaned. “Trust me, he doesn’t need any suggestions from you, Sly. In addition to desk duty, tonight he warned me that he was considering chipping me like a fucking puppy dog. Add to that his desk duty threat and suggesting he’ll spank my perky ass . . . ”
“Whoa, whoa! Did I just hear you say that righteous man actually said that he would spank your perky ass?”
Knowing that her cheeks had to be flaming, Viviana couldn’t believe that she’d told Sly, of all people, Jax’s suggestive threat. God, when he’d said it, she’d had to fight the sexy sensations that shot through her groin. As if she’d ever let him do such an outrageous thing to her. Even so, seeing Sly’s obvious delight and salacious grin confirmed that she wasn’t the only one who had been shocked by his arrogant threat.
Glaring at Sly, she said, “Let it drop, Sly. You just need to know that he is a true pain in the ass. I have never met a more arrogant, overbearing man. And yes, if it were up to him, he would chip me so that he would know every damn thing I’m doing.” Her voice rose. “You know that’s not the way I roll, and by damn, no one including Commander Jaxton Hughes is going to change that.”
Sly shook his head. “I dunno, Vivi, I have to tell you what you did tonight was pure idiocy. You threatened one of the three most dangerous
men I’ve met in a lifetime of romping with the worst of the worst. I’m telling you, Lopez makes Ted Bundy look like a choirboy.”
Viviana shrugged. “Hmm, maybe he’s as dangerous but sure not in looks. You didn’t tell me that Lopez could put the ten hottest Hollywood Latinos to shame.”
Sly shook his head. “Which only makes him more dangerous. I’m telling, you, Viv, the guy is bad to the bone.”
Viviana gave a sarcastic snort. “I kind of got that impression, Sly. By the way, for some reason, I video recorded the conversation on my super-smart phone. I guess in the back of my mind, I was thinking if I got slaughtered in the middle of the night, you’d have evidence to back up who did it.”
At Sly’s horrified gasp, Viviana put up her hands, indicating she was done discussing Lopez. “Enough, all that means is that we have to work quickly before he decides I’m no longer interesting and decides to snuff me out. Which brings me to Ariel. Is she coming? God, it’s nearly eleven o’clock and I have to report in to my overbearing commander when I’m done.”
When Sly raised a questioning brow, Viviana shook her head. “Yeah, I know. I could text him right now and tell him I’m home, but I want to save my lies for the big ones, the ones that matter.”
Sly groaned. “Like the fact that you threatened the guy who is on the ten most wanted lists of dangerous criminals in every major PD in the country?”
She sighed. “Yeah, like that.”
Relenting, Sly said with a frown, “Okay, on to Ariel. I talked to her while you were waiting for Lopez. I thought we were going to meet, but she called me later to say she couldn’t get away tonight. I think she’s just plain scared, Viv. I told her that we wanted to show her a couple of pictures to see if she recognized any of the men. If they’d been at the parties. She agreed, particularly when I told her that we could meet in the morning. It seems she actually has a day job. She waitresses at the Denny’s on Bridge Street. I can’t go there in my madam garb at eight thirty in the morning, but I told her you could.”
“I don’t know, Sly. Is there a chance that they might be following her?”
“By they, you mean Lopez’s goons? Shit, yes! Especially after you met with Dr. Claw’s evil twin and told him that you have a boner for underage strollers.”
Viviana was thoughtful. “I have an idea. How about I put copies of the photographs in an envelope? I’ll number them. I’ll get Mick to stop by Denny’s and make sure that she waits on him. He can slip her the envelope. All she’ll have to do is text you the numbers of any of the assholes she recognizes.”
After playing with the idea for a few minutes, they agreed on a plan. Glancing at her phone, Viviana saw that it was past midnight. God, no wonder she was beat. She’d had a sum total of less than five hours of sleep in the last two nights. Thanks in large part to the man who was no doubt waiting for her text. Stripping off her clothes and opting for a tank top and booty shorts, she headed for her deck. Except for working her ass off in the gym or pounding up a running trail, nothing soothed her more than sitting on her balcony long into the night and sipping on expensive whiskey. After pouring her drink and reveling in the spectacular sky that was putting on its nocturnal lightshow, Viviana blew out a breath and texted, “I’m home.”
In seconds, the return text said, “Can you talk?” Debating if she should tell him that she was exhausted, she knew it would just be postponing the inevitable. Sighing, she texted, “If I have to.”
The buzz of the incoming call was his answer.
“I’ll try to make this quick, Sergeant. I’m sure you’re tired. All I want to hear is who you met with tonight and what information you got.”
Viviana snorted. “Oh is that all!” At his chuckle, she said in an ornery voice, “Just so you know, that is more than I told Captain Michels until months after I closed a case—if then.”
“Not to be a broken record, Viviana—”
She interrupted him. “I know, I know, you are not Captain Michels.”
“No, Sergeant, I’m not.” When Viviana chose not to speak, he said, “Okay, I’ll take the lead. Who were you with tonight?”
At her hesitation, he said, “That’s not a hard question, Sergeant.” He paused, then asked, “Or, is it?”
Suddenly truly exhausted, Viviana rested her head on the tabletop and spoke wearily into her cell phone. “I . . . I’m sorry, Jax, but I’m more tired than I realized. Can . . . can we do this tomorrow?”
His sigh was audible. “When you put it like that, Viviana, I can hardly refuse. I have a breakfast meeting but will be back by nine thirty at the latest.”
“Okay, I need to meet with Mick, but we should be done by then.”
He was silent and then said quietly, “Viviana, you’re making this much harder than it needs to be. If you gave me a chance, you might discover that I can help you. This seems like a fucking big case for you to try to manage all by yourself.”
Viviana thanked him for letting her off the hook, then closed her eyes and shook her head as she ended the call. Breathing a hard sigh, she thought, God, if he only knew how truly big it was.
After talking with Mick, confirming that he would meet with Ariel in the morning and arranging for Sly to get the envelope to her, Viviana decided that she wasn’t as tired as she’d felt before. Gazing longingly at her cell phone, she wondered what her arrogant commander would do if she called him back. And say what? She couldn’t tell him what she’d done tonight—no way—but she wondered if he might be willing to come over and just hold her. The way that he had . . .
Acknowledging that she truly must be exhausted to consider such an outrageous proposition, Viviana chided herself. When was she going to admit that no matter what he said, no matter how he teased her, no matter how he came on to her, the formidable commander was a player? The only thing that softened the crushing hurt was knowing that he was playing that bitch Deidre as much as he was her.
****
Jax glared at his cell phone, then smacked it on the table. He snorted in frustration. Nothing like blaming his phone. Christ, what was he supposed to do? Tell her that he knew she was tired but that she still needed to talk to him? He was supposed to ignore the fact that she was exhausted? Jesus, how could she not be? She’d looked like hell this morning, and that was before Deidre barged into his office spewing her own special brand of bedlam. He’d actually felt that Viviana was ready to confide in him, that she might even admit that she needed help. Enter Deidre Cummings. Fuck, that destructive woman had turned his whole fucking office upside down. But it was clear that her target was Viviana. Her carefully honed vitriol couldn’t have been better timed. Particularly her simpering disclosure that Jax had been with her the night before. Given their provocative post-midnight conversation, that revelation must have hit Viviana in a vulnerable place. No doubt it confirmed her conviction that he was a two-timing lout! And dammit, Deidre knew that. Jax admitted with a disgusted grunt that in addition to attacking Viviana, Ms. Cummings had a message for him. She’d said in the most damning way possible that no one, including him, walked out on Ms. High and Mighty Cummings.
Shoving at the challenging memory of Deidre and knowing that he needed to deal with the overbearing woman’s misplaced conviction that he was interested in her, Jax turned back to his earlier conversation with Viviana. He’d been furious when the little minx blew off their 6:00 p.m. meeting. When she didn’t show, he’d seriously considered tracking her down—Christ, put out a BOLO on her if necessary. Fortunately his better angels had prevailed, and he’d waited until she contacted him—three hours after they were scheduled to meet. The upshot was after a few tepid prevarications, she told him that she’d never agreed to meet and that he could essentially shove his “request” up his ass.
Now three hours later, when she’d obviously been on a mission, she put him off again, pleading that she was too tired to talk. She probably was, which was why he let her off the hook, at least for tonight. Tomorrow morning was a different story. He now knew her
well enough to know that she was on to something big. He also knew that her almost pathological MO was to go it alone. The worst part was that she wasn’t above lying to him. If not overtly, most definitely covertly. He huffed. The problem for the challenging detective was that she’d never worked with him before. But she was about to find out that he truly was not her former captain or any of the legions of men she’d bamboozled. Egotistical asshole that he was, Jax knew that he could help her. She was an amazing detective. She had extraordinary insights. But as courageous as she was, she didn’t have a self-protective bone in her gorgeous body. She truly believed that she could handle any dangerous man or situation—alone. What she needed was a confidant who was as smart as she was but more grounded . . . like him. A man who was prepared to command her in more ways than one.
****
Viviana settled into the chair in front of his desk and tossed him a saucy grin. “How about we change our usual repartee, Commander Hughes?”
Jax laughed. “Are you suggesting that you are prepared to tell me what you did last night and with whom you did it?”
Making it clear that she wouldn’t go that far, Viviana tossed her head and said dismissively, “Before you get to your tiresome questions, how about I ask where you were last night?” When he frowned and raised a questioning brow, she said insolently, “It would be nice to know, Commander, if we’re going to be interrupted by one of your many women who can’t wait to tell the world how exciting you were the night before.”
Viviana had been determined to take the initiative, put him on guard the way that he did her and, yes, take control of the fucking conversation. She knew she’d made a major misjudgment when he rose and rounded his desk. Reaching for her hands, he pulled her out of her chair and said in a husky voice, “C’mere, you. It’s clear we need to talk.”