Open All Night

by Sahara Kelly

  A note propped up against the still-warm coffeepot caught her eye and for the first time since she’d woken up, she breathed normally.

  See? You idiot. He left a note.

  Barbara - got a call from Chuck. Gonna meet him at the station. Come in when you wake up. I’ll pass along the info from last night. Well, some of it. It was signed with a crooked smiley face.

  She chuckled and poured coffee. He must’ve had his phone on vibrate, since she knew she’d have heard her phone ring. Glancing at the clock she figured it would probably take about twenty minutes or so to get ready and another fifteen to reach the station which would still put her there way ahead of the Sunday day shift.

  She had a little breathing space, which was good since Lou had a tendency to take away her ability to breathe. She didn’t quite know how he did that, or why sex with him should be so frickin’ spectacular. But - all things considered - Barbara was not about to complain.

  She grabbed her coffee and hummed something tuneful as she strolled back towards her room. Lou’s door was open, his clothes tumbled carelessly on the bed as if he’d dressed in a hurry.

  Barbara grinned. Typical man. She went in, intending to quickly fold his clothes at least, tidy away the mess and leave it halfway presentable. She picked up a shirt and breathed in - it smelled of him, all male and tangy with a slight hint of his soap or deodorant…whatever it was it was clean and Lou. It made Barbara’s gut clench as the scent coiled into her brain and reminded her of how it felt to be skin-to-skin with that fragrance.

  She sighed and folded the finely tailored shirt, putting it next to the leather pants she’d admired last night. The label inside the waistband caught her eye and she blinked, leaning closer. They were custom-made pants, Lou’s name carefully embroidered on the tag.

  Well, hell. I guess guys are allowed to splurge too, now and again. Barbara had never met a man who had his pants custom-tailored, but what the heck. She touched the soft leather admiringly, then moved to the closet to find a hanger for them. Inside was Lou’s bag, and she fought a brief but intense battle with her conscience.

  Who’d know? She’d be careful. She just wanted to…to what? Fondle his shorts? Get kinky with his underwear? Barbara shook her head at herself. She was worse than some teen-queen with her first lover. But a need to find out all she could about this man drove her to pry, to invade his privacy, to touch that which was his - and as she did so, to touch him once more.

  So she delved into the bag, stopping short as she found a watch tucked inside a small inner pocket. It was heavy and she delicately pulled it free.

  “Holy fucking shit.” The gleaming piece of jewelry in her hand was nothing like the ordinary watch she was used to seeing on her colleagues.

  This was an exquisite, top-of-the-line timepiece. She squinted at the simple dial, trying to make sense of the letters as they danced in front of her eyes. “It is.” She breathed the words aloud. “It’s a frickin’ Rolex.”

  The brand was clear, black letters beneath the tiny crown, the art and workmanship a clear indicator that this was indeed the real McCoy, not some knockoff he’d bought online to impress people. She blinked at it, knowing she was holding more than seven or eight thousand dollars’ worth of watch in her hand. Where the hell did a cop get a piece like this?

  Carefully she returned it to Lou’s travel bag, and sat back on her heels. There could be plenty of explanations, of course. A gift, an heirloom - although it looked too new to be a legacy piece - perhaps even something he’d saved up for over the years. Could be anything.

  Her curiosity roused, Barbara cautiously tugged Lou’s bag out into the light, noting the two sweaters rolled up on top. She didn’t need to even touch those to guess they were cashmere, but a brush of her fingers confirmed it.

  It would seem that Inspector Franconi liked the finer things in life.

  In a small leather pouch, she found two elegant pens, both of which looked very much like gold. She didn’t recognize the brand names, but they reeked of expensive chic. There were a couple more silk shirts, some rather mundane cotton briefs, and at the very bottom a business card case, heavily engraved and probably also gold. Although white gold.

  She turned it over, noting the appropriate eighteen-carat markings on the back. Yep. White gold.

  Since when did cops need business cards?

  Barbara shook her head. This stuff really wasn’t in keeping with the Lou Franconi she knew. He was far more a down-to-earth-gimme-coffee-and-a-donut type of man. This pricey stuff didn’t seem to fit in with what she’d seen.

  Idly she snapped open the business card case - and paused. There were no cards inside, just a small CD, cleverly designed to fit neatly within a card case.

  She’d seen them before…some had a single song track or a trailer for a movie. They hadn’t really caught on though, making Barbara wonder what this one was.

  Resting back on her knees, she considered the matter intensely. If she did what she wanted, which was to find out what was on this CD, she was going way past the “I slept with this man and just want to touch his stuff” type activity. This would be prying, violating his privacy and galloping past any boundaries of civilized behavior, not to mention dancing over illegal search and seizure and completely ignoring civil rights.

  However, sex notwithstanding, Barbara was first and foremost a cop. A cop who’d been really well fucked last night, but a cop all the same. Her gut told her that Lou was a straight-up guy. Possibly a very rich straight-up guy, but a straight-up guy all the same.

  But the evidence - the stuff she’d been trained to follow for years now - that was painting a slightly different picture and the colors didn’t match. The argument between her gut and her professional instincts was short-lived.

  She took the case and the CD and hurried to her laptop.

  Before she’d really spent more than a few moments considering the ramifications, she’d booted up her system and slipped the little disk into the drive.

  Surprisingly it wasn’t password-protected, either, and Barbara found herself staring at an assortment of typical folders…ones that could be found on any hard drive on any system in the entire world.

  Except that these folders had names that weren’t quite so normal. She squinted at the first four - all named “Profit estimates” and having versions one through four after their titles. They were spreadsheet files.

  She opened one and blinked.

  There were profit estimates for half a dozen different porn movies, based on a variety of different scenarios. Length of release, popularity of actors, subject matter - anything that could affect the money a movie made was listed.

  And the movies themselves were the ones that had been bootlegged.

  Barbara recognized the titles immediately, the list of illegal DVDs having been perused at length in the squad room, along with appropriately adolescent comments.

  Uncomfortable now, she opened the other files. As she did, an overall picture emerged - a pretty complete scenario of the whole bootlegging ring. The money involved was staggering - a helluva lot more than could be accounted for by their small investigation.

  Nope, to Barbara’s eyes this was a sizeable operation, something that was certainly not run by some college kid with a state-of-the-art computer.

  But something that could be masterminded by one brilliant investigator in the right position to protect it.

  Very cautiously, Barbara closed the files and ejected the CD. She wiped it clean of her prints and returned it to the case, which also got a cleaning. Absently, she went back to Lou’s room and returned everything to the way it had been before she entered - or as close as she could remember.

  She did not want him to suspect she’d been prying into his stuff. She certainly did not want him knowing she’d found and read that CD.

  And above all, she did not want him getting the slightest hint that she might be thinking of him as the mind behind the crime.

  Which, unfortunately, she was.<
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  *~~*~~*

  Lou did his very best to concentrate on the case as he listened to the new information and shuffled the files in front of him. Chuck had located a photo of their suspect, which showed a nondescript guy in a baseball cap. Not a huge amount to go on. Nor enough for Lou to say he’d seen him last night at the theater, either.

  Perhaps Barbara might recognize him.

  Lou realized he was waiting for her with a great deal of enthusiasm. Their night together had been one of miracles and magnificence, a stupendous session of fucking that had - to coin a phrase - blown his socks off.

  It was so much more than physical, too. Oh sure the hair and the breasts were a definite turn-on, but Barbara herself was a woman with responses that were off the scale. A sexy, sensual lover with a heart as generous as her measurements. He wanted more of her, more time lost in her body, endless hours free to investigate her hot spots and find new erogenous zones.

  He ignored the fact that buried beneath his lust was a serious case of anxiety. Something unique was happening here, certainly to Lou and - he hoped - to Barbara. He’d never felt quite like this before and if he let it, it would scare the crap out of him.

  Forcing his attention back to the case, Lou determined he was not going to let it. No way, no how.

  Then Barbara walked in and his heart thudded awkwardly, sending a flood of adrenaline through him and overriding his determination with no problem at all. He faced a horridly vivid truth. He was a hairsbreadth away from falling for Detective Barbara Fremont. And falling hard.

  He watched her stride across the room, her movements sure and womanly. She was the most unselfconsciously gorgeously attractive female he could remember meeting - ever. And now he’d had a sampling of her in bed, he knew he wanted more. Much more.

  Her gaze clashed with his and took his breath away. There was heat, desire, passion and he thought he caught a dash of anger - or perhaps fear. Whatever it was, he felt it too - in spades.

  Determined to keep his cool and not embarrass both of them, however, Lou simply nodded at her and then turned back to Chuck. “So this is the dude, huh?”

  Barbara neared the table and Lou included her in his next question.

  “Does he seem familiar to anybody? Got a rap sheet? Prints, anything like that?”

  “We did a skimpy background check when he applied for a job. Basically we have to eliminate any sexual misdemeanors or offenders from our employees. Bad for business.” Chuck wrinkled his nose. “If they’ve got a sheet we check the nature of the offenses. We’re not terribly particular but there are things even we can’t deal with.”

  “Makes sense.” Barbara was tugging at her lower lip. “I can’t say for sure, Chuck, but there’s a strong possibility he was there last night. There were a couple of guys who fit this description and both of ‘em could have shot a copy of the movie.” She turned to Lou. “What do you think?”

  He nodded. “Same as you. He could have been there, but damned if I could testify to it.”

  Chuck sighed. “So we don’t have anything definitive. Damn it.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I hate to wait until the bootleg copies of this one hit the street.” His cell phone rang and he turned away to answer the call.

  “Good morning.” Lou smiled at Barbara. “Sleep well?”

  She failed to meet his eyes. “Yep. Thanks.”

  Lou hid a grin. He figured he was having pretty much the same reaction as she was - if they’d said much more than the commonplace courtesies, they’d give themselves away. The drooling and the climbing all over each other would have been a real strong hint about the state of things between them.

  “Hey. We’ve got a break here.” Chuck interrupted Lou’s train of thought. Thank God. “Studio just got word that kid’s coming by today for something or other. He’s on the gate list so he’ll be allowed inside. You wanna talk to him? We can stop him, detain him if you want…”

  Lou eased off the desk. “Barbara and I will be there. No need to make a big deal out of it - we’ll just pull him aside for a few questions. How about that?”

  “Works for me.” Chuck nodded his approval.

  “Barbara?” Lou turned to her.

  She was looking down at the photos on the desk once more. “Yep. Time to get some more information. If he’s not the main man, perhaps he can give us a lead on who is…”

  Lou tilted his head to one side. “What do you mean?”

  She finally met his gaze, her own expressionless. “I’m just thinking that this is a pretty sophisticated operation for one college kid. And I’m wondering if it’s bigger than just our town and perhaps a few outlets elsewhere.”

  Lou stared steadily back at her. “Good point. That’s a very strong possibility. Perhaps this kid will point us in the right direction, if there is one…”

  She turned away. “Yeah. Perhaps.”

  Puzzled now at Barbara’s lack of emotions, Lou followed her from the room. Must be one of those women-things. Morning-after embarrassment or something. For which the prescription would have to be a lot more nights like last night.

  Note to self…get more condoms.

  *~~*~~*

  Somehow or other, Barbara held her tongue as they drove to BJ Studios. Lou was quiet as well, something for which she was very thankful. Questions trembled on her tongue, suspicions nagged at her thoughts and she tried to put it all in perspective - to balance everything clearly rather than let it become colored with her emotions.

  If Lou was involved in this bootlegging ring, then she was in a shitload of trouble. Because she’d gone and fallen for the guy, slept with him, and generally behaved in a totally unprofessional manner.

  If he wasn’t involved and there was some other explanation for the CD and the swanky stuff, then she was just as guilty of unprofessional behavior, since she’d rummaged through his belongings without his permission. Plus, he could well be seriously pissed that, along with all her other sins, she hadn’t trusted him.

  She sighed silently. This was one major fuckup, no mistake about it. She was almost glad to see the gate to BJ Studios. They were passed through with no problem and directed to the parking lot behind the austere building which housed the actual sound stages and offices.

  Within moments, Chuck was leading them to a small office. “He’s in here. Came in and we asked him to wait a few moments while we cleared his badge. Okay?”

  Lou nodded. “Sure.” He glanced at Barbara. “You ready?”

  “Absolutely.” And that was the truth. She was going to be watching Lou every bit as closely as she watched the kid.

  They entered the little room to find a nervous-looking young man staring at them. “Hey.” He nodded. “Uh…like, you clearing my badge, or what?”

  “Not exactly.” Lou nodded to the chair. “Why don’t you sit down, buddy? Sean, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” The kid sat down as Barbara took up a position near the window where she could see both Lou and the suspect. “I’m Sean Donaldson.”

  “Well, Sean, it’s like this…” In simple terms, Lou explained the bootlegging deal. “So we know that somebody’s filming the movie. Somebody no one would suspect. Somebody rather like you, Sean.”

  “Uh…me?” Sean’s throat wobbled and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “Why me? Plenty of guys like porn.”

  “Yeah, they do.” Lou nodded. “But you’re the only one who’s worked at the studios here. Who knows the schedule of releases, who knows each film very well indeed, and who has the technical smarts to pull it off.”

  “I…wha…you think that I…” Stuttering and blushing, Sean looked everywhere but at Lou.

  “Sean.” Barbara spoke quietly from the side of the room. “Help us. Help us now and things will be a lot easier for you later on down the road.”

  “I…really I don’t know, like…” He shook his head in a move of denial that his voice failed to reinforce.

  “Sean, dude. Give it up. We’ve got enough on you fo
r a warrant to search your rooms. Wanna bet we’d find a state-of-the-art digital movie camera?” Lou glanced at the young man’s cap. “And probably a cap or two with just the right-sized hole cut out of it?”

  Sean jumped at that. “But…I…”

  He stared around, fingers twitching on the desk, vainly looking for a bolt-hole or a place to hide. Lou sighed.

  “I think we’re going to have to arrest him since he’s got nothing useful to say. Perhaps he’ll be more communicative at the station. Detective Fremont, would you care to read him his rights?”

  “Sure.” Barbara eased off the window and moved to stand behind Sean’s chair.

  “Wait.” Sean held up a hand. “Arrest me? For what?”

  “Let’s see.” Barbara leaned over. “Suspicion of involvement in black market sales. Suspicion of illegally videotaping and distributing copyrighted materials.” She tapped his nose with one finger. “You, of all people, should know that copyright violations are serious trouble, dude. Ever try to download free music? Did you hear what happened to the kids who did?”

  Sean nodded. “Yeah. I heard. Some of them got like prosecuted, didn’t they?”

  “Yep.” Barbara nodded back. “You don’t wanna go that route, okay? So give us the skinny, Sean. Just tell us how the scheme worked and maybe the prosecutor will be feeling generous when we talk to him.”

  There was silence in the room for a few moments. “I don’t know anything much, honest.” Sean finally lifted his head and stared at Lou. “I swear. I don’t know anything like - useful.”

  Lou shrugged. “Well, okay then. I guess I believe you.”

  Barbara, however, didn’t. “Uhh…”

  “Look, Detective. If Sean here says he doesn’t know anything, then perhaps he’s right. Detaining him further would probably waste his time and ours.” Lou stared out the window.

  Barbara blinked. Not only didn’t she believe Sean, she also didn’t believe what she was hearing from Lou.