Undercover Encounter

by Rebecca York

  While he tried to get into the files, she searched the drawers. He gave her credit for not wasting time while she was in the office.

  “Here’s something interesting,” she said.

  He clicked back to the previous screen, then turned away from the frustrating session at the computer to look at the leather-bound book she’d pulled from the second drawer on the left.

  He flipped through the pages and found notations that consisted of numbers and letters.

  “This time, I’m sure it’s a code,” Gillian muttered.

  He nodded his agreement.

  “I have no idea what it means,” she added quickly.

  “We don’t have to figure it out in the next five minutes,” he told her as he pulled out another piece of equipment that he’d brought—a miniature camera.

  “Hold the pages open,” he directed as he set the book on the desk.

  Remembering the way they’d gotten surprised the night before, he kept one ear peeled toward the hall while he worked.

  As Gillian flattened the pages, keeping her hand out of the way so he could photograph the information, he was hoping that there would be someone back at headquarters who could take a stab at the meaning of the numbers and letters. Or maybe they could send it to the National Security Agency. A whorehouse code should be a piece of cake for the spooks at Ft. Meade.

  There were a lot of pages in the book.

  “Do you want me to keep holding these open, or should I go back to the desk?” Gillian asked.

  “The desk,” he answered, reaching for a rounded glass paperweight and using it to hold the next page open.

  He had just put the book away when someone tried to turn the knob on the door through which they’d entered.

  He and Gillian both went still.

  “Is someone in there?” a voice called out.

  Neither one of them answered the question.

  “Go away,” Gillian muttered under her breath.

  In the hall, footsteps receded. They waited, neither of them moving. Just as they both breathed a sigh of relief, a section of the paneling to Alex’s right began to slide slowly open.

  He’d promised to keep his hands off Gillian. But that was when he thought they had some privacy. Now he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

  Giving an excellent picture of a man who was totally absorbed in what he was doing, Alex moved his lips over Gillian’s. After a moment of shocked surprise, she responded with equal enthusiasm.

  And when he pulled out the tail of her shirt, slipped his hand underneath and flattened his palm against her back, she didn’t protest.

  He had several heartbeats to wonder if she was just putting on an act before a young woman stepped into the room.

  Standing with the panel gaping open behind her, the woman said, “What are you doing here?”

  Alex gave her a cocky look that went with the personality he’d put on with his delivery boy uniform. “Looking for some privacy,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  Ignoring the question, she addressed herself to Gillian. “Don’t tell me you’re giving the good stuff away. You can get in big trouble if the madam finds out you’ve got something going on the side.”

  Gillian took a step away from him and faced the newcomer. “Pam, I hope you won’t tell her,” she said, her tone properly pleading. “A-Alex and I wanted to…you…know…be alone together.”

  He kept a protective arm around her shoulder. “So what are you doing here?” he asked the newcomer again.

  Probably because he’d put her off balance, the woman turned and carefully closed the panel.

  “We’re all in trouble if somebody catches us,” Gillian said softly. “So we should stick together.”

  The woman named Pam nodded and he hoped to hell they could trust her.

  “Why were you willing to risk getting caught sneaking in here?” Gillian probed.

  Pam swallowed. “You’re not like the usual timid girl who ends up with Madam Dupré, you know.”

  “No. But neither are you.”

  The other woman considered that for several moments, then echoed Alex’s previous thought. “I guess I have to trust you.”

  He wasn’t going to take that on faith.

  “I hope you won’t say anything about this,” Gillian pressed.

  Pam responded with a tight nod. After a moment of si lence she said, “I guess you noticed this morning that I got Lisa in trouble.”

  “Then you kept your head down while she took the heat,” Gillian added.

  “Right. But I figured I could fix it in the computer so she didn’t get any money deducted from her account.”

  Gillian’s eyes widened. “You can do that?” she asked.

  “Yes. I used to work with computers—in my old life.” Pam moved to the desk and tapped the keyboard. The screen, which had gone black again, leaped to life once more.

  “Won’t the madam notice?”

  “She probably put a notation in the file, but she doesn’t keep the accounts. There’s a guy who comes in for that, you know.”

  “What guy?” Alex asked quickly.

  She shrugged. “He’s a friend of mine.”

  “Oh yeah? Are you telling me you like living dangerously, too?” Alex asked.

  Pam merely glanced over her shoulder at him and gave him a saucy wink before bringing up the screen with the names of the women. She clicked on Lisa’s file, confirming that the list really did refer to the women working in the establishment. When she was asked for a password, she typed rapidly on the keyboard.

  “How do you know the password?” Alex asked.

  “My friend gave it to me, you know.”

  When she’d brought up Lisa’s file, she went in and removed the notation about reducing her earnings.

  “So what else is in the computer?”

  “I haven’t had occasion to find out,” she answered, but the little catch in her voice told him that she was probably lying.

  “How did you find the secret panel?” he asked.

  “We have a lot of spare time during the day. And I like to have a good handle on my environment.”

  Alex nodded, thinking that was a pretty good policy and also wondering if this woman was more than she seemed to be. He’d like to check on her. But even if he found out her last name, it might be an alias.

  Apparently she was anxious to clear out. “Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,” she said.

  “Show me how the panel works,” Gillian said, “so we can get in here whenever we want to.”

  Pam turned to her inquiringly. “If you didn’t use the panel, how did you get in?”

  He saw her face go a shade whiter as she realized she’d made a tactical mistake.

  He made a split second decision and said, “The door to the hall was unlocked.”

  “Oh yeah? That’s interesting,” the prostitute answered. “Don’t tell the madam, or Frank will get in trouble. And if he knows you ratted on him, you’ll be sorry.”

  “I wasn’t planning to say anything,” Gillian answered quickly.

  Behind Pam’s back, they exchanged a look that said they were both wondering if the woman believed their story.

  She turned to the section of the wall and demonstrated the hidden mechanism. Alex stepped through and saw a small passageway that led to the back of a closet where coats were hung.

  “The closet opens into a side hall,” Pam said.

  “Thanks,” he answered.

  “See you later,” the woman said and disappeared.

  Alex stepped back into the room.

  “Do you think she believes us?” Gillian asked in a low voice.

  “I hope so. But we have to stay here for a while to make it look good.”

  Gillian nodded. “I don’t want to take a chance on any more snooping. Not now.”

  “Okay,” he agreed, because his thoughts were similar. They’d had a close call, and he didn’t want to put Gillian in an even worse
position. But after holding her in his arms a few minutes ago, he couldn’t simply stand here staring at her. And he was hoping she felt the same way. When he held out his arms, she came to him and leaned her head against his shoulder.

  He stroked his hand over her back, then reached to play with her hair.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’ve been better. And don’t give me any crap about ‘I told you so.’”

  “I’ll keep my mouth shut on that point,” Alex murmured.

  “What other points do we have to discuss?”

  “Well, we don’t really know if Pam was telling the truth about what she was doing here. Do you believe the story she told us?”

  “I’ll reserve judgment on that,” Gillian finally answered. “Maybe she’s some sort of spy. The question is for whom?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe you’ll get a handle on that. But more important, do you think she’ll turn us in?”

  Gillian shook her head. When she tipped her face up toward his, the troubled look in her eyes tore at him. He wanted to wipe the anxiety off her face, but there was nothing he could say to reassure her. The only thing he could do was lower his mouth to hers again for a passionate kiss.

  His goal was to make her forget where they were and why. At least for the moment. Perhaps he wanted to forget that, too.

  He didn’t have to coax her to open her lips. She did that at once, giving him a taste of her intoxicating essence.

  He angled his head first one way and then the other, wanting more of her and still more.

  When he finally had to draw a breath, she whispered his name and he raised his face to look at her—seeing her skin so white in the dim light.

  One of her hands lifted, slowly, slowly to touch his face. “Thank you for being here,” she whispered.

  There wasn’t much he could do for her. Not on a twenty-four-hour basis. She was locked in this house of horrors and all he could manage was a couple of brief appearances.

  The realization brought a desperate edge to his emotions as he found her mouth again. Gathering her close, he absorbed the feel of her body against his.

  It wasn’t enough. Not hardly. Shifting her upper body, he slid his hand between them so that he could cup one of her breasts.

  Her blouse was thin. So was her bra, and he could feel the tight crest of her nipple pressing against his palm.

  The potent combination of his mouth on hers and his hand on her breast fueled the buzz that had started in his head.

  When she murmured something incoherent, he deepened the kiss. Hot need flowed through his body. Leaning back against the desk, he gathered her in, rocking her hips against his as he devoured her mouth, using his tongue, his lips, his teeth in an assault that should have gotten him arrested.

  Her lower body moved urgently against his.

  For long moments nothing existed in the universe besides the two of them giving and taking pleasure with each other. Every reaction, every nuance, ricocheting through him, each sensation reinforcing the others until his senses were swamped.

  Then sanity came zinging back. He was going out to the van when he left this room. Seth would expect a report. And he wanted to be able to explain what had happened in this room with a straight face.

  So he lifted his mouth from Gillian’s. “Honey,” he breathed, “I’m afraid we have to get out of here before somebody else discovers us.”

  He watched her vision come back into focus, watched the expression on her face go from spaced-out to practical—with a touch of something that made his chest tighten.

  “Yes,” she murmured, reaching to tuck in her blouse. She took several deep breaths, then said, “Why don’t I try that hidden door—to make sure I know how it works.”

  Before he could answer, she swept out of the room, and he knew that he’d hurt her by stopping things so abruptly. But maybe that was good. Maybe the two of them could keep this impersonal.

  Sure. Right.

  GILLIAN CLOSED THE CLOSET door firmly but quietly behind her, stepped into the side hall and gave herself several minutes to get her breathing under control. When she felt nearly back to normal, she checked her face in a nearby mirror. Satisfied with her appearance, she scanned the corridor. When she was sure the coast was clear, she hurried back to the kitchen where she poured another mug of coffee so she had a reason to be downstairs.

  Carrying the mug, she went out to the sunporch where several of the women were gathered. Pam was absent, but Dolly was among them and Gillian complimented her on the new hairstyle. That led to a discussion of hair and makeup and the pros and cons of cosmetic surgery. Gillian was glad to join in. She didn’t want to think about Alexander McMullin. She’d almost made another bad mistake. She was letting herself feel dependent on him. He might be out there in the van watching out for her. And that was making him feel protective. But she knew from experience that everything would change once the drug dealers were put out of business.

  And another thing she knew from experience. Alexander McMullin had the power to break her heart, if she let herself care about him too much.

  So she had to keep her distance. Emotionally. But how could she do that when he was her lifeline to the outside world? When every time she spoke a sentence in her room, she imagined him listening in?

  Too bad the only way to get a message out to Lieutenant LeBarron was over the transmitter. She’d like to tell him she wanted somebody else on surveillance detail. But she wasn’t going to use tricks to get Alex back in here. She was going to finish up her undercover job and get back to her patrol cop duties—where she belonged.

  Chapter Nine

  Alex strode back to the van, hoping his poker face was in place.

  “You were gone for a long time. I was starting to worry,” Seth said.

  “No problems,” he reassured him. “I got a chance to nose around one of the offices.”

  “Find anything good?”

  “I’ve photographed the pages of a book Gillian found in the desk drawer.”

  “Gillian—you hooked up with her.”

  “Yeah,” he said, then went back to the book. “The notations are in code. I’d like to get them back to headquarters where somebody else can analyze the data.”

  “Let me drop you off there,” Seth offered.

  “Appreciate it,” Alex answered.

  AS SOON AS he entered the building, he went straight to Conrad Burke’s office.

  “You look like a man with a mission,” the director commented, glancing up from his desk.

  “I’ve got some film that could be significant.” Succinctly, he reported on the book that he and Gillian had discovered.

  “Drop it off at the lab on the way out.”

  “I already did. And we need to check out a greasy-looking guy named Gaspard. Gillian says he’s the real owner of the bordello, or he works for the real owner.”

  “What’s his first name?”

  “She doesn’t know.”

  Conrad made a note about Gaspard, then leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got some information for you, too.”

  “From the look on your face, I wouldn’t say it was good.”

  “The amount of Category Five in New Orleans has increased dramatically since that contingent from Nilia arrived in town. Could be a coincidence but we’re not ruling out the possibility that that’s where the stuff is coming from.”

  “Can we do anything about it?” Alex asked. “Like arrest their asses? Some grueling interrogation sessions might do wonders for the Category Five investigation.”

  “I’d love to. But they’re being careful. As far as we can tell, they haven’t done anything illegal.”

  They kicked around various ideas for several minutes.

  That got Alex thinking that if he were a dirty cop, he’d go out and plant some evidence that would get the rebels hauled down to the station house. Getting arrested might make them think twice about making the Crescent City the focus of their operation—regardless of what t
hat operation was.

  “What?” Conrad asked, and Alex realized that he’d been sitting across from his boss, hatching plots that were better left to a spy movie.

  “I was just thinking that we need to figure out a way to get them,” he murmured.

  The head of operations nodded. “We could probably bring them in on something minor, but then we’d miss the big cheese.”

  “Yeah,” Alex agreed. He knew Conrad was angry because he wanted to get the bastards responsible for what had happened to Wiley Longbottom. Alex had only met Longbottom on the night they’d all gone to Bourbon Street Libations. So he didn’t have the same feelings for the man that Conrad possessed. His own concerns were different.

  As he finally extracted himself from the office, he was thinking about Gillian. The more drugs in town, the more danger for her. Like, were they going to ask her to give the stuff to a customer? He hoped she’d have to work there for a few weeks before they trusted her to do that. And in a few weeks, she’d better be out of there. Or—

  That alternative made his mouth go dry. He’d known all along that Gillian was stepping into quicksand. More than ever, he wanted to yank her the hell to solid ground. But that wasn’t his call. They were in the middle of a covert operation and they were both going to have to see it through.

  RICARDO GONZALEZ PAUSED to admire the sweetly gurgling fountain at the end of the sunroom. In the center of a round marble basin, a cherub was peeing into the water. He loved the whimsy of the figure.

  In fact, the whole indoor garden was charming. It was in the back of a sixteen-room house in the area of town he’d learned was called the Garden District. He’d bought the mansion, furnishings included, for his New Orleans headquarters. And he planned to leave a contingent of men here when he left again for Nilia.

  He wasn’t sure when that would be. It mostly depended on how fast his various deals were firmed up. He might have to kill his current U.S. partner. But that wouldn’t be a problem. He could easily get rid of the man if he proved to be uncooperative and find someone else who was more cooperative.