by Lori Foster
“I think so. They’re talking with officers now, and they seem to be in charge or something.”
Interesting. Maybe this would be better than killing them. It’d give him an opening, a way to infiltrate. He pondered the different plays and came to a decision. “Follow them.”
A heavy pause, rife with uncertainty. “To...a police station?”
“Sure.” Though he’d sent for her earlier, Woody waved off the girl responsible for unbuttoning his shirt. She moved to a chair, sat down and waited.
Like a good girl.
“But...” DeeDee tried to come up with logical arguments.
He hated being questioned—by anyone. “Wait there until they come back out, and then follow. I want to know where they live.”
She hesitated. “What if they see me?”
“Make sure they don’t.” DeeDee had aspirations of moving up in the organization. Unlike some of the girls, she was more eager to please.
As if he’d ever give any authority or power to a bimbo.
“You blend in, Dee. It should be a piece of cake for you to stick close without being noticed.” Because she wanted to stand out and be noticed, that subtle insult had her bristling.
Trying to sell him on her value, she said, “I already hit on that rough bruiser, like you asked.”
“I know. You’re meeting him tonight, right?” Woody glanced at his watch. “Plenty of time to do both.”
“I haven’t eaten since early this morning.”
God, he detested whining. “If you aren’t able to handle things, just say so. I can ask Michelle to take over instead.”
“Michelle?”
“Yes.” He looked at the trembling girl sitting across the room. “She’s been anxious to gain my favor, anyway.”
Michelle swallowed hard and looked away, her fear so palpable that he wondered how she functioned. She had enough sense not to run away, to perform as expected. And she did try to stay on his good side—but she was far too skittish to ever be trusted with anything important.
Anything beyond a blow job.
“I can do it,” DeeDee groused.
Perfect. He could always count on DeeDee’s vanity to keep her working harder. She wanted to be top girl.
She wanted to be his partner. Woody bit off a laugh at her foolishness.
“Report back after you get the info.”
“Okay, but...who should I follow? I mean, I can’t follow three people, can I?”
So damn stupid. Did he need to do all her thinking for her? “Don’t worry about the woman.” Women were always inconsequential. “You’ll be meeting one guy at the bar tonight, right? So follow the other today.”
“Oh, okay. Sure.” DeeDee cleared her throat, then said, “I did tell you that the cop is the same guy who was here this morning, right? The one the rough guy called?”
Slowly, Woody dropped his feet and sat forward. No, she hadn’t told him that. His eyes narrowed. His mouth flattened with his annoyance.
So, they were onto...something. Sniffing around twice. How much did they know?
Who had talked?
Seeing his dark expression, Michelle let out a whimper.
Woody ignored her. He held the phone tighter, and said to DeeDee, “Tell me now. And don’t leave anything out.”
* * *
IT WASN’T EASY, doing a job bare-chested because your lieutenant needed the shirt off your back. The sun had broiled both his shoulders and his temper. This time, it would take a lot to shake off the vigilant, edgy anger. It would take Alice—but he couldn’t have her, not just yet.
By the time the backup had arrived—which to Reese’s way of thinking had taken longer than necessary—they’d already reached Rowdy’s car without incident and had circled back around to the scene.
All had been quiet.
Instead of giving pursuit, the shooters had vacated the tattoo parlor, taking the two downed men with them.
The boys in blue, as Rowdy liked to refer to them, showed up well after that.
Reese wanted to believe that Lieutenant Peterson had scoured out the corruption, but it seemed beyond suspect to him that a five-minute ETA had taken twelve minutes instead.
Seven minutes could mean the difference between life and death. He’d been furious—but Rowdy seemed to think nothing of it.
Even dressed in his shirt, Lieutenant Peterson took over with ease, calling for several specific officers and dismissing the two who’d arrived tardy.
Once they’d secured the scene, the unis had gone from door to door, establishment to establishment, querying everyone in the area. Reese wasn’t surprised that everyone had claimed not to see a damned thing.
Sometimes it was safer to play deaf, dumb and blind, especially with criminals outrageous enough to attempt murder in broad daylight.
If that had been their intent. At this point, he refused to make assumptions.
The entire day had slipped away, and still they hadn’t turned up the owner who’d fled out the back. Far as Reese was concerned, that made him guilty as hell.
Not more than an hour ago, after reminding Reese to keep her in the loop, Peterson had stormed off like a thundercloud. He’d assumed she would go home and change clothes before heading to the station. Reese didn’t envy anyone who crossed her path tonight.
Not that long ago, he would have dealt with his simmering frustration and spiked temper with a long shower, a beer, a willing woman and then a good night’s sleep—in that exact order.
It said something, Reese thought, that he hadn’t even considered going to his own apartment. Bad as the day had been, when he thought of heading home, it meant being with Alice.
Tonight, it also meant visiting with Rowdy and Logan, Pepper and Dash, as they all congregated at Alice’s place.
How did she feel about that? For a woman who’d tried so hard to close herself off from the world, it had to be disconcerting that Reese had not only bullied his way in, he’d brought a crowd.
And not just any crowd.
No longer looking so dangerous, Rowdy lounged comfortably on her couch, Cash draped over his lap to soak up attention. It was a little eerie, how Rowdy switched from lethal to carefree in such a short time.
Dash had shown up with Logan and Pepper to wait with Alice, and now they still hung around.
At least Peterson hadn’t joined them, thank God. Reese knew he’d never again be able to look at her the same way.
When he’d shown up shirtless, Alice had not-so-inconspicuously checked him over head to toes before going off to the kitchen to prepare coffee.
Pepper accompanied her. Reese had a million things on his mind. He easily could have died today, Peterson and Rowdy with him. The clash with the gunman left his knuckles bruised, his right knee swollen and his head throbbing.
What should have been a simple case of surveillance had sharply morphed into audacious, reckless destruction. The stakes had gone from implicit danger to attempted murder.
But he wasn’t teetering off his axis because of any of that. His world had gone upside down because of Alice, because of how much he’d anticipated getting back to her. How much he’d wanted to hold and touch her after the disturbing events of the day.
Yes, he could have died; he’d faced that possibility many times in his job, and he’d always fallen to his usual routine to put the ugliness behind him.
But the usual didn’t cut it anymore. Not since Alice, not since realizing that death me
ant never seeing her again.
He didn’t even know how to function with caring that much for a woman.
Running a hand over his face, Reese rested back in the chair and tried to come to grips with her effect on him.
“Your lieutenant surprised me.”
At Rowdy’s lighthearted tone, Reese opened one eye and stared at him.
While still stroking the dog, Rowdy smiled.
Insane. After the violent chaos of the day, Rowdy didn’t look ruffled. He showed no aftermath of a near-death experience. He didn’t even look all that worried.
He smiled as if...amused.
Great. Rowdy must have a damned death wish or, at the very least, a severe lack of concern for his own life. Shortly, Rowdy planned to head to the bar for his meeting with DeeDee. But now, after what had happened, no way could Reese let him go through with it.
“You’re talking about Margo?” At the other end of the couch, Dash showed blatant interest.
Who the hell was Margo? “Her name is Margaret.” And to clarify further, Reese said, “Lieutenant Margaret Peterson.”
Dash shrugged. “Yeah, but she goes by Margo.”
Brows raised, Logan and Reese shared a look that asked, Since when?
“So,” Dash pushed. “What did she do?”
“Not what she did, so much,” Rowdy said. “But how she looked doing it.” That particular, male-inspired tone said it all, but still Rowdy added, “Reese knows what I mean. I thought his eyes would fall out when he saw her.”
So, Rowdy had somehow witnessed his surprise?
Both Dash and Logan turned to Reese for enlightenment.
In his defense, Reese blurted, “She has a set of breasts on her.” That sounded so absurd, he rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the growing tension.
“Who?” Logan asked, mired in confusion.
Again Rowdy helped out. “Lieutenant Peterson.”
Logan pulled back. “You saw her...” And then in a choked whisper, “Breasts?”
“Couldn’t help it,” Rowdy supplied. “She showed up in this boner-inspiring outfit, and that was enough to drop Reese’s eyeballs right there. But then after one of the men grabbed for her, she lost her blouse.”
“Stop grinning, damn it.” Reese squeezed his eyes shut. “Jesus, never in a million years did I expect...that.”
Dash snorted. “What did you think? That she’d have chest hair?”
Not really, but he hadn’t expected her to be so lush. “Chest hair, and possibly brass balls to go with it.”
“Exactly,” Logan agreed.
“Don’t be dumb,” Dash said, entertained at Reese’s expense. “She is a woman after all.”
Rowdy lifted a hand. “Noticed.”
Stunned silent, Logan gaped at his soon-to-be brother-in-law.
Rowdy said, “What? She’s sexy, whether you two clowns want to see it or not. But,” he added, cutting off verbal reactions, “she’s also a lieutenant. Sort of takes the fun out of it.”
“Maybe for detectives working under her command.” Dash sent a crooked grin to Rowdy. “Or someone determined to butt heads with the law.” Then he held out his arms. “As it happens, I’m neither.”
Well, hell, Reese thought. Alice had nailed that one.
Logan looked equal parts ill, alarmed and outraged, so Reese filled in the deafening silence. “It’s got nothing to do with her rank in the force or any of that. It’s that Peterson always dresses so...hell, I don’t know. So ‘official’ that it’s hard to see anything feminine.”
In a low, appreciative murmur, Rowdy said, “Saw all kinds of feminine things today.”
No kidding. “But she’s actually very...” With Logan, Dash and Rowdy all waiting for his description, Reese floundered. Hot wasn’t the right word, not for his lieutenant, not to say to his partner, not in front of Dash and Rowdy.
“I don’t want to know.” Logan pushed away from his seat. “I’d as soon block all that from my brain right now.”
Yeah, Reese, too. But the sight of the lieutenant’s breasts would always be there now, between them.
No! God, no. Not between them. Just...there.
Peterson wasn’t Alice; she didn’t fire his blood and make him stupid with carnal hunger. She didn’t occupy his thoughts morning, noon and night, or get him hard by her presence alone. He didn’t want her sexually, therefore seeing her half-naked was more of a discomfort than anything else.
And with Logan pacing, it was time for a change of subject, and fast.
“This wasn’t a random robbery or spontaneous crime. We were targeted because of the tattoo murder investigation. Someone overheard us, or knows we’re on to them, and now we’re a liability. Someone called the goons to get rid of us. And that same someone has the entire area locked down. No one is going to talk. That makes this whole operation bigger than we suspected.”
Logan did some more pacing. “Murdering a lieutenant and a detective draws an awful lot of notice if their goal was only to protect their enterprise.”
“But if they’ve murdered before...” Rowdy shrugged. “What do they have to lose?”
“Nothing,” Reese agreed. “And that’s why I want you to skip the meeting with DeeDee.”
“Nope.” Casual as you please, Rowdy refused him.
Stubborn, careless, macho...Reese worked his jaw. “Then Logan and I will go along to ensure you have some backup.”
“They know you,” Rowdy said about Reese. “If they’re onto us, then we have to assume they also know you’re a cop. You’re out.” He tipped his head toward Logan. “And he’s lame.”
Logan stiffened. “Lame?”
“You know what I mean.” Rowdy indicated his arm. “Still handicapped.”
Logan’s quiet tone sounded more menacing than a shout. “The hell I am.”
Undisturbed by his temper, Rowdy glanced at his watch. “I should be taking off right now. I want to go home and shower first.”
Reese blocked his way. “It’s too dangerous. You just said it yourself, they’re onto you.”
“Yeah, but that’s the thing, right? I already know it.” Rowdy showed little care. “They won’t be taking me by surprise, no matter what they pull.”
Losing his patience, Reese barked, “You could damn well be shot walking into the bar.”
And suddenly, Pepper was there, her face a study in alarm. Alice fretted behind her.
Pepper looked at Logan. “Who’s going to shoot at Rowdy?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ROWDY GAVE REESE a thanks a lot glare. “The boys in blue are just being dramatic.”
“Actually,” Reese said, “Rowdy is being pigheaded.”
Pepper looked ready to assault him for the insult, but Logan saved him by pulling her to his side.
“Reese is right.” He kept her close as he explained the plans for the night, and the risk involved. “DeeDee—if that’s her real name—is just a lure to get Rowdy to the designated spot.”
“He can’t do it,” Pepper agreed, her voice firm. And then, directly to Rowdy, “You can’t do it.”
“You don’t have to worry, kiddo.” Rowdy moved Cash aside and pushed to his feet. “I’ll be fine. You know I can take care of myself.”
Pepper back-stepped away before Rowdy could touch her. “No.”
“And,” Rowdy added with emphasis, “it might be our best bet for finding the bastards who are tattooing girls, and maybe even murdering them.”
“No.”
He frowned. “I’m doing it.” And then to Logan, “Take care of her, will you?”
Logan held up both hands. “If you’re asking me to reassure her that you won’t be hurt, then sorry, no can do.”
Biting her bottom lip, Alice stepped into the fray before brother and sister started in on real bickering. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.”
“Not even close,” Rowdy said.
But Alice wasn’t listening. “If I hadn’t gotten involved—”
“Then no one would yet realize that those women need help.” Reese held out a hand, and Alice took it. And even that, such a simple connection, meant so much. He pulled her closer and addressed Rowdy. “Logan and I will go with you. No argument. Even if he’s not one-hundred percent yet, Logan is one hell of an asset.”
“Thanks,” Logan said, deadpan.
“And he knows how to blend in.”
Pepper scowled. “Yeah, he does.”
Reese continued, thinking out loud. “I can probably find a corner of the bar dark enough to hide me.”
“Right,” Rowdy scoffed. “Paint you green and you could be the freakin’ Hulk. Hiding a guy your size isn’t possible.”
“Okay, fine. So maybe there’s a back room, or someplace in the kitchen where I could keep watch.”
In tacit agreement, Rowdy mulled over the particulars. “The kitchen is out,” he said. “That’d leave you exposed, and the bar is overrun with corruption, so it’s anyone’s guess who’s involved.”
“And who might turn you out,” Logan added.
“But Avery can stash you in the pantry. Hid there once myself, and it works fine.”
Pepper tucked in her chin. “Avery?”
“She’s a waitress at a bar I bought.” Rowdy shook that off as insignificant—but no one was buying it, least of all his sister.
Jaw now loose, Pepper took a menacing step toward Rowdy. “You bought a bar?”
That soft, accusing voice made his brows come down. “I was going to tell you,” Rowdy said defensively. “But today got a little busy, you know.”