by Radclyffe
“She’s in charge of all these girls, and I think there’s a lot more to it than just what tricks they might turn.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“I think I know how it all ties together.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sunday – Dawn
“Sandy, honey,” Mitch whispered, sliding under the thin blanket and curving an arm around his sleeping girlfriend’s waist as he settled behind her in bed. He was still dressed, having kicked off his boots and shed his motorcycle jacket at the door. She just looked so soft and warm, her arms curled around the pillow, her face so innocent, that he couldn’t resist holding her for a second. “Gotta wake up, San.”
“Mmm,” Sandy sighed, scooting her butt back into the curve of Mitch’s groin.
“Honey, there’s going to be a meeting at seven. Wake up, honey.” Mitch nuzzled the back of her neck and kissed the smooth skin along the angle of her shoulder. She smelled of sleep and cinnamon, a distinctly Sandy smell that always turned him on. Without even thinking, he slipped his hand beneath the camisole she’d worn to bed and fingered the silver stud in her navel, twisting and tugging it lightly.
This time, Sandy’s sigh ended on a moan.
Mitch abandoned her belly for her breast, fondling her softly. He felt her breathing escalate and knew she was awakening. “Hi, honey.”
“Hi, baby.” Sandy reached behind her and wrapped an arm around Mitch’s hips, pulling him closer as she backed harder against his body.
The sudden pressure against the hardness in his jeans made Mitch’s head light.
“Oh man, you feel so good,” Mitch muttered, his voice as thick and tight as the growing weight in his belly. He’d been a little bit hard, a little bit wet, all night. He’d kept the lid firmly on his arousal, even when Irina had played with him, but he had no defenses against Sandy. Any time she looked at him, any time she touched him, he was gone. He smoothed his hand down her belly and beneath the flimsy material between her thighs, cupping her sex as he rubbed his cock against her slowly undulating ass.
“You need something, baby?” Sandy whispered, her voice sounding as urgent as Mitch’s.
“Oh yeah.” She was wet beneath his fingertips, and he slicked her arousal back and forth over her clitoris, the stroke of his hand matching the slow thrust of his hips. He wasn’t going to be able to take too much more of the constant friction on the screaming nerve endings between his thighs. His stomach was so tight it threatened to cramp, and his legs trembled as the muscles twitched and spasmed. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face against Sandy’s hair, his mouth hot against her ear. “I wanna come so bad.”
“Mmm, I know you do,” Sandy panted, writhing in his arms as he worked her faster. “Stop that, baby. You’ll make me come.” She covered his hand, pressing his palm onto her clitoris and his fingertips just inside her. Holding him there, she ordered breathlessly, “Take your cock out, baby. Let me feel it between my legs.”
Mitch ripped at his jeans with his free hand, the blood roaring through his head, his nerve endings on fire. He dragged the cock out of his pants, catching the length of it in his fly, jerking it free. Groaning desperately as the manipulation threatened to send him over the edge. He’d never felt anything like it in his life. “Fuck, I think I’m gonna come.”
Sandy laughed wildly, rocking on his palm. “Just take a breath. Just hold on, baby. It gets better.”
“Trying,” Mitch nearly whimpered. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder and concentrated on his breathing and not on that terrible sweet ache between his thighs.
“You okay, baby?” Sandy stroked his arm as it lay across her belly.
“Better. Yeah, I’m okay. Okay.”
She turned partway away, drawing one leg up to open herself. “Let me feel you, Dell.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Mitchell confessed, quivering against Sandy’s back. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“Just ease it between my legs,” Sandy murmured. “You won’t hurt me. I want you, Dell.”
Mitchell fisted her cock and eased the head along the cleft between Sandy’s thighs. Suddenly, everything was about Sandy, and the urgency in Mitchell’s depths subsided even as excitement pierced her core like the shaft of an arrow. She felt Sandy reach beneath her body and back between her thighs, guiding Mitchell’s cock against her clitoris.
“Oh yeah,” Sandy crooned. “Just right there, Dell. Just rock it there, baby.”
“Turn all the way over,” Mitchell said hoarsely. As Sandy complied, she got onto her knees behind her and guided Sandy’s hips back against her crotch, her cock coming to rest once more between Sandy’s thighs. “Is it good? Can you feel me?”
Sandy clutched the sheets and pushed her hips back and forth along the length of Mitchell’s cock. “I’m so wet. Oh, baby, you feel so good.”
Mitchell held Sandy’s hips to steady her while Sandy rode her cock, knowing that Sandy was rubbing her clitoris against the firm head at the end of each stroke.
Feeling Sandy tremble, hearing her soft moans, all the while looking down to see the length of her cock moving in and out between Sandy’s thighs, Mitchell sensed her own orgasm rebuilding. Groaning, she picked up speed, unable to stop the escalating tendrils of release slipping down her thighs. “Sandy, honey, I’m not gonna last.”
Breathless, Sandy pulled away and turned onto her back. Her face was flushed, her belly heaving. “Do you boys carry safes?”
“Oh Jesus,” Mitchell groaned, stricken. She was so close to exploding, she could hardly think. “Do I need one?”
“No, but you might like it.” Sandy laughed and reached for the bedside dresser, fumbled inside, and came up with a foil package. Rising on her knees, she extracted the condom. “Hold still.”
Through hazy eyes, Mitchell watched her roll the thin latex over the head of her cock. Sandy’s hand curled around the shaft while she guided the condom, the faint motion rocking the base dangerously over her clitoris. “Sandy. Sandy…be careful…I’m really close to losing it.”
Sandy glanced up, her expression hungry. “You’d better wait to come inside of me.”
Then there was no thought, no worry, no uncertainty, because with one arm around Mitchell’s waist and the other hand on her cock, Sandy guided her down and inside of her. Sandy cried out and Mitchell followed with a hoarse shout, and then they were rising and falling, entering and receiving, giving and taking—hands clasped, fingers entwined, eyes locked.
“Hold on, hold on…” Sandy urged, her hips pistoning, taking Mitchell deeper with each stroke. “Almost, baby, almost. Oh, there I’m there…”
“You’re making me come,” Mitchell cried, and then there was no holding back. Her clitoris burst against the base of the cock at the same instant as Sandy arched her back and screamed with the first pulse of release.
Mitchell managed to keep most of her weight off Sandy as she collapsed with the force of her orgasm, curled over Sandy’s body, shuddering. Sandy’s fingers dug into her buttocks, holding her inside as she too shivered with aftershocks.
“Just stay there, baby,” Sandy gasped when Mitchell started to withdraw. “Just stay still.”
Regaining some of her strength, Mitchell braced herself with her elbows on either side of Sandy’s slender chest and lowered her face to Sandy’s breast, finding the nipple beneath the thin silk with her mouth. She could feel Sandy slowly circling her hips beneath her, stimulating herself on Mitchell’s cock.
“Is it good?” Mitchell whispered.
“Such a guy.” Sandy laughed shakily, running one hand up Mitchell’s back into her hair. She was breathless, trembling again. She whimpered softly. “I’m gonna come again, baby.”
That did it. Groaning, Mitchell pumped once and came. When she next opened her eyes, she was lying on her side with Sandy facing her, her features soft with satisfaction.
“I think having that cock makes me as useless as a guy,” Mitchell muttered. “I fell asl
eep, didn’t I?” Her eyes widened and she stiffened. “Oh fuck, the meeting—”
“It’s okay, baby,” Sandy said immediately. “You’ve only been out a couple of minutes. And you’ve only been home about fifteen.”
“Jeez, I didn’t mean to climb all over you like that when you were still asleep.”
“Didn’t you?” Sandy stroked her face. “I’ve been wondering when you were gonna do something with all that action in your pants.”
Mitchell grinned. “Did you like?”
Sandy lifted a shoulder. “Not bad, rookie. Not bad at all.”
“Did you like it better than when I—”
Sandy stopped Mitchell’s words with her mouth, sliding her tongue inside, kissing her deeply. Then she drew back and scraped her fingernails lightly down the center of Mitchell’s stomach until she reached the cock, still in the harness inside Mitchell’s jeans, which were halfway down her hips. She gave it a gentle shake.
“I like it. I liked feeling you inside me that way when I came.” She slipped her hand beneath the leather, against Mitchell’s still-swollen flesh, and squeezed. “But this, I love.”
Mitchell thought her eyes were going to roll back into her skull. Her clitoris sprang to attention, and every nerve ending from her toes to the top of her head vibrated. “You gotta stop. I’m so wasted already, and we have to get to Sloan’s.”
“What’s happening?” Sandy asked as she carefully withdrew her hand and worked the straps free of the buckles holding the harness.
“I think I might have figured something out,” Mitchell answered as she lifted her hips and helped Sandy remove her pants and gear. “We should shower and get dressed.”
“Why do you need me?”
“We have to go through the videos, and you know the regular girls.”
“Hours of looking at fat guys getting blow jobs?” Sandy gave a look of distaste. “Great.”
Mitchell shook her head. “I don’t think it will take that long. If I’m right, we’ll only need to look at a dozen or so.”
“You picked up on something at Ziggie’s, didn’t you?”
“Maybe. I hope so, because that’s what I told the lieutenant. That’s why she called the meeting.”
“Let’s get ready, then, and get this meeting over with.” Sandy swung a leg over Dell’s body and shifted on top of her. “Because I think I want to spend the rest of the day right here.”
Mitchell sat up and wrapped her arms around Sandy’s body, answering her with a kiss. Even as she held her, she had the feeling they wouldn’t be coming back for a lot longer than either of them would like.
*
“This better be good, kid,” Watts grunted, cradling a coffee mug in his huge hands. “I’ve been up all night, sitting in a bucket seat too small for a midget, freezing my balls off. And the Loo wouldn’t let me smoke.”
“Leave her alone,” Sandy said sharply on her way to the small refrigerator tucked under the counter. She pulled out a Black & Tan when she noticed Mitchell’s look of surprise. “What? This is dinnertime for me.”
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Watts asked.
“Maybe I’d like to be doing something else right now too,” Sandy grumped and put the beer back, exchanging it for a soda.
Watts looked from Sandy to Mitchell, who blushed furiously, and slowly grinned. “Well ain’t you the lucky one.”
Mitchell shoved her hands into her jeans. “Yeah.”
Watts clapped Mitchell on a shoulder. “You break this case, kid, and that gold shield of yours is really gonna shine.”
Before Mitchell could protest that she didn’t expect to break the case, Rebecca walked in with Sloan and Jason. Immediately, everyone sobered up and hurriedly took their usual places at the conference table.
“Okay, Mitchell,” Rebecca said. “Let’s hear it.”
“I think Jason and Sandy should go through the porn downloads and chart the dates when the girls that Sandy knows were doing the shoots.”
Rebecca frowned. “That’s on the agenda. We’ll be doing that over the next couple of days. We’ve got months’ worth of videos to screen.”
Mitchell shook her head. “No. I think we can narrow it down to a couple of days.”
Everyone’s attention was riveted on her, and Mitchell felt a trickle of sweat between her shoulder blades. If she was wrong, she’d look like an idiot. Worse, she’d disappoint Rebecca Frye, which was the last thing she ever wanted to do. After Sandy, there was no one whose opinion of her mattered more. She kept her hands on her thighs under the table so that nobody could see them shaking. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Sandy’s smile. And more important than her smile was the encouragement and faith in her eyes.
“I think we should look at the videos that were shot right around the time those ships came in—the ones that Jimmy Hogan was checking out with Port Authority.”
There was a moment of silence, and then everyone began to speak at once.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sunday – Midmorning
“Wait a minute—”
“Why do you think—”
“Who would’ve—”
“How do—”
“All right—keep it down.” Rebecca’s voice rang out. As the din subsided, she motioned to Mitchell. “Go ahead. Lay it out for us, Detective.”
Mitchell cleared her throat. “Okay, I need to start at the beginning—at least I think it’s the beginning.”
“Take your time, kid,” Watts said in a surprisingly quiet tone. “We ain’t in a hurry. My buns are just getting warm anyhow.”
“I think it all starts with Clark,” Mitchell said.
Sloan snarled an oath.
“What I mean,” Mitchell clarified, “is I think it starts with Justice and Jimmy Hogan. The feds were interested enough in something going on in this city to put a federal agent undercover.” She looked toward Rebecca, who gave her a barely perceptible nod. “I don’t think that an Internet pornography ring or garden-variety prostitution is really big enough to register on Justice’s radar. Sure, they’ve got people working on those kinds of investigations, but usually they leave them to the locals. And they sure don’t spare undercover agents. So I’m thinking something bigger than the usual Mob activity.”
“The feds have run some pretty big pornography stings,” Sloan pointed out. “I hate to say it, but Clark’s being here could have just been part of a broader interstate operation, especially considering the Internet angle. Just like he said.”
“True,” Rebecca interjected, “but it doesn’t really explain why Jimmy Hogan was undercover. Clark was up-front with us—well, as up-front as the feds ever are—about his interest in the pornography operation. He wouldn’t have needed someone undercover if he were going to investigate it through channels.” Rebecca turned her attention back to Mitchell. “Keep talking—give us your theory.”
“With Jimmy undercover as an undercover narco detective, Jimmy—and by extension Clark—had access to any files that came through the police department. He could keep an eye out for the kind of activity he was really interested in. At the same time, he was assigned to do exactly what he came here to do, which was infiltrate the underworld organization. He was working all the angles and probably passing everything right back to Clark.”
The others at the table nodded and made sounds of agreement.
“Where does Jeff fit in?” Rebecca asked solemnly.
“I think while Jimmy was investigating his real interest, occasionally he’d come across illegal activity that he didn’t have time to do anything about, so he’d tip off you and Cruz.” Mitchell shrugged. “He was a cop, after all.”
“Like the kiddie prostitution circuit he clued us into last year,” Rebecca said. “Okay. So far, so good. And then, he got close to what he was really after, and someone found out.” Her face went hard, her voice cold. “And took out him and Jeff, who probably just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Mitchell nodded. “Yes, ma’am. That’s what I think happened.”
Watts shifted in his seat. “Okay. Time to end the suspense, kid. What the hell was Hogan interested in?”
“Smuggling.”
Watts looked blank.
“That’s usually a U.S. Customs gig,” Jason observed neutrally. “Not Justice.”
“I know,” Mitchell said emphatically, “and that’s why I didn’t think of it at first. Why none of us thought of it.”
“You think Hogan got wind of something they were bringing in on those ships—the ones he had Carla looking into, right?” Watts leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the tabletop, his eyes narrowed and intent. “That’s why he was trying to track the cargo.”
“Yeah, I think he was trying to get a line on who picked up the cargo and where it was going.”
“I’ve been over those cargo manifests, kid,” Watts said, shaking his head. “I didn’t see any similarities between the stuff those ships were bringing in. Usually, if you’re smuggling something, you use the same carrier vehicle each time. Bags of cocaine stuffed inside coffee barrels, diamonds packed inside fake objects of art, heroin sewn into the lining of clothes from Asia. There was nothing like that. I looked.”
Mitchell shook her head. “All the ships originated from ports in the same region of the world, right?”
“Yeah, but that could just be a coincidence.”
“I don’t think so. They came from the same region because they were carrying the same smuggled cargo.”
“What?” Watts asked impatiently.
“The girls. The ships were bringing in the girls.”
There were a few seconds of silence, and then Watts muttered, “Shit.”
“What’s the common denominator between the sex videos, the clubs, the prostitution…all of it,” Rebecca said. “The girls. None of it works without them.”
“And,” Sloan mused, “if those girls are your business, think how good it would be to have an inside person at the DA’s office. Someone who would hear about any local investigation that started getting close. Beecher.”