Extra Dirty

by Mia Gold

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  It had been a long night, and it still wasn’t over.

  Ruby was back in Detective Anderson’s office in the central police station. She seemed to be getting to be as much of a regular there as Reece or the Ufologist were at The Pirate’s Cove.

  And just like they had their usual places and their usual drinks, Ruby was sitting as usual in front of Detective Anderson’s desk on that uncomfortable metal chair. Detective Anderson sat at his desk flipping through reports, and Detective Pinder loomed behind her.

  Ruby rubbed her eyes, utterly exhausted. She had hoped that busting this case open might save her from the host of charges against her, but now that seemed a distant dream. She was going to jail for sure.

  In a way, she felt sort of relieved. She could handle herself in prison. Bust a few heads in her first week and word would get around. She’d be left alone.

  The regular world was where she got in real trouble.

  She watched Detective Anderson, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “My, my, my,” Detective Anderson muttered as he examined the paperwork. He shook his head, sighed, and closed the folder. He sat back, folded his muscular arms over his paunch and smiled. “You are endlessly entertaining.”

  “Happy to be of service.”

  “Mrs. Pierce identified the two ladies you collared as the thieves and they have already confessed. Well, sort of. They’re blaming each other.”

  “Hardly surprising. Did they name Carlos as the killer?”

  “No, but we have his own statement, thanks to you. Everyone in the room must have heard it. If we can get just one of them to break, we’ll have him.

  “Work on the bartender. He’s young and weak.”

  “He’s already been most helpful. I think once they see Carlos is going to jail for a host of offenses the two, um, ladies will come clean. What was surprising was that Mrs. Pierce complained bitterly about being woken in the middle of the night to come down to the police station.”

  “You don’t know her like I do.”

  “I’m glad. We’re in the process of interrogating the other men and women we arrested at the Moonlight Lounge. Everyone clammed up except the bartender, who asked for a lawyer and then sang like the proverbial canary.”

  “Smart guy.”

  “Indeed. We also took your advice and searched the house of Carlos Cazador.”

  Detective Anderson looked down, his arrogant demeanor weakening. Ruby felt bad for him. She did not want to see what he must have seen.

  “And?”

  She couldn’t help but ask.

  “His boast of having a … collection turned out to be true.”

  Ruby slumped. It didn’t matter how much those women had lied and cheated and stole, they didn’t deserve that. She wondered if any of them had even survived.

  Detective Anderson shook himself a little, seemed to get a hold of his emotions, and fixed her with a sharp eye.

  “A couple of Señor Cazador’s men said that you had help.”

  “I didn’t have help.”

  “You beat thirteen men all by yourself?” Detective Anderson sounded incredulous.

  “Why not?”

  The detective’s eyes ran up and down her body. “Well, you are dressed to kill.”

  “Har har.”

  “I don’t believe it for a minute,” Detective Pinder said from behind her.

  “Neither do I,” Detective Anderson said before Ruby could think of a comeback. “Thirteen men all by yourself? You’re a tough cookie, but not that tough. But it doesn’t really matter. The important thing is that we’ll get enough testimony to put them all away for a long, long time. Several of the girls already look ready to break. Terrified, the poor little things. And the bartender is a great help. Glad he saw reason.”

  “Perhaps someone had a little chat with him,” Ruby suggested.

  Detective Anderson chuckled and winked. “Perhaps.”

  A silence fell on the room, punctuated only by Detective Pinder’s heavy breathing. Ruby resisted the urge to look over her shoulder.

  Ruby wondered why the detectives hadn’t brought up the matter of the shooting in front of John’s house. Perhaps the witnesses had gotten her description muddled. Or maybe so much had happened that night that the detectives hadn’t had time to speak with the officers who responded to the call.

  But they would sooner or later, and she’d have a lot to answer for.

  Detective Anderson went back to flipping through his files.

  “It looks like this matter will soon be cleared up. Thank you for your statement. You’ll have to appear in court, of course.” Ruby shifted in uncomfortably in her seat. That could bring up some awkward questions. “And there’s the matter of the numerous charges against you.”

  Here we go.

  Behind her, Detective Pinder took in sharp breath and rubbed her hands together.

  Ruby turned and glared at her and that smug grin she had on her face.

  “Are you going to orgasm?” Ruby asked.

  “You filthy little—”

  Detective Anderson cleared his throat. Ruby turned back to him, resigned to her fate.

  “I’m going to drop all charges,” he said.

  “What?” Ruby and Detective Pinder said at the same time.

  “You’ve performed a great—”

  “You can’t do that!” Detective Pinder shouted loud enough to make Ruby’s ears ring.

  The homicide chief silenced her with a look before turning back to Ruby.

  “You’ve performed a great service in solving the case and bringing an entire prostitution ring to justice. It seems the least we can do, considering that these crimes were committed in the pursuit of your investigation.”

  “Unauthorized investigation,” Detective Pinder chipped in.

  Her boss raised a hand. “I’m getting to that. As I was saying, you did this in order to solve a serious crime, and in doing so, you solved several more crimes. It would hardly be sporting to charge you. Besides, we need you to have a clean record when you testify in court, otherwise it might undercut your credibility as a witness.”

  Detective Pinder snorted.

  Ignoring his subordinate, Detective Anderson said, “But as much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we can’t have you running around the Bahamas breaking into crime scenes and beating people up. You get off this time because you were so helpful, and we’ll overlook the last time too. But if we catch you playing detective one more time, you will be in serious trouble.”

  “I can’t imagine someone will ask me to help with a murder investigation a third time. What are the chances?”

  Now it was Detective Anderson’s turn to snort.

  “With a normal person? One in ten million. I put your odds at about fifty-fifty.”

  “I don’t want to go through all this again, believe me.”

  Detective Anderson cocked his head. “You know what? I don’t believe you. Not one little bit. I think you kind of like it. Now run along, little girl. It’s past your bedtime.”

  Ruby rose to leave, allowing herself a smug glance in Detective Pinder’s direction. The detective’s eyes shot daggers back at her. Ruby smiled and headed for the door.

  “Oh, and Ms. Steele?” Detective Anderson said.

  Ruby turned back to face him.

  “I like the dress,” he said, an uncertain smile playing across his lips. “You should dress like a lady more often. You might find it suits you. Simplifies your life.”

  Ruby rolled her eyes and managed to leave without saying something that would make him reinstate the charges.

  She managed to make it to the parking lot before Detective Pinder caught up with her.

  “My car is leaking oil. You going to give me a fine for polluting the environment?” Ruby grumbled.

  “No, I’m going to do a bit of digging.”

  Ruby stopped, her relief for a few minutes before turning to wariness.

&n
bsp; “Digging?”

  “Into your past,” Detective Pinder said, studying her with a hateful expression. “You don’t add up. A nobody loser drinking too much and working at a dive bar, and yet you fight like someone from a Kung-Fu movie and get targeted by a professional assassin. There’s a lot more to you than you’re telling, and I’m going to find out about it. All of it.”

  Ruby tried to keep her gaze and keep cool.

  “And then what?” Ruby asked.

  “Then I’m going to expose you,” Detective Pinder said. “I’m going to show everyone who you really are.”

  That might prove just as fatal for you as it would for me.

  But Ruby didn’t say that, for to say that would reveal too much.

  So she didn’t say anything, retreating into the silence that had protected her in her self-imposed exile for a year.

  A silence that did not offer as much protection as it had before.

  Turning away, she got in her car and pulled away. Detective Pinder watched her go.

  * * *

  Ruby, Neville, and Kristiano sat at a table in the mostly darkened interior of The Pirate’s Cove. It was the wee hours of the morning and Ruby felt exhausted, but all three of them were too wired from the night’s events to sleep.

  Neville plunked a bottle of Bahamian Gold on the table.

  “A celebration for the boarding party! We showed those scurvy dogs that we be men and women of mettle.”

  Ruby gazed at the bottle for a second, her mouth beginning to water. Then she got up, went behind the bar, and poured herself a large orange juice. Neville and Kristiano stared at her but said nothing.

  “So, you two all right?” she asked.

  “Fit enough to sail around Cape Horn and plunder a dozen galleons!” Neville shouted, waving his cutlass over his head.

  “Where did you get that thing?” Ruby asked.

  “I won it from a sailor I bested in single combat on a reef off the shore of Bermuda.”

  “No, really.”

  “eBay,” Neville said with a shrug.

  “How are you?” Ruby asked Kristiano. He was holding an ice pack up to his face.

  “Tenderized, but I’ll be OK,” he said, and flashed her with his winning grin. There was blood in mouth and one of his lips was split open, but somehow it didn’t mar his lovely smile.

  “Thank you so much for coming to help. I got in over my head.” Ruby thought of what they had intended on doing to her and shuddered.

  “Anything for a shipmate!” Neville said, holding up his glass of rum. “Cheers!”

  They clinked glasses. “Cheers!”

  Ruby suddenly remembered some unfinished business.

  She turned to Neville. “Can I check something on the office computer?”

  “The ship’s logs are always open to ye.”

  Ruby hurried to the back office and checked for that video on YouTube. To her deep relief, it was gone. She checked around with similar search terms and couldn’t find it. YouTube had removed it before anyone had a chance to copy it and put it up.

  She hoped.

  Of course, YouTube wasn’t the only video sharing site on the Internet. She Googled the title, to find only a broken link to the original YouTube post. She checked variants of the title on a couple of sites that specialized in street fights. Nothing.

  Then she started looking on Vimeo, Facebook, even Tik Tok.

  After a while, she forced herself to stop.

  You have to assume it’s gone. You can’t keep on looking forever. You’re already searching for passwords. One endless task at a time, or you’ll go crazy.

  Reluctantly, Ruby got up from the computer and rejoined her friends.

  They looked up as she entered the room.

  “Is everything all right?” Kristiano asked.

  “Yeah,” she said sitting down and taking a long drink from her glass of orange juice. Then she put her arms around both her friends. “Yeah, actually it is for the moment.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  The next morning, Ruby woke up late. All her muscles hurt from the exertion of the night before, and bruises covered every place on her body that she had gotten hit or had used for hitting—her elbows, forearms, shins, stomach. Her side was swollen over her injured ribs, making any deep breath feel like a stiletto being slid into her gut.

  And yet she felt strangely buoyant. Alive. For several minutes she lay in bed, wondering about this feeling, and then realized she had felt it several times before.

  She felt it any morning she woke up without a hangover.

  Every night she didn’t get hammered felt like a little victory. Her self-imposed exile had been a year-long nightly ritual of inebriation.

  No more.

  At least I hope no more.

  The previous night at The Pirate’s Cove gave her some extra hope. She’d been in pain and burnt out from stress. Anyone could have been forgiven for taking a drink at her and her friends’ little victory party.

  But she hadn’t. And she wouldn’t, as long as she kept on her guard against the easy little slipups her life had accustomed her to.

  Hopefully.

  She got up, skipping her usual morning workout. She was still too tired, too beat up, and she had one last important task to perform.

  It was going to be a fun one.

  She needed to return that heap of a rental car to Helen Pierce.

  Ruby decided not to call ahead. Helen deserved a big surprise.

  The car started with a nasty grating sound. As she pulled out, she noticed a big puddle of oil on the road. Ruby hoped Mrs. Strapp wasn’t an environmentalist.

  The grating continued as she drove across town. She drowned it out by whistling a happy tune. While she didn’t really have a whole lot of reason to be happy—her entire body was in pain, the Saudis might call her bluff and come after her again, and she had tried more than three hundred passwords on that damn thumb drive with no success—she felt like she had won. She had solved a case and gotten justice for Bridget Hansen. She’d put a lot of bad people in jail too, and that had earned her the grudging respect of Nassau’s homicide squad (at least part of it) and got her off a whole heap of charges. Plus, winning a big fight always gave her a week-long adrenaline boost.

  She kept whistling as smoke started issuing from under the hood.

  The whistling cut off as her phone rang. She checked it and saw it was an unidentified number. Ruby tensed and her heart beat a little faster. In normal life, unidentified calls meant phone sales, annoying but not life threatening. But she didn’t have a normal life. Squaring her shoulders, she answered.

  A familiar baritone came over the line. “Ruby! How’s my favorite new fighter doing today?”

  Ruby’s heart sank. The King.

  “Um, hi.”

  “How are the ribs?”

  “Three are broken.” Two fractured, actually. “I’m in a lot of pain when I move.”

  “Is that a fact? That’s too bad. When do you think you’ll be fighting fit?”

  Her phone beeped, telling her another number was trying to call. She ignored it.

  “Not sure. A while, though. And since I can’t work out, I’m not in the best of shape. I’ll need to start training again.”

  Ruby couldn’t get up the nerve to say no to him. That word did not enter The King’s vocabulary.

  “Three weeks should be enough,” The King replied in a voice that brooked no opposition. “I’ve got you paired up with a fine fighter. Male, unfortunately. I’d love to get an all-girl fight. Know anyone?”

  “Uh, no.”

  Her phone beeped again. Too bad she couldn’t divert the caller to The King. Let whoever it was deal with this thug. She didn’t have the energy today. Or any day.

  “Too bad. This man is called the Howler, because he’s got a crazy war cry he does when he gets in the ring. The fans love it. That’s all for show and I doubt it will intimidate someone like you. His skills match his shout, though. Long reach. Go
od speed. Nice power.”

  Doesn’t take any power to kill me if he makes a head shot.

  “Um, I don’t think my ribs—”

  “Your manager told me his idea about doing a charity event.”

  Oh, God.

  “Look, I—”

  “The King giveth and The King taketh away. A charity is an excellent way to build goodwill in my new territories. So nice of you to help the kids. And don’t worry, they are under The King’s protection. Nothing will happen to them. As long as you are my fighter, they are the safest children in all of Nassau. That’s a promise.”

  And a threat.

  “Sounds … great.”

  “So three weeks from today then. At 11:30 PM. I apologize for giving you one of the opening slots. While you deserve much more, you are still relatively unknown. After that first fight, though, people got curious. You made such an impression. I am quite sure you will make a doubly good impression this time.”

  “I think three weeks is too soon. I—”

  The King let out a low chuckle. “Enjoy yourself and get fit. The Howler is a good match for you, and you’ll need to be at your best. Good day.”

  He hung up, leaving Ruby wondering how the hell she was going to get out of this one.

  “Three weeks,” Ruby muttered, hanging up. “I have three weeks to think up a way to fix this. But how?”

  You’ve done more in less time, he father’s voice said inside her head.

  Ruby’s eyes filled with tears. “Wish you were here, Dad.”

  Team Wayne!

  She checked on the other call. Tim.

  Her heart raced even faster. She called him. An international call would suck up most of her credit, but she sensed needed to talk to him right away.

  He picked up on the first ring.

  “I saw you got the video removed,” he said without preamble. His voice sounded on edge.

  “Yeah, and not a moment too soon,” she said, having to raise her voice over the grating of the engine. The whole car had started to shake and she had to keep a tight grip on the wheel. She noticed one of her bloody fingerprints from the night before.

  “Actually, it was too late,” Tim said. “Remember Agent Barrett?”