Bruno Lopez was the older brother of Damon Lopez, who had kidnapped Lucas's now-wife Scarlett and her little sister Emery. Lucas had shot and killed him after Damon had put a bullet in Scarlett's chest. Fortunately, Scarlett had survived, thanks to Lucas.
Now, it seemed that Bruno wanted revenge. Just last week, Gabriel's informant in D-town had told him of a rumor about a hit that had been put out on Lucas and the team. But they'd yet to verify that.
"Where are we on the escort service and our missing girl?" Sully looked directly at Gabriel as he asked the question.
"I've interviewed six different escorts," he began. Coughing and throat clearing sounded around the table.
"Shut the hell up, would you?" Gabriel knew he had a reputation. He'd earned that reputation for the most part. But no one understood that each woman he slept with was a distraction from thinking about her.
"As I was saying, I've talked to them, but no one has heard of her. I can only assume that she's not one of the regulars that are listed on the website. This begs the question, if she's not working as an escort, what is she doing?"
Two and a half weeks ago, Amanda Morgan had left her home to meet a couple of guys her sister had seen her with several days prior. After a fight with her mom, she'd placed a call to one of the boys and left the house. The security camera at the front door showed footage of her leaving and getting into a car, but they could only get a partial plate on it. The police had traced the call she'd made and searched the guy’s house. She wasn't there.
Technically, Amanda wasn't a minor. At eighteen, she was legally an adult, but she had just started her last year in high school. She'd started kindergarten late, at six, and was older than most people in her class. The guys she'd been seen with had some gang connections, so the team was worried that she'd been forced into the sex industry, a common occurrence for girls who ran away from home seeking relief from an argument or fight with their parents.
Amanda's mom was a single mother working two jobs. Both girls had had some issues in the past, but were fairly good kids. A little partying and such, but no drug use or history of hanging out with the wrong crowds.
It had been almost three weeks, though, since she'd been seen, and Gabriel was certain foul play was at hand. He had reached out to one of his contacts that was part of a rival gang, and had heard rumors about the escort service and its involvement in the sex industry. So now he was undercover, trying to see if any of the escorts knew anything about what might be going on behind closed doors. So far, none of the girls had known anything or been willing to share.
"What are you thinking, Gabriel?" Isabel asked.
"I’m thinking there's something else going on with this escort service. My gut tells me there are far more nefarious things taking place behind closed doors. If we find out what else is going on, then I think we find Amanda."
"What's your plan?" Sully asked, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair.
"I have a date tomorrow night with a new girl. She's not even listed yet on the website. I'm hoping that I can get her to help me figure out what’s going on. Since she's new, maybe she won't have any loyalty to the agency like the other girls have. I think they've realized that squealing on their meal ticket might be bad for their pockets."
"That's definitely true," Lucas said. "With what happened to Emery and Scarlett, do you think it's trafficking-related?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe. Mrs. Morgan did say that Amanda had been seen talking with some guys from a local gang. My contact has confirmed that there are some connections to that gang and trafficking," Gabriel replied.
"Keep us posted on what you find. And take the day off today and get some rest. You look like hell," Sully said, his eyes glimmering with amusement.
He was a hard-ass for sure, but he took care of his team. Gabriel zoned out as Sully went over the details for the other missing person case with Ethan. His thoughts raced back to the dreams he'd had this morning. Dreams of a woman with long black hair and a tiny waist. Dreams of the only woman he'd thought he might love.
Chapter 4
Cate arrived early at the coffeehouse to meet Andrew Haney, Senator from Alabama. It was located a few blocks from the Capitol in a hip part of town. She figured there weren't many senators and politicians that came this way. The crowd seemed more like young professionals, artists, and college students than stuffed suits.
She'd decided to keep on the black cigarette pants as they fit her curves perfectly. She'd changed her shirt, opting for a sheer black button-down, with her lacy black bra visible underneath. She rounded out the ensemble with lipstick-red stiletto heels. Her long black hair hung loose to her waist. She knew it was her best feature. The little red rose created the perfect accessory.
Christy had sent Cate to the agency's personal shopper. The agency covered the bill for the sexy clothes that Cate would need to wear during her appointments with clients. She would never have chosen the see-through shirt otherwise. But in terms of sexy, it still covered more than some bathing suits.
She took a seat at a table near the window. Christy had not given her pictures of Andrew Haney, instead telling her to wear a red rose in her hair. But Cate had seen his face plastered on every news station and newspaper in the district. He was a prominent member of the elite in Washington, D.C.
A few moments later, Andrew walked into the coffeehouse, scanning the tables for his "date." Cate smiled at him bashfully, and a grin spread across Andrew's handsome face.
Andrew strode over with a confident swagger. He took Cate's hand in his, placing a chaste kiss on top of her knuckles.
"Katelyn, I presume?" he said, his bright blue eyes gazing into hers. She nodded.
"Andrew?" she asked in reply.
"Nice to meet you," he said and took his seat across from her.
Cate tried not to fidget, but her nerves were starting to get the best of her. She put her hands in her lap, out of sight.
"So, Christy tells me you're new to the agency."
"I am. This is my first, um, date." She wasn't sure what to call it, opting for the less offensive term.
"I'm so glad to be your first," he said in reply, the innuendo clear.
She giggled because she figured that was what he expected her to do. He smiled a smile that said he had her right where he wanted her. If he only knew.
"Can I get you a coffee? Or anything?" he asked, standing to walk towards the counter. She started to stand, too, but he put his hand up. "I've got it."
"Ok, sure. I'd love a caramel macchiato, please."
He nodded and walked towards the line. She took the time to look him over. He was a nice-looking man in about his early fifties, fairly young for a senator with as much influence as he had. He had dark hair graying at the temples, and looked as if he spent a lot of time at the gym. All in all, he was a pretty good catch, so why was he using an escort service for dates? And why wasn't he married?
She hadn't had time to google him before their meeting. She planned to do that as soon as she got home. Christy had said that Andrew had paid for two hours of her time. She certainly hoped he wasn't expecting some kind of sexual favor before their time was up.
"One caramel macchiato for the beautiful lady." Andrew placed her drink in front of her and then sat down. They talked quietly about their lives. Cate tried to keep her lies as close to the truth as possible so that she wouldn't slip up. So she told him she was going to nursing school, which was an option she'd considered when she was just starting college. She told him her parents traveled the world and that she didn't get to see them very often, which was also true. She had no siblings, so that was another lie she didn't have to tell.
After what she felt like was a really long time talking about herself, she said, "So, what about you? I seem to talk a lot when I'm nervous. Sorry about that." Yet another lie she didn't have to tell.
"It's cute, actually." He took a sip of his espresso and looked away, as if trying to figure out what he wanted
to tell her. It was a stalling technique she recognized from the countless interviews she'd done in the past.
"I'm also an only child. I was married for twenty years, and my wife passed away from her fight with breast cancer two years ago."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Cate reached over and placed her hand on his. It was a reflex, and she stilled for a moment, not knowing if he would appreciate her forwardness. Apparently, he did, because his mouth quirked up in a smile. A smile that looked more predatory than sweet.
He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across the top in a caress. Cate tried not to squirm.
"I have a daughter. She's just a few years younger than you, in fact." The contents in Cate's stomach rebelled at the thought of his dating and having sex with someone a few years older than his daughter. She swallowed hard to tamp down the nausea. How could he do that? It struck her as sick, even though she was an adult. At almost thirty, she wasn't really all that much younger than he was, but he thought she was twenty-five.
"She's nineteen and is studying at Georgetown University." Inwardly sighing, she was glad that she'd told him she was going to an online college first and then planning to transfer.
"That's great. What is she studying?"
"I didn't come here to talk about my daughter's career ambitions," he said, and Cate was taken aback by the change in his demeanor. He leaned forward, his lips just inches away from hers. She could smell the coffee on his breath, and she was thankful that he didn't have halitosis or something that would make pretending to be intimate with him appalling.
"I came here to talk about you. About what you like to do. And maybe a little about what you're willing to do."
"What"—she cleared her throat—"what do you mean?"
His expression changed, and he tilted his head. He gently brushed the hair back from her face and smiled. This time it was gentle—reassuring.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. I'd like you to meet some of my friends Saturday night. Would you come with me?" he asked, sitting back in his chair.
"I'd love to," she lied. She really hoped she wasn't going to go to hell for all the lies she would have to tell. She justified it by reminding herself that it was all for a good cause.
"Excellent." He gave her the name of the restaurant, and Cate's eyes just about fell out of her head. It was an exclusive place, almost impossible to get reservations at. She guessed this was one of the benefits of dating a senator. "I'll pick you up."
"No! I mean, that's ok. I'll just drive or take the Metro. My, um, roommate might be home, which would make it awkward for you to pick me up." Her roommate was in Italy for several weeks, but he didn't have to know that. There was no way she was going to go to this thing with no means of escape.
He frowned, obviously not liking that she wouldn't allow him to pick her up, but he didn't argue. "Meet me there at six-thirty."
She agreed and stood to leave, grateful their time was up. She turned to get her purse off the back of the chair, and when she stood upright again, he was right there. His hand slipped behind her waist, and he brought her to him.
"I’m going to kiss you now, Katelyn." Although Cate had no interest in kissing a man who was almost as old as her father, she nodded her head anyway.
His lips pressed against hers. They were warm and soft. His breath smelled of coffee and mint. He moved his head, slanting it, so he could get a better angle. Cate obliged him, because what other choice did she have? She didn't really want to make out here, in front of God and everyone else in the coffeehouse, but she wasn't sure what else she could do. So, when his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips, she opened for him, trying to act as if she were enjoying the kiss.
Seconds later, he pulled away. He grinned down at her, wrapping the long length of her hair around his hand. He tugged slightly, jerking her head back and exposing her neck. He glanced down the length of it and licked his lips.
"This is going to be fun," he said. And then he turned and walked out the coffeehouse door.
Cate looked around to see if anyone had been watching. Fortunately, their little display of public affection didn't seem to have fazed those seated at the tables. She walked towards her car, wondering the whole way if she was in over her head.
* * * *
Gabriel took his usual time getting ready for his "date" that evening. Christy had been tight-lipped about who this woman was and what she was like. All she'd said was that she was a brunette with long hair, a smoking body, and charm in spades, and that her name was Katelyn.
Gabriel thought that that was high praise for an escort, but he was just hopeful that she could help him find out about Amanda and where she might be. It was a long shot, but he thought getting someone to help him who had no loyalty to Christy might be his best bet.
After donning a black suit and a blue button-up shirt, left open at the collar, he left the warehouse in his Carlotta. He left the top up this time because, since his hair was longer and wavy, the open air might turn it into a rat's nest. That wouldn't make a great first impression.
He found street parking near Filomena's—a miracle in Georgetown during dinnertime. Carefully parallel parking, he turned off the ignition and sat for just a moment.
Early as usual, he had time to sit with his thoughts before walking inside the restaurant to secure their table. He'd made reservations, and his date wasn't due to arrive for another twenty minutes.
Regardless of what his team thought, Gabriel was beginning to tire of the one-night stands. It was the same scenario repeating itself. The same type of woman. The same song and dance. And he was tired. Tired of the fake smiles and forced platitudes. He was tired of hearing the same spiel. He knew what he looked like. He did own a mirror, after all, and with his ice-blue eyes, tan skin, and tousled hair, he was a walking magazine ad.
It seemed that even if he’d wanted to have more than a fling, the women who were interested had him pegged as a good time and nothing more. He sighed, wondering why these nostalgic thoughts were plaguing him.
Shaking off the dark thoughts, he went inside the restaurant, gave the hostess his name, and was shown to a table in the back. He ordered two fingers of Jameson whiskey and sipped it as he waited for his next conquest to walk through the door.
* * * *
Cate zipped up the expensive dress she'd bought through the agency's personal shopper. She was amazed at how much each dress had cost, thinking that her job as a journalist didn't compare to the escort industry. She was in the wrong field.
She'd had strict instructions—tasteful but sexy. Turning to look at herself in the mirror, she inhaled deeply, smoothing her hands over her hips. The tight cocktail dress was beautiful, stunning in its design and texture. The top half was a black, corset-style bodice with spaghetti straps, which cinched in her waist, making it look tiny, and pushed her boobs up so high that they were almost tucked under her chin. The bottom was made of a thick silk material covered in blue, pink, and silver flowers that came down to about mid-thigh. The entire thing was skin-tight, and Cate was glad for her daily runs and yoga routines, and the toned muscles that came with them. She slipped her feet into four-inch Jimmy Choo stiletto heels. She'd always wanted a pair of them. Maybe she'd get to keep them when this thing was over.
Overall, the expensive dress made her look like the high-dollar escort that she was. Not tacky, exactly, but it definitely put her on display.
Nervously, she tucked one side of her hair behind her ear, the cascades of black locks falling to her waist. She'd left it down, knowing that men loved it. She blended her eyeshadow just a bit more, toning down the dark, smoky look, and put on a final coat of clear lip gloss. Her pale peach lips shimmered, creating a contrast that made her look innocent and sultry all at the same time.
She gave herself one last glance, turning to check out her butt as she did. It would have to do. Cate grabbed her clutch and keys from the table beside the front door of her Georgetown townhome.
She'd fallen in love with the an
tique built-ins next to the ornate fireplace, the hardwood floors, and the brick façade covered in green ivy. It was way too big for her, but she'd been able to pay the high rent each month by taking on a roommate. A roommate that was blessedly out of town right now. Jenn would have a fit if she knew what Cate was up to.
Legs, her munchkin cat—known for their short, stubby legs—wrapped herself around her ankles. She didn't like when Cate left her at night. During the day, the cat slept most of her time away, but at night, she liked to snuggle, and Cate knew that with her working nights for the foreseeable future, Legs wasn't going to be happy.
"I'll be home soon, girl," she said, bending down to scratch the cat behind her ears. She purred but wouldn't let go. She'd wrapped herself around Cate's legs like an ankle bracelet. Every time she moved, the cat came with her. She took the treat bag off the table, shaking it, and that did the trick. Legs unwrapped herself and sat on her hind legs, just like a dog, waiting patiently for her treat. After dropping the treat at the cat's feet, Cate rushed through the front door, pausing to lock it behind her.
Outside, she carefully walked over the brick sidewalk to the off-street parking. Her car, a shiny, red Fiat with a cream and red interior, was great on gas and small enough for her to parallel park in the city. She was awful at it, and having the small car made it just a little easier to squeeze into tight spaces.
She sat in the driver's seat, slipping off her shoe so she could push the gas down without the four-inch heel in the way, and took off towards the restaurant to meet her date. All she knew was that his name was Gabe, and her mind thought back to the Gabriel she'd known a few years before. The man she still couldn't get off her mind. The man she'd had to desert without so much as a goodbye.
She shook thoughts of Gabriel Sanchez out of her mind as she drove down the main drag of Georgetown. She parked the car in the garage for the upscale Italian restaurant. She'd been to Filomena's before on a couple of dates. Walking in felt like walking into your grandmother's house. It was warm and cozy, and the food was out of this world. Maybe this Gabe guy wouldn't be so bad since he'd picked such a fabulous place for dinner.
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