Castle Investigations Box Set

by Dee Bridgnorth

  Ethan was lying. There was no way Tobias was watching them. Which meant that Ethan had kissed her because he'd wanted to. She smiled to herself. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

  But since that kiss, Ethan had kept his distance. He'd been quiet in the car to the club, only asking her if she was ok, and not even looking at her. She knew he was beating himself up because he felt responsible for her being in harm's way, and probably because of that kiss as well. She wasn't sure how she was going to convince him to give them a chance, but after that kiss, she was determined to. Sully would get over it. He had to.

  Isabel had assured Ethan that she was ok. And she was. She'd been groped by men before, so it wasn't like this had been the first time. Isabel could admit that she'd been frightened, but only because Tobias's behavior was so erratic and unpredictable. He'd been drunk and had taken far more liberties than he normally would have in public. At least, she hoped that was the case.

  They sat at a table close to the stage, waiting for the showgirls to perform. This show was rated PG-13 rather than X. For this first part of the evening, peek-a-boo costumes and elaborate headdresses with choreographed dances were on the menu, rather than exotic dancing and stripper poles.

  The first act began, and Isabel's gaze was riveted to the stage. The women were so tall, dancing in five- and six-inch heels. Their flamboyant costumes and teasing routines kept the audience in awe. There was a bit of whimsy to the show that Isabel hadn't expected, and she found herself laughing periodically.

  She caught Ethan's gaze as he watched her, a smile tugging at his lips.

  "What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

  "Nothing. Just like seeing you enjoy yourself." He reached over and squeezed her hand as she tried to cover up the warmth that was quickly spreading to her cheeks. At least he was talking to her again.

  The music changed, and the lighting dimmed. A beautiful soprano voice lilted up from behind the stage. Quita, dressed in a tutti frutti hat à la Carmen Miranda, walked out with long-legged grace. Her costume left very little to the imagination, but it had a throwback style to when times were simpler—when Vegas wasn't so cold and harsh. If she’d been covered just a bit more, it would be almost exactly like it had been during that bygone era. Isabel could imagine a big band playing while Quita sang and danced, shimmying across the stage while men in fedoras and women in elegant dresses smoked cigarettes and watched from linen-topped tables.

  Surprised by the talent and tastefulness of the performance, Isabel found herself slightly choked up when the song came to a close. Quita was talented. Brilliant. So why was she hanging around Bruno? It couldn't be by choice. There had to be something he was holding over her, something that tied her to him.

  Ethan touched her hand lightly. "You ok?"

  She nodded vigorously, waving him off. "Fine. She's amazing, isn't she?"

  "She is. Let's see if we can catch her backstage." Ethan took Isabel’s hand in his, and they walked back through the curtain that covered the entrance to the hallway, trying to catch Quita as she came off stage.

  She stood in the hallway, her large tutti frutti hat even more astonishing up close. That thing had to weigh twenty pounds or more.

  Two guards stepped in front of them, blocking their path.

  "Quita!" Isabel called out, waving her hand.

  Quita turned, then dismissed her with a shrug. "Autographs will take place after the show."

  "We're not here for autographs," Ethan said smoothly.

  Quita raked her gaze over him, starting at his toes and working her way up to his eyes. "Oh, yeah? Well, that kind of entertainment doesn't start till after ten."

  She turned to go, and Isabel tried to push past the guards, calling out, "Wait!"

  Sighing, Quita turned around, exasperation clearly written all over her face. She touched one of the guys on his arm, giving him permission to step aside. Isabel and Ethan stepped into the hallway.

  "What?" Quita spat.

  Isabel didn't blame her. She was probably harassed all the time.

  "We'd like to talk with you. That's all."

  Quita looked uneasy, looking at the bodyguards standing close by. They didn't appear to be paying them any attention.

  "About what?"

  Isabel glanced at the big men, then lowered her voice. "It's not something I'd like to discuss out here."

  It appeared Quita was warring with herself, then she finally relented. "Fine. But it will have to wait till later. Meet me after the show. I'll send for you. Are you sure it's just talking you're interested in? If you were to"—she paused, eyeing Ethan again and licking her lips—"change your mind, I could accommodate."

  Isabel pushed down the green monster that threatened to claw Quita's eyes out. She knew this was her job. It was probably second nature to her to be alluring and seductive. Faced with her beautiful complexion and curvy figure, Isabel was suddenly self-conscious about her freckles and thin build. She had curves, but none that compared to Quita's.

  "No, thanks," Ethan answered. "We'll see you after the show."

  Ethan took Isabel's elbow and led them back to their table. They watched the rest of the performances and then had a couple of drinks during the intermission. Afterwards, loud music bellowed throughout the room, and people pushed to the dance floor while the staff prepared the stage for the adult show.

  When ten o'clock rolled around, the lights dimmed again as pounding electronic music blared through the speakers. A disco ball hung from the ceiling, spinning as lights flashed from it in all directions. Two women came onto the stage, one of whom was dressed in a naughty policewoman's outfit, while the other took on the role of her sexy prisoner.

  Isabel rolled her eyes at the enactment. As the girls undressed each other, handcuffed each other, and spanked each other, she found herself hoping that this part of the evening would go by quickly.

  She watched Ethan discreetly, wondering if he was enjoying the show. When he caught her eye, he smiled and shook his head.

  "Not my taste," he said, and she briefly wondered if he had mind-reading skills. She shrugged it off as if it didn't matter to her whether he was enjoying himself or not—although it was hard for her to believe that any red-blooded male wouldn't enjoy watching two women doing what they were doing to each other on stage at that moment. Good grief!

  The bad-girl police officer and her prisoner exited the stage, and a thumping bass rumbled through the room. A Latin pop artist crooned as Quita made her way back onto the stage. She still wore the headdress from earlier, or one similar to it, but the rest of her outfit was entirely different.

  A fruit-covered bra covered her breasts, while her hips boasted a skirt made entirely of bananas. Quita gyrated and danced with such skill that Isabel wondered how she moved her hips that way. It appeared that Quita had combined the talents of two famous icons, and turned them into a more seductive and naughty version of them both. During their own time, Carmen Miranda and Josephine Baker had been known for their daring performances, breaking all kinds of societal norms. In twenty-first century Vegas, however, their acts would be tame. It looked like Quita had taken care of that, amping up the routines to entice audiences in a day and age where sex and nudity were easily accessible.

  Isabel wondered how she kept that thing on her head while she circled her hips and swung around the pole. When Quita unhooked her bra and slipped out of the banana skirt, leaving only a see-through G-string in its place, Isabel felt her cheeks grow hot. They were about to talk to this woman. And she'd now seen her naked!

  Isabel wasn't a prude. She'd attended a sex party, for crying out loud. But having a conversation with someone whose bits and pieces she’d just seen was a little unorthodox.

  The show ended, and Quita left the stage to an uproarious response. Men catcalled, and women whistled. Everyone loved her. And Isabel had to admit that she was amazing. She'd preferred the show with Quita’s clothes on, but her talent was undeniable.

  One of the bodyguards am
bled towards them, and Ethan stiffened. When the guard reached their table, he said, "Quita will meet you in the VIP room. Down the hallway, third door on the right."

  The guard didn't wait for a response, just turned and left.

  "I don't like this," Ethan said.

  "Why? Maybe she's hoping we'll change our minds on the little something more?" Isabel suggested.

  "Maybe. Do you have your gun?"

  Isabel nodded. "It's in my purse."

  "Go to the bathroom and strap it to your leg. I want it easily accessible. When we reach the door, I'll walk in first."

  "Got it." Isabel slipped off the stool and went to the bathroom. She ducked inside the stall and strapped the gun to her upper thigh. When she was done, she pushed her skirt down, making sure it covered the holster.

  Satisfied that her weapon was well concealed, she left the bathroom and met Ethan in the hallway.

  "Ready?"

  "As I'll ever be."

  She took his proffered hand, and they walked down the hallway, stopping in front of the VIP room. Ethan pushed open the door and stuck his head inside. Isabel could hear soft R&B music playing and relaxed a little bit. It appeared that Quita had set up quite the seduction scene.

  Quita sat on a couch, still dressed in her banana skirt and fruity bra. She sipped champagne from a glass and motioned for them to sit on the chaise next to her. "Sit, please."

  Quita's eyes followed every movement Ethan made, and Isabel wanted to scratch them out. When Ethan was seated, Quita sat forward, placing her hand on his thigh. That little green monster inside her was rearing its ugly head. Isabel hoped that she could keep it caged.

  "Now, what was so important that you had to speak with me?"

  Ethan gently removed her hand, then placed his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.

  "We need your help," he started.

  "With what?"

  "Bruno Lopez," Isabel said.

  "The owner of the club? What would you want with him?"

  "We have information that there are some things going on around here that aren't exactly legal."

  "I know nothing about that."

  "Maybe not. But we do know that you're in a relationship with him."

  Quita scoffed, then seemed to catch herself, and cleared her throat.

  "I can't see how that's any of your business."

  "It is when he's threatening our lives and those of our friends," Isabel finally put in.

  Quita’s eyes widened, and she darted a look to the side of the room. She leaned forward, speaking softly.

  "Get out. If you know what's good for you, you'll get out now." Then, in a louder voice, she said, "I don't have any information on what you're looking for. I'm sorry."

  Realizing they'd hit a dead end, as well as a little unnerved by Quita's warning, Isabel stood, handing Quita a card with her name and number on it. "If you think of anything, please call me."

  Quita nodded, then quickly left the room, closing the door behind her. When she was gone, Ethan stood as well. "Let's get out of here."

  He took her hand and pulled her towards the door just as it opened, and the two thugs from earlier blocked their way, guns drawn and aimed right at them.

  "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, we were just leaving," Ethan said.

  "You're not going anywhere," one of the guards said.

  Ethan raised his hands. "Look, guys, we don't want any trouble."

  "You should have thought of that before you came in here tonight. Bruno wants to see you."

  Ice flowed through Isabel's veins. If Bruno got his hands on them tonight, they'd never see another day. Ethan must have had the same thought, as he said, "Tell Bruno thanks, but we've got other plans tonight."

  "You're a funny guy, huh? You won't be so funny when I ram your teeth down your throat."

  Ethan laughed. "I'd like to see you try."

  The thug obviously thought he could take Ethan, as he holstered his gun and threw himself towards him, landing a blow on his jaw. Ethan wasn't as brawny as these guys, but he was much quicker.

  Isabel couldn't help the gasp that tore from her throat when Ethan whipped around, pummeling the guy in the stomach over and over again. Holding the guy by the hair, Ethan brought his knee up, and Isabel heard the crunch of bone on bone. Blood spurted from the thug's nose, and Ethan pushed him down on the ground. His head hit the floor with a crack, and the guy went still.

  It all happened so fast. The other guard seemed stunned at first, standing there with his gun in his hand and his mouth open wide. Finally, seeing that his friend was incapacitated, he lunged for Ethan. This thug was larger than the first, towering over Ethan by three or four inches, and outweighing him by at least sixty pounds. Catching Ethan off guard, he rammed his fist into Ethan's face. Ethan stumbled back, and the guy landed a blow to his midsection. Lowering his head, Ethan charged towards the guy as they hit the wall.

  "Run, Isabel!" Ethan yelled.

  No way was she leaving him by himself. Remembering that she had her gun on her, she pulled it from the holster attached to her leg. She waited, gun in hand, hoping for just the right moment to get off a clean shot. Ethan caught her eye as he slammed the thug into the wall, ramming his fist into the guy's kidneys.

  Ethan yelled out again, "Go! Get out of here! Now!" And with that, Ethan shoved his fist into the other guy's gut.

  Not wanting to distract Ethan anymore, Isabel turned and ran out the door towards the back exit. She passed several doors in the hallway, nearing the back door, when hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her into a dark room, knocking the gun from her hand. It skittered across the floor, and Isabel felt its loss immediately. She tried to scream, but a hand pressed firmly over her mouth, and the cold barrel of a gun touched her temple.

  "You scream, I pull the trigger. Understand?" The man's hot breath fell on her neck, smelling of cigarettes and something dead. She felt bile rise to the back of her throat but forced it back down. She would not throw up.

  The man turned her to face him and pressed her up against the back of the door. She tried to let her eyes adjust to the dimly lit room and saw that she was in a costume room of sorts.

  "Now, you're going to be a good girl and come with me. Bruno wants to talk to you, and he don't like to be kept waiting!"

  She nodded, unable to speak since his nasty hand was still over her mouth. Who knew where it had been?

  "But first, I think I'll have a little fun." He ran his hand down the side of her neck and down between her breasts. Isabel struggled to free herself, but he pushed his hand over her mouth more tightly, pressing her head hard against the door.

  The man unzipped his pants, and Isabel whimpered. She was not going to be raped in a costume room at a filthy club. She bit down on his hand, and he yelled out.

  "Ouch! Bitch!" He backhanded her across the face, and Isabel saw stars. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her head and get her bearings.

  Struggling against him, she pushed at his chest, scratching and clawing. Angry, he hit her again, then grabbed both arms and pinned them above her head. He used his legs to spread hers apart, stepping in between them.

  Damn it.

  She tried to calm her breathing and her nerves, relaxing against him momentarily. The thug thought that she was relenting, so he released one of her hands and stroked her face on his journey back down to his fly. "There you go, love. Just relax. I'll make it quick."

  Once his zipper was undone and his pants pushed to his knees, he forced her skirt up to her waist. He stepped back briefly, taking in her appearance. This freed her legs, and she slowly inched them closer together. She waited until his hand brushed her inner thigh. With everything she had, she drove her knee into the man's crotch. He gasped in pain and bent over, releasing her. Turning around, she grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

  The man grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her back. She yelped at the fire burning her scalp as she was flung to the floor. The man stalk
ed towards her. She scrambled backwards on her hands and knees. Grabbing a bright pink boa off the rack near him, he kept coming until he pulled her up off the floor by her hair.

  Flinging her up against the wall, he wrapped the feather boa around her neck twice, then pulled tightly. Isabel felt the air cut off, the pain in her neck unbearable. She clawed at the boa, trying desperately to loosen it and suck in some air.

  The man ripped her blouse, leaving it hanging in two, and exposing her lace bra underneath. Then he released the boa just a little bit, and Isabel sucked in a lungful of air. But before she'd had her fill, he tightened the boa again, and dark spots swam in front of her eyes.

  His face was close to hers, his terrible breath filling her nostrils.

  Isabel couldn't breathe. Her air supply had run out, and darkness hovered on the edge of her vision. She clawed at the boa again, hoping to loosen it just a bit. She kicked against the wall, trying to breathe. Trying to live. A loud crash sounded nearby, but she no longer had the energy to see what was happening.

  Suddenly, she was free. Precious air entered her lungs, but she was too tired to focus on breathing. Her vision faded, and darkness took its place.

  Chapter 6

  Ethan watched as Isabel fell to the ground, her body limp and still. He made quick work of the guy who'd tried to rape her, punishing him for what he'd almost done.

  Ethan's knuckles screamed, and his body hurt from all the blows he'd taken. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to kill the bastard. But he didn't have time for that. After he’d banged the back of the guy's head into the ground several times, the thug finally lost consciousness.

  Scrambling towards Isabel, Ethan reached out to slide one hand behind her head, lightly patting her face with the other. Her neck was bruised, as was her cheek. The goon must have hit her. Ethan removed the pink feather boa that hung loosely around her neck, furious that the man had touched her—hurt her. He wanted nothing more than to look through his scope, line up that spot between his eyes, and take the kill shot.

  Once he’d confirmed that she was breathing, he picked Isabel up in his arms and walked towards the door. He gave a final kick to the man's side with his steel-toed cowboy boots. Ethan grinned to himself at the broken ribs the guy would have tomorrow, thinking that he’d gotten off easy. He should have paid with his life.