“Good. You’re here.” He motioned to her. “I’ve lost my running partner.”
“Lucky me,” she mumbled.
He grinned. “Glad you feel that way. Let’s go, Staff Sergeant.”
Instinct told her that he had an ulterior motive, but Midge had little choice. He was her superior officer. She dressed to run and met him outside. After a quick warm-up, they hit the pavement.
“That was a new low for you this morning,” he said.
Midge stifled a groan. Always trust your instinct. She braced herself for his lecture.
“I get that you don’t want to draw attention to yourself, even though I don’t much like that you’ve chosen to hide. But that—”
“Would it help if I told you it wasn’t intentional?”
“It wouldn’t hurt. Want to talk about it? You know you can tell me and Phillip—and our wives—anything.”
That was very true, and she hated the regulations that made her keep her distance. She missed their company. She told Zach everything—the disguise and her decision to go with it, not having her glasses, Orin coming to her rescue, how hot the sex was and missing the alarm. By the time she was finished, they’d run their two-mile course and were nearly back to the office.
“Sounds like quite the man,” Zach told her. “I’m guessing you’re going to see him again?”
“I told him I’d call him tonight. He said something about us going out to dinner. I’m still not ready to give him my phone numbers.”
“I don’t see why not? He already knows where you live and can find you if he wants.”
“That was my feeling, as well. I guess I want him to work a little more for the numbers.” She smiled. “I can’t give him everything all in one night.”
Zach laughed. “That’s it, my friend. Make him work for it. What’s his name?”
“Orin Davis.”
He stumbled in mid-stride, quickly recovering.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Tripped over a stupid crack. I’m okay. Embarrassed, but okay.”
They picked up the pace, sprinting the last fifty yards to the office.
“Good run.” He fist-bumped her shoulder. “Gotta stay in shape for when Claudia’s able to jog again. The woman can run me into the ground.”
Midge laughed and prayed no one made an issue of them running together. “My pleasure, and thanks for the energy bar and cold brew this morning. I was starving.”
“Wasn’t me.”
Her thoughts went to his earlier demand to talk to Davidson. “You told him to apologize.”
“I did indeed.” He winked and aimed for the men’s shower.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Take the olive branch extended or beat Davidson over the head with it?
He was wearing sandalwood aftershave.
Midge ordered her subconscious to shut up and hurried to the women’s head for what was going to be a cold shower.
* * * *
Jess Alderman reached into his shirt pocket and took out a toothpick. He slid off its cellophane wrapper then deftly placed it between his teeth at the corner of his mouth. Leaning forward over his battered old desk, he laced his big hands together. It was a deliberate pose that made his lanky frame seem unthreatening and approachable.
Kurt had seen his boss use the trick many times when interrogating witnesses. The real Jess could be as approachable as a great white shark circling its prey.
“So, you went to the club in search of our blackmailer with the idea you could gain her trust and get some valuable information, and you ended up driving her home where you subsequently engaged in sexual intercourse. Am I getting this straight?”
It wasn’t sexual intercourse. It was sex and we fucked each other senseless.
It was the best sex he’d ever had and though he shouldn’t, he wanted more. Telling himself this was how she roped in her victims didn’t help. He blamed his lust on his dry spell and those fantasies of Ellis that had run through his head while he screwed Midge.
“She made a move on me. I ran with it. It’s how she operates. We play her game and let her trap herself.”
Jess grunted and pushed the toothpick to the other corner of his mouth. “What next? Dinner and a movie? Or will you keep fornicating with her for the duration?”
“Don’t start with me, Jess. I’ve had one bad run-in today, and I’m not in the mood for any more crap.”
“A bad run-in with who?”
Jess was baiting him, but Kurt wasn’t interested in playing games, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell his boss that he’d made an ass of himself.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Ellis this afternoon. The erection from hell had returned with a vengeance. He cursed himself for the thousandth time for not seeing his golden chance.
Jess cleared his throat. “A bad run-in with who?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “I just owe someone a personal apology.”
The treat he’d left on her desk wouldn’t suffice. He hoped she didn’t realize it had come from him. He’d been too fearful of rejection to leave a note. Her knowing that the food and drink were from him might make her question how he knew her likes. Kurt was wondering that himself. Clearly, he’d been paying more attention to her than he’d realized.
It worried yet intrigued him that she’d been at the Lost Oasis the night before. Why hadn’t he noticed her? Surely he would have seen her walk in. He’d been lying in wait for his target a good hour before she’d arrive. He’d seen everyone who’d walked into the place, watched it fill to capacity. Ellis would have stuck out. Had she seen him and avoided contact? He mentally shook his head. That was impossible. He’d been in disguise.
She reeked of sex.
All he could think about was how she’d be in bed and wonder who the lucky man was who had opened that prize. Would she be better than Midge? Oh hell, do ‘em both. He willed the fantasy away and waited for Jess to make his next move.
They eyed each other for a minute, then Jess broke the tension.
“Okay, slick, let me remind you about the last time you went a little too far with your investigation. You ended up getting shot and spending a lot of quality time healing and in rehab, remember?”
Kurt’s shoulder and thigh twinged with half-remembered pain. His recovery had been long, involving months of rehabilitation. He refused to argue with Jess about old cases so said nothing.
“You’ve got to stop getting obsessed with these parts you play.” Jess shook a finger at him and put on his lecture face.
“I’ll do my best to stay as uninvolved as possible.” Kurt mustered his most earnest expression. “It’s a blackmailing case, nothing too difficult.”
That seemed to appease Jess, so Kurt changed the subject. “In any event, that’s where I am with that case. I was unable to get her phone numbers. The place she’s renting is owned by a Bernadette McFee, who lives in the adjacent house.”
“In all your shenanigans, did you bother to get her name?”
Kurt resented his snide tone. “Midge. No last name…yet.”
Jess snorted and rolled the toothpick to its original position. “Another new investigation has come up. I want you and Vic to start looking into the specifics.”
“Can’t the new guy do it? I’ve got enough to handle as it is.”
Jess smirked. “Indeed you do. Stop calling Anders ‘the new guy’. He’s been here a month already.”
“And hasn’t done shit,” Kurt snapped.
“He doesn’t like it any more than you do, but he’s got to keep a low profile until that federal trial is over. At the moment, he’s got a huge target on his back.”
Drug cartel bosses didn’t take kindly to being taken down. Kurt appreciated Anders’ situation and his frustration.
“This one’s important, Kurt.”
Aren’t they all?
Jess looked tired. His lean face had developed a score of new lines in the two days since they’d star
ted the Lost Oasis case. The blue eyes that normally snapped and sparked with life were dimmed with worry.
“This is about ketamine.” Jess leaned back, reached into a battered metal file drawer and brought out a thick manila folder.
Ketamine had become popular with the club crowd because in small doses it produced a fast high. In larger doses it was a date-rape drug. Anders’ past experience with drug cases made him the perfect guy for this investigation. It would also put him at great risk should someone see him.
Jess opened his folder and flipped through the papers. He pulled out a page marked with the logo of the Drug Enforcement Administration and slid it across the desktop to Kurt.
“Take a look at this.”
Kurt scanned the DEA memo that had been distributed to the law enforcement agencies and military installations throughout Southern California. A large shipment of liquid ketamine, destined for veterinary laboratories in Mexico, had been diverted to the United States and tracked as far as the Riverside area.
At that point, the agents had lost track of the shipment but suspected the bulk of the contraband had made its way up to the high desert area surrounding Twentynine Palms and the Marine Corps base.
Jess’ chair creaked as he leaned back again. “There have been several vials of the ketamine confiscated by recent DEA sting operations in the Palm Springs area. Testing confirms it’s from the original Mexican shipment. Unfortunately, the bulk of the shipment is still unaccounted for.”
Palm Springs was an hour away and a popular weekend destination for the Marines. Hooking up with the stuff would be easy.
“Any hits on our Marines?” he asked.
Jess flicked his now-decimated toothpick into the metal trash can next to his desk. “My sources confirm someone has been distributing powdered ketamine locally, a lot of which is making its way onto the base.” He sighed. “That means someone purchased the liquid, cooked it down and packaged it for resale. We need to find out who’s selling the stuff and where they got it from.”
“Any idea of where to start?”
“DEA is sending one of their regional agents up to meet with me tonight. After that, we’ll get started, and I’ll bring you and Vic in to meet whoever they send.” Jess squinted at Kurt. “I was a little uneasy about having to work so closely with the DEA, but we don’t have much choice.”
“Why do you say that?” Kurt asked.
“We think the dealer is a Marine.”
Saying the words seemed to weigh Jess down more. Kurt understood how he felt. After over thirty years in the business, he knew Jess was tired of always hearing the military was involved, even if that was the job. Retirement might be looking better and better to him.
Kurt leaned forward, ready to suggest it once more.
The office door flew open and crashed against the plaster wall before he got the chance. Kurt jumped up, reaching for the pistol at his side. Streams of dust filtered down from the cracked white ceiling tiles above the desk.
“What the hell?” Coughing, Jess waved his hand in front of his face and shoved to his feet.
Kurt frowned when he recognized the intruder.
Lieutenant Lee Parsons was stocky and built like a boxer. He filled the opening to the hallway as he gripped the doorjamb in a white-knuckled hold that threatened to demolish the wood. The man’s dark eyes were wide and bloodshot, flicking between Jess and Kurt, as if he didn’t know who to go after first. He quivered with rage and his short blond hair was spiked in disarray rather than combed.
Kurt positioned himself between Parsons and Jess. He balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to intercept any sudden moves from their unannounced visitor. Parsons was big, but Kurt had the martial arts training to bring him down.
“Ease up, both of you,” Jess told them. “Sit down, Lieutenant.” Jess’ chair sighed as he sat.
Kurt lowered himself onto the edge of his chair, keeping one eye on the agitated Marine. He didn’t trust the twitchy bastard.
“Lieutenant”—Jess laced his fingers before him on the desk—“what can we do for you? Are you here to break my door or provide us with more information related to your case? As I told you yesterday, Special Agent Davidson has things well in hand.”
“He’s taking his damn sweet time about it, too.” Parsons’ anger turned his deep voice into a growl.
Jess flicked Kurt a narrow glare but continued to placate Parsons. “I assure you, Lieutenant, Agent Davidson is working for your best interests. He needs to gather more information about this woman, perhaps entice her to become more involved with him in order to thoroughly expose her blackmailing schemes. He’s not taking this lightly. We have to have sufficient evidence to prosecute. You don’t want her to get a slap on the wrist and time served for misdemeanor crimes.”
“He’s too damn slow. She’s already working her next victim. I saw some civilian last night with that blackmailing bitch’s tit in his hand.”
“You were at the club last night?” Kurt didn’t bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “We asked you to let us handle this and to keep away from her.”
Parsons shifted on his chair and twisted his military cover between his paw-like hands. The cap was going to look like something he’d pulled from the trash by the time he was done with it. He focused his gaze everywhere but on them. “I was sitting in my car in the parking lot, waiting for her. I’ve been there most nights for the past couple of weeks, hoping she’d show up.”
Patches of red spread from his thick neck up to his cheeks. “My wife thinks I’m working late on a special project. I patch my desk phone through to my cell phone so if she calls me at work, I can pick up right away.”
“Clever you.” Kurt didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm or his contempt.
“What did you see last night?” Jess asked.
Parsons’ jaw clenched. “I saw that whore arrive around twenty-one hundred with a man and another woman. I was parked pretty far back in the lot, and by the time I got out of my car and ran up to the door, they’d gone inside.”
Kurt was curious. “Why didn’t you go in? Confront her in front of everyone?”
Another flush. Another glance away. “The last time I was in the club I caused a little bit of a ruckus, and now that fuckin’ bouncer won’t let me in. If the other guy had been on duty, I would have gone after her.”
He pounded his clenched fist against Jess’ metal desk, knocking paperclips from their bowl. “I swear to God, I’m going to kill her. She thinks she has me by the balls because of one quick hop in the sack. Well, I’m not going to let her do it. Do you hear me?”
“Are you sure it was her?” Kurt asked.
Parsons whipped around. “Of course it was her. No one else has red hair like that.”
“Calm down, Lieutenant. We’re only trying to make sure we have the right woman,” Jess said. “Are you one-hundred percent positive?”
“She’s put on some pounds since I was with her. She’s curvier than I recall but it’s her. I saw her outside last with her new target. He drove off with her. God help the fool.”
“Has she asked for more money or tried to contact you in any way?” Jess asked.
He shook his head.
“Then, at this point, you have two weeks to come up with the money before she delivers copies of her video to your wife and your command. That gives us fourteen days to gather enough evidence to solidly convict her. Between now and then, I suggest you stop lurking around in parking lots and spend more time with your wife and children. It’s almost Christmas, remember?”
Parsons bobbed his head.
“Are you sure you can’t remember where she took you the night you had sex?” Kurt asked for what had to be the tenth time.
The lieutenant stared at the worn carpet and shook his head. “I already told you…some house. It was too dark and I was too drunk. Everything was a blur that night.” He glared at Kurt. “Believe me. If I could remember, I’d take care of this problem myself.”
&nbs
p; Jess gestured toward the door. “Leave the investigating to us, Lieutenant. We don’t need any screwups at this point, okay?”
Parsons glanced from man to man. Faced with Jess’ implacable reserve and Kurt’s glowering stare, he had no choice but to leave, albeit more quietly than he had arrived. The door closed softly behind him.
“Asshole.” Kurt slumped into his chair. “So much for happily-ever-after married life. What happened to fidelity? Jerk. I hate men like that. Probably not the first time he screwed around on his wife, and I’d bet it won’t be the last.”
Jess rubbed his temples. “She knows her targets well, from all the reports that have come in.”
“You’d think the men would be too embarrassed to admit they’d been screwing around on their wives. They’ve risked being brought up on adultery charges by their commanding officers.”
“I’d bet she’s been counting on that, as well. Parsons still maintains he was too drunk to know what he was doing.”
Kurt snorted. “If you believe that, I’ve got some beachfront property to sell you here in the desert. This isn’t the type of woman you can keep your hands off of.”
He regretted the words the instant they left his lips.
Jess raised his eyebrows. “What I’m more concerned with right now is your method of information gathering.” He nailed Kurt in place with a glance. “Don’t screw this up by getting too involved with the suspect.”
“Don’t worry, Jess.” Kurt stretched and yawned. The late night and early morning were catching up to him. “I’ve got everything well in hand.” He grinned. “No pun intended.”
“I’m sure.”
It seemed Jess wasn’t above a little sarcasm himself.
Chapter Four
Midge paused outside of Bakkman’s Boutique. The clothing in the window was fashionable but not too outrageous. They were outfits real women might actually wear, not the ragged shreds of polyester and leather waif-like models touted in magazines.
She glanced at her reflection in the store window and sighed. She’d exchange military cammies for a comfortable plaid wool skirt paired with a soft sweater and her winter coat. She’d raked her unruly hair into a ponytail, yet wayward strands refused to be tamed. Wisps of curls framed her face. Off-duty also meant letting her guard down a little. Mascara darkened her lashes and the kiss of blush accentuated her cheeks, but the glasses remained.
Beneath the Layers Page 7
