breasts toward the deep "V" of the neckline. She smiled at the increased cleavage displayed.
"Here's the deal," Tiffany said, picking up a brush and teasing her honey-blonde hair into the lush hairstyle of a centerfold. "We're going to the mall. Brenda and Diana will distract the rent-a-cops so we can get away. Then, we'll meet up with the girls at the party."
"And just how are Brenda and Diana supposed to distract them?"
Tiffany grunted as she pulled caramel-colored, high-heeled leather boots over her skin-tight jeans. "Have you seen my detail? They're old men in their thirties or forties; ripe for their mid-life crisis. You've seen Brenda's boobs. They're huge. I told her to wear something especially hot. Diana with her cute southern accent and big blue eyes will have them eating out of her hand."
Penny gave her a dubious look. "And if they don't?"
Tiffany grinned at her friend. "We'll make a run for it."
PILAR – 5
Pilar Luna sank into the leather seat of the private jet she'd hired to take her to Sacramento. She really didn't have any interest in the Capitol remodeling project, but knew pictures of her and Preston would make the front page of all the California papers and maybe even some on the east coast. Preston Truesdale was a big hit as governor and might eventually make a run for the White House. If he got there, Pilar planned on moving in with him as the First Lady. It wasn't that she was madly in love with him, but he could take her places she might not be able to get to on her own.
She used the flight time to clip in thick brunette hair extensions and refresh her makeup. Slipping into a demure navy cocktail dress, she scowled at her reflection in the mirror of the oversized lavatory. "There is nothing sexy about this. No bling, no skin, no boobs," she said to herself. She swigged the last of her champagne, reapplied her lip-gloss, then returned to the main cabin just as the steward appeared and asked her to secure her seatbelt.
Ten minutes later, she walked from the tarmac to the stretch limousine where Preston waited. She pulled her bright pink wrap tighter as a cold breeze mussed her hair. He wouldn't like the flamboyant shade of her stole, but she was young and attractive enough to pull it off. After all, she was a mayor, not dead.
With a flourish, the chauffeur opened the passenger door. Preston stepped out. "Ah there's my girl," he said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
"Hi, darling. Brrrr, let's get inside," she said, sliding into the warmth of the limo's interior.
Hidden from the driver by a dark Plexiglas divider and the depths of luxurious leather seats, Preston turned to her. "Now let me give you a proper welcome," he said, stretching out across the seat and pulling her to him.
His kiss was hard and demanding. His hand ran up her thigh and cupped her bottom. Leaning against him, Pilar felt his erection spring to life while he fingered the strings of the thong she wore.
"Down boy," she said with a smile. "I can't get out of the limo looking like we've just had sex. The paparazzi will have a field day."
"Screw 'em! How 'bout a blow job?"
"And you'll take care of me later?"
"Have I ever let you down?"
Pilar reached over and unzipped his pants.
MADDIE – 6
I pointed my two-seater sports car toward an Irish pub not far from the house I shared with Travis. The restaurant was one of our favorite places to eat because the food was delicious, it was owned by a local, and it was rarely crowded. I swung into the parking lot, locked the car and hurried inside.
Kelly green upholstered booths ran along the walls where white linen hung at stained-glass windows. Twinkling lights strung from the ceiling offered low-keyed ambiance.
I scanned the room to find Travis sitting at the bar nursing a beer.
My irritation pushed me across the room with purpose. "What are you doing? You're on duty."
"No one in here knows that but you. I'm not in uniform." He didn't even have the courtesy to look at me. Instead he snagged a couple peanuts out of the plastic bowl in front of him.
I sighed and shook my head. "Great. Now you're making me a witness to misconduct."
This time he turned his head toward me. His light green eyes seemed more pained than usual. "Lighten up. You want a glass of wine or something?"
I snorted. "Oh you'd better make it something stronger than wine. I've had a hell of a day."
The server appeared.
"I'll take another beer, and my wife will have…" he looked at me questioningly.
"A White Russian."
As the waitress left, Travis turned to me. "Okay, so tell me about your high profile case."
I leaned toward him and kept my voice just above a whisper. "I had a meeting with the governor, the mayor, and the chief today. Cutter was there too. Long story short, a woman from Northridge disappeared and the governor is hot to find her because she's the bone marrow donor for his daughter."
Travis let out a low whistle. "I see why you're stressed — political nightmare. Any clues on where this chick is?"
"Not one. On paper she looks clean as a nun, but something about her bothers me. Then, Cutter and I went to her apartment, and it had been tossed. We canvassed her apartment building and neighborhood and came up with nothing." I related the apartment manager's account of 'Detective Bill Gannon' and the fact that no one in the neighborhood remembered seeing Heather, much less with a male.
The server returned with our drinks.
"How much time do you have to find her? I mean how sick is the governor's daughter?"
I shrugged. "No one will tell us how dire the situation is. But, they're really putting the pressure on to find the missing woman." I sat back in my seat and spoke in a normal tone. "Until this woman is found, I guarantee I'll be working lots of overtime."
I watched him for a reaction. He shrugged.
"Nothing strange about that," he said, scooping more peanuts. "You're always working."
"Travis, there are only six of us handling all the adult missing person cases in the entire city. You have no idea what I face every day."
He paused for a moment before he spoke. "I don't think it has anything to do with work. You're running away from our home, you're running away from our marriage, and you're running away from me."
I pressed my lips together as tears formed in my eyes. He'd touched a nerve and knew it.
"You know why I don't want to be home," I hissed. "I can't stand it there and yet we can't get out. With the housing market the way it is, we're stuck — probably for years."
"I've told you —"
"I know what you've told me. We can rent the house out. We can get an apartment. We can sell at a loss and buy a smaller house somewhere else." I pushed my hair out of my eyes. "Travis, from the moment I laid eyes on it, all my dreams were in that house. All our dreams were in that house, and now they're ruined."
"It doesn't have to be that way," he said softly.
"I know what you want me to do, but I can't. I can't," I said as tears slowly rolled down my face.
He pulled me into his arms and rocked me side-to-side. This was how it used to be. This felt right. I felt safe, and I wanted it to last forever.
After a few minutes I pulled away, used my cocktail napkin to dab my eyes, and took a deep breath. "Okay, so tell me, why are you here in the middle of your shift drinking on duty?"
His gaze lowered to the floor. "I got kicked out of S.W.A.T. and they've assigned me to home, pending mental evaluation."
I took a large gulp of my cocktail. "Mental evaluation? Travis, I know we've had a tough year, but you're not thinking of doing something stupid, are you?"
He gave me a stony look. "Do you honestly think I would eat my gun?"
"No, I don't. But there has to be some reason they've put you off duty."
"Yeah, it's called the dickhead lieutenant feels I've been under too much stress and wants me 'to have some time' for myself. What a joke."
I quickly sifted through several scenarios that might have led to
this shocking development. "Have they ordered you to Behavioral Sciences?"
"What do you think?" His tone dripped with disgust. "Of course the department is going to cover their ass and make me talk to the department shrink."
"Well, what prompted it? There has to be more than you're telling me."
Travis's hard stare radiated rage. "Really? Why can't you just take my word I'm getting screwed over at work?"
I intentionally made my tone soft. "Because I live with you."
In an instant he was on his feet. He opened his wallet and flung bills on the bar.
"Travis, wait," I said, grabbing his arm.
"Why? So you can take their side? I thought a wife was supposed to support her husband…until death. After all, I've been carrying you for over a year."
Travis, the love of my life, couldn't have shocked me more if he'd slapped me. Instantly, I saw horror, regret, and apology in his eyes. Bile filled my throat.
I leapt to my feet. "Don't worry, Travis. You won't have to carry me another day."
"Maddie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it."
I ignored him and pushed my way through the room, dodging tables and chairs. The bar was quiet and people stared. I heard Travis run into a chair and curse. He was still following me, calling my name.
I got outside before the tears started to fall. I pushed myself even faster and gulped the cool air while I dug through my purse for my car keys. What a bastard!
Travis ran up behind me and grabbed my left arm, spinning me around. I tried to punch him in the face, but before I connected, he grabbed my wrist.
"Maddie, I'm a shit. I'm so
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