* * *
The woman’s cheeks flushed red as she breathed in and out through her nose. This one liked to be in control. But he sensed that she yearned to have someone take it from her.
“Well?” he asked. “Which is it going to be?”
With newfound vigor, Lexie pounded out her ten spinning side kicks, making contact with the bag every time. She was a quick learner.
He backed away to give her some room to catch her breath.
“Look, I’ve seen your fights,” she said between pants. “And I’ve read the stuff you can do. I was just hoping to see it for myself.”
“Stuff like?”
“You know,” she said indicating the large trophy wall. “The Brutal Bruiser and all that.”
“Brutal Bruiser?” Dekker chuckled. “Is that what they’re calling me now?”
Lexie nodded. “Yes. What would you call your technique?”
“Survival,” Dekker growled. His leg lashed out, hitting the bag with a pop.
“Oops. There goes a kneecap.” He tsked. “I hate it when that happens.”
He relished the look of shock on Lexie’s face. “Is that the type of thing you wanted to practice, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, something like that,” the woman whispered.
He liked it when she lost her hardened exterior and showed herself. He would have liked to explore that a bit more, but the door swung open with a whoosh.
It was Grant. Guess he heard about the minor altercation with Ratface before Dekker could call him.
He patted Lexie on the shoulder. “Why don’t you work on some basics? I’ll be right back.”
Leaving the woman, Dekker crossed the gym to greet Grant, but it appeared that Grant wasn’t exactly in the mood for a greeting as he brushed right past him and headed for Dekker’s office.
Fine. If that’s how Grant wanted to play it.
* * *
Alexis tried to hear what the men were discussing, but the door was too far, and she needed to keep up appearances.
She started into another spinning side kick when the door to the office opened. She was so intent on figuring out what the late-night visitor wanted that she stepped over on the wrong foot and ended up on her ass.
Great impression.
Smiling, Dekker extended his hand to her. “And this would be my prodigal new student, Lexie Thomas.”
She tried to shake off his help, but Dekker cocked an eyebrow. Resigned, she gripped his hand. In a smooth motion, he pulled her up and into his arms.
“Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Grant said as he winked at Dekker.
“You’re telling me,” Dekker chuckled. “I might have to start charging overtime.”
Alexis disentangled herself and reached a hand out to the man.
“Nice to meet you.”
The man’s shake was firm. Not nearly as firm as Dekker’s, but whose was?
“Grant Walker at your service.”
His grip lingered a bit too long. She definitely did not want an associate of Dekker’s to get the wrong idea. She pulled her hand back.
Grant seemed to get the signal that she wasn’t interested as he turned back to Dekker.
“Thanks, man,” Grant said. Clasping Dekker’s hand, he slapped him on the back.
“No problem. It’ll get taken care of tomorrow night.”
Releasing Dekker’s hand, Grant shook his head. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Travis.”
“You’d probably get drunk a lot less and laid a lot more.”
Guys and their humor. Grant laughed all the way out the door.
“What was that about?” she asked.
Dekker shrugged. “He just needed a favor.”
“Like what?” she pressed.
* * *
Wow, this chick was nosy. Or, she had an agenda that he wasn’t aware of.
Dekker crossed the studio, asking, “So, what phase of your menstrual cycle are you in?”
“What?” Lexie looked at Dekker. Her face flamed at such an intimate question. “What does that have to do with training?”
“Nothing, but I thought as long as you were prying into my personal life, I get to reciprocate. Now, what was your question?”
Lexie set her jaw and turned back to the bag. She punched with her right fist, and then her left. It was pretty damned clear that the girl might have spunk, but not a whole lot of stamina.
“It’s late. That’s enough for tonight.”
“But I was just getting the hang of it,” she protested.
Dekker handed her a towel. “We’ll push you further next time.”
Wiping the sweat off her face, she asked, “So when’s the next lesson?”
“I’ve got time this weekend.”
“Oh, come on.” Lexie complained as she wiped her neck down. “You can’t get me all jacked up like this and leave me hanging.”
“Oh, I can’t, huh?” Dekker asked, his eyes narrowed.
But she smiled the exhilarated smile of someone who had just finished a great workout. “Okay, let me rephrase that. You don’t want to leave me hanging.”
Dekker smiled. What about this chick put him in such a giving mood? “Fine. I can come in a little early. How about two tomorrow afternoon?”
“Sounds great.” Lexie started to walk out the door, and then realized that she still held the damp towel in her hand. She turned around and handed it back to Dekker.
“I’d recommend you soak those muscles tonight, or you won’t be good for much tomorrow.” She took a beating tonight. Most girls would have whined after the first fifteen minutes with him.
“Thanks. I will. Good night.” She waved through the glass door as she crossed the deserted street to her car.
Turning the lock on the door, Dekker walked back to his office. His receptionist, Agnes, crossed the studio.
“Didn’t know we were taking on new apprentices,” the older woman commented.
“Somehow I don’t think she’s just here for the training.”
“Another groupie?”
No. This girl definitely wasn’t a groupie. For one thing, she sucked at flirting. No, this girl was different. There was something about her. But he had a business to run, and with everything happening with Ratface …
“Tomorrow when you enroll her, be sure to get her address, driver’s license, and social security number. Then run a check on her.”
“You’re the boss,” Agnes replied.
“Damn straight.”
Dekker stepped into his office, stopped and stuck his head out. “While you’re at it, find out where Ratface is holed up.”
“You want me to send someone out for him?” Agnes asked from her desk, the phone already perched on her shoulder.
“No I’ll handle him myself.” He gave Grant his word that he would do it personally. And he never went back on his word.
“Are you charging Grant?”
“Nah,” Dekker answered. “This one’ll be fun.”
CHAPTER 5
Alexis sipped her coffee. Her mouth puckered at the bitter taste. If she hadn’t been running late, she would have had time to stop for her mocha latte. Well, to be honest, if she hadn’t been so sore when she woke up. Every inch of her body ached. Even her fingers. It took all her energy just to wrap them around this lousy cup of coffee.
As if reading her mind, Nick set a large, steaming cup of mocha latte next to the two mug shots she had printed out earlier. Somehow, Nick always knew what she needed. He was always there, whether she wanted him to be or not. Today, she wanted him—or at least the mocha latte—he offered.
“Thanks.”
Nick leaned over her shoulder, studying the mug shots. “What’s up with these two?”
“Reed!” Beck barked from across the bull pen. “Report.”
Adrenaline suddenly masking her aches, Alexis rapidly gathered her papers and hurried into her lieutenant’s office. She went to shut the door, to find Nick entering as well.
Beck raised an eyebrow. “Something I can do for you, Detective?”
“I figured you might need some logistical support, is all,” Nick said ever so casually as he sat down before he could be dismissed. Really? She could only imagine Nick’s response if she tried a maneuver like that.
How Alexis wished that Beck would bounce Nick’s butt right out of that chair, but the lieutenant just shrugged off the intrusion and sat behind his desk.
“So what do you have, Reed?”
What could she do but sit down and start her report?
“Dekker’s first contact was with Reggie Hayes.” She went to set the mug shot down on the desk, but it was littered with more coffee cups than her own. Finally, she just handed the photo to her boss.
He quickly scanned the mug shot. “Ratface?”
“That’s the one.”
Nick held out his hand, and Beck handed her partner the photo. “Well, he didn’t get his name because of his beady eyes and pinched nose,” Nick commented. She hated the fact that he knew more about the guy off the top of his head than she got from his arrest record. Nick handed the photo back to her. “He got his name for ratting people out.”
She tried to pretend that Nick wasn’t even there as she turned back to Beck. “I walked in on an argument which ended rather abruptly.”
“How abruptly?”
“A muffled argument, and then a quick exit,” Alexis explained.
Nick frowned. “Did Travis threaten him?”
“Not exactly,” Alexis answered curtly.
“Intimidate him, then?” Nick pressed.
She turned to her partner. “Dekker is intimidating just by standing there, so yelling at someone, yeah, I’d say he intimidated Ratface.”
Beck held up a hand to stop Nick’s retort. “How about you tell us Dekker’s exact words, then?”
“Dekker alluded to the possibility that if Ratface screwed up, his family could look for him in the obituaries.”
“It’s probably safe to say that if Ratface ends up facedown, we’ve got our prime suspect,” Nick said.
Alexis knew how it sounded. Hell, she knew how she reacted when she heard it, but how often did people say flippant stuff like that and never really mean it? Dekker had made a joke of it. What if it hadn’t been a joke?
Beck put his hand out for the second photo. After Alexis handed it to him, the lieutenant put on his reading glasses for a closer look. “And who would this fine, upstanding citizen be?”
“Grant Walker.”
“Blade?” Beck said, letting his reading glasses fall to the end of their chain. “I thought he was still in the can.”
“Paroled three months ago.”
Nick’s frown only deepened. “What was he doing with Dekker?”
“Asking a favor.”
Beck whistled through his teeth. “A favor? Grant is a convicted arsonist with a suspected five bodies to his credit. What in the hell kind of problem would he need Dekker’s help with?”
“I don’t know,” Alexis said, wishing she had been able to gather way more intel. “They spoke in private.”
Lightning struck outside the window, flashing brightly against the darkened sky. A storm was rolling in faster than the morning news anticipated. Great. And she didn’t even bring an umbrella.
Thunder boomed as rain streamed down the glass behind Beck. “When do you see Dekker next?”
“Today at two.”
Beck rose to his feet. “Excellent. Two associates spotted on your first day. Not bad.”
“Sir,” Nick said as he stood. “Might I suggest that Alexis wear a wire this time in?”
The lieutenant looked at her. “It’s not a bad idea.”
“Um, not quite sure where I would put it,” Alexis stated.
Nick frowned. “I don’t …”
“Yeah, when training, I’m basically in a sports bra and spandex …”
That image seemed to give both men pause, and then Beck cleared his throat.
“No wire then. Got it.”
Alexis went to exit, but Nick wasn’t done yet. “At the least, sir, are we picking up Ratface?”
“Absolutely,” Beck said, nodding. “For the right price, he’ll roll on whatever information he has on Dekker.”
Nick rushed on. “Then wouldn’t it be prudent to have Alexis delay her next contact?” Nick flashed Alexis an apologetic frown. “If Reggie squeals, there’s no sense in risking Alexis’ safety any further.”
Alexis glared at Nick. Had he been brewing this plan to undermine her undercover work since seeing Ratface’s picture on her desk? Her partner took “defend and protect” a bit too far.
“Sir,” she countered. “We can’t count on one snitch turning up enough evidence for a conviction. If I don’t show up this afternoon, Dekker will never trust me.”
“You both have valid points,” Beck said as he led them out of his office. “Let’s see what Reggie offers up. If it’s a solid lead, you’re off the case. If it’s not, then we’ll go with the second contact. Let’s check back in at one.”
Trying to keep her anger in check, Alexis nodded sharply. She didn’t want to check back in at one, but there was no countermanding Beck.
Once the door was closed, she spun on Nick. “I have to give you credit. At least you didn’t bother stabbing me in the back. You did it right in front of me.”
Nick glanced around the station before grabbing Alexis’ arm and leading her around the corner. Guess he didn’t want a scene. But she was pissed enough that she didn’t care. Besides, how could it hurt her reputation any?
“Look, Alexis, I’m sorry you are pissed, but—”
She cut him off. “Do you have any faith in my abilities? At all?”
“Jesus, this has nothing to do with your competence, Alexis,” Nick replied. “I would have given the same recommendations if it were Grace on the case. Having an undercover cop wear a wire and getting him or her out as soon as humanly possible is pretty much standard operating procedure.”
Alexis crossed her arms. She found it hard to believe that, had it been Grace, Nick would have horned his way into a meeting.
Nick went on. “Maybe you could see that if you didn’t have so much ego involved.”
Anger flared through Alexis’ bruised muscles. “My ego has nothing—”
“Just look at who this guy hangs out with,” Nick interrupted. “Two convicted felons in the course of a day. And he’s only a technicality away from being one himself.”
“I can handle myself,” Alexis said, knowing that it sounded lame. Damn it, but Nick was right. What did it matter how they got Dekker—just that they got Dekker? She was loath to admit that she wanted it to be her hard work that got their man.
Nick put a hand on her arm. “I know you can. We all know you can. But Alexis, let us do our jobs, too.”
Ugh. She hated it when Nick was super-reasonable. Alexis liked arguing far better. If she kept it up, though, she would definitely get the “you doth protest too much” speech from him.
Finally, she sighed. “I get it. I just wish you would voice these concerns to me in private rather than in front of the lieutenant.”
He flashed a smile. “Got it.” He squeezed her arm before he let his hand fall away. “So let me make it up to you tonight. Dinner at The Huntsman’s?”
“Nick …” Alexis really didn’t want to have this conversation again.
But her partner’s smile just got wider as he backpedaled away from her. “How about 7:30? You know you want one of their porterhouses. My treat.”
“Okay,” she said. “Fine.”
She did like a good steak.
* * *
Dekker’s phone vibrated so hard against his nightstand that it bounced an empty water bottle right off the edge. He lay sprawled on his back across his bed in nothing but boxers. Just how he liked it. Unfortunately, his pit bull, Jaws, didn’t agree as he licked Dekker’s face in big, wet, and sloppy kisses. Somebody was an early riser.
&
nbsp; Dekker reached for the phone just as it stopped vibrating. At least one problem solved. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes.
The phone buzzed again.
“Damn it!” Dekker snatched his phone. “This better be good.”
“Whoa, Jesus,” the voice squeaked. “Calm down.”
Jaws laid his head across Dekker’s stomach. Absently, he scratched the supposedly fierce beast behind the ears as Max, his old fight promoter, gave him his pitch, again.
“Look. I told you,” Dekker answered. “I don’t do that shit anymore.”
“Come on. Just one more,” Max urged. “I’ll double your cut of the purse tonight. Win or lose.”
“Tempting, but no.”
Max’s tone got uncharacteristically serious. “Don’t force me to remind you that I was the only one who stood by you after you got tossed off the official tour.”
Dekker used the heel of his hand again to his temple. Maybe that fifteenth beer was one too many. “I’ll officiate, but that’s it.”
Max mumbled some “better than nothing” answer and hung up.
Dekker knew that everyone thought he was staying out of fighting on principle. In truth, the thought of getting back into the ring and strapping back on those gloves made his stomach turn. He was afraid of his opponents. He was afraid of what he would do to them. But no one seemed to care. Not with the millions that they could cash in on if Dekker came out of retirement.
Full Body Contact Page 4
