Only then did I shoot Santou a look of withering scorn. His eyes briefly held mine before I angrily pulled away. I could already tell what was going on. I should have realized the moment I caught sight of Billy Paw dressed in a plain gray suit: it was standard-issue FBI garb. I was clearly facing a lynch mob who were about to pull the plug on my case. That would happen over my dead body.
“I take it you recognize me?” Tolliver patronizingly flashed his badge in front of my face.
“Yeah. I’m sorry to say, you look better as Billy Paw.”
Tolliver clucked his tongue and slid his ID back in his jacket pocket. “Now, now. Don’t be a sore loser, Porter.”
I wanted to punch the guy smack in his arrogant kisser. “Maybe I’m missing something, but when did this become a game that you’ve won? And by the way, do you have one of those G-men badges, too?” I fired at Santou.
Jake pulled out his ID and threw it to me. Only a twitch near his mouth betrayed that he genuinely felt sorry about what was taking place.
Santou’s ID burned fiercely hot in my hands. His likeness stared at me with his predatory gaze, battle scars, and steamy sexuality.
“You take a lousy picture,” I remarked, and tossed the badge back. Damn, I was mad!
“Face it: you fucked up, Porter. You should have listened to Santou when he warned you to stay away. Or at least to Billy Paw, Jr.” Tolliver patted the .45 that sat holstered beneath his armpit. “As it is, we’ve had to waste precious time checking to make sure you weren’t really crooked. We’re talking a big boo-boo on your part. It’s one that you’re now going to have to pay for.”
“Why is that?” Where did this guy get off making threats? And why wasn’t Charlie sticking up for me?
“Because you’re screwing with our investigation,” Tolliver coolly responded.
“I have every right to investigate a case dealing with the illegal trade in paddlefish,” I replied, choosing to play dumb.
Tolliver shot straight to the heart of the matter. “Not without the proper authorization, you don’t. You never got clearance to work undercover. Plus, you’ve situated yourself in the middle of our investigation on the white slave trade!”
“Goddammit to hell, Bronx! Why didn’t you tell me what you’d plopped those dogs of yours into?” Hickok barked. “Haven’t I always said not to put your foot down before checking exactly where it is that you’re stepping?”
“Agent Porter deserves more credit than that. Don’t think for one second she didn’t know what she was doing,” Tolliver retorted. “That’s why we’re dealing with this mess. We were making good headway until Porter stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong.”
“Please, let’s give credit where credit is due,” I returned the compliment. “The only headway you’ve been making is perfecting your meat loaf recipe and learning to grill peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”
Hickok’s lips quivered and a snort escaped.
“I’m glad you’re whooping it up, Grandpa,” Tolliver snapped. “Especially knowing what this little prank is probably going to do to your retirement.”
That shut Charlie up.
Tolliver turned his animosity back to me. “The problem is, you’re trying to pretend to be something you’re not.”
“And what would that be?” I retorted, knowing full well where this was headed.
“You’re living out some fantasy that you’re a female James Bond. Well, here’s a wake-up call. You’re nothing more than a glorified game warden who should be answering phones and fielding investigations to qualified agents.”
“Gee, I bet you wouldn’t be half so mad were it anyone other than a female U.S. Fish and Wildlife agent who not only stumbled upon this case, but also managed to gain Galinov’s confidence. Apparently that’s something the FBI hasn’t been able to do,” I responded with a wicked smile. “From what I can tell, Billy Paw is dismissed from the room every time the subject of business comes up!”
“All right, you hotheads! That’s enough!” Hickok broke in, knowing it was Tolliver who needed protection.
“No way! She’s on a roll,” Santou declared, ending his silence. “Say whatever’s on your mind, Porter. I’m sure you think Galinov’s got a problem with me, too, so go ahead. Give it your best shot.”
I was taken aback until I realized Santou probably knew I needed to vent my rage.
“Must be the Russki just don’t like coonass Cajuns,” Charlie smartly cut me off. “All right, enough of this crap. Let’s get down to business. What you don’t know, Bronx, is that there’s been another murder.”
A sickening feeling rolled over me. Please don’t let it be Tatyana, I prayed, worried Galinov had somehow discovered that I’d talked to her. “Who was it?”
“A fisherman snagged Woody Hardy’s body near Chickasaw Bluffs early this morning,” Hickok said with a near imperceptible shake of his head.
It suddenly felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, and my legs grew woozy. Only Santou’s steady gaze helped keep me standing. “But I was with him just last night.”
Tolliver expertly moved in for the kill. “Yeah, you’re a real good-luck charm, Porter. So far two of your contacts have died on you. But don’t worry; you’re about to get the chance to redeem yourself. You’ve been temporarily reassigned to work for the FBI. Think of it as your reward for worming your way in so tight with Galinov.”
“What!” I sputtered, and turned to Hickok for help. “Can they do that?”
Charlie’s hands balled into fists and he nodded.
“You bet your sweet ass we can,” Tolliver fired back.
“Sorry, chère. But the FBI outranks Fish and Wildlife on these matters,” Santou added consolingly.
“Butch and Sundance are right,” Hickok seconded. “I just received orders from the head honchos at Fish and Wildlife that you’re to cooperate with the FBI and do whatever they want.”
Absolutely not!
A smug expression swam across Tolliver’s mug, and I knew he planned to castrate my case. No way in hell would I let him do that.
“Fine,” I acquiesced. “But I’ll also continue to do my own work.”
Tolliver pointed his finger at me like a gun. “That’s where you’re wrong. The only case you have is the one I tell you to work on.”
I glanced at Charlie.
“Hickok can’t gallop to your aid. Here’s a little incoming grenade: for the time being, I’m your boss.”
My face must have registered the way I felt.
“Hey, hotshot! Maybe you can get away with crap at a rinky-dink agency like Fish and Wildlife. But at the FBI, the game is played by different rules. Galinov has to be taken down before you trip up and make any mistakes—which means you’re gonna get the information that we want pronto.”
“So that’s why I’ve been reassigned. Because I’m doing such a bad job,” I scoffed.
But Tolliver refused to take the bait. “You’re going to call Galinov right now and set up a meeting for tonight.”
“What? You expect me to pull this off in one evening?” I asked incredulously.
Even Santou seemed surprised. “Wait a minute, Ed. I thought we were going to let this thing play out naturally.”
“The plan’s changed. If Galinov gets a whiff that something’s going on, he’ll immediately bolt. I haven’t kowtowed to that bastard for this long just to let him slip away. Besides, Sergei thinks that Porter here is his little Russian Priscilla. She can play that angle to the hilt.”
I was left with no choice but to agree. “What exactly is it that you want?”
“You’re going to get him to tell you all about how the girls are smuggled over. I also want to know what brothels he’s sold them to here in the States,” Tolliver instructed.
“Santou and I can already give you some of that information,” I volunteered.
“Yeah. But you’re gonna provide us with rock-solid evidence that we can take to court,” Mr. Clean said.
; “And how do you expect me to do that?” I asked, immediately suspicious.
Tolliver played his last hand. “Because you’ll be wearing a wire to capture each precious gem on tape.”
So that was it. I was to be set up as bait. What bothered me even more was that Fish and Wildlife would so willingly roll over.
Santou sharply turned to Tolliver. “Hold on a second, bud. There was no mention of a wire. You know damn well Galinov always pats me down, what makes you think he won’t do the same to her?”
“Because she’s his ‘hunka hunka burning love.’ Ain’t that right, Priscilla? He’d never imagine the girl of his dreams would turn out to be his devil in disguise,” Tolliver jeered. “If that’s a problem, I can take you off the case right now, Santou. I’m sure headquarters will understand. After all, she is your old girlfriend.”
“Anyone ever tell you what a sonofabitch you are?” Jake angrily lashed out.
“All the time,” Tolliver retorted, looking mighty pleased.
“Hey, I’m the one who hasn’t yet agreed to this,” I interrupted.
“Oh, but you will,” Tolliver assured me. “You live for your work, Porter. Besides, don’t think of it as a job for us. You’re doing it for the greater good of the Sisterhood. Two million women and children are victimized by traffickers each year. Or don’t you give a flying fuck about that?”
I cared more than he’d ever know. What I hated was having to obey Tolliver.
“Now make the call,” he commanded.
A tape recorder was already attached to the phone.
I dialed Galinov’s number. “Sergei? It’s Rachel. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, no my little Priscilla. In fact, I dreamed of nothing but you last night, and now here you are calling! I must apologize for what happened. Billy Paw can be totally useless—it’s only my good nature that keeps him around. But I promise to make it up. When can I see you?”
“How about tonight? Perhaps we can pick up where we left off.”
“What a wonderful idea! That will also keep you from going out on the river. You’re far too precious a commodity to risk.”
I imagined Woody floating facedown, being reeled in like a fish. I wondered if Galinov had given the order and who had carried it out.
“Why don’t you come for dinner this evening around nine o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.” I hung up and turned to Tolliver. “It seems you’ll get one last shot to practice your meat loaf recipe.”
Tolliver flashed a thin smile. “Wear pants tonight so that we can hide the wire, and leave your gun at home. It’ll look like you trust him. Oh, and choose a top showing plenty of cleavage again.”
“And whose entertainment would that be for? Yours or Galinov’s?”
“Just be here at five o’clock sharp, so that we can wire you up and test the equipment. I can’t be gone long or Galinov will wonder where I am.”
“Yeah, I noticed you’re kept on a short leash. I’ll have to suggest he also get you a muzzle.”
Tolliver grabbed my arm as I turned to leave. “By the way, you never thanked me for last night.”
I pulled away, hating his touch. “What are you talking about?”
His laugh rang coarse in my ears. “Have you forgotten already? I saved your butt. If I hadn’t dropped that teapot when I did, you’d have been the caviar on Galinov’s toast.”
I coldly stared at the man before taking my leave.
Twenty-three
I spent the day thinking about power and its games. It all came down to a matter of who had it and who did not. This time I was on the receiving end, being twisted. I didn’t like the feeling at all. The phone rang and I answered to hear Jake’s voice.
“Hey, chère. How you holding up?”
“Let’s see. I’ve had my case sabotaged and am preparing to be sacrificed on the FBI’s altar. How do you think I feel?”
“Listen, Rachel. I did what I could to keep you out of this. You wouldn’t listen, and strings were pulled over which I had no control. But I’ll be nearby. There’s no way I’ll let anything happen to you.”
I could feel Santou’s heat burning straight through the phone wire.
“I promise to keep you safe.”
Silly me. I actually believed him. “I’ll see you at five o’clock.”
I picked my clothes as if choosing what to wear to my funeral. Black jeans seemed apropos. I added a black cashmere top with a plunging neckline, making me look like a black widow spider. Honey might be good for catching flies, but when it came to trapping men, underwire bras were better bait.
Then I headed to the Blue Mojo, hoping Boobie would cook me a mid-afternoon lunch.
Boobie issued a whistle as his eyes took in my outfit. “Good God, girl. That man of yours don’t stand a chance tonight. What you tryin’ to do? Get him rattled enough to marry you?”
“No. I have other plans for this evening. Any chance I can get some food first?”
Boobie warily nodded. “I’ll heat a little something from lunch. But I ain’t feedin’ you too much; I don’t want you poppin’ outta that thing.”
The “little something” consisted of chicken dumplings, candied yams, and buttered squash.
Boobie lit a cigarette as I finished eating and emitted a cloud of smoke. “You know, I been on this earth a long time, li’l girl, and I’m getting a feelin’ you’re about to place yourself in some real bad danger. That moon I tole you about last night? Well, my bones tell me this evening it’ll be full and probably touching the ground. It’s the type of night that breeds mischief and murder. I’d hate to think of that pretty face of yours all bruised and broken, lyin’ somewhere waiting to be found.”
I looked closely at the man and realized Boobie was older than I’d imagined. It was as if he willed me to see his age, allowing a road map of lines to spring out on his face.
“Why, Boobie. Are you trying to scare me?”
“Yes, I am. There’s evil out there and you’re too damn cocky for your own good,” he declared with a stubborn tilt of his chin. “You keep your rear end planted until I come back.”
He headed into the kitchen, and returned a few moments later.
“Here. Hide this on you,” he instructed, slapping a Ziploc baggie in my hand.
“What is it?” I asked, holding it up to the light.
“Voodoo powder to keep you safe.”
The bag’s contents were a reddish-orange color and as fine as grains of sand.
“Your voodoo powder looks like cayenne pepper.” I chuckled.
“Listen here, li’l girl. The way you’re dressed, you better hope it’s voodoo powder. Any man puts his hands in the wrong place, you be sure and use that stuff.”
“Thanks, Boobie.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and headed out the door. It was almost five o’clock.
“You’re late,” Tolliver snapped as I walked into Fish and Wildlife’s office. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
I figured as much. That’s exactly why I did it.
Santou stood in a corner, his mood black enough to fill a Louisiana swamp, while Hickok sat behind a desk dotted with surgical tape, an Ace bandage, and a plastic spoon. Nearby lay a small transmitter out of which two thin wires sprouted. One had a miniature microphone attached to its end. My guess was the other line worked as an antenna.
“Galinov thinks I’m out buying groceries for tonight’s dinner. That doesn’t leave us much time,” Tolliver chided. “Let’s get down to work. Take off your pants.”
“Excuse me?” I responded sharply. Who did this guy think he was? The Hugh Hefner of the FBI?
Tolliver emitted a bark of a laugh. “How else do you suppose we’re going to wire you up?”
Santou pushed away from the wall with the fixed resolve of a bullet. “Okay, that’s enough. Porter might feel more comfortable with some privacy and only one of us helping her.”
Hickok planted his hands on the desk and stood up. “I agree with the
coonass. Bronx don’t need three of us here playing peek-a-boo just to tape a coupla damn wires on her.”
Tolliver’s eyes darted from Santou’s face to my own, with the cunning of a weasel. “Well, well. Could it be that love springs eternal?” He slapped the transmitter into Santou’s palm with the rap of a chastising ruler. “Hickok and I’ll go out for a few minutes and get some coffee. Don’t take too long; there’s no time in the schedule for a quickie.”
“Have you always been such an ass? Or is it your special FBI training?” I sweetly inquired as he and Hickok walked past.
“Just put the damn thing on!” He slammed the door behind them.
“Nice work, chère. I do believe you’ve made an enemy for life,” Santou grinned and shook his head in amusement. “He had no idea what he was getting into when he took you on. Here, let’s get started.”
Santou’s fingers smoothly unbuttoned my pants and released the zipper. He pulled the trousers down my hips, and they slid to the floor. That was all it took for my cheeks to begin to burn, inflamed by both desire and embarrassment. Santou’s complexion equally deepened, followed by the quickening of his breath. I didn’t hesitate, but stepped out of the trousers as if I were shedding a second skin. What had begun as an unpleasant task was turning into a surprisingly arousing session.
I stood before Santou, dressed only in a revealing sweater and a tiny pair of black bikini panties. We wordlessly looked at each other and his fingers reached out, gently cupping my rear end. Then he firmly pulled me toward him with one delicious, swift motion. But rather than making love, what followed was a much more subtle seduction.
Jake slid to his knees, his hair teasingly brushing my stomach, to place the transmitter against my calf. He snuggly covered it with the Ace bandage and used three strips of surgical tape to hold it in place. Then he sensuously snaked the two slender wires up my leg and under my panties, his fingers igniting brush fires wherever they touched my flesh.
“Lift your sweater,” he instructed, his voice as rough as if he’d just chain-smoked two packs of Camels.
I exposed my bare stomach.
Black Delta Night Page 18
