The Lucky Cat

by L. M. Somerton

  “We can pick up the discussion about your need for discipline later, when I’m off duty.” Gage put his phone on the table. “Swipe left. Stop if you see something you recognize. It’s a work phone, not personal, so don’t get excited.”

  An array of antiques danced in front of Landry’s eyes as he scrolled through Gage’s extensive gallery of pictures. Oil paintings followed porcelain followed furniture and jewelry. “I don’t recognize anything…” Landry kept scrolling but much of the inventory was far too high-end for Mr. Lao. “Some of this stuff is absolutely gorgeous. The boss comes up with some great pieces, but this is way beyond his budget. Wait…” Landry went back to the picture of a gold and amethyst necklace. Dating from the early 1900s, it looked familiar. “This one… The lighting isn’t great but I think we might have this. Oh God, is the boss in trouble?” His heart fell. Mr. Lao had been good to him.

  “Can you lay your hands on it?” Gage asked.

  “Sure. Just give me a minute.” Landry shoved his chair back. Most of the decent jewelry was kept in a locked cabinet in the far corner of the store, behind two bookcases full of first editions. Mr. Lao always stashed stock that might tempt a smash and grab in the least accessible parts of the shop. Shimmying his way between teetering piles of furniture, Landry took the cabinet’s key from his pocket. The necklace was on the bottom shelf, nestling on the black velvet lining of its leather-covered box. Seeing it again, Landry knew it was identical to the one in the picture. He took it from its place, relocked the cabinet then dragged his feet a bit getting back to Gage. “Here it is.”

  “That’s the one.” Gage pushed the box back to Landry before taking a huge bite of muffin. “These aren’t bad.”

  “Not bad? What are you talking about? I just outed my boss as a jewel thief and all you’re interested in is a muffin.” Landry grabbed his coffee and took a long swig, wishing it contained a splash of rum.

  “A small test of your honesty.”

  “You’re making no sense whatsoever.” Landry felt like stamping his foot but made do with scowling.

  “I seeded the photographs with legal items from the various shops I’ve been visiting. If you hadn’t picked it out, I would have suspected your motives. A colleague of mine took a picture of the necklace a few days ago.”

  Landry gaped. “You… You… Pain in the ass! You could have given me a heart attack.”

  Gage chuckled. “It was worth it to see your face. Did you know your earlobes go pink when you’re nervous?”

  “They do not!” Landry pulled on one soft lobe. “And quit looking at my ears, you freak.” He sat down, groping in the paper bag for a cookie. “After that, you owe me coffee and baked goods every day this week.”

  “Wanna see me again, huh?”

  “You can just drop them off.” Unaccustomed to the shy, awkward feeling he was experiencing, Landry picked at the chocolate chips in his cookie.

  “I don’t think so. We need to go out on a date so I can explain to you how relationships between Dominants and submissives work.”

  “I haven’t seen you around the local scene… How did you find out?”

  “Research. You’d be surprised how much I know about you.”

  “Have you been following me?”

  “On and off over the last few weeks. The department has been keeping tabs on antique store staff across the city. I took a special interest in you after hearing about some of the places you frequent. Fond of leather and latex, aren’t you?” Gage lifted his coffee in a toast.

  “I… Maybe?” Landry scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the parquet flooring. “Are you really a Dom, or just playing?”

  “Through and through the genuine article.”

  Landry pictured Gage in full leather regalia. His mouth dried and his cock jerked. He didn’t know where to put himself.

  “What time do you close on Saturday?”

  “You’re the detective. You work it out.”

  “I hope you enjoy standing, because by the time I’m done with your rebellious ass, you won’t want to sit on it. I’ll pick you up here at closing time.” Gage pushed his chair back, not waiting for a response. He strolled through the store like he owned the place.

  Shell-shocked, Landry watched him go, wondering what had just happened. He shook his head. “No way he’s gonna show.” He grabbed the bag of leftover treats to take back to the counter along with his half-finished coffee. “More’s the pity.”

  Chapter Two

  Gage still had a smile on his face when he got back to his car. Landry Carran promised to be a challenge of the kind that Gage relished. He couldn’t wait to tie him down then tease him until he screamed for mercy. “Happy days.” He had time to make a few date arrangements before he had to meet up with his long-suffering partner and he knew the perfect place to take his brat.

  My brat. Has a nice ring to it. He put the car in drive then pulled into the steady stream of traffic. His destination was only a few blocks away but he didn’t want to waste time by walking there and back. The Bowline took bookings in person, no exceptions, even for him. His luck was in, because he snagged a rarer-than-hens’-teeth parking spot as someone pulled out right in front of him. The restaurant was down a narrow alley off the main drag. As always, the walkway was immaculate and smelled vaguely of Simple Green. No doubt some unfortunate sub had been out scrubbing down the concrete in case a speck of dirt had dared land there. Grinning at the thought, Gage pushed the bell next to a steel-banded door, which swung open seconds later.

  “We’re closed.”

  “I’m a detective. I worked that one out for myself.” Gage smirked.

  “Gage! It’s been months since you graced us with your presence. Get your cute ass in here. Diego has coffee on.”

  “Hey, Mitch, I can’t stay long. I’m working. Just stopped by to make a reservation.”

  “Diego will make my life a fucking misery if you don’t come in, man. One coffee won’t kill you, though I guess Sancha might. That squirt-sized hellion still your partner?”

  “Yep, and I’m still breathing with all my bits intact. She loves me.”

  “She tolerates you ’cause you’re pretty and you write up good reports. She told me so.”

  “You wanna be sleeping on the couch? Because I can turn around and leave you to explain my departure to Diego.”

  “I take it all back. You’re ugly as sin and can barely string two words together. Better?”

  “Honey, what are you doing out here?” A face peered around Mitch’s bulk. “Gage, sweetie! Is this gorilla of mine keeping you on the doorstep?” Diego gave Mitch a glare. “Come in!”

  “Hey, Diego.” After a quick look to Mitch for permission, Gage gave Diego a hug. “Still keeping your Dom in line, I see.”

  “Always.” Diego grabbed his hand then towed him across the hall to a glass door that granted access to the restaurant. “Take the weight off. I’ll get coffee.”

  “Always best to just do as he says.” Mitch shrugged.

  There were several couches arranged around low tables where customers could wait and peruse the menus until their tables were ready. Gage parked his butt on one of them and Mitch joined him.

  “So, you want to book a table?”

  “Yeah, for two on Saturday night if you have one. I know I’m pushing my luck at such short notice, so don’t worry if you don’t have anything open.”

  “As it happens, we had a cancellation, so you’re in luck. You know Ben Frost, right?”

  Gage nodded.

  “Well, as of this morning, his sub Carl has had gall bladder surgery.”

  “Ah, well that would put a damper on weekend plans. Still, Ben will love playing nurse for a few weeks. He’s into medical kink in a big way, if I remember rightly.”

  “I mentioned stirrups to Diego once and, after he’d made some joke about riding a cowboy to save a horse, he regaled me with a graphic story about his sister giving birth, which he witnessed thanks to her other half being away on
an oil rig at the time.” Mitch shuddered. “Never going there.”

  Gage was saved from thinking about that any further by Diego arriving with a tray of coffee, which he placed on the table before kneeling at Mitch’s side. Mitch ruffled his hair. “Thanks, love. Guess what? Gage booked a table.”

  “Oh! Oh wow. Who’s the lucky boy?” Diego handed out their beverages.

  “That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?” Gage sipped his drink and gave a contented sigh.

  “You’re mean!” Diego pouted. He had the lips for it, lush and pink. He batted his lashes over warm brown eyes.

  “That might work on Mitch, but not on me.” Gage smiled. “Nice try, though.”

  “It doesn’t work on me either,” Mitch whined.

  “Yes, it does.” Diego and Gage spoke in unison, following up with a high five.

  “You know you’re going to pay for that, right?” Mitch gave Diego’s hair a tug, tilting his head back to give him access for a kiss. If Diego had a smart retort prepared, it was effectively silenced.

  Gage watched them, a little jealous. He wanted what they had. Well fuck. That was a new thought. He’d never considered anything long-term before, had always been quite content to play the scene. Something had changed. Landry. “That little shit is in my head.” He groaned. He’d only just talked to the man, and he already wanted to know so much more about him. The things he’d read about Landry, his habits, and more, had only served to heighten the desire to meet the brat. And doing that, Gage discovered that what he’d read on paper didn’t even scratch the surface. Landry was funny, and it was obvious that even though he was submissive, he wasn’t going to be a pushover. Not that Gage wanted that. He liked the sassy streak Landry displayed. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

  His friends stopped necking long enough to nod and give him sympathetic glances.

  “You’re on the precipice, my friend.” Mitch patted Gage’s shoulder. “It happened to me too. One day you’re free and easy, letting your kink roam wild, the next some brat with mind control powers is taming you. Turning you into a domesticated Dom.”

  “Domesticated!” Diego about fell over laughing.

  Gage groaned. “I need air. I’ll see you guys Saturday night.” He shook Mitch’s hand. “If there’s any justice in this world, I’ll expect Diego to be carrying a pillow with him.”

  “That’s a sure bet.” Mitch pulled Diego over his lap, working his pants down to expose his pert behind. “You can watch if you like.”

  “Tempting, but I gotta run or Sancha will be delivering a verbal spanking at the very least. I’ll let myself out.”

  As he made his way toward the exit, Gage glanced around the restaurant to see if anything had changed since his last visit. As far as he knew it was the only eatery in the state, outside of the club scene, that catered specifically to the BDSM community. Every table had its quirks and they were all set in individual booths. Some were on platforms that had to be reached by steps. There were also two on a mezzanine and one in a pit. Three could be laid for a small group but most were tables for two. Plants and trellising helped provide privacy, screening the settings from each other.

  Diego and Mitch only opened three nights a week. The Bowline was their hobby, their passion. Diego loved to cook but also ran his own surveying business. Mitch could burn water but traveled the world buying wine for the best hotels and restaurants in the country. They’d made their dream a reality and created a place where friends and the community could be themselves over a top-quality meal. Gage wasn’t aware of anywhere else he could take a date, chain him to his seat and torture his cock while a waiter asked him to taste the wine with a completely straight face. He grinned. He couldn’t wait to introduce Landry to the delights of Diego’s cooking and everything else that The Bowline had to offer.

  As he closed the door behind him, Gage checked his watch. “Fuck.” He sprinted down the alley, dove into his car and peeled away like he’d been called to a multiple homicide. If he was late to meet his partner, his own death was assured. Sancha Hernandez was the scariest female on the planet. He loved her to bits, and she’d saved his sorry hide on more occasions than he could count, but he did not want to spend the rest of the day in a car with her in a bad mood. The last time he’d pissed her off, she’d denied him coffee for an entire night’s stake out. The woman was cruel. She’d make a good Domme, but as far as Gage knew her love life was as vanilla as her favorite ice cream flavor. Her husband was a paramedic and the two of them juggled shift working and two rambunctious kids with the help of an extended family that owned a huge holiday complex in Cancun. Gage had been the beneficiary of several complimentary vacations thanks to how much Sancha’s mom loved him. He was definitely her favorite, over and above her eldest daughter, probably because she had five girls and no sons. Gage was the stand-in, something he had no problem with.

  He arrived at the Copper Kettle diner with three minutes to spare. As always, he parked the car in one of the staff spaces around back then made his way in through the employee entrance. Pops, the owner, traded parking for loud announcements that there were cops amongst his clientele. Mitch put the lack of crime in the area down to Pops’ two hundred and fifty pound, tattooed, heavily muscled bulk and his membership of The Raiders, a local biker gang, more than his or Sancha’s presence. Pops, however, was convinced that having two detectives as his best customers was good karma. His gang might have a bad-ass rep, but they were more into good deeds for the local children’s hospital than tearing up the neighborhood. Pops himself cried buckets over reruns of Lassie and had his own pack of adopted strays that ranged from a miniature terrier cross to something that resembled a wolf.

  Sancha sat in the same booth as always, facing the door. Her usual chocolate milkshake sat in front of her, untouched. That meant she hadn’t long arrived because she had a tendency to inhale anything that had been in close proximity to a cocoa bean. Gage slid into the opposite seat and gave her his most disarming grin. “Hey, partner, how was your morning?”

  “You’re cutting it fine and my morning was…frustrating. I had no idea how much ancient furniture there was for sale in this city, or how many antique geeks. I have learned things today that I will never need to know. Were you aware, for example, that you should only clean bronze sculptures with a soft cloth, toothbrush or the nozzle brush of your vacuum cleaner? Usual waxes and polishes contain cleaning agents which can affect the patina of the bronze. I have to buy myself some Mohawk Blue Label Paste Wax, apply a thin coat then sit and look at it for six to twelve hours before polishing.” She grimaced.

  “Fascinating.” Gage tried not to laugh. “Have you ordered yet?”

  “How about some sympathy? I suppose you spent the morning fluttering your lashes at vacuous blondes and being served milk and fucking cookies.”

  “Not quite,” Gage admitted, thinking of the blond he had met and grabbing the laminated menu. “I got through my three locations but came up with zip.”

  “Anyone try to hide anything from the pictures?”

  “Nope. Seems like the antique dealers of this fair city are honest. At least the ones we’ve visited so far—or they’re a lot savvier than we give them credit for. To be fair, I think I got genuine reactions this morning.”

  “Me too. The snooty bronze guy accused me of trying to frame him but mellowed after a bit of gratuitous flattery.”

  “That must have hurt.” Gage chuckled.

  “Oh, it did.” Sancha rolled her eyes then took a long slurp of milkshake through her green and white striped straw. “I don’t get paid enough for that kind of suffering.”

  “I appreciate your sacrifice. Where the hell’s Pops?”

  As if by magic, Pops ambled over to the table. He shoved a mug of coffee in Gage’s direction. “Why do you bother looking at that menu, Gage?” Pops asked. “You always order the same damn thing.”

  “Maybe I want to mix it up a little today.”

  “Do you?” Pops tapped a w
ell-chewed pen against his notepad.

  “I’ll take the usual.” Gage sighed and put the menu down.

  Sancha snorted down her straw, creating bubbles in her shake. “Green salad for me please, Pops. Extra-large curly fries and a cheeseburger on the side.”

  “Yes, ma’am, coming right up.”

  Sancha blew him a kiss and he walked away with a goofy grin on his face.

  “Slut.” Gage took a swig of coffee. “I’ve had way too much caffeine so far today.”

  “Is there such a thing? And yep, there’s not much I won’t do for one of Pops’ burgers, so sue me.”

  Gage shook his head and pushed his mug away. “So what’s the plan for this afternoon? Keep going with the antiques stores? I still have a few on my list.”

  “I think we have to. We need to treat them all the same and you never know what might turn up. But, I get the feeling these guys are several steps ahead of us. Doesn’t mean we can skip the legwork. We’ll reconvene back at the station this evening and decide on next steps.”

  “You know, I just don’t get it. Why buy something so hot that you can never show it to anyone? What’s the point of a painting that sits in a vault, or a piece of jewelry that no one ever wears?”

  “Private collectors like these are obsessive. They’ll do anything to own what they want. Just having it is enough. There is some serious psychological damage going on with these people. They want what no one else can have.”

  “Two security guards were gunned down during that exhibition heist in Tokyo. The buyers are just as guilty as the thieves.”

  “And the buyers are here in the good old US of A, which makes them our problem. Dealers are importing all the time. Sooner or later, we’ll come across one that is less than lilywhite. What we’re doing at the moment is just the sounding out process. I trust my gut. There’s a lead around the corner, I know it. Now, no more shoptalk. Let’s eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Gage mimicked Pops’ deferential tone, knowing he was safe from Sancha’s ire as their food arrived. She’d no doubt get her revenge later. In the meantime, a plate of fried chicken had his name written all over it.