Loving Night: Dream Catcher Series ~ Book 2

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Loving Night: Dream Catcher Series ~ Book 2 Page 7

by Turner, Brynette L.


  “What does that mean for my relationship with Chaz?” Stephanie asked over the rim of her cup of tea.

  “It means you are more than just his spiritual rock. Rather than contrasting to balance him, you are now strongly aligned with his best traits. You probably think more like him than you ever have, and in that commonality is the new way of finding strength.” She pushed aside the remaining tortellini on her plate in favor of the sautéed broccoli.

  Stephanie was silent for a long time before asking whether or not that meant her gift was being dominated by Chaz’s aura, because she certainly didn’t feel that way. Phailin laughed.

  “I don’t think it’s possible for him to dominate you. In fact, to hurt you would mean destroying himself. He is so devoted that wherever there is a choice, he will always choose you. To the world, he appears in total control of all areas of his life. The reality is that his love for you influences everything he does. The fact that your aura is becoming more like his makes for an even clearer connection. This is why his best friend resents you; Sylvia thinks that you’ve made Chaz weak when the truth is that making you happy has brought him a level of completeness that she can’t comprehend. In that way, you have always been the stronger of the two.”

  “You mean spiritually, right?”

  “Isn’t all true strength built on our connection to our spiritual identity and acceptance of destiny?” She reached across the table to rest her hand on top of the other woman’s. “Chaz is growing more like you, just as you are growing more like him. The natural order in a relationship, and what every man’s psyche needs, is for the woman to need to rely on her man. That day is coming soon where you will need his strength.”

  Stephanie nodded and thought that she would have to wait to understand what Phailin was saying. In her mind, she already needed her husband.

  “What about the other issue?”

  “You mean your request for me to help keep you balanced? Of course I will. We’ll meditate together every Sunday evening to calm your restlessness and I’ll see what bundles of tea you’ll need to take home with you. You should meditate on your own everyday; seek clarity for your dreams. I think Victor might be right about you suppressing them. Do you remember the first time we talked about the connection between auras and astrology?

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “I’ve done new aura charts and I want you to contrast them against what your zodiac signs indicate about your personalities. It will take a few days if you take your time, but I’m hoping that some of your questions will be answered.”

  “Thank you.” She took the large envelope her friend had slid across the table and set it aside. “Now, on to lighter topics. How is your pregnancy coming along? I still can’t believe our children will be able to grow up together.”

  “I know!” A wide smile lit up the Asian woman’s face and a hand went to her belly. She was already wearing maternity tops. “We should make time to go clothes shopping. I found the most amazing store that has professional looking maternity wear. You’re going to need some soon with the way your boobs are pushing against that shirt.”

  Both women laughed.

  “I think Chaz has fallen in love with my new curves.”

  “I bet he has.”

  The rest of the evening was spent talking and laughing about subjects most pregnant women talk about. By the time Stephanie returned home, she was confident that everything in her life was as it should be.

  She sent Karen a text setting up a time to video-chat the next day so that she could share what she had discussed with Phailin. Then, fully relaxed, she slid into bed and easily drifted to sleep.

  CHAPTER 7

  Jazz music filled the space. Although the images were fuzzy, a full band played on a raised stage at one end of the room and people dressed in semi-formal attire were seated at tables with long black table cloths and gold candles for centerpieces. The scene was almost intimate with the mellow sound and low lighting. Sexily dressed servers—male and female—carried trays of drinks.

  Why did the atmosphere feel so heavy?

  A man at the far end of the bar seemed to be watching everything. Scruffy beard. Brown hair a little longer than was currently fashionable. Stocky. Tense. Anxious. He felt threatened. She also sensed the same tension Chaz had felt when he’d thought her safety was at risk during the case in Erie.

  A door near the bar opened and the man immediately stood and scanned the room. From behind him emerged a beautiful woman and two men who seemed to be laughing, but one was only pretending to be happy. He leaned into the man who had been previously seated and said something that sent the man out of the room. The trio crossed the room and settled onto a sofa in an area that was roped off. A VIP section? Immediately, another stocky man took up position to the side of the sofa but not close enough to be involved in any conversation.

  Why could Stephanie see so many details but not be able to clearly distinguish the facial features of the people seated on the sofa?

  As soon as that thought invaded the dream, it ended. After pondering for only a few minutes, she grabbed her cell phone and sent a text to Chaz.

  Stephanie: Dream

  Chaz: Call me. I won’t be able to talk but I want to hear the details and what you felt.

  Stephanie did as he requested. It was odd talking to a man who had only said hello and then gone silent. She couldn’t hear any background noise either and wondered whether her husband had muted his end of the call. Abruptly, he said thanks and was gone.

  A text came through just as Stephanie was getting settled under the covers.

  Chaz: I was watching at the same time. Did you recognize our friend?

  Stephanie’s brain stalled. Her fingers went cold around the plastic of the phone. It took several seconds to process what had just happened. While the details overall had been clearer than any recent dream, she hadn’t wanted to see the men who’d emerged from the room near the bar. She didn’t want to acknowledge Paul Watkins’ presence.

  Stephanie: Couldn’t see face clearly. Suppressing?

  Chaz: Maybe. You answered a question I had about him. Thanks. Get some sleep.

  Stephanie: Goodnight

  Chaz didn’t respond.

  After that, it was nearly impossible for Stephanie to relax. She wasn’t afraid for Chaz even though she knew what an evil man Paul Watkins was. What bothered her was that other people in the dream had been clearer than the three people who were apparently the most important. That must mean something. How could she trust her gift if she wasn’t allowing critical information to surface?

  No. She wouldn’t think that way. Chaz said she had answered a question. Something else about that scene must have been more significant. She took a deep breath and released it very slowly. She would have to learn to trust her husband as much as both of them trusted her gift.

  Her eyes popped open. That’s exactly what Chaz had said to her last summer when she wasn’t sure of the path their relationship should take. Trust him.

  She did. This is what he did for a living. And he loved her enough to keep himself safe.

  She took another deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to relax. Everything was as it should be.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Chaz pulled up a chair and sat close to Sydney so that he could get a better look at the transmissions coming from inside the jazz club. He was intent on studying the body language of Vanessa, Damien, and Paul. Something was off. There it was!

  Vanessa was fidgeting. That was at least the second time Damien had placed his hand on her wrist to make her sit still. She hadn’t impressed Chaz as being squeamish, so something must be very wrong. He watched her call the body guard over and whisper something to him. A few minutes later, a server appeared with a drink that looked like a double shot of whiskey or maybe bourbon. Straight. She took a hearty swallow before setting the glass on the low table in front of them.

  While Damien Granger was still seated beside her, his body was turned so that she was sl
ightly behind him. A protective position. What was Watkins saying to make them so uncomfortable? Was the undercover FBI agent really nervous, or was she playing along with whatever scene was unfolding?

  Vanessa wasn’t slouching, but her eyes were focused on her hands that were clasped in her lap. When she reached for her drink, Damien wrapped his fingers around her free hand. Their fingers laced tightly together. Possession. And he was tense.

  “Chaz, camera 4.” Sydney’s voice broke through her team leader’s thoughts.

  He turned to see several beefy men arriving outside of the club. He knew, by the way they carried themselves aggressively, that they were Watkins’ men. After a brief interrogation by the door attendants, they were allowed to enter. Chaz leaned closer to the monitor, trying to determine whether or not he had seen these men before.

  “Camera 8,” Sydney directed him.

  Chaz was surprised to see Officer Chris Jenkins getting into the elevator on the third level of the building. He usually stayed in the surveillance room during the hours the club was open. Attention was pulled back to Camera 4 as more men arrived. These men he’d definitely seen before. They worked for Granger.

  Something was very wrong.

  The club had only been open a week but was nearly full at midnight on a Thursday. The addition of the illegal sexual activities was delayed until Saturday, although many of the 12 girls who’d been hired were hanging out in the club.

  Chris emerged on the ground floor and turned right to go towards the hallway that led to the offices. The extra men who’d arrived were still congregating in the foyer.

  A moment later, Damien leaned into Vanessa and said something. She nodded, stood, and headed toward the bar. The body guard who’d been standing beside the sofa followed her to the room the threesome had come out of earlier. She entered; he positioned himself on the stool closest to the door. Another guard joined him as Austin moved toward an area where most of the women were seated, some having conversations with men who had come to the club alone.

  Austin said something to one of the women. She nodded and said something to the woman beside her. Austin smiled and reached a hand out to Jolette, the person Chaz had questioned him about, the one he’d taken upstairs. She stood and walked with him to the dance floor. From what Roy had been able to find out, Chaz was almost positive that she was connected to Paul Watkins.

  “The girls are leaving.”

  Sure enough, they were getting up one or two at a time and going to a door at the end of the room that Chaz hadn’t noticed before, probably because it was a pocket door that slid into the wall instead of swinging in or out. The women who were entertaining men were the only ones who hadn’t made a discreet exit.

  Meanwhile, the body language between Granger and Watkins was heated. At least, Damien’s was. His jaw clenched and his eyes held fire. Paul, on the other hand, projected the same calm fierceness Chaz had been exposed to when they’d dealt with one another. Whatever was being said, Damien Granger was no pushover.

  “Where did Jenkins go?”

  “There. Camera 3.” The back hallway. Chris was talking to more of Granger’s men. He stationed two at a rear entrance and another one outside of a door halfway down the corridor that he had just come out of. As Chris reached the foyer, Cameras 3, 4, and 9—all trained at entrances—went black. Since their mission was only designed to capture information on what occurred inside of the building, Chaz had no way of knowing whether other men were grouping in the rear parking lot. He had no way to determine whether everything was about to fall apart.

  “Shit!” Chaz leaned forward in his chair. All cameras in the club, the foyer, and outside of the elevators were still working. Chris reappeared in front of the elevator, used his key to enter and soon was stepping onto the third floor, presumably to return to the surveillance room.

  Granger and Watkins were still in the VIP area. The foyer showed two clusters of men seemingly in light conversations with themselves while their eyes kept tabs on the other group. Patrons of the club walked in and out around them, totally oblivious to the tense posturing.

  Damien stood abruptly, which pulled Chaz’s attention back to him. With a slight wave of his hand, two men appeared beside him. They all stepped to the side as Granger motioned for Paul Watkins to precede him from the room. Chaz’s eyes jumped to another monitor to see the obviously now unwelcome guest strolling through the foyer, his men immediately following him out of the building.

  “What the hell just happened?” Sydney asked as she leaned back in her chair.

  “Practice run.”

  “Huh?” She wrinkled her brow and stared at her team leader.

  “The guy that was eventually shown out was Paul Watkins. We probably just witnessed him threaten a hostile takeover and show Granger how vulnerable his operation was. I have no doubt that if Granger doesn’t give him what he wants, Watkins will be back with more men and nearly two years of undercover work will go to waste because Granger might not be standing when all of the smoke clears.”

  “Do you really think he’d attack the building?”

  “No, I don’t. He’s just making a statement that he could. If he wants to take Granger out, it will happen in some secluded location when the man will least expect it. But it’s more likely that he’d maim Granger and force him to accept whatever terms he’s offering.” Like shooting someone in the parking lot behind the rear entrance of their business, Chaz mused. That was how Watkins had handled him in Erie. His hand rubbed the spot where the bullet had penetrated his chest.

  Chaz was still watching the monitors. Austin appeared with Jolette by his side, his hand firmly gripping her upper arm. He approached the guards around Granger and handed her over to them. Chaz didn’t doubt for one second that she would be interrogated to find out exactly what she had told Watkins. Any vulnerability must be addressed.

  “They’re probably going to do a full security sweep as soon as the club closes,” Sydney informed Chaz. “That means our guy will have to cut our video feed so that it isn’t detected. We’ll probably be down for most of the night.”

  “Okay.” Chaz stood and stretched. “When the cameras go down, you can head out. I’ll write up a report and you can add to it when you come in tomorrow.” He watched her nod before he turned to grab a coffee cup out of the cabinet. It was going to be a long night.

  “Where do you think the girls went?” Sydney asked.

  “Bulletproof room. Austin told me about it but I never knew exactly where it was. I’m assuming the room by the bar must also be a safe cell. Granger didn’t hesitate to send his girlfriend there to make sure she was protected.”

  “I’d protect her, too,” the technician said so softly that Chaz almost didn’t hear her. A small smile tipped his lips. Sydney was beautiful in her own way. Jet black hair cut into a short, soft-spiked style. Wide dark eyes. High cheekbones. Full lips. Slim and muscular but definitely feminine. He briefly wondered whether the exotic Vanessa Long/Mitchell would be equally as attracted to the computer technician.

  The thought made him miss his gorgeous wife. She’d caught his attention the moment he’d seen her shopping with Karen, who had eventually introduced them. He closed his eyes and imagined running his fingers through her long brown hair, or kissing the column of her long neck while her now-ample breasts heaved with staggered breaths. Stephanie was incredibly sexy. Being neither slim nor voluptuous, she was perfectly in the middle with enough curves to hold on to and limbs long enough to wrap around him. He sighed and wished this case was over so that he could go home.

  He stared into the coffee swirling around his spoon. He needed to keep focused.

  “You know she’s FBI, right?” Chaz turned to stare at Sydney who was still watching the monitors. “We were in the academy together.”

  “Then, I can trust you to watch out for her, right?”

  “Definitely.” Sydney turned from the monitors for only a second to give Chaz a brief smile. “Should I assume our team doesn
’t know?”

  “That would be a safe assumption.”

  “Secret’s safe with me.” The video screens all went to black and she sighed. She shut everything down. “Oh, well. Guess I’ll see ya tomorrow.” With that, she rose, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door.

  “Sydney.” Chaz waited for her to look at him. “I set up an emergency exit for her. Let’s hope she won’t need it.” She nodded and the left.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The safe house was quiet without any monitors humming or people moving around. Chaz had an opportunity to sit and digest everything that had happened.

  Stephanie’s phone call confirmed that Austin wasn’t a dirty cop. He’d been genuinely concerned about what was going on in that private room that Chaz suspected was a safe cell. Austin was truly interested in protecting the women, which he wouldn’t have been if he’d known ahead of time what Paul Watkins was up to. Additionally, the fact that Austin kept Jolette from being sequestered with the other women, or slipping away unobserved, indicated they were not working together to help Watkins. One uncertainty resolved.

  There was obviously no way Damien Granger expected Paul Watkins to make whatever move he had, which meant the two men couldn’t have been working together to possibly jointly run the brothel. No, this was Granger’s business and he wasn’t about to let Watkins swoop in from Chicago and push him out. Not for the first time, Chaz wondered where Granger’s venture fit in with the objectives of the Travis family that he worked for. Maybe they were elevating him and the brothel was his to run independent of them.

  One thing was obvious: Granger believed in protecting his investment. The fact that he’d gotten the women out of the room in case violence erupted meant they could trust him to take care of them. Getting any of them to talk against him would be difficult. The Kentucky State Police would have to start identifying them and digging into their backgrounds. Without something to hold over their heads, these were not women who would turn into State witnesses against their employer.

 

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