“Damn, darlin’, you’re good.” This came from T.
She was too flabbergasted to appreciate the compliment.
Cap didn’t let it slide, however. “Why do you think I let her hang around so much?” He came to his feet, bouncing Caleb, who had started to get fussy again. “Meg, I think our boy here needs to be fed.”
Before ‘our boy’ passed his lips, the baby’s shrill cry rent the air. As Megan reached to take a squirming, demanding and clearly unhappy Caleb into her arms, Sean jumped in to finish explaining, “He doesn’t know what we know, Angie. Only club members would see the connection. If he finds out, he’s gone like the wind.”
“I knew he was crooked the day I watched him walk into HQ. I’m just surprised you all didn’t kick him out sooner. He’s not known for playing well with others and believes rules are made for everyone except him.”
Megan snorted as she stood. “That’s putting it mildly,” she added while rocking and bouncing the child in one arm as she dug in the diaper bag with the other. A moment later, she pulled out a pacifier, popped it in her son’s mouth and sighed as silence followed, however brief a reprieve it might be. “Regan and I were witnesses to his ousting and the man was pissed, threatening legal action the whole time Dano perp-walked him down the steps and to his car.”
“Seriously?” A smile soon curved Angie’s lips. “I would have loved to have seen that.” She savored that image for a moment before she waded into the sea of questions that remained. “How did she hook up with Cecily and Stapleton? They didn’t move in the same social groups, and forgive my ignorance, but do straight Dommes usually socialize with female submissives?”
“Not usually,” T replied with a shrug, “but she was an easy mark. Cecily and Stapleton would have been looking for a patsy, someone vulnerable like a newbie. She was also a trainee. They observe many scenes in different areas. With her connections to two of the owners’ wives, no one suspected her.”
“So, to recap,” Tony cut in. “We’ve had four moles Shelby, Cecily, Moon and the Chief of the SAPD running free in the club for the past year or more gathering inflammatory and career ending intel on our members. Damn. We have to get a lock on security. We’re a goddamned security firm and can’t manage our own house? How does that look?”
“Now that we’ve identified the moles, Cap, it’s gotta get better.” Sean didn’t look convinced.
“Has anyone found a connection between the other three and Shelby?” While he spoke, he came to his feet, passing sweet natured Conner to Angie, who eagerly took him into her arms. He grabbed a diaper bag in one hand and a reluctant Megan with the other and began to guide her and the highly perturbed infant in her arms—who made his dissatisfaction known that the pacifier she’d tried to pawn off on him, which didn’t contain the milk he expected, wasn’t cutting it—to the door.
Angie wasn’t the least bit surprised when Megan protested.
“But, Captain, I don’t want to leave and miss anything.”
With an indulgent sigh, he rerouted his course, steering Megan to his desk and seating her in his Cap sized high backed chair. With a half turn, he aimed her back to the group as he handed her a baby blanket for added privacy. “Listen, but feed him as you do so, angel, before he gnaws off his own fist or deafens someone.”
Not another word was heard from Megan and the baby’s angry cries were soon replaced by sweet little sucking sounds and sighs of contentment.
Another envious twinge twisted inside Angie as she dipped her head, kissing Conner’s soft cheek and inhaling his addictive baby scent. Enamored of the twins, Angie cuddled the warm bundle in her arms, helpless to keep from falling for his cute chubby cheeks and dimpled chin. As she cradled him close, she soaked in as much of his adorability as possible, knowing she’d do anything to have what Meg had with Cap and her two boys.
Feeling eyes on her, she raised her head, her gaze colliding with T’s perceptive one. Usually he winked or grinned in a teasing manner, but this time, his face was serious, the look he sent her way intense. His silent perusal tipped downward to the infant in her arms, lingered for a moment as a shadow of something—regret, sorrow or was it pain?—crossed his face for an instant, then he locked it down. His attention returned to her face and he frowned. Without a word, a wink or a grin, he pushed away from the wall and the next instant was gone. Left puzzled by his abrupt change of demeanor as well as his sudden departure, Angie tried to shake the feeling that she’d been judged and come up short somehow.
Since she’d eliminated T from her potential dating pool already, she told herself it didn’t matter and searched for the threads of their previous discussion.
“A connection,” Angie began, quickly picking it back up, “does there have to be one? Is it possible that they’re unrelated?”
“Cecily wasn’t a member long, but those pics in her locker dated back a year or more. I’m trying to match them up with the one’s found in Shelby’s apartment. If I can, there’s your connection.” This came from Jonas, who had wandered in a few minutes ago and settled on the couch to listen. “I suspect they were all working together. What I don’t get is what they would gain by shutting us down.” He reached for the laptop he’d brought in with him, on his way to the meeting no doubt, and began scrolling through the other pics from the flash drive. “There has to be a clue in here somewhere.”
Jonas wirelessly connected to the flat screen and they all sat quietly watching the slow slide show, searching for clues and trying to make sense of it all.
“Excuse me, Sean, Cap, everyone,” Mara called from the doorway. “Rick and Dex wanted me to ask if the meeting has been moved in here. The rest of the team is waiting in the conference room…” She trailed off to barely a whisper.
Angie glanced up to find Mara unmistakably appalled as she stared, transfixed at the 60-inch screen.
“Stop!” she cried with audible strain. “Go back.”
Jonas leaned forward and scrolled to the previous shot.
“No, not that one, go to the next.” He flipped back another, when she shook her head, he switched to another. “Yes, that one.” The hand at her mouth trembled as she stepped closer to Sean, her hand snaking around his bicep as she stared with wide-eyed horror at the image of the man in black leather. Concern noticeable on his face, Sean’s fingers curled around her shoulders.
“What is it, Mara?”
Eyes fused to the screen, she whispered, “I recognize that man. What is Dick Henson doing at Decadence?”
Sean’s gaze flicked to Cap, skidded through Jonas, and finally settled on Angie. She opened her mouth to clarify for Mara, but Sean shook his head slightly.
“He was a member until a few days ago. Are you sure this is Dick Henson?”
With a grimace, Mara turned away. She’d grown pale, her brows drawn together deeply. Her hands continued to shake as they rose to her husband’s chest and fisted, clutching handfuls of his shirt.
“I know him from D.C., Sean. He was a crooked cop back then, on the take I guess is what you call it. He was definitely in Victor’s hip pocket.”
Angie stepped close. “You’re sure, Mara? No doubts? Because the rest of us know that man by another name.”
Startled, Mara turned to her. “Who?”
“Chief Richard Stapleton of the San Antonio Police.”
Mara glanced back at the image briefly. Giving a quick nod, she leaned heavily against her husband. “I’m more than one hundred percent. I couldn’t possibly forget—” Her tear filled eyes opened and tipped up to Sean.
“You don’t have to explain, nightingale,” Sean whispered hoarsely, his lips against her forehead.
There was no need to give details to Angie or anyone everyone else in the room. They knew what she’d been through in D.C. It was also common knowledge that Victor Mendoza was a pig, of the same ilk as Richard Stapleton, but on a larger scale. Mara had already disclosed everything to the Feds: names, dates, Victor’s criminal activities, and the long list
of his corrupt friends, including how he indebted them until they owed him favors, debts and markers which he could and did call upon later. She’d reluctantly disclosed an additional painful detail, how he would reward his friends and business associates for their loyalty by opening his stable of girls as part of their payoff. It had been a painful admission and no way was Angie going to ask her to go through that pain again by repeating it.
Into the deafening silence of the room, the weightiness of which was dark and heavy considering Mara’s ordeal, Angie interjected, “The particulars are sketchy, but the dotted lines are there. Victor knew Judge Jenkins as a client in years past, he must have found out he was a club member and with his re-election coming up, targeted him as low-hanging fruit, ripe for the picking. Knowing Victor has a connection to Stapleton aka Henson, fills in a lot of blanks.”
“Cecily was most likely planted to pick up where Shelby left off,” Sean offered.
Jonas agreed. “And after Shelby’s death, when we thought we were in the clear from any more threats, Stapleton moved in as well. When his inroad was cut off, he turned to Moon. It doesn’t all center on the club, it revolves around Victor.”
“No, it’s all about me,” Mara broke in.
“Mara, don’t…”
“It’s true, Lucky, think about it. Victor knew about Decadence through me. I bet he steered the judge in your direction in the first place. And, it’s too coincidental that Shelby became a member after that scene with me. I’d bet big money he was blackmailing her too, and planted her here as a spy. Further, this thing with her and Anderson, how did that hook up happen? I’m not buying a fluke or dumb luck. Where is he from? D.C., I bet.”
Mara glanced at Sean who shrugged and looked to Jonas. His mouth dipped down in turn, indicating that Mara was right.
“Do you have a picture of him?” Mara asked.
Jonas hesitated.
“You do. Bring it up,” Mara demanded.
He glanced over her head, this time.
“Jonas,” she urged gently, “I know you’re trying to protect me, but the Feds will find the connection soon enough.”
“Cue it up, Tech,” Sean murmured resignedly.
The screen changed immediately as Jonas scrolled through folders, opening one, the screen filled with thumbnails and he searched through them. Soon, Anderson’s face came on screen.
As Mara’s lips compressed into a hard line, Angie knew this was yet another haunting blast from her past, and a face she’d never expected to see ever again. Angie’s heart ached for her.
“I knew him as Chuck,” she whispered. “He was one of Victor’s best buds when he came home on leave.” Her glazed eyes turned to Sean. “All of this crap started long before we ever met, don’t you see? He watches me. It was one of his thugs in the parking garage over three years ago. He told me I was his, and that I always will be. He wants to control me and everyone—no, everything—around me. He’s a sick, twisted, obsessed individual. This is all about me; it’s my fault.”
“No, Mara,” Sean growled as he pulled her up on her toes, his eyes blazing fire down at her. “This is not on you, it’s on Victor.”
“He’s right, Mara. In all of this, you are the victim. Don’t turn this around in your head.” Angie then summed it up, “So all paths lead back to Victor Mendoza and it appears he has allied himself with a crooked cop. Amazing how someone so corrupt rose through the ranks to police chief.”
“When I say he was tight with Victor,” Mara explained, “I mean fused at the hip. He made the man rich. Since Victor moved, I’m not surprised Dick followed. The loss of income would have been devastating. He also cultivates friends and favors among the rich and powerful. I’m betting the corruption goes much higher than the chief of police.”
“It certainly explains how a city employee, despite being chief, affords a Lexus, a pricey membership at a private club, and that Rolex he was always flashing around.” This came from Megan, who was finished with Caleb and had him on her shoulder, patting his back. She handed him off to Cap who picked up where she left off, thumping his son as if he’d done it for years.
Megan turned to Angie and relieved her of sweet Connor. On her way back to the desk to feed him, she abruptly reversed course. Stopping in front of Mara, she wrapped her free arm around her neck in a fierce hug.
“You’ll never convince anyone in this room, that any of this is your fault, Mara O’Brien, so don’t even try. Not for a minute.” When she pulled back, she gave her a watery smile of support. At that moment, the little one on his daddy’s shoulder let out a resounding belch. It broke the tension in the room enough that they all chuckled.
“Ah, my charming son,” Megan deadpanned, “already making the ladies swoon with his smooth ways.” She then winked at Mara. As she passed Tony, she patted Caleb’s back, her hand trailing over her husband’s shoulder and down his arm as she made her way back to her semi-private spot.
Another low voice added to the mix. “This has got to be the most convoluted fucked up case of corruption I’ve ever seen,” Dex commented from the doorway, where he and Rick stood observing the scene. “We connect two dots only to have four more pop up without answers. Mara’s right. If the SAPD is infiltrated with corruption, I’m sure it goes beyond the department itself. For instance, Dick Hensley does not change his identity and get hired as police chief Richard Stapleton out of nowhere, not without someone at city hall pulling strings and covering things up.”
“At least we have an explanation for why we’ve had road blocks at every turn and been thwarted in our efforts to crack down on the cartel in this end of the state,” Rick added. “Now we have to figure out how pervasive the corruption is and who we can trust?”
“Let’s get the general in on this?” Cap suggested, as he strode toward his desk.
Sean nodded, watching him dial. “An excellent idea.”
“General Davis?” Mara questioned, confused. “What does a semi-retired Army general have to do with city politics?”
“He’s got connections,” Jonas informed with a grin. “I think he and Joanna are on speed dial for the Mayor-elect and his wife, and the ladies play tennis together weekly.”
“Yes, and Joanna helped her redecorate their house a few months back,” Megan supplemented, rejoining the group. With Connor on her shoulder, she went to Cap’s side, smiling at her other sleeping son snoring softly on his shoulder.
“They all went to Aruba together over Christmas, didn’t they, angel?”
“Yes, and they all had Thanksgiving dinner at their house, I believe.”
“Seriously?” Mara returned, in surprise. “That’s perfect. How does he know all these people?”
“Other than being a two star general, a war hero and a born and raised Texan who frequents Austin and the governor’s mansion, you mean?” Sean asked, as Angie and Mara’s jaws dropped, neither knowing how influential their former commander really was. “Pete grew up around here, like most of us did. He went to school here, his family is here, and one of his cousins is about to be sworn in as the most powerful man in San Antonio.”
“Who?”
“Mayor-elect Grant Davis is our general’s first cousin.”
“Awesome,” Mara breathed, then beamed up at her man. “It appears the chief is in for a few surprises.”
Angie laughed with delight. “I hope I’m in the office when the shit hits the fan for ole dastardly Dick.”
From his spot at the desk, Cap grinned, his hand over the receiver. “I’ll see what I can do to give you a heads up.” Then he refocused, saying into the phone, “Pete? It’s Tony. We’ve had a break in the case.”
Chapter Thirty-two
One at a time, she removed each piece of equipment and laid it on the counter. Some of the items were familiar, a few she had no clue. By the time she’d emptied the contents of Sean’s large black bag and spread it all out in front of her, she was amazed—and rather appalled—at the assortment of tools he’d acquired. It looked
like something the Marquis de Sade would have proudly owned. She counted two paddles, one clear plastic, the other leather, and three various weight floggers. There was a lightweight red one that she knew on sight would sting like the dickens, a thuddy medium weight in blue, and a run-for-the-hills-this-is-going-to-hurt-like-hell heavy-duty black one. The last one she hadn’t had the displeasure of and planned to avoid at all costs because if Sean laid into her with that, he would likely knock her across the room. She mused over the other floggers, thinking he hadn’t used the red or the blue either. She also found an eight-inch baton, but after studying it closely, discovered it was actually a cane that expanded to three times its length. She slashed it through the air, winced at the whippy sound it made and quickly set it aside. Next, she gawked at the three phallic toys in graduated sizes: extra-large, mammoth and no freakin’ way.
“Does the man do nothing in moderation?”
“That word does not exist in Texas, baby? Haven’t you learned we do everything bigger?”
Sean’s deep voice in the quiet bathroom made her jump. What happened next unfolded as if in slow motion. As she spun to face him, her hand came up to her chest as if to slow her racing heart, but she lost her grip on the heavy dildo still in her hand, which naturally, was the one of ginormous proportions. It flew up in the air, seemed to hover—although she knew that was scientifically impossible—then fell, flipping end over end until it hit the tiled floor with a loud splat.
Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5) Page 39
