In the Still of the Night:Sexy Romantic Suspense (Book 2 The Blonde Barracuda's Sizzling Suspense Series)
Page 9
Her plan was simple. She needed to hook up with a john in front of the Rising Sun and lead him inside. Capturing the illicit money exchange was essential. As was the backdrop of the Rising Sun. The challenge was how to get that combination without alerting the bad actors inside the spa that she wasn’t one of their girls doing what she was paid to do. She was counting on the astonishing number of “incidents” that took place nightly inside the establishment. It was one of the busiest and most profitable erotic massage parlors in the District. And one of the best-guarded. Lexie was counting on sheer volume to allow her to get inside with her john. From their surveillance she knew that a minimum of twenty girls worked the rooms inside. And each girl turned at least a dozen tricks a night. Damn that would exhaust the most exacting gatekeeper and that was what Lexie was counting on. Risky? Hell yes. Necessary? Absolutely.
She had excellent footage of women telling their horrific stories. Telling in excruciating detail what happened inside the walls of these “workplaces.” Their stories were heartbreaking and all too familiar to Lexie. But to the general public? And the City Council? And the rabid press corps? They were dynamite. Which reminded her, on their list of “must haves” was a clear shot of the prominently posted city permit on the wall of the Rising Sun.
She ran through the scenario one more time in her mind. She’d made Dewa repeat it so often that she could envision it just by closing her eyes. The anteroom was small and always crowded with weary girls and eager johns. The girls brought in the johns they rounded up on their assigned streets. Once inside, they turned them over to the Madams stationed at the entrance to the private cubicles. After the john paid, and picked up a condom, he and his girl waited for a cubicle to open up. Lexie’s plan was simple. As soon as Dewa captured the money exchange on camera, the two of them would make their way through the tiny hallway to the back entrance and head down the alley undetected. That was the plan.
After about an hour, she and Dewa had become familiar figures on the street and weren’t attracting notice from the watchers at the spa. Lexie tested that notion by initiating a conversation with one of the pimp/guards leaning up against the porch leading to the spa entrance. Complaining about the “new” pimp she was breaking in, she asked the heavily tattooed black man to watch him for her, said he was young and the first time he’d “done” the Rising Sun. Lexie motioned Dewa over, and introduced him to Sanchez. The bored guard was helpful in a laconic sort of way. Warned them both that the Madam was a greedy bitch, and any money she charged for upselling Lexie’s services she pocketed.
Lexie spotted a fifty-something, balding man leaning up against a couple-year-old Toyota Camry. He had ‘suburban white male out for a night on the town’ written all over him. Lexie shrugged to her two companions and muttered, “He oughta be good for an entrance fee, don’t’cha think?”
Sanchez shrugged. “Just don’t let the bitch see you take it. She’ll grab it and your portion of the trick fee.”
Lexie threw him a knowing grin.
“Hey, you guys show a little muscle and whatever I get, I’ll split.”
Sanchez nodded his understanding and with Dewa at her side, moved in to “encourage” the exchange.
Lexie marveled at how sanguine the aging yuppie was as he prepared to commit a crime that could easily destroy his marriage and his livelihood. Apparently the guy was an old timer, knew his way around the brothels. He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when she suggested that she’d do a little extra if he paid her directly. Rolling off a couple of twenties, he shrugged and handed them to her. Confident that Dewa had captured the audio and video of the exchange, she winked at Sanchez and tucked one of the twenties in his pants pocket as she and Dewa entered the spa with their mark in tow.
Inside the stench of heavy cloying perfume, sweat and sex hit Lexie in the face. She saw Dewa jerk back. Poor kid, she thought to herself. What an introduction to the oldest profession in the world. The tiny room was even more crowded than she expected. The girls ranged from their late teens to early twenties. The men were easily twice their ages. The fat squinty-eyed Madam parked in the entrance to the private rooms didn’t bother with niceties or subterfuge. Clearly she’d long ago concluded that the risk of exposure was small and the payoff so large that she did her business mechanically and openly. Lexie tossed Dewa a knowing nod at the City permit prominently displayed beside the entrance. She smiled grimly to herself. A two-fer for Dewa’s camera. Next to the permit was the Rising Sun logo. Damn, she wouldn’t need to art direct this shot. The spa owners did it for her.
When Dewa signaled that he’d captured ‘their’ mark paying the gatekeeper and pocketing the condom, Dewa headed for the hallway. Lexie sidled up to her guy, who’d introduced himself as Greg. She was confident it was his real name. So certain that he wouldn’t get caught, he didn’t even try for an alias. Running her hand suggestively over the front of his pants and smiling at the responding twitch, she whispered that she needed to go to the ladies room. With another quick tug at the bulge that was making a more forward appearance, she winked over her shoulder and followed Dewa down the narrow hallway.
To her relief, Lexie saw that Dewa had made it outside. He was heading down the alley when a couple of the men lounging at the bottom of the staircase jerked to attention and yelled to him to stop. As instructed, Dewa didn’t respond, just shoved his hands in his low hanging jeans and speeded up. The largest of the guys tossed his cigarette and shouted as he took off after the young man, “Hey, asshole, you deaf?! Didn’t you forget something?”
As if on command, the other two guards tossed their cigarettes and hurried to catch up to their leader. Seeing the danger, Lexie yelled, “Go, Dewa. Run!”
Her shout had the intended effect. The startled men forgot the pimp who’d taken off like a bat out of hell and turned as a group to see who dared interrupt their fun.
Lexie pranced down the stairs and tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. Eyeing the leader of the group, a tall heavy-set Asian man, she cocked her head and grinned. “Sorry guys. I’m just breaking him in. He doesn’t know all the rules.”
She kept walking when a large hand jerked her back. She relaxed in his hold to distract him. Making no attempt to break away, she took in the scar that kept his left eyelid partially closed. His occluded vision gave her an advantage she intended to use. But before attacking, she tried a more seductive approach.
“Hey, man. Lighten up. Can’t ya see, I’m not going anywhere?”
His breath reeking with alcohol was hot on her face.
“You’re right about that, pussycat.” He twisted her arm behind her and dragged her up next to him. Surveying her body, he nodded to his friends.
“No, we definitely haven’t met. I’d remember these anywhere.” He reached out and gave her breast a sharp pinch. Lexie managed to keep from crying out. The brute continued in a low voice. “And guess what? These honkers are real, aren’t they pussycat?” He reached across and pinched the other breast. This time Lexie was unable to stifle her cry.
“Yeah, you are definitely new, baby. She don’t seem to know the protocol, does she?” The two men beside him growled in agreement. One reached out and twisted her nipple.
“I’ll be fucked, Maco. These jugs are real. Looks like this is our lucky night. First the slut tells her pimp to hightail it outa here . Then she thinks she can just sashay her hot little ass right past us, without paying her dues.” He pressed his hard muscled body up against hers grinding his arousal into her stomach. He laughed and his buddies joined in. “Yeah, slut, you feel that? And there’s more where that came from, ain’t there, boys? See, pussy cat, we have a little initiation party for new sluts—in addition to the regular dues.” Grabbing once more for her breast, he chortled, “Fuck yes! Is this our lucky night or what?”
Taking advantage of the three deviants’ attention to her breasts, Lexie twisted and drove her heel into the leader’s foot. His surprised scream drowned out the sound of cracking bone.
With a spirit yell, Lexie went into action. She spun in a flying whirl and drove an elbow into Maco’s jaw. The big man stumbled back but quickly recovered and raised his fists in the unmistakable sign of a trained fighter. Turning, she ducked in time to miss the heel of the third man’s boot. Instead she smashed the palm of her hand up into his nose and heard a satisfying crunch. His outraged scream and a spurt of blood confirmed she’d broken his nose. Two against one she could handle with ease but over her shoulder she saw that her screaming adversaries had attracted reinforcements. Sanchez came bellowing around the corner, followed by another Asian man. Driving a steel tipped boot at Maco’s knee, Lexie missed but caught his hip. As he went down, he grabbed for her but caught her hair. With a painful jerk he pulled her wig free.
Sanchez roared. “Fuckin A! It’s the blond bitch! The fucking martial artist freak who helps all the whores. Get her, men! Whatever you do, don’t let her go! Christ, they’ll kill us if we let her go!”
Lexie spun backwards to survey the landscape. Ignoring the leader who was rolling on the ground cradling his broken foot, she counted her odds. Two against one, a piece of cake. Three against one, could be interesting. But four against one, particularly when three of them were clearly trained fighters, now that called for strategy. First she had to even the odds. Whirling from left to right she went for Maco who was coming at her his face tight with rage. Anger was a weapon she used. Against him. With a round-house hook kick she went for his knee again. This time she connected.
She felt, rather than saw the quick man behind Sanchez. The one they’d called Chang. The whistle of air signaled his heel before it caught her on her shoulder, fortunately missing the joint. Momentary numbness ricocheted down her arm. She used the pause to leap in the air catching Chang by surprise with a heel high hook. At the same time that she saw the knife in Sanchez’s hand, she heard a chilling sound—the traditional kihap yell of the Korean Master Hapkido fighter. She recalculated her odds. Five against one? Including a big man with a knife, plus a master martial artist? Fuck.
To her surprise, Sanchez screamed, his knife flying across the alley—the result of a round-house kick that landed on the big man’s wrist. An eagle-beak strike to Chang’s face elicited a shriek of pain. It took her a quick second to assess the Hapkido fighter who was dressed in black. She took the chance that by some freak interference of the gods he was friend not foe. She decided she may as well take the chance. If she was wrong she was likely dead anyway. She advanced on Sanchez who roared forward, an enraged bull, fury twisting his features into an ugly mask. Rolling to the ground, she feinted to the left then in a signature move Jake taught her, she drove her steel-heeled boot up between his legs and finished him off with a roundhouse kick to the side of his head.
Looking up, she saw her partner in crime take down Chang with a stunning hook kick to the jaw. Glancing at the alley of writhing bleeding bodies she caught the gaze of her would be ally who shrugged and asked, “What is it they say about discretion?”
She hooted a sharp laugh and took off down the alley, the man dressed in black hard on her heels.
Chapter 11
They ran down the alley, Lexie in the lead when the man behind her shouted, “To the left!”
Lexie hesitated for a split second, then sprinted after him. Following his tall slim body, she noted that he had the physique of a runner and given that she was panting for breath, his pace confirmed it.
When she called out, needing to catch her breath, he quickly stopped. Grabbing for her arm, he apologized.
“I’m sorry. Can you make it for another block? My car is just around the corner.”
Lexie nodded and motioned him forward. “Just got a catch in my side. I’m okay now.”
As they turned the corner he pulled a key fob out of his pocket and clicked the lights on a late model Jag down the block. Amazingly, he went to the passenger side and opened the door for her. Struck by his manners at a time like this, she was late considering whether it was wise to get in a car with a total stranger. By the time she’d thought it over, he was in the driver’s seat cranking up the ignition.
“I wasn’t sure where your car was, but I presumed it was farther away than mine. I can take you to it now or I can take you home. But first let me ask, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? That was a punishing blow you took to your shoulder.”
Lexie stared at the Asian man. His features were Korean, which had been confirmed by his knowledge of Hapkido. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties given the streaks of gray in his short dark hair. He was taller than many Asian men and she’d already noted his strong wiry physique. But it was his clothes that caught her attention. Given their situation they were incongruous at best. His black slacks were a fine worsted wool, and his long sleeved shirt open at the neck was patterned silk. Given the Jaguar and his unlikely costume, Lexie decided that she’d either gotten in the car with an apparition or more likely a member of the Korean crime syndicate. Who else would be in the District at this time of night dressed as he was?
He met her gaze and his dark eyes twinkled.
“Before you wonder who is this strange man who burst into your life, let me introduce myself. My name is Peter Kim. I am a businessman. I own property in this area and was coming to check on it when I heard the altercation in the alley. While you clearly had the situation in hand, I felt that big brute pulling a knife was shall we say, unsportsmanlike?”
Lexie was rarely without words but could only stare at the dignified man with the cultured voice, trying to square the image with the man who’d leaped into a back alley fight with a loud kihap. She fought for her composure trying to mimic his élan.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kim. Please excuse the way I’m dressed. My name is—”
He held up his hand. “First, please call me Peter. And I know who you are. You are the famous Alexis Beloi or should I say ‘infamous’ Alexis Beloi. And by the way, don’t apologize for your clothing. You look lovely in pink. May I presume that you were attempting to fit in with the locals when you were jumped by a gang of pimps?”
Whether it was from the adrenalin coursing through her body or the idea of possibly being in a $150,000 automobile of a mobster with a sly sense of humor, Lexie burst out laughing. Peter joined her. After a moment she wiped her eyes and smiled at him.
“I don’t have a clue who you are or how you know who I am, but thank you. I’m always confident taking on a bunch of hoodlums but I don’t know when I’ve been happier to hear a kihap—after I realized that you’d come to help me, not finish me off.”
“You are most welcome, Ms. Beloi. As I said it is my pleasure. To reiterate, I own property in the area, and there are not many businessmen in the District who don’t know of the ‘Blonde Barracuda.’”
Lexie shrugged.
“I don’t know what to say except thank you. I would like to talk more but I am concerned about the young man who was with me tonight. I really need to get home to make sure that he is all right.”
Peter eased the spectacular automobile onto the road.
“Of course. Tell me. Where would you like me to take you? I’m pleased to take you home….”
“No, that isn’t necessary. I parked my car over on Geary. Dewa may even be there, although he had orders to grab the cable car if we needed to separate.”
The Korean man nodded, as if that explained things.
“I wondered why you were alone. Even for someone with your skills and reputation, a single woman in the heart of the District at 2 a.m. is not safe. Particularly behind an establishment like the Rising Sun.”
Lexie couldn’t keep her annoyance from sweeping over her. As though anyone werewas safe in that area. She said as mildly as she could manage.
“I don’t think that anyone is safe in that area at night. But if it is necessa
ry to be there, my skills are useful.”
Peter raised one hand off the leather steering wheel.
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to sound patronizing. And you are correct. No one is safe there, including people—men and women—who have our skills.”
Lexie appreciated his quick agreement, but was relieved to see her car and a little troubled that Dewa was nowhere in sight. She hoped he was home safe. She turned to the genteel man who looked and talked as if they were returning from a pleasant dinner in a fancy restaurant, not a knife fight in the alley behind a notorious erotic spa.
She extended her hand, “Thank you again, Peter. I appreciate your help.”
He held her hand for a moment too long, then seemed to realize his mistake.
“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to leave without seeing if we could meet. Perhaps for lunch? I would like to discuss some of the issues we are facing in the District.”
By now Lexie was feeling completely flummoxed. Who the hell was this guy? As if reading her mind, Peter reached in his pocket and withdrew a slim case and handed her a card.
“This is my business card. Feel free to look me up. And if you decide I am not the grim reaper in disguise, I hope you will consider lunch, perhaps in a day or two?”
Lexie tucked the card in her hip hugger shorts, reminded once again of the odd juxtaposition in the way they were dressed and gave him a helpless grin.
“Heck, why not? I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.”
She quickly opened the door and hopped out. She reached inside her halter flinching at what was sure to be a bruise on her nipple and pulled out her car key. Without looking at the man in the sleek automobile beside her, she opened the door of her 1958 Camaro with a grateful sigh, and turned on the engine. As she neared home, she thanked god that this horrible night was over. Minutes later, seeing the lights in the dojo, and the police cruiser parked in the driveway, she sighed. Then again, maybe not.