* * * *
Chloe gave a contented sigh. I hope not, you big jerk. I hope not.
Sometime during the night she felt his hand between her legs, and she opened for him. That had always been their pattern—a fast and furious fuck and then later a long, leisurely loving. He never left her wanting, that was for sure. She wondered how long he would wait before he tried to introduce a little bondage or spanking into the curriculum. She had to grin. She loved that too.
On Sunday morning, Chloe got up and made a pot of the strong, dark roast coffee she knew J.J. loved. She still had a package in her freezer. She brought him a cup in bed, and then she made pancakes with fresh fruit for breakfast. They ate on her patio which was shaded by a large, blooming, umbrella-shaped Poinciana tree. She loved her large backyard. It was surrounded by a high wooden fence and provided plenty of privacy. She spent a good amount of time manicuring her flower beds and pruning her rose bushes on weekends. Her pool was secluded and heated, but she wished she had the impenetrable fortress-like Ficus hedges that Kaylin’s Rio Vista yard sported. She and the other girls loved their topless Saturdays sunning and drinking mimosas or margaritas around Kaylin’s pool.
Chloe and J.J. spent the day alternating between lounging on the chaises next to the pool and making love. He pinned her up against the side of the pool, and he took her while she wrapped her legs around his waist in the warm, sun-dappled water. She was embarrassed to realize she had been less than quiet and that her neighbors might have heard her “female tiger in the jungle” orgasm. Hopefully, Steve and Eric, the gay couple who lived on one side of her, were out and about their garage sale wanderings. Old Mrs. Evans on the other side was deaf. With any luck, she had her hearing aid turned off. Chloe knew she had been loud because she heard Mrs. Evans’s Pomeranian, Muffy, who was also hard of hearing, barking behind the fence. Sorry, Muffy old girl. This one is all mine. Not sharing. In the evening, J.J. called for a pizza delivery, and they watched movies and drank wine. When they went to bed, J.J. spooned her into his arms after making energetic love again. He had not tried to handcuff her yet, but he had imprisoned her hands over her head while he pounded into her with enthusiasm. It seemed that J.J. was definitely making up for lost time, but he had been very careful to wear a condom since that first night. Chloe felt a happy hum around her heart as she fell asleep in J.J.’s arms.
Monday was Labor Day, and they spent it in Chloe’s yard sunning, swimming, and relaxing. In the evening J.J. had grilled steaks while she made a Caesar salad and steamed asparagus for dinner. Chloe had certainly not expected to spend the entire long weekend with him when they had gone out for dinner on Friday night, but they had drifted effortlessly back into their old patterns. J.J. left at midnight after kissing her senseless again.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, baby. Have a good day at work and be careful.” He never failed to tell her to be careful.
Chapter Seven
Office of Strategic Investigations Division, Broward County Sheriff’s Office, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Tuesday morning, September 2, 2014
Chloe was at her desk reviewing reports of various tips and leads that had come in over the weekend. She didn’t see anything much to get excited about until she came upon a message left by a uniformed BSO deputy on Monday. It said that a dark-haired woman in a black Mercedes who fit the description on the BOLO had been spotted driving slowly around downtown. She had stopped to talk to one young girl but then took off when she spotted the BSO cruiser. The deputy had gotten a partial license plate, and that was being checked against the Department of Motor Vehicles’s records. The cruiser had tried to follow. It had been around the corner on the next block and was unable to catch up. She took off north on Andrews Avenue and disappeared in the warren of streets in the Sistrunk neighborhood. The deputy confirmed that although the suspect was a distance away he thought that she resembled the description that had been put out on the BOLO.
Chloe immediately picked up the phone to let Kaylin and Del know about the possible lead. “Excellent. Let us know if they come up with anything on the partial plate. Can you meet me for lunch this afternoon? How about Cheeburger Cheeburger on Las Olas?”
“I can do that. A lot happened over the weekend I want to tell you about.”
“Really? About J.J.? Can’t wait to hear, girlfriend. Is twelve thirty okay?”
“See you then.” Chloe spent the rest of the morning cruising the downtown area in the hopes of seeing the black Mercedes. She also stopped to talk to kids hanging out at the Broward Boulevard McDonald’s as well as the plaza in front of the Main Library, both very popular hangouts for the homeless. Not all the kids went into the shelters. She wanted to be sure as many kids as possible had a heads up on the danger lurking in the black Mercedes. She knew a lot of them didn’t trust cops and wouldn’t talk to the uniforms. She hoped they would talk to her since she was in plain clothes.
When Chloe had first joined the department, she had hated wearing the hot, bulky BSO uniform and heavy gun and utility belt. She had gotten out of uniform and into plain clothes as quickly as she could. She had studied like a demon for her detective’s exam and passed with one of the highest scores ever. She hoped to do the same with the sergeant’s exam. She was ambitious and wanted to make the most of her career as well as help people. Right now she wanted to help a group of homeless runaways who were in big trouble. She might not make a huge salary, but she was comfortable. She had inherited her adorable little Victoria Park bungalow from her grandparents. It was free and clear except for the money she had spent on renovations. That 1970s avocado green kitchen had had to go even though her grandparents had thought it was “the bee’s knees,” to quote Pop Pop. A lot of those people with the big houses on deepwater in the Las Olas Isles had three mortgages and couldn’t sleep nights. Chloe slept very well.
Chloe was sitting at an outside table at Cheeburger at twelve thirty when Kaylin arrived. By the calendar summer was almost over, but the September day was hot and muggy. However, their table was in the shade and comfortable.
“Okay, Chloe. Spill it. I want all the dirty deets as you like to say. What happened?”
Chloe filled Kaylin in on her long weekend with J.J. Temple. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I guess I can give him the benefit of the doubt one time. We’ll see. I’m trying to take this all with a grain of salt. But I have to say, I have missed him, and it was wonderful to be with him this weekend.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Chloe. Sometimes you have to put yourself out there even when your emotions are screaming for you to take cover. I had to take a chance on Jack, and I’m glad I did. So far, so good.”
“Speaking of Jack. I’d like to do something to thank him for letting us have the fundraiser at the club. He was very generous, and I can’t believe we raised so much money for the shelter. That was amazing.”
“I know he’d enjoy one of your home-cooked meals. I’m not the greatest cook. Actually, he usually cooks for us, and I’m the sous-chef-cleanup person.”
“I’d love to cook a meal for you guys—Mom’s roast chicken or chicken and dumplings. Maybe we can make it a foursome. We’ll see about that part. I don’t want to be too presumptuous with J.J., and it might be good to have some nights when I’m busy with other things—not be too available.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Chloe. He’s the one doing the pursuing, and that’s good. Have you heard from him yet today? I know it’s a little soon…”
“Actually he called my cell while I was out cruising downtown. He said we’re invited to a sunset cocktail party on his senior partner’s yacht on Friday night. I guess he’s going to follow through on my meeting his posse. I have to figure out what one wears for sunset cocktails.”
“Something short and sexy, but not sub wear!” Kaylin was grinning like a loon. “I doubt the partners and their wives would be ready for that.”
“Very funny. Too bad I wore the white gauze strapless sundress Saturday ni
ght. That would have been perfect. Sexy but covered up.”
“Let me know if you don’t come up with something you like. You can troll my closet, or we can go shopping.”
Chloe filled Kaylin in on her morning’s activities. “I haven’t heard anything about the partial plate. It was a lease car, and you can imagine how many black Mercedes leases are out there.” She frowned. “I wish I could think of something different to do to move this along. Knowing those girls are out there alone is killing me.”
“I know, and Del is like a bear with a sore paw. We’re going to start canvassing the companies that lease those shipping containers and see if we can come up with someone who leased only a couple of them. A genuine commercial shipper would be leasing in volume. Of course it’s also possible they just commandeered one that wasn’t actually theirs. Naturally, all the offices were closed over the long weekend. This is so frustrating.”
“That’s a good idea. Maybe I can help check the logistics companies who actually ship them out on the large container ships to see if anyone stands out to them. It just makes my skin crawl thinking about those girls being shut up in one of those containers. They’re death traps. I can see why the trafficking ring would want to use them because it would be hard to spot the girls, but you’d think they would lose too many to make it cost-efficient.”
“I guess they figure any profit is good, and there’s more merchandise where that came from. The girls are free for the picking, and it doesn’t cost them anything. I just can’t wrap my head around this whole deal.”
* * * *
Despite the tedious checking of many black Mercedes matching the partial plate by the uniforms, and the hot, frustrating work of visiting the different container companies and logistics companies, the week passed quickly. While they could have done a lot of the work on the phone, better results were always obtained by a visit from BSO detectives in person. People couldn’t just blow you off when you were standing there flashing a gold shield. She did love her gold detective’s shield.
Chloe and J.J. had gone out for dinner on Wednesday night and he had spent the night again. She had combed both Kaylin’s and her own closet for something to wear on Friday night and had ended up making a trip to Macy’s and getting a new outfit. Again, she didn’t want to appear to be trying too hard. She was happy with the lime-green-and-yellow, flowered, Ralph Lauren, sleeveless cotton sheath that hit about six inches above her knees, and the pair of lime green kitten-heeled pumps with rubber soles. What were the chances of finding lime green pumps with rubber soles when you needed them? One in a million? She should have run out and gotten a lotto ticket. Boat people were fanatical about no high heels on their wood decks, so she knew that effort would be appreciated at least.
Nonetheless, the outfit was perfect. She didn’t want to meet John’s partners and their wives in something short and tight, and she didn’t want to be tottering around on super high heels on a boat either.
J.J. picked her up at five thirty and they made their way back across the Seventeenth Street Causeway to the Pier 66 Marina where his partner, Dan McGrath, docked his fifty-two-foot Sea Ray Sundancer. When they parked and walked up to the boat, Chloe was impressed. Anne Marie’s Folly was a beautiful vessel, sleek and white with a comfortable aft lounge area.
There were already four other couples on the aft deck enjoying cocktails and finger foods. J.J. took a quick inventory and said, “They’ll be waiting for one more couple. Let’s go aboard and meet everyone.”
Chloe’s heart was in her throat. She was not a shy person and met and dealt with strangers every day in her job, but she had asked for this—no, demanded it—and she had better make a damn good impression. J.J. helped her aboard and then pulled her tightly into his side. He made the rounds of all of the couples and made the necessary introductions. Chloe could see the questions and speculation in all of the women’s eyes and the sexual interest in all the men’s eyes. Oh, boy. It was going to be one of those groups—jealous women and predatory men. After a few minutes of general chatting though, the women started to warm up. She could see that they all genuinely liked John, as he was called, and wanted to like his new girlfriend. They, of course, did not know that she was not actually his “new” girlfriend. She wasn’t going to tell them if J.J. didn’t.
Dan McGrath had hired a captain for the evening so they could all enjoy the cruise up the Intracoastal without worrying about who was drinking what. Drunk driving applied to the waterways as well as the roadways, after all, and a wise person didn’t take chances with a million dollar boat.
Dan’s wife, Anne Marie, was pleasant and made an effort to include Chloe in the conversation. She was an attractive woman with a slight Southern drawl, and dark curly hair. She was wearing a white caftan and a stunning strand of Tahitian pearls with a diamond clasp that looked to Chloe to be genuine. Going by the length of the strand and the size and luster of the pearls, it had to have cost fifteen to twenty thousand dollars at the minimum. Wow. But she had to admit the greenish-gray color with flashes of aubergine on the skin made them unique and quite beautiful.
“So, Chloe, what do you do for a living?” Kathy Scott, one of the wives, looked curious, if not suspicious. Chloe thought that Kathy was wondering if she, in fact, did anything for a living.
Much to Chloe’s surprise before she could say a word, J.J. jumped right in and said, “Chloe’s a BSO Strategic Investigations detective, narcotics and vice.” There were some surprised looks among the group, and then they all jumped in with questions. Did she arrest Johns? Did she go on drug raids? Had she ever shot anyone? The questions came in quick succession, but she tried to answer them honestly and without seeming to brag. Since she was a decorated officer who had worked undercover, that was not hard.
It seemed that J.J. was not done, though. “Chloe’s working on a task force looking into human trafficking of young girls who are disappearing from Fort Lauderdale.”
Chloe would rather have not disclosed that. The task force was trying to keep the story under wraps. Since he hadn’t given any classified information, she let it go, but decided to play it down. “It’s suspected only. We don’t have any concrete information at this time, just speculation.” Being the new girl in town was tough. She wanted to make a good impression without divulging too much information. The conversation drifted to other avenues, and Chloe was glad to have the spotlight off her.
The boat traveled north on the Intracoastal all the way to Delray Beach before turning around, and it was after midnight when they returned to the dock at Pier 66. When the evening was over and everyone was getting off the boat, Anne Marie approached Chloe. “I’d love to have lunch with you one day next week, dear. How about the Lauderdale Yacht Club? That would be fun. I’d like to get to know our John’s friend better.”
Chloe didn’t know what to say. She knew she would have very little in common with this woman, but she couldn’t be rude. Anne Marie was making an effort, after all. “I’d like that, Anne Marie. Let me give you my card, and you can let me know what day you’re free.”
Chapter Eight
Chloe Carlton’s bungalow in the Victoria Park section of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Wednesday morning, September 10, 2014, 7:30 a.m.
Chloe stood in front of her closet again Wednesday morning. This time the dilemma was what to wear for lunch with Anne Marie at the private and very exclusive Lauderdale Yacht Club, a venerable institution located on the Intracoastal Waterway at the foot of the Rio Vista neighborhood off of the Seventeenth Street Causeway. She frequently biked past it. She wanted to wear something appropriate for the club but also for a day pounding the pavement for the trafficking investigation.
She settled on a navy blue Ralph Lauren linen blazer with a gold embroidered crest on the pocket over a lightweight, sleeveless white cotton sweater and khaki slacks. Low-heeled, tan, leather, sling-back shoes and a navy-and-tan Coach handbag completed the look which was definitely not vice cop chic. She pulled her long hair back into a loo
se bun at the base of her neck. Ralphie, as she jokingly referred to the designer of her more conservative clothing items, was who she went to when she wasn’t sure what to wear. The navy blazer had been scored on sale and was one of her favorite pieces of clothing. It went well over jeans and a nice T-shirt as well as something dressier—definitely a wardrobe staple, as the magazines liked to say. She decided to live dangerously and top the outfit off with a strand of white pearls and pearl stud earrings. A girl couldn’t get more classic than that. If need be, she could ditch the blazer and pearls in her car later.
She didn’t know why she was making such a big deal of this luncheon, but she knew she wanted to make a good impression on J.J.’s partners and their wives. Obviously, they were important to him. It was also obvious that Anne Marie, as the wife of the firm’s senior partner, was the leader of that little pack. If the yacht was anything to go by, their house had to be outstanding. J.J. had mentioned that they lived in Idlewyld on the Intracoastal and south of Las Olas Boulevard. It was one of the oldest and most prestigious Fort Lauderdale neighborhoods where most of the small, older homes had been demolished and replaced with huge mansions. If she and J.J. continued to see each other, she would probably be invited there for a function at some time. She just might have to bump up her wardrobe a notch or two if she was going to rub elbows with this crowd.
Chloe was a little anxious. What would she talk to Anne Marie about? Certainly not the latest John sweep or drug bust. They had very little in common. Apparently she was a stay-at-home wife with two teenagers in private school. She obviously had plenty of time on her hands and was one of the ladies who lunched.
Chloe's Rescue [The Black Iris Club 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 6
