Johnnie cocked her head. “No. You’re working at this desk. I’m saying that you have slept with him and you’re playing this verbal rope-a-dope game with me instead of just answering the question.”
Cheryl sucked in a deep breath and then glanced around the office to make sure that no one was listening to them before confessing. “So what if I did? Big deal. It just happened. I didn’t plan it. It…it just happened.”
“Oooh. I knew it.” Johnnie snapped her fingers. “You lucky heifer.” She rolled her eyes. “How was he? I know he was good. He was good, wasn’t he? Tell the truth and shame the devil.”
Cheryl dropped her head into the palm of her hand. “God. Why in the hell did I just tell you that? I’m never going to live it down now.”
“What you’re going to do is give me a blow-by-blow rendition of exactly how it went down. How many times it went down. And please, please tell me that there was some baby oil being slathered on that man’s gorgeous body.”
“What the hell? Aren’t you getting any these days?”
“On a dry spell, two months, sixteen days—” She glanced at her watch. “And ten hours and…seventeen—no—make that eighteen minutes.” Cheryl snickered.
“Throw a girl a bone?”
Cheryl grabbed her purse. “C’mon. Let’s go grab a cup of coffee.”
“Now we’re talking.”
Cheryl shook her head as she walked around her desk, but when she lifted her head, she just barely stopped in time before she smacked into Lieutenant Mackey’s chest.
“Good. I caught you,” Mackey said, folding his arms across his chest. “You got a minute?”
“I, uh—” Cheryl glanced over at Johnnie, but couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough.
“I need to see you in my office,” he said, shuffling past her.
Cheryl groaned and briefly pinched the bridge of her nose.
“That wasn’t a request, Detective Grier,” Mackey shouted without breaking stride.
“I swear I can’t stand that man,” Cheryl hissed under her breath.
“We’ll put that coffee on pause,” Johnnie said. “You better get in there before he huffs and puffs and then blows the damn department down.”
Cheryl returned her purse to the bottom of her desk drawer and then headed toward Mackey’s office. She couldn’t imagine what the hell he wanted, but she hoped like hell that it wouldn’t take long.
“Close the door,” he ordered as he dropped into his chair behind his desk.
Not a good sign. She closed the door and then faced him while folding her arms across her chest. “All right. What is it now?”
“Where is your report on Mad Monez’s bachelor party? It’s been two weeks.”
Cheryl felt a kick to her gut. “I turned in a summary to the team. I haven’t had time to do a full report, but I will get to it this week.”
Mackey nodded as he leaned back in his chair. “Good…because I’ve already received Gilliam and Royo’s. I just want to make sure that everyone’s jibes, that’s all.”
That one was a kick and a karate chop. “Gilliam and Royo made it to the party?”
Mackey’s smile was razor thin, an amazing feat since he had full lips. “I guess they’ll take it as a compliment that you weren’t able to make them out. It must mean they blended in rather well.”
She nodded and then tried to recall as many faces as she could from that night. But when it came to Mad Monez’s bachelor party, there was just one part that stuck out in her mind. Did Royo and Gilliam know what happened between her and Xavier that night?
Cheryl met and held Mackey’s stare for what felt like an eternity.
“Well, like I said, I look forward to reading your report.”
He knows.
She nodded as her stomach twisted into knots. “Is that all?”
“Not quite.” He sat up. “I’m pulling you off this case.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you haven’t been able to produce anything yet—nothing. This department can’t continue to just pour taxpayer money into this without results. I’m thinking either we have bad information or you’re in the wrong spot. Maybe you should’ve applied to be a dancer, like I first suggested. More than likely, you’d be closer to the action.”
“If there is any action,” she retaliated.
“Oh, there’s action. Those kinds of clubs aren’t run by Boy Scouts, you know.”
“Careful. You might paint everyone with that broad brushstroke.”
“I’m right. You’re just too close to Xavier King to see it for yourself.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “Just what I said.” His gaze hardened. “You’re too close.”
“Why are you really pulling me off this case?” she said, taking a risk.
“I just told you.”
“No. You’re insinuating that I can’t do my job.”
He laughed. “Forgive me. I certainly didn’t mean to insinuate that.”
She relaxed.
“I know more than anyone that you go the extra mile to do your job.” Mackey stood up from his chair and walked around his desk. “You’re not above breaking the rules. That’s one of the things that I like about you, Detective Grier. When you want something, you go right out there and you get it.” He stopped in front of her and then surprised her when he brushed his hand against the side of her face. “Don’t you?”
Cheryl flinched away from him. “Damn, Jason. Don’t you ever quit?”
“Not when the stakes are this high.” He smiled.
Her stomach churned with disgust. “Fine! If you pull me off the case, then I’m putting in for a transfer,” she told him. “This has to stop.”
“Did you tell Xavier to stop?”
In Cheryl’s mind her hand whipped across his face. But somehow, some way, she managed to restrain herself. “Are we finished here?”
Mackey’s lips sloped into an uneven smile.
“Tell you what, you have one week with Mr. Lover Boy to prove to me that you can really do your job. If not, you’re off the case. Understand?”
Cheryl nodded.
“Good.” He flashed another smile before calmly turning and walking back over to his desk. “And you can just forget about putting in for a transfer. You’re not going anywhere. Not as long as I’m here. You made your bed. Now, you’re just going to have to lie in it.” He turned toward his computer while giving her a dismissive wave. “You can go now.”
Cheryl pivoted on her heels and stormed out. What in the hell have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 14
Another Friday night and The Dollhouse was packed. It helped that there were so many conventions going on in Atlanta. The Dollhouse Dolls were working hard. And as a result, money was raining left, right and center. With everyone seeming to be in such a great mood, the only two people who were acting like someone had shot their dog were Cheryl and Xavier. It was so obvious that a couple of the Dolls and waitresses started speculating and approached Cheryl to ask whether there was something going on between her and Xavier.
How was it that she was able to keep her cover as a cop, but was unable to hide her emotions toward Xavier from even the bouncers at the door? “There’s nothing going on,” she insisted to Lexus during their brief fifteen-minute break.
“Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that.” Lexus laughed. “Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to convince yourself that it’s the truth. But you ain’t foolin’ nobody with the BS.”
Maybe it is better if Mackey pulls me from this job.
“What?” Lexus laughed. “Why should you be any different from anyone else around here? We’ve all fallen for that man at one time or another—and why not? He’s a great guy. Certainly not the type you would normally think would run a strip club—him or his brothers.”
“I’m sure that he’s glad that you’re giving him such a ringing endorsement.”
“Does hiding behind sarcasm help?
”
Cheryl glanced over at Lexus as she snubbed out her cigarette.
“I didn’t think so.” Lexus turned and strolled from the break room table near the time clock.
Cheryl lingered for a few more minutes while she pulled herself together, but when she finally turned to head back out to her station, she spotted Xavier and Quentin talking in low, hushed tones near the dancers’ dressing rooms. It was no big deal, really, except that she was curious about the large, thick envelope that exchanged hands.
It could be anything, she reasoned. Yet, she couldn’t pull her gaze from the envelope Quentin stuffed into the inside of his jacket. In the next second, a stream of dancers rushed toward the dressing room. As usual, a few of the ladies took the opportunity to flirt openly with the cousins.
Quentin was only too happy to join in.
Xavier just smiled good-naturedly, cracked a joke and then started to stroll off. But then he caught sight of her from the corner of his eye and his long stride slowed. In only a couple of seconds, so much was transmitted between them with just a simple look. Cheryl quickly turned away without as much as a smile before she headed back to the bar.
At her station, she immediately threw herself into work, which included doing a great deal of smiling and flirting of her own. At some point, she had the unmistakable feeling of being watched. But because of the large crowd, it was damn near impossible to pin down just who those pair of eyes belonged to.
In the end, because she couldn’t keep her mind or body from focusing on Xavier, she broke three bottles and messed up a string of drink orders. For her, the night couldn’t end soon enough. But it stretched on, making her feel like a prisoner serving a life sentence.
The doors closed at three, but the last customers didn’t filter out the door until damn near five in the morning. By then, Cheryl was so tired that she was convinced she was going to fall flat on her face before she could make it to her car.
“You go to Ripped Gym, don’t you?”
Cheryl glanced up to see the club’s mammoth bouncer, Dog Pound, smiling down at her. “Sure do.” She squinted. “You look familiar.”
“I should. My uncle owns the place. I’m down there four or five times a week. Getting in my workouts, you know how it is.”
She bobbed her head. “Actually, I do.”
“I’ve seen you down there—always causing a stir with the fellas. Are you thinking about getting into women’s boxing? Heaven knows you’re in shape.”
Her brows shot up.
Dog Pound shrugged. “I ain’t gonna lie. I’ve been checking you out. You got nice form—hand-eye coordination. You should think about it. I could even put in a good word with my uncle. He’s one of the best, you know.”
“Wow. That certainly sounds…interesting.” She finished wiping down her station and then grabbed her duffel bag.
“Don’t tell me that you’ve never thought about it,” Dog Pound needled her as he followed her back toward the time clock. “Surely someone has said something to you before now.”
“Maybe once,” she admitted. “But really, I just like the boxing-workout thing because I enjoy the endorphin high I get from it.”
“I hear you on that,” Dog Pound said, selecting his time card and punching out. Then, he apparently ran out of things to talk about, but he lingered around her awhile and mustered up some more courage. “So, um. Are you seeing anyone?”
“Uhh…” Cheryl drew a blank. Clearly, the gentle giant had a minor crush on her, but she wanted to let him down easy.
“I mean, I was just thinking that we could…I don’t know. Go out for a movie or something sometime.”
“Aw. That’s sounds really nice, but, um, you know, between working here and going to school, I really don’t have a whole lot of time for a social life.” She winced a bit, picking up speed as she walked toward the door. “I’m sorry, but I’m really flattered that you asked.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He shrugged while his gaze zoomed all around.
“How about a rain check?” she offered, since she felt bad for giving him the brush-off.
“No. That’s okay. I understand. You don’t want to go out with me.” He shrugged again. “It’s no big deal. I just thought I’d ask.” They exited out the side door of the club.
“I didn’t say that—”
“Look. I’ll catch up with you later.” He stopsped and then started to hang a right toward his car.
Cheryl stopped and tried to think of something that would restore the man’s pride, but all that happened was her standing there with her mouth hanging open.
“I’ll see you around,” he said, dropping his head and hurrying toward his car.
Great. That went well.
She watched him as he jogged the last few feet to his black SUV. From there, he wasted no time hopping in and starting the vehicle. The way he peeled out of the parking lot, you would have thought that the white flag had been dropped in a drag race. Cheryl closed her eyes and huffed out a long breath. This was definitely not her night. However, when she opened her eyes, she noticed a plastic bag lying on the blacktop in the direction that Dog Pound had just gone.
After glancing around, she rushed to pick it up. It was a small Ziploc bag, but inside were ten smaller packets of white powder. Once it was in her hand, she knew that she didn’t need to taste it to know exactly what it was. She looked in the direction Dog Pound had gone and tried to convince herself that she was mistaken, that the bag of cocaine hadn’t fallen from his jacket. After all, she didn’t exactly see it fall, but the idea of the clubs’ bouncers being the gateway for drug trafficking made sense.
Wait. Even if this belonged to him, it doesn’t mean that he’s dealing. That was true, she realized. But for the first time since she’d started this investigation, there was a bleep on her radar.
“Girl, that man comes in here every night promising to leave his wife for me,” Jada boasted to the group of girls following behind her as they streamed out of the club.
Cheryl shoved the packet into her jeans pocket before flashing an awkward smile. “Night, ladies.”
The dancers glanced in her direction and smiled back. A couple of them looked at her oddly, but nevertheless kept their Doll train moving toward their cars.
“See you ladies tomorrow night,” she said, and then walked toward her own car. The minute she hopped in behind the wheel, she pulled out her keys and her cell phone.
“Hello.”
“Johnnie, it’s me. I think I may finally have something.” Cheryl inserted her key in the ignition. “There’s a guy working the door, who goes by the name Dog Pound. His uncle runs Ripped Gym. Offhand, I don’t know his real name. Can you check him out?” She could hear Johnnie scrambling around on the other end of the line.
“I’ll check into it the minute I get to the office. You really think you got something? Mackey is threatening to shut this down on Monday.”
“I know. Just run the information and get back to me.”
“You got it.”
Cheryl disconnected the call and turned her key. Nothing happened. “No. No. No. Not tonight,” she moaned, and then tried to start the car again. All she heard was one click and then dead air. “Great! Just great!” She jerked open her door and climbed out of the car. Within seconds, she had the hood up and was staring blankly at the battery. She didn’t know why, because the one thing that wasn’t part of her law-enforcement expertise was anything having to do with cars. She knew how to put gas in and when to have the oil changed.
“Is there a problem?”
Cheryl jumped and spun around. There was a mix of dread and relief when she saw Xavier standing behind her. “I, uh… It won’t start.”
He nodded and then moved to stand next to her. “Let’s have a look. Can you try and turn it over for me?”
Cheryl struggled to ignore her body going haywire with him standing so close. For weeks she had been able to avoid this very thing from happening by staying away from him as much a
s possible. So she jumped at the chance to run, or rather hide, behind the wheel to try turning the ignition once again.
Click.
“Are your lights on?” Xavier yelled from under the hood.
Cheryl glanced around the dashboard. “No.”
“It’s your battery. Let me see if I can give you a jump.”
She sighed with relief. “You need some cables? I think I have some in the trunk,” she yelled, and then hopped back out of the car.
“Sure. If you don’t have any, I do,” he called out before heading toward his SUV.
Cheryl searched around her trunk, but came up empty. “Now I know I have some cables back here somewhere,” she mumbled under her breath. She had damn near leaned her entire body into the trunk before she remembered her sister asking to borrow her jumper cables about two months back. “Damn. She didn’t put them back,” she realized.
She heard Xavier pull his vehicle up in front of her car. Cheryl climbed back onto her feet and slammed the trunk down. “Sorry. It looks like my sister didn’t return the cables.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Xavier said, but then added, “I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
There was a brief, awkward silence. “Don’t worry. I have some jumper cables.” He strolled to the back of his SUV and within a couple of seconds came back armed with cables and then propped up his own hood. He quickly attached the appropriate positive and negative cables to the corresponding battery nodes.
“Should I try to start it again?” she asked.
“Let’s give it a minute,” he said, standing to the side of the car and folding his muscular arms.
Cheryl mimicked his pose and tried to keep her eyes on the open hood. However, she was finding it difficult to do. Despite her better judgment, her gaze kept glancing over at him and his incredible body. Nineteen days. That’s how long it had been since she’d felt those heavenly arms wrapped around her body. Nineteen days. That’s how long it had been since his pillow-soft lips had traveled down the length of her body. Nineteen days. That’s how long it had been since he’d eased his way in between her legs, joining their bodies together.
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