Connie Bailey - Miles to Go

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Connie Bailey - Miles to Go Page 3

by Connie Bailey


  “You better. Good night, mi hermano.” WHEN Rick arrived for work, Gareth and Levere stood under the porte-cochere of the big house, about to get into the gleaming BMW sedan idling in the drive.

  “We have to go out for a bit,” Gareth said. “I’m going to trust you with one of my most treasured possessions. Billy wants to go shopping and I’d like you to escort him. Paul can tell you how we do things around here.”

  With that, Gareth got into the back and Levere got in after him. Epiphano glared at Rick from behind the wheel until Rick blew a kiss at him. Dropping the big car into gear, Epiphano drove away a bit faster than necessary.

  Paul Macross was in the foyer and quick to draw down on Rick until he recognized him. “Sorry, man,” Paul said. “I knew you were coming, but I get a little overzealous. Gareth left orders; you ready for a day on Rodeo Drive?”

  Rick shrugged. “If that’s what Gareth wants.”

  “It’s what Billy wants,” Paul said. “Which is almost the same thing these days.”

  Rick lowered his voice. “Are you telling me that Gareth is peniswhipped?” he asked.

  Paul grinned. “Something like that. It’ll pass. Meanwhile, you get to babysit.”

  “So, is he ready, or do I just wait around?” Paul grinned again. “It’s only ten o’clock. You’ve got a little while to wait. In the meantime, I’ll show you where you’ll be bunking. You’ll like your new crib. The boss might be a stone-cold bastard that would kill you for looking at him cross-eyed, but he does take care of the help in style.”

  Rick picked up his bag and followed Paul to a nice set of rooms on the second floor where he was left alone to put his things away. When he was finished, he came down the stairs of the west wing and found Billy bitching out Paul in the front hall. The bodyguard saw Rick and an expression of relief spread over his face.

  “Here’s Rick now,” Paul said. “I told you it would only be five minutes.” “And you were right,” Billy said. “I’m sure this represents some sort of achievement for your species, but pardon me if I don’t open any champagne. Shoo now.” The young man waved Paul off. “You can go about your business.”

  “My pleasure,” Paul said, shooting Rick a sympathetic look as he turned away.

  “Are you ready?” Rick asked, sweeping past before Billy could speak.

  The young man had no choice but to follow Rick outside if he wanted to talk to him. “Where are you going?” Billy called out. “The garage. Unless you want to take my car.”

  “We didn’t have to come outside to get to the garage,” Billy pointed out.

  “I like being outside,” Rick said. “It’s not all about you, you know.”

  “It is as long as you work for Gareth,” Billy said as they walked into the enormous garage.

  “No job is worth compromising my values,” Rick said, looking around at the vehicles.

  “Fuck, I just knew you were going to say something like that,” Billy muttered. “What?” Rick turned from admiring the silver Maserati Spyder. “Nothing,” Billy said. “You want to take that one?”

  “Can we?”

  Billy shrugged. “If the keys are in it, I don’t think anyone can stop us.”

  “You wouldn’t try to get me in trouble with the boss on first day, now would you?” “I’m the one that put in a good word for you.” “True. Okay, you talked me into it. We’ll take the Spyder.”

  A few breathless minutes later, Rick screeched to a stop behind a car pulling away from the curb and nabbed the parking space. As he turned off the powerful engine, he was aware of Billy staring at him over his sunglasses. “Abduction-evasion driving course,” Rick said in answer to the inquiring look.

  “Good job,” Billy answered. “I think we lost all imaginary pursuit. Along with my breakfast.”

  “Bullshit. I know an adrenaline junkie when I see one,” Rick said as he opened the door. “You loved it.”

  “Yeah,” Billy dimpled in an inordinately appealing expression. “I did.”

  “Well, come on,” Rick said brusquely. “Let’s shop.” “Let me get one thing out of the way, and I can spend Gareth’s money without worrying about it. You don’t have to come into the shop if you don’t want to.”

  “Very funny,” Rick said. “Like I’d let you out of my sight. What the hell does a store called Shonen AImage sell, anyway?” Billy opened the mirrored door and Rick followed him into the cool interior. It was immediately apparent to Rick why they didn’t have their wares in the window. The shop obviously catered to an upscale, arty segment of the S&M and bondage crowd. The white walls were screens for projected images of anime-style characters in various compromising positions. The black shelves held dildos and other gadgets that looked like they came from C-3PO’s toy chest. Hanging from the ceiling were mannequins posed like superheroes of discipline, wearing the store’s line of dominant/submissive gear. Rick was no prude, but a few of the items made him blink.

  “Sure you don’t want to wait outside?” Billy asked as a young Asian woman approached on five-inch stiletto heels of bright red patent leather.

  “I’m fine,” Rick said. “Take your time.” The undercover cop made a circuit of the store and arrived back at the counter as the sales clerk handed Billy a realistic-looking dildo. Hefting the flesh-colored false cock, Billy wrapped his fingers around it and shook his head. The leather cheongsam-clad woman said something in Japanese, and to Rick’s surprise, Billy answered in the same language. Another dildo was taken from the glass case and presented with a small bow. Obviously produced by the same manufacturer, this phallus differed from the last only in length and circumference as evidenced by Billy’s failure to get his fist around it. A few more soft words in Japanese and the toy was carefully wrapped in black tissue paper and placed in a silver box tied with crimson ribbon. It then went into an elegant black and silver bag with the shop’s name dripping redly down the side.

  “Let’s go,” Billy said. “I feel the need to spend more of Gareth’s money than usual today.” Rick didn’t comment as he followed the kid in and out of stores as Billy tried on and purchased enough clothing, shoes, and accessories for a long cruise. Three hours and somewhere around eleven thousand dollars later, Billy asked if Rick was hungry. To Rick’s surprise, the young man didn’t lead them to a trendy expensive bistro, but to a Lebanese man with a cart. Billy asked for a vegetarian kebab and Rick told the man to make it two. Adding bottles of water to their purchases, they carried the food back to the car. At the first bite, they realized just how hungry they were and devoured the wraps. Rick forgot for a moment that they weren’t just two ordinary human beings fulfilling a basic need. He grinned at Billy as he displayed his empty wrapper, licked clean of spicy hummus smears.

  “Man, I really wolfed that down,” he said. “Mmm,” Billy said, licking tahini from his fingers. “That was good. Don’t you love it when the tabbouleh is freshly made and…” The young man words trailed off as he looked up at Rick’s silhouette haloed by the late afternoon sun. Without his shades, Billy’s eyes were dazzled as the light turned the ends of Rick’s hair into a golden corona, masking his strong features with shadow. For that moment, he could have been any big, blond man, and Billy felt a pang of longing so powerful he almost doubled over.

  “You okay?” Rick asked. “You look like you saw a ghost.” “Sorry. Why am I bothering you with my chatter? You probably want to get back and polish your bullets, or whatever you hard cunts do when you’re not shooting people.”

  Rick raised his eyebrows. “You taking anything for those mood swings?” he asked.

  “Just drive me home, please,” Billy said, crumpling his wrapper and tossing it to the floor of the sports car.

  Rick reached across and picked up the ball of paper, placing it in the bag with his. “Home it is,” he said equably. Rick parked the Spyder in the garage and Billy got out immediately. As the kid hurried away, Rick made a snap decision to speak about the thing he’d been mulling over all day. “Hang on a second.” Rick
got out and faced Billy across the hood. “You’re going to tell me, quite rightly, that this is none of my business, but I have to say it. Not necessarily because I care about you, or have a heart of gold, but because I’ll probably get stuck disposing of your carcass when Gareth catches you screwing around.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” “I was in several dressing rooms with you today,” Rick said. “I saw the bruises. Hey, maybe I’m just naïve and you like it that way, but I don’t think you do. And if you keep playing with fire…well, you know what they say.”

  “What the bloody fuck are you talking about?”

  “I’m referring to your clandestine activities with Levere, or does Gareth know about that?” “I doubt it,” Billy said.

  “Well, what do you think he’d do if he found out?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll bet it’s the same thing he’d do if he found out you were a cop.” Rick stared at the young man, hoping his shock didn’t show on his face. “Why would you say something like that? Are you trying to get me killed?”

  “Relax,” Billy said. “I’m not going to tell anybody.” “There’s nothing to tell,” Rick said, coming around the car.

  Billy leaned close to Rick and spoke softly. “Is that right, Officer Miles?”

  Rick’s blood ran cold as fjord water, as his brain went into overdrive trying to figure out how Billy knew his name. “You didn’t nick me for anything,” Billy said. “I saw you when you visited London a few years ago. You attended a ceremony in which officers from police forces around the world were honored.”

  “I was part of an honor guard,” Rick remembered. “Of course, that was before I came out of the closet. Not many honors after that.” Billy nodded his understanding of all that Rick’s words implied. “You didn’t quit though,” he said.

  Rick hesitated before he spoke again. “We can talk about it sometime, if you want, but not here.”

  “Do we have an understanding then?” Rick mimed zipping his lips and reached into the car for the shockingly small number of bags that represented so much money spent.

  “Hey, one more thing. I was wondering; why does Gareth call you all those weird pet names?” Rick asked, as Billy took the bags off his hands at the stairs.

  “Who knows?” Billy looked back over his shoulder and shrugged as he started up the steps. “He’s mad,” the young man said simply. “A genuine lunatic.”

  Rick frowned and went to the office Paul had shown him. Gareth was there, talking on the phone behind a massive mahogany desk. Epiphano sat in a comfortable chair flipping through a magazine. The big man looked up at Rick and scowled before returning to his reading.

  “Rick,” Gareth said as he hung up. “How was your day?” “Uneventful,” Rick said. “And yours?”

  “Afraid I can’t say the same, mate,” Gareth answered. “I had a very exciting meeting today with a new vendor. This supplier is currently overstocked and willing to part with product for a greatly reduced price so long as we buy in bulk. Naturally, this means that the deal with the Mexican Mafia is off. I just can’t come up with that much cash.”

  Rick pursed his lips. “High-Tone won’t be happy if you break the deal.” “The deal’s broken,” Gareth said, leaning forward in his chair. “All except for telling Marcial about it. I need you to do that for me, Rick.”

  “Do I look suicidal?” Rick asked. “That’s the task I’m setting you,” Gareth said. “Smooth this over with High-Tone, or make the problem go away however you see fit. Your reward will match the deed.”

  “This is the real test, isn’t it?” Rick said.

  “It will certainly prove your worth,” Gareth replied. “Do you think I’d even consider sending Epiphano or Levere?” Movement drew Rick’s gaze to the window behind Gareth. Billy had changed into a Speedo and was walking out to the pool. The bright red bathing suit demanded attention, but Rick dragged his eyes back to his boss. “When?” Rick asked.

  “That’s entirely up to you,” Gareth said. “But the sooner the better.” Rick looked out the window again at the blue sky, white clouds, and tanned body in red Lycra, and smiled. “It’s a good day to die,” he said.

  “I like your spirit. Come and find me when you get back.” “Will do,” Rick said as he left the room.

  For about two seconds, standing there in the hall, Rick considered walking out the door and walking away from the case. Hell, it wasn’t even an official case and one of the gang had already seen through his cover. He had no guarantee Billy wouldn’t inform on him as soon as he was gone and now he had the wild card of a new set of drug dealers. It was starting to fall apart fast. He should cut his losses before he lost everything.

  The two seconds passed and Rick continued down the hall and out to his car. He had a good idea where High-Tone Marcial could be found at this time of day.

  ~ Chapter Four ~

  “HOLA, carnale!”

  Rick grinned at the greeting and embraced the man that delivered it, answering in kind. “Muy bonito!” Rick exclaimed as he squeezed Marcial’s ass cheek.

  The handsome Latin man smiled warmly and gestured to a chair. “Sit, mi vero amigo, and tell me what you want now.”

  “I know I’m a big pain in your excellent ass right now, but I need another favor.”

  “And what might that be?” Marcial asked, dismissing Perez and Allende with his eyes. “Don’t kill me right away.”

  “Why should I want to kill you?”

  “I’m here to tell you that Mr. Carey is backing out of your deal.”

  Marcial rose to his feet and glared at the undercover cop. “Que barbaridad!” High-Tone shouted. “Mierda, pendejo. Un vero cabron. Ai!” The door opened and Allende stuck his head in only to be angrily ordered back out. Marcial took several deep breaths and sat back down. “What is that asshole thinking?”

  “He says he found another vendor that’ll undercut your price.” “Chingate!” Marcial swore hotly. “Who would be so…pendejada! I can’t believe it!” “I told him,” Rick said. “I told him you’d be pissed, but he…” “He already thinks he runs El Lay,” Marcial finished for him.

  “Something like that,” Rick nodded. “He has no fear, Tonio. I’ll admit this to you and my partner and no one else, but Hairy Carey scares me.”

  “Then do something about this chi-chi cabron,” Marcial said. “Or you can bet your boots that I will.”

  Rick smiled again. “You still say ‘bet your boots.’”

  “And you still look like the shit-kicker you really are, caballero,” Marcial said.

  “Kicked your ass a few times, if that’s what you mean,” Rick answered. “Hey, cowboy,” Marcial said, abruptly serious. “I owe you a debt that is impossible to repay. What is a sister’s life worth, eh? If not for you, Penelope would not have lived to marry and give me nieces and nephews to spoil.”

  “But?” Marcial cast his eyes toward the ceiling, took a deep breath, and faced Rick again. “It shames me to have to say these words. I understand that you want to arrest this cabron and regain your good reputation, but I am afraid that will not happen. My instincts tell me that this Englishman will die soon.”

  “Tonio, don’t,” Rick said. “Don’t start a war because a tourist was rude to you. Let me take him down. I need this collar.” “There are many high-profile criminals in this town,” Marcial said. “Pick another one.” “I can’t start over, Tonio,” Rick said. “I’m in with Carey, and I’m staying. If you come after him, you’ll find me standing guard. I know it’s fucked up, but that’s the way it is.”

  The two men locked eyes for a long moment before the opening of the door broke the tension. Marcial’s dark eyes glinted with suppressed anger as he turned.

  “Sorry,” Perez said. “Mrs. Fortunato’s on the phone. You’re gonna be late, patron.” Marcial nodded curtly. “Tell her I’m on my way,” he said. “Rick…. Ai, Dios mio, this is not right. I don’t want you to get hurt, but I can’t let this picaflor disrespect me.”

&nb
sp; Rick stood. “You’ve got someplace to be,” he said. “And I’ve delivered my message. I’ll get going now.”

  “Birthday party,” Marcial said. “Eight years ago today, my nephew Fernando came into the world.”

  “Congratulate Penelope for me,” Rick said. “She’s the one that did all the work.”

  Marcial chuckled and stood to embrace Rick warmly. “Vaya con Dios,” he said.

  “Promise me you’ll think about backing off,” Rick said. Marcial opened the door for the policeman. “Sure,” he said. “And you think about getting the hell away from that Diablo loco. If not me, someone will come after him. He pushes too hard, too fast. Nobody wants to do business with a madman.”

  “YOU’RE still in one piece,” Epiphano greeted Rick.

  “You sound disappointed,” Rick observed. Epiphano shrugged. “I’m cooled off, mate,” he said. “You were just trying to impress the boss, and I won’t hold a grudge against you for that.”

  “Good,” Rick said. “I like a nice, cordial working atmosphere.” Epiphano almost smiled. “Come on,” the muscleman said. “Gareth will want to talk to you.” “There you are,” Gareth said brightly as Rick entered his office. “Somehow I knew you were going to come back. Geordie, this is Rick that I was telling you about.”

  Rick turned as a big man with several days’ worth of dark stubble stood and extended a hand. Rick returned Geordie’s firm grip and turned to Gareth. “Any relation?” Rick asked, looking from Gareth to Geordie and back.

  Gareth shook his head. “A lot of people ask that, but no, we’re not related. Geordie worked for me back in the UK. He managed to find his way back to my side despite the best efforts of police on two continents to keep us apart.”

  Gareth and Geordie’s eyes met with a click that was almost audible. Rick raised an eyebrow, as the tension grew tauter with each passing moment. The undercover cop resisted the mad urge to scream at them to go ahead and fuck, or fight, or both.

 

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