by Marcia James
Smokey skittered into the kitchen, ears back and growling. Well, it couldn’t be Dalton. The detective had long ago won over her canine partner with beer nuts and squeak toys.
Dom strode to her coat, which was draped over a kitchen chair, and slipped her gun out of the pocket. Then she walked to the window near the door and peered through a slit in the curtains. Meyers and Suzi stood on her back stoop, at least it appeared to be Suzi with the DEA agent. She was wearing a ski hat over her hair and a scarf across the lower half of her face.
Dom tucked the gun into her jeans and opened the door. Meyers barreled into the kitchen, pushing Suzi in front of him.
“Jesus, Petracelli,” her disagreeable partner bellowed. “What took you so long? We were freezing our nuts off.”
Unwrapping her scarf, Suzi shot him a disgusted look and Smokey gave a delicate sniff before retreating to his dog bed.
Dom locked the back door. “Well, you know what they say, ‘The smaller the body part, the quicker it gets frostbite.’” To change the subject, she added, “With so many people trekking through my backyard, I’ll probably have ruts back there.”
“Maybe you can put in a request for the DEA to reseed your lawn.” Suzi pulled off the cap and fluffed her hair.
“Yeah, when pigs fly.” Meyers shrugged out of his coat. Both women ignored his comment.
“If I’d known you were coming, I’d have stocked up on doughnuts,” Dom only half joked as she peered into her refrigerator for something to offer them.
Smiling, Suzi opened her coat and placed the bag she’d been carrying underneath it on the table. “Bagels. Still warm.”
“Bless you.” Dom hadn’t had time for breakfast, thanks to a quick morning tumble with Dalton. So they’d settled for black coffee. Her stomach rumbled as the yeasty steam from the bag reached her nose.
“Didn’t Dalton tell you about the debriefing?” Suzi asked.
Domino was confused. “No. But if Dalton knew there was a meeting, why’d he leave for the cop shop this morning?”
Suzi turned to Meyers, who frowned. “I left a message on his home phone,” the agent said, his defensive stance plain. “Is it my fault he doesn’t sleep there anymore?”
Dom’s anger flashed and she wished for the millionth time she had a different partner. Meyers was trying to cut Dalton out for personal reasons. She’d have to lay down the law.
“Dalton is a part of this investigation whether you like it or not,” Dom snapped, not caring if she embarrassed Meyers in front of Suzi. “If this setup goes as planned, Dalton will be watching Suzi’s back while our agents stake out the building.” She got in Meyers’ face, her voice tight with fury. “When I send you the text message that Salvi and his men have left the club, you will inform Dalton. Not a message on his home phone or an email to his office. You will call him and tell him it’s on. He deserves to be part of the takedown.”
Meyers’ skin flushed as red as his hair and a muscle clenched in his jaw. “Don’t worry. Your boyfriend won’t miss out on the glory.”
Dom wanted to shout that it wasn’t about the glory but she knew she’d never get through Meyers’ wall of resentment.
“I’ll make coffee to go with the bagels,” Suzi offered, handing her a cell phone. The chance that Domino’s phone was tapped was known by all of them. “Why don’t you call Bull.”
Dom met the woman’s understanding eyes. “Sure. Thanks.”
Dom dialed Dalton’s cell. At least one good thing had come out of all this. She’d be seeing Dalton again very soon.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Suzi stepped through the door to the club’s parking lot and shivered in the frigid air. She zipped up her ski parka and walked to a spot along the outside wall where the ornate roof created a slight overhang. Judging by the number of cigarette butts on the ground, she wasn’t the only employee who imagined this spot offered a little shelter from the arctic wind.
Suzi glanced at her watch. The digital readout glowed the time—10:30 p.m. The next step in Operation Takedown Salvi was at hand. The shiver accompanying this thought had nothing to do with the freezing temperature. She’d felt the club manager’s eyes on her for days and the menace emanating from the man was palpable. Suzi hoped Salvi’d continue to act as they’d predicted, biding his time until the Saturday meeting. She didn’t relish ending up as fish food in the Potomac.
Retrieving her pack of cigarettes, she tapped out one and managed to light it on the third try. She took a shallow puff and tensed as the club’s door swung open. When Suzi recognized Domino, she sighed with relief then choked on the dry smoke.
“Hey, you’re not exactly giving the impression of a veteran smoker here,” Dom joked, striding over and slapping her back.
Suzi’s eyes watered. “Yeah, well, next time I’m buying some of those candy cigarettes and faking it.”
Domino lit her own cigarette. “What we do to solve a case.”
Suzi smiled. In the last week, she’d taken a real liking to the DEA agent. They’d talked about their surreal undercover personas and the club customers they’d encountered. Dom had cracked up at Suzi’s tales, laughing at the ways she’d avoided providing happy endings to her massages. And the agent had shared some of her own kinky client stories. As ambitious women in a predominantly male law enforcement world, they had a lot in common. And Suzi was tempted to confide in the agent.
Studying the cigarette’s glowing tip, Suzi asked, “Are you attracted to any of your customers? I mean, besides Dalton?”
“No. None of them do a thing for me.”
“There’s this one massage client…” Suzi began, wanting to talk about Calvin. “There’s something different about him.”
Domino turned toward Suzi, her interest clear. “Is this someone you could get in touch with once the case is over?”
“There are complications.” Suzi gritted her teeth against the cold. Belatedly, she realized it wasn’t the time or place to discuss her pathetic love life. “Damn, I’ll fill you in later when we’re somewhere warm with a pitcher of beer.” She dropped her cigarette and ground it out. “Besides, I’m just procrastinating. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Dom nodded, put out her cigarette and walked to the door.
“Domino,” Suzi called after her. The agent looked back. “Just for the record, I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Bull.”
Dom grinned, as she stepped inside the door. “If he ever pisses me off, I’ll be sure to pass along your comment.” Then as they’d arranged, she left the door ajar so she could eavesdrop and snitch to Salvi.
Suzi opened her phone and dialed Dalton.
“Yeah?” The detective’s gruff voice rumbled in her ear.
“Your phone manners need work,” she said then continued before he could interrupt. “Let’s do this.”
“Okay. Got your script memorized, Cho?”
“How’s this?” Suzi said for Dalton’s benefit then launched into their prepared conversation. “It’s on? That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” She paused as though listening before speaking again. “Saturday at the old printer’s building below Georgetown. The one that was supposed to be developed into loft apartments before the developers went belly-up?”
“Don’t forget to say the time,” he reminded her.
“Ten p.m., got it,” Suzi played her part with grim aplomb. “And you’re sure the Cabazone snitch’ll be there?”
“I only wish we really had a Cabazone snitch,” Dalton muttered. “I hate like hell setting you up as bait.”
“No problem,” she said, staying on script while trying to reassure her friend. “I’ll call in sick and be in place by nine. We’re going to take these bastards down.”
“See you at the house,” he said, referring to Dom’s place.
“Right.” She ended the call and put away her phone. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the door close. It was Dom’s ball now and she was carrying it into enemy territory.
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* * * * *
“So I reported to Salvi and fed him the information just as we discussed.” Domino paced her kitchen as she related the story to Dalton and Suzi. This time none of them had bothered to include Meyers in their informal debriefing.
“How’d Salvi react?” Suzi asked.
“He didn’t, which made it worse.” A bead of sweat trickled down her back as Dom remembered the controlled fury radiating off the club manager. “He sat behind his desk, his hands folded, and listened to what I said. He didn’t even make notes. I thought how strange his manicured hands looked compared to his cold-blooded eyes.” Still restless, Dom flopped into a chair at the kitchen table. “Seeing polished nails on that man will probably give me the creeps for years.”
“How do you feel about men getting pedicures?” Dalton asked, breaking the tension.
Dom grinned, for a moment losing herself in his warm gaze.
“That’s my cue to leave.” Suzi shrugged on her coat.
“Watch your back, Cho,” Dalton warned. “We’ve set some pretty nasty things in motion.”
“I’ll watch my back, my front and everything in between, I swear.” Suzi saluted them, stepped to the mudroom and slipped out the back door, closing it behind her.
Dom stared after her. It was amazing how much she’d come to enjoy the irreverent detective in such a short time.
“Alone at last.” Dalton wiggled his eyebrows. The gesture was spoiled when Smokey, carrying a small rubber ball, hopped into his lap. Domino laughed at the domestic scene.
“You know, when this case is over, I’ll be keeping Smokey at my house,” she said. “The agent who’s been boarding him just got engaged to a girl who’s allergic to animals.”
Dalton took the ball and tossed it. The skinny pooch leaped after it, snatching the ball and rolling with it on the floor. When Dom looked back at Dalton, his eyes were shuttered.
“But what happens to Smokey if your next assignment is out of town?” he asked.
Was he was fishing for her future plans? Was he interested in continuing their relationship after they arrested Salvi? She better not get her hopes up. “I’ve applied for an assistant directorship position. If I get it, I’ll be working out of the Virginia office.”
Reaching down, Dalton pulled her feet into his lap. He slipped off her shoes and began massaging her instep. Dom moaned. She didn’t know what was more incredible—his soothing fingers or the fact Dalton had realized her stiletto-wearing feet were sore. She could get used to this pampering.
After several minutes, he asked her another question. “You’re going to give up undercover work for a desk job?”
“I’d still be involved in investigations.” She felt drowsy as his hands stroked her aching tendons. “Just more on the planning and management side.” Dom dropped her head against the chair back and closed her eyes. “I’ve worked hard for years for this promotion. I’ve never wanted anything more.”
“Well, you’re off the clock for tonight.” He placed her feet back on the floor. She made a protesting noise. Chuckling, Dalton pulled her out of the chair and over his shoulder in a smooth, unexpected motion.
“Hey!” Dom’s nose bumped his back as he carried her down the hall. “A fireman’s lift is not sexy. Did Rhett Butler sling Scarlett around like a rag doll in Gone With The Wind?”
Dalton laughed, the sexy sound seeping through her indignation. “Babe, I don’t think Scarlett was quite as tall and, uh, healthy as you are.”
“‘Healthy’? That better not be a euphemism for ‘fat’.”
While she fumed, Dalton strode into her bedroom and closed the door in Smokey’s face. Then he flipped her onto the bed, falling on her before she could bounce upright.
“I love every lush inch and healthy curve.” He took her mouth in a way that proved his statement.
Domino’s head filled with longing as her heart stuttered over his words. He loved her body. Maybe, someday, he’d care as much for the woman inside. Then she’d be able to admit her own feelings, the ones she’d denied until they’d grown so large she had to fight to keep them hidden. I love you, Dalton.
* * * * *
Calvin squeezed his sedan into a mostly legal parking spot outside the Adams Morgan apartment building. Switching on the car’s map light, he double-checked the address against his handwritten note. It was the right place. With luck, she’d be home.
He turned off the light and considered what he was about to do. It could cost him his job but this was one of those gray areas between the legal blacks and whites. And if he didn’t follow his gut, Calvin knew he’d regret it.
Today, the FBI had received the proof they needed to arrest the Slavic masseuses. The misinformation he’d planted with Ilona and Vania had been sold to terrorist countries. Tomorrow night, he and his team would take the masseuses into custody and close down the Xecutive Branch. Calvin had no delusions about the sex club remaining closed. But the raid would spell trouble for Suzi and other innocent employees. There wasn’t much he could offer Suzi personally but at least he could keep her away from this mess. With a sigh, he opened his car door.
* * * * *
Suzi tossed away her takeout food containers and wiped clean her chrome kitchen table. Thanks to the veritable United Nations of ethnic restaurants in her Adams Morgan neighborhood, she could get a different to-go meal every night for a year. But sometimes she wished she had someone to cook for.
She glanced at the inflatable male doll propped in a chair by the table, his glassy eyes vacant and his erection unflagging. “Well, Dick, I guess I could cook for you and freeze the leftovers.” But the idea held no attraction.
Thoughts of the next evening’s Cabazone snitch meeting pushed through her musings. What if Salvi found a way around the security tomorrow and took her out? What if the club manager planted a bomb at the site despite all precautions?
“What if, what if, what if…” she muttered.
Suzi would bite off her tongue before admitting this case had her worried. No one thought Salvi would make a move on her before the meeting, but she’d taken to carrying her weapon in a holster at the small of her back whenever she was away from the club. Even now, in her own apartment, she was still wearing the gun. Damn, she’d be glad when Salvi was behind bars.
The doorbell’s chime made her jump. Refusing to give in to her nerves but glad the front door was reinforced steel, Suzi walked quietly to her foyer and peered through her peephole.
Calvin.
Shocked, she stared as he pushed her doorbell a second time. What the hell was Calvin doing here? He couldn’t be working for Salvi. But she kept her right hand on her hip near her holster as she unlocked and opened the door.
“Don’t tell me,” she said before he could speak. “You were passing by and felt a desperate need for a late-night massage.”
The corners of his mouth quirked then he looked ill at ease. “No. I was hoping to talk with you. Just for a minute,” he added when she didn’t welcome him in.
Suzi stood, blocking the doorway. “It’s been a long night. Maybe we can meet for coffee on Sunday.”
“That’ll be too late,” he snapped. His eyes swept her face, reading her discomfort. “Listen, I didn’t want to tell you this in the hallway but I’m not who I said I was at the club.”
He held out an ID folder and Suzi took her eyes off him for a second to glance at the official document. FBI. Stunned, she looked at the folder more closely. The massage client she knew as Calvin T., the State Department employee, was actually FBI Agent Calvin Taylor.
“I was undercover so I couldn’t tell you—”
“OhmiGod.” Suzi burst into laughter, interrupting his explanation. When he made a face, the one men make when they think a woman’s hysterical, she only laughed harder. How many D.C. agencies had people undercover at the club? Gaining some control over her amusement, she wiped at the tears leaking from her eyes and waved Calvin into her apartment.
He walked into the
foyer and stared at her with a mix of frustration and concern. “What the hell’s so funny?”
“I can’t believe this,” Suzi gasped between lingering chuckles. “First Domino and Dalton, now us.”
She watched Calvin notice the inflatable man in her kitchen and do a double take. His appalled expression brought another bout of giggles. Suzi pressed her palm into her stomach, which was beginning to hurt. “Don’t mind Dick, he’s a practice massage dummy. Let’s go to the living room to talk.”
Calvin nodded and proceeded her the few steps it took to reach her living room. Like the rest of her apartment, the furniture was an eclectic blend of antiques and kitsch. After a brief hesitation, he sat down on her fake fur couch. She took the matching chair across from it.
“Look, the FBI is investigating the club,” he began. “I think you should quit your job.”
“Calvin—”
He held up a hand. “I could get fired for coming here but I don’t want you involved in this mess. With your skills, you could get a better job.”
She snickered, smothering it when he shot her a glare. “Dammit, Suzi, this is serious. I don’t want you arrested.”
Warmth spread through her at his obvious concern. It was time to come clean. Leaning forward, she pressed a few spots on the Chinese puzzle box resting on her vintage coffee table. When the hidden drawer opened, she slipped out her badge and handed it to him.
Now it was his turn to look stunned. “Metro PD?”
“We’re working a joint case with the DEA at the club.”
He smiled, looking sheepish. “No wonder you cracked up.”
“At first we didn’t know the DEA was investigating drug trafficking at the club.” Suzi sobered. “I went undercover on a homicide case. How about you?”
“The FBI has some interest in the foreign nationals there.”
“Ah, I see.” Her North Korean national cover story had fooled the Feds as well as the club.
