Неизвестный - 6. Justice For All

“You’re not driving, are you?”

“No, Watts is my ride. He went back to headquarters to finish up some paperwork. I’ll call him to pick me up outside of Sloan’s.”

Sandy jumped up and wrapped her arm around Rebecca’s waist when Rebecca swayed. “Gimme your frickin’ phone and tell me his number.”

“It’s number two on speed dial.” Rebecca didn’t resist the help.

She really did feel like crap.

v

“So,” Vincent asked when Angelo picked up the phone. “You doing anything over there besides pulling your crank?”

“Hell, yeah.” Angelo raised his left shoulder to hold the phone against his ear while he handled the video camera. “Are you sure you don’t have me watching some kind of whorehouse? There’s more action going on in that building than in some of our joints.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like girls coming and going. Real lookers and real friendly-like.

Some of them are dykes for sure.”

“Heard that. You getting ID?”

“They’re not wearing name tags, but I’ve shot some great footage.

Real boner material.”

• 40 •

Justice for All

“Just keep it in your pants. The boss wants to know who’s shacked up with who.”

“There’s some little blonde who looks like she’s servicing the whole team. She has to know plenty. We ought to put one of the boys on her.”

“Don’t worry. The boys are gonna be plenty busy soon. See you in the morning, and you better have more than tits and ass on film.”

“Believe me, I’ve got plenty.” Angelo dropped the cell phone on the windowsill and zoomed in on the face of a tall, chiseled blonde in casual clothing who climbed into the passenger side of a Crown Vic.

Had to be a cop. When the car pulled away, the skinny little whore in the red leather jacket went back into the building. Man, she was a busy little beaver. He settled back into his chair and laughed at his own joke.

v

“Hey, babe,” Dell said as Sandy leaned against her back and wrapped her arms around her from behind. She shivered when Sandy kissed the side of her neck. Technically, she wasn’t on duty, but she was scanning shipping manifests for Jason, looking for discrepancies that might indicate other deliveries of girls from Eastern Europe. “I’m sort of working here.”

“And I’m sort of hungry. Maybe a few other things too.”

Dell grinned, closed the file she was working on, and swirled her chair around. “Yeah? Already?”

Sandy let out an uncharacteristic squeal as Dell pulled her down into her lap and nuzzled her neck. “Jesus, Dell,” she snapped, pushing her away. “What if Sloan walks in?”

“She won’t care.”

“Well, Frye would kick your ass.”

Dell stiffened. “She’s still here?”

“No. Watts is taking her home. She shouldn’t have been here at all this afternoon. What’s wrong with the bunch of you?”

“She’s the boss. She calls the shots.”

Sandy snorted. “Are you gonna take me somewhere for dinner or do I have to go by myself?”

“I’m done here for now. Take off your jacket.”

• 41 •

RADclY fFe

Sandy punched her. “I said not here. Geez, rookie. What’s wrong with you?”

Dell rose, pulled her leather jacket off the back of a nearby chair, and held it out.

“I don’t want your jacket,” Sandy said.

“You do if you want a ride. You’ll freeze in what you’re wearing.”

Dell waited. “Besides, it turns me on when you wear my clothes.”

Sandy rolled her eyes, but she took off her skimpy vinyl number and accepted the black leather jacket Dell slung around her shoulders.

“What about you?”

“You’ll figure out some way to keep me warm.”

“If you’re lucky.” Sandy slowly ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip.

“I’m always lucky.” Dell kissed her quickly and held up five fingers as she started away. “See you downstairs.”

When Dell pulled up in front of the building on her Ducati, Sandy climbed on behind her, leaving the heavy leather jacket unzipped. It enclosed them like a tent as she wrapped her arms around Dell’s waist.

The only thing between her breasts and Dell’s back was her thin bra and Dell’s T-shirt. Sandy’s nipples got hard.

“I’m not so hungry anymore,” she breathed, licking the rim of Dell’s ear. “Maybe we should just go home.”

Dell grabbed one of Sandy’s hands and cupped it in her crotch.

“We’ll pick up some takeout and eat it in bed. Later.”

Sandy laughed and squeezed until Dell yanked her hand away.

“Much later.”

v

Angelo craned his neck to watch as the motorcycle roared down the street. Then he shut off his video camera. “Gotcha.”

• 42 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER FOUR

Catherine slowed as she turned the corner onto her block, a five-minute walk from the hospital. Streetlights in her West Philadelphia neighborhood of Victorian twins were few and far between, making visibility a challenge, but she thought she recognized the dingy gray Crown Victoria idling at the curb in front of her house. She told herself she was imagining things. It couldn’t possibly be a departmental vehicle, and the hulking form behind the wheel couldn’t possibly be William Watts. It was almost 7:00 p.m. and Rebecca must have been home hours ago. William wouldn’t be coming by to discuss business at this hour. He knew Rebecca needed more recovery time.

Catherine took a few steps, chiding herself for her overactive imagination. She’d barely slept in the last few days and had been stressed and apprehensive in the weeks leading up to the raid. It didn’t matter that she knew Rebecca was superb at her job, or that the odds of a mortal injury were low. She didn’t believe in statistics, not where the woman she loved was concerned. So she’d worried and tried to keep her fear from distracting Rebecca. Because Rebecca would do what Rebecca would do, and she needed all of her mind on the job to do it safely. Then Catherine had opened the door in the middle of the night to find Sloan on the porch, and for one terrifying second the rest of her life gaped empty and barren before her. Rational thought or even the reality of Rebecca beside her could not mitigate the agony of that moment. It would haunt her forever.

Let it go, she thought, although she suspected that was one battle she wouldn’t win.

Then Rebecca climbed out of the passenger side of the sedan.

• 43 •

RADclY fFe

She didn’t notice Catherine but walked slowly up to the house, obviously exhausted. For a few seconds, Catherine hovered on the verge of turning and walking away, she was that angry. Not only angry. Hurt.

At times like these, being a psychiatrist was not the least bit helpful.

It didn’t matter that she knew what she should do, what she should say, what might help defuse the emotional situation. It didn’t matter that she understood some of the things that drove Rebecca to drive herself. At this moment, she didn’t care about all the things she knew or sympathized with. She was hurt and disappointed and frightened, and thinking her way through this was not going to be easy.

She waited until the Crown Victoria pulled away because she didn’t want Watts to witness anything personal between her and Rebecca.

Rebecca would hate for a colleague to get a glimpse of their private life, and Catherine was far too personally reserved to allow it either.

Rebecca, moving at only a fraction of her normal pace, had just reached the landing in front of the door when Catherine fished her house keys from her briefcase and climbed the four broad marble stairs to reach around her.

“Are you just coming home?” Catherine fitted her key into the lock.