Неизвестный - 5. Justice Served

Justice Served

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rebecca piloted the Corvette through the narrow one-way streets of South Philadelphia. Watts, hunched in the passenger seat beside her, was for once mercifully silent. Turning left onto Delaware Avenue, the wide four-lane highway that ran along the waterfront, she drove north until she reached the parking lot adjacent to the Maritime Museum. She parked alongside the huge wooden pilings, interconnected by rusted links of chain, that formed the only barrier between someone standing on the blacktop and the roiling brown water of the Delaware River twenty feet below.

Wordlessly, she switched off the engine and slid out. A moment later, Watts joined her at the edge of the pier. Directly below them, a Þ fteen-foot-square wooden dock rocked on the water, matching the rhythm of the ebb and ß ow of the currents. The chalk outlines of the two bodies that had lain there six months before had been washed away by the waves and the rain in the intervening months. But Rebecca could still see, with photographic clarity, exactly how her partner Jeff Cruz and the undercover narcotics detective, Jimmy Hogan, had looked.

Right down to the small, neat, matching holes in the backs of their heads. Her hands closed into Þ sts.

“Loo?” Watts asked carefully.

“We should have something by now, Watts.” Rebecca’s tone was pensive, her expression brooding. “We’ve been taking bites out of the Zamora operation all summer—even made a few busts, grabbed a few headlines.” She snorted derisively. “But we can’t get a handle on who killed two of our own.” She turned her head, gave Watts a hard stare.

“What the fuck are we missing?”

“Well, you know, we Þ gure it was a contract hit, right?

Untraceable.”

Rebecca stared back at the water. “We might never get the

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triggerman. But whoever gave the order is right here.” She let her gaze follow the river south, then half turned and swept the city skyline.

“Jimmy and Jeff—one of them was getting close to something big.

Something so big it made killing two cops an acceptable risk.”

“This pornography ring,” Watts offered. “Shutting that down has got to be taking a chunk out of Zamora’s income. Maybe Hogan got wind of it through his drug connections and wanted to clue you and Cruz in. And maybe that’s what got them killed.”

“How long do you think it will be before this network is up and running again? Or one just like it?”

Watts shrugged as he Þ ngered a cigarette from his pocket. “Half a year, maybe. The equipment doesn’t cost much, there’s always plenty of perverts, and a new crop of girls hits the streets every day.”

Rebecca nodded. “You know it. I know it. So does Zamora. Why take the chance of bringing the full attention of the PPD down on your head for six months’ income?” She shook her head. “Just doesn’t play.”

“Maybe Jimmy got wind of a big drug shipment. An eighteen-wheeler full of blow is deÞ nitely worth a couple of bodies.”

“Agreed.” Absently, Rebecca leaned forward with both hands braced on the wooden piling in an attempt to stretch the tight muscles in her chest. Between the surgical incisions and the damage from the gunshot wound, the left side of her chest was constantly in spasm. It didn’t help, and she pushed off with an irritated shake of her head.

“Except I have to believe that Jimmy would’ve told someone in narco about it and not us. We’re sex crimes, not drugs.”

“Yeah, can’t argue.” Watts ß icked the butt into the river. “Something in the middle. It always comes back to that.”

“The currency of ß esh.”

“Huh?”

Rebecca regarded Watts solemnly. “Sex. It sells, it pays, it’s the common denominator that runs through every branch of Zamora’s organization. We have to concentrate on the girls.”

“Yeah,” Watts spat in frustration. “But what about them? Most of them have no pasts we can trace, no permanent address, and no interest in helping us. It’s like they’re right there in front of us and invisible at the same time.”

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Justice Served

“Exactly. We need to start creating some solid proÞ les. Facts, not fantasies.”

Watts snorted. “Should be a snap. And just where do you plan on starting?”

“Ziggie’s.”

v

“Honey?”

“Yeah?” Sandy replied, leaning into the closet as she sorted through the clothes in a faded ß oral brocade suitcase she’d brought from her apartment.

“I’m gonna need your help a little later on tonight, so can you plan on being back here around midnight? I mean, if you’re going out?”

Slowly, Sandy pivoted, a white satin thong dangling from her Þ ngers. “I was thinking of wearing this. What do you think?”

“I think it’s really sexy,” Mitchell said, trying to keep the bite from her voice. I think if you’re going out, you shouldn’t be wearing anything like that. Why would you need to?

“Yeah,” Sandy mused as she closed her Þ ngers around the slip of material. “Me too. And since I was planning on staying here and watching videos with you and Michael, I thought you could think about it while you’re eating popcorn.”

“You like to tease me, don’t you?” Mitchell rolled to the edge of the bed and levered herself upright with her crutches in one adroit move.

“Slick,” Sandy observed, holding out one arm with her palm extended. “Just stay right over there, supercop. And yes, I like to tease you. It makes your eyes get this dark, dark hungry blue color. You complaining?”

“Nope.” Ignoring Sandy’s directive, Mitchell closed the distance between them until she was inches from her lover. Then she angled the crutches against the wall and placed both hands on Sandy’s waist for balance. “But you know what happens if you tease the animals.” She lowered her head and nipped at Sandy’s neck. “You get bitten.”

Sandy slapped a hand against Mitchell’s chest. “No teeth. No lips either. I told Michael we’d hang out with her tonight. She’s ordering pizza and everything. I don’t want to be horny the whole time.”

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Mitchell snaked her arm further around Sandy’s waist and nuzzled her neck. “Give me Þ ve minutes. I promise to make you happy.”

“All I have to do is push,” Sandy murmured seductively, her mouth against Mitchell’s ear. “And you’ll fall on your ass.”

“I don’t mind if you’re on top. Makes me hot.” Mitchell chuckled when Sandy bit her earlobe. Hard. “Okay. Okay.”

“What’s happening later, anyways?”

“Jasmine is bringing the kings around. I want to gear up.”

Gently but Þ rmly, Sandy pushed Mitchell away. “You’re not going out with them tonight.”

“No. Uh-uh. They just want to see how Mitch is doing.”

“Okay.” Sandy’s tone was doubtful.

“I’m going to see Dr. Rawlings tomorrow afternoon,” Mitchell informed her quietly. “I need to get cleared so I can go back to work, San.”

“You’re still on crutches.”

“I have that appointment with Dr. Torveau in the morning, too, remember? You’re coming, right?”

“I said I was.”

“So,” Mitchell said nonchalantly, “maybe I can get a cane.”

Sandy sat on the side of the bed, her arms braced on either side of her body as she leaned back and regarded Mitchell suspiciously.

“Promise you don’t go back to work until you’re a hundred percent.”

Mitchell Þ dgeted.

“Dell.”

“I was sort of planning on going to the club this weekend. I should be okay by then.”

“Are you going to ride your bike?”

Mitchell raised a shoulder. “Probably.”

“Then Dr. Torveau has to say it’s okay.”

“Oh Christ, come on, Sandy—”

“Promise.”

Carefully, Mitchell shufß ed to the bedside and eased down next to Sandy, keeping her left leg out straight. She put her arm around the smaller woman. “I promise.”

Sandy settled against Mitchell, both arms around her waist and her head on Mitchell’s shoulder. “Then I’ll help Mitch get ready tonight.”

“Thanks.”

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Justice Served

“Under one condition.”

Mitchell sighed. “Okay.”

Sandy raised her head and peered at Mitchell curiously. “Okay?

Just like that?”

“I’m going to say yes eventually.”

Laughing, Sandy nipped at Mitchell’s chin, then kissed the tiny red spot. “You’re pretty smart for a cop.”

“Yeah.” Mitchell kissed her. “So what did I just agree to?”

Sandy smoothed her hand down the front of Mitchell’s T-shirt, danced over her ß y, and cupped her between the legs. “Mitch wears his working gear.”

Oh yeah. Too busy kissing Sandy again, Mitchell didn’t answer.

v

“How’s it going?” Sloan brushed her hands over Michael’s shoulders as she leaned down to kiss her neck.

“Mmm.” Michael tilted her head back against Sloan’s chest and closed her eyes as strong Þ ngers massaged the tight muscles along her spine. “A little better than yesterday. I can actually read for ten or Þ fteen minutes at a time without getting a headache.”

“That’s great, baby.” Carefully, Sloan swiveled the ofÞ ce chair around so that Michael faced her, then knelt before her. With a thumb, she traced the smudges beneath the sapphire eyes that were still dimmed with pain. “Tired?”

Michael covered Sloan’s hand with hers and rubbed her cheek against Sloan’s palm. “Yes. But that’s better too.”

“Good.”

“How was your day?” Michael combed her Þ ngers through Sloan’s hair, then rested her hand against the side of Sloan’s neck. “You look a little…harried.”

Sloan gave a crooked grin. “I’d forgotten just exactly how much I hate working in a bureaucracy. It takes three times as long to do anything. And the equipment…I don’t know how they can keep track of parking tickets with the system they have, let alone collate data on criminals.” She laughed. “It’s a challenge.”

“Did they give you some help?”

“A couple of fairly decent guys.” Sloan thought of the two detective

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threes who’d been pulled from burglary to form the core of the ESU.

Two guys who’d been selected because they’d once upon a time taken a computer course. But their inexperience bothered her less than her new ofÞ cial status as the civilian head of the unit. The ESU might be tucked away in the corner, but news would travel fast. She forced a smile, determined to concentrate on Michael and forget about what she couldn’t control for a few hours. “I’ve missed you.”

“I love you.” Michael caressed Sloan’s cheek. “You know, not talking about it won’t help.”

Sloan frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“You’re deÞ nitely getting better. You’re back to reading my mind.”

“I may have forgotten some things, darling, but I remember everything about you.” Michael leaned down and kissed Sloan lingeringly, a gentle but possessive kiss. “You don’t hide things from me. And even when you try to avoid telling me what you think I’m not ready to hear, it shows.”

“It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Is it something to do with you?” Michael asked mildly.

“Not exactly. Maybe.”

“Then it has to do with me.”

With a sigh, Sloan inched closer and pillowed her head against Michael’s breasts. Michael in turn stroked the back of her neck. Finally, Sloan mumbled, “It’s the visibility. If there’s anyone the least bit suspicious that we might be trying to track them down, my presence at Police Plaza is going to tip them off. They could start to cover their tracks. Computer tracks, that is. I’m working against the clock.”