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“Zac?” I knocked on the bathroom door. “I’m throwing it in, all right?” I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
“It’s locked,” came his reply.
“Can you unlock it?”
“I’ll get cold.”
“You should have remembered your towel then, huh?”
The shower water cut off, and I heard the tell-tale slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor as he ran from the cubicle to the door and got the lock.
“Uh, Dad?”
My stomach hit the floor like a brick. “What?”
“I can’t unlock the door.”
I banged my head against the door and sighed. “Hold that thought.”
***
Three hours later after successfully rescuing my forgetful son from the bathroom, I’d replaced the lock, delivered him to my parents, and managed to get myself ready for work. How I’d done it and still got here early was anyone’s guess.
It was a shame there was no time for coffee.
I felt as though that or a shot of whiskey was all that would get me through the conversation I was about to have with the chief.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Sam said, adjusting his shirt sleeve. “Wait—I don’t even know what you’re doing.”
“Listen to me.” I turned and grabbed his arm. “Just smile and nod with whatever I say, all right? I’ve got an idea that can get out of the shit we’re in with this assignment. Chief is at the end of his fucking patience with us.”
“That’s because Smithson decided to fuck the prostitute on the backseat instead of arrest her.”
He had a point. “Still, he’s gonna put an end to our project or move us off it if we don’t get our shit together.”
“Have I ever mentioned to you that you let your mouth go wild when Zac isn’t around?”
“That’s ‘cause I deal with fuckers like you. Let’s go.” I let go of him and turned down the hall to Chief Sandford’s office to the sound of Sam’s laughter.
I wasn’t going to argue with him, because he had a point on that, too. I made every effort to not swear around Zac, but when he wasn’t here, all bets were off.
“Sir?” I knocked on the ajar door of the chief’s office.
“Detective. Come in.” He waited until we’d both entered before looking up at us over the top rims of his thin glasses. “Detectives,” he corrected himself. “How can I help you?”
I nodded for Sam to shut the door and when he did, took a seat in front of the desk. “As you know, we’ve been struggling with our assignment.”
“I have noticed that between ten men, you only seem to be able to pick up one worker a night, if that. Smithson not included,” Chief said dryly.
The reminder of our failings was always nice. “I have an idea that might help us.”
He pulled off his glasses. Dark, calculating eyes flitted between both me and Sam, filling the silence with thick tension. “All right. Go. You have two minutes.”
Fucking hell.
“Last night, when I was in the Haas Hotel, I met a woman who, I believe, was a prostitute.”
His eyes narrowed, but I pushed on.
“We spoke for a while and she was able to positively identify another woman as a sex worker.”
“The lady Samuel booked last night?”
“Yes, sir,” Sam answered.
“Go on.” Chief nodded to me.
Sam’s eyes were hot on me as I continued. “Our struggle is successfully finding and identifying our targets. If we have someone to help us…”
“You want to bring this woman in as an informant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Paid or unpaid?”
“Your decision.”
The chief rubbed his hand across his forehead. “I have some questions, Potter. Number one being why in God’s name you let this woman go suspecting she was a prostitute.”
Sam shifted behind me.
“I couldn’t prove it,” I answered, looking him dead in the eye as I lied. “She excused herself to the bathroom and didn’t come back, which confirmed my suspicions.”
“Why don’t you arrest her now instead of using her as an informant?”
Goddamn, he was making this hard. “Because she was very amicable, and I don’t believe she was there by choice. I think, given the opportunity, she’d help us.”
“So, you’re going to sit around at the damn hotel all night and hope she shows up.”
“No, sir. I have her real name. The bartender carded her before I could purchase her a drink.” The second lie rolled right off my tongue, just as smoothly as the first.
“Name,” he barked, harsh and impatiently.
“Perrie Fox.”
He froze. Sam did, too. I hadn’t told him her name, and this was why. I knew the way they’d react on hearing her name.
Shit, I’d reacted that way, too.
“Perrie Fox.” Chief said it slowly, as if he were rolling her name around on her tongue. “Fox. Hmm. Are you sure this isn’t why she wasn’t arrested?”
I shook my head. “No, sir. Like I said—she went to the restroom and never came back.”
He ran his fingers over his salt-and-pepper colored beard and studied me. “I’m sure she did,” he said with all the dryness of a man who knew I was lying. “What makes you think she’ll help you and your team?”
