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"Well, hello," he drawled, the gentle Irish lilt in his voice sounding oh-so sexy. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. "
"I've been visiting a brothel," I said, imagining his expression and smiling at the image.
"And I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for it," he said, "even though I can't really think of one. "
"It had a phone. "
"Most of them do. "
I laughed. "This phone is the contact number for a bunch of hit men for hire. "
"Interesting. " His voice was dry. "So why are you calling me?"
"Because I need food and sex, and not necessarily in that order. I figured you might be interested in sating one or both of those desires. "
"You figured right. Where would you like said sating to occur?"
"Somewhere not too fancy. I need to be back at the brothel by one-thirty, so I haven't got time to go home and change. And several shape-shifts has shredded the last spare T-shirt I have in the car. "
"Which is a look I quite enjoy," he said. "I take it you're close to the city?"
"St. Kilda. "
"Excellent. There's a small spa in Acland Street that does a great lunch and spa treatment regimen. I'll send you the address and meet you there in twenty minutes. "
"But I don't want - "
"Riley, trust me. "
"Okay," I grumbled. "But you know how bitchy I can get when my hungers aren't satisfied. "
He laughed. The warm sound flowed through me like a caress. "Trust me, love, I aim to satisfy us both. "
"Well, good. " I glanced at my watch. "I'll see you in twenty. "
"You will. "
He hung up, and I rang Jack. "Boss," I said, the minute he answered, "that land line is located on the top floor of a brothel, and the whole floor is bristling with electronic security. "
"Meaning they're hiding something," he said. "Can you break in, or do you want some professional help?"
"Well, I'm thinking that electronic security usually needs electricity to work, so would it be possible to arrange a little blackout in the area around two?"
"It'll take out the entire block, but yeah, it can be done. " He paused. "We ran a trace on the number. The phone is listed as belonging to the brothel. The owner of said brothel is one T. J. Hart. We're trying to track down an address for him. "
That raised my eyebrows. "It isn't on the business registration?"
"It's a post office box. "
I frowned. "I didn't think it was legal to do that. I thought it had to be a street address. "
"Normally, it does. "
Meaning T. J. either knew someone or had paid someone. Which meant he had money or connections that weren't obvious from the condition of his business.
"He has no license or police record," Jack continued. "The tax office has his address listed as Fitzroy, but the house was razed for apartments earlier this year. "
Meaning he could be missing or simply didn't want to be found. I made a mental note to check with Cass this afternoon, then said, "Is it possible to put a tap on the phone?"
