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“This needs to happen tonight,” Mitch said. “Tell me what to do to get the evidence you need to bust hernow.Before I have to watch anyone else get hurt!”
It was Agent James who had more questions for Mitch. “You telluswhat you need to do your… thing. Because I don’t think we have a single woman on our roster who can pull this off. Just you.”
She was damn straight. Mitch was the only “perfect submissive” for the job.
Chapter 24
Shedidn’tshowupto Candace’s house in her best fetish wear. She didn’t even wear her usual clothes for a night at a more vanilla club. The Michelle that Mitch wanted to project was different: the woman who first introduced herself to Candace Lister over two months ago.
Candace thinks this is the daily me who appeals to her.Let her think that. Besides, Mitch knew how to style herself in pants and a jacket while calling to the basest parts of Candace’s desires. The camisole with no bra did most of the work.
She wore two accessories with her outfit. First was the solid black collar that Vanessa called theirs.The only thing that I truly apologize for.Yet it was part of the plan. Candace would not listen to Mitch unless certain things were on the table – like her collar.
The other piece of jewelry was a ring worn on her right hand. Not an engagement or wedding ring – that was too obvious to Candace, who would spend the whole time staring at it. Instead, Mitch wore a simple gold band with a large onyx-like stone. Mitch was encouraged to keep the ring in plain view because that was the best way for the camera inside to get footage.
Yet what the FBI wanted her to do was let her phone do most of the work. While it wasn’t good to be seen taking photos and videos around Candace’s house with a phone, that didn’t stop Mitch from figuring out how to record audio without the screen betraying what she did. When she questioned if this was legal in California, where two-party consent was king, the agents informed her that even if they didn’t already have the warrant, they didn’t give a shit.
Mitch figured as much.
She wasn’t exactly sure what would happen in Candace’s house, but she was ready.
“Yes?” asked the maid who answered. She must have recognized Mitch because she didn’t slam the door in her face.
“Is Ms. Lister in?”
Based on the maid’s unmoving expression, she must have been. “Why? She is not expecting anyone.”
“She is always expecting me.”
The maid was not convinced, but it didn’t stop her from allowing Mitch in with the instructions to wait in the grand foyer. The maid’s heels clicked on the tile as she disappeared into another room. Aside from the low thrum of a ceiling fan right there in the foyer, Mitch would have assumed very few people were in residence in Candace Lister’s grand manor with thirteen bedrooms and God knew how many bathrooms. And that wasn’t where her actual servants lived if they stayed on the property.
Mitch and the FBI knew that much, but they both needed hard evidence that Candace was not only running a brothel out of her house but that other crimes were often committed here.
The maid reappeared in the foyer. “Follow me. You’ve piqued Mistress’s interest.”
Although this woman couldn’t be much younger than Candace, she had a reverent air about her when she spoke of the employer.One of her original girls?Mitch followed the maid to another staircase behind two other doors. As they ascended, she caught a glimpse of the scenic photos hanging on the wall.Hawaii. Thailand. Milan. London. Paris.Five places that Candace often talked about traveling to. Mitch knew that Hawaii and Thailand were part of her ring. What about the European cities?
Candace was in residence, all right. Currently, she sat in a study overlooking the woods surrounding her manor. Mitch assumed that higher up, perhaps on the balcony attached to the attic, one could see the ocean. But here, Candace was content to sit at a writing desk not near the window. Instead, her view was of a giant oil portrait depicting herself when she was a young girl.
Mitch knew because the demeanor of demonic disbelief on Candace’s face was the same as the girl’s in the portrait.
“What,” Candace began with a magnanimous pause as she put down her pen, “are you doing here, Michelle?”
Mitch tucked an errant short hair behind her ear. She didn’t wear a wig, but old habits died hard in front of a diabolical Mistress. Besides, she needed to give the camera in her ring a good view of Candace’s office. “I had to see you, Ms. Lister.” Mitch turned up the feminine charm as she sashayed across the room, her jacket hanging open so Candace’s gaze strayed straight to the two pert nipples beneath Mitch’s silk camisole. “You’re all I was able to think about over the holidays. I sensed your distance like I sensed a disturbance in my own life.”
The only betrayal of Candace’s intrigue was the slight movement of her brow. “Is that so? I don’t suppose you’ve been thinking about me nonstop since we first met.”
“Yes.” Mitch helped herself to the loveseat near Candace’s desk. One sleeve of her jacket fell off her shoulder. She didn’t fix it. Not as long as Candace kept peering at her through the corner of her eye. “Since before we met. Surely, you knew that when I first showed up.”
“You may have been oozing it.”
“So?” Mitch propped her elbow up on the back of the loveseat, her heavy-lidded gaze broiling the air between them. “Why haven’t you taken me, yet? What holds you back from fulfilling the desires we both clearly have for one another?”
“You can’t be serious. If you came here to insult me, Michelle, you can leave.”
That was essentially what Mitch expected to hear. “I’m not insulting you. Not intentionally. Besides, you probably want to tell me that it’s Vanessa that keeps us apart. But you must know that Vanessa is a generous woman. She’d give me to you for free.”
“For a night, perhaps. I’m not satisfied with one night.”
