AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She does,” he says. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“I just—I just found something that may imply she’s there.” I pull out my phone and show him the picture of Erin at one of the meet-and-greets for Quantum Success.
“So what happened yesterday?” he asks sternly. “What did you do?” His brows swoop in low as he stares me down.
“The night I left your place I went online and I bought a course.”
“You bought a course?” He looks more than a little amused, and to be honest, I’m shocked at how well I’m capable of holding his attention, present company considered. “How much, what name did you give them, and how did you pay without offering up your credit card information?”
“My mother gave me a card years ago in the event of an emergency,” I tell him. “And I made up a name. No one seemed to care what card I was using. But I like how you think. Have you thought of a career with the FBI?”
He glowers at me twice as hard.
“I didn’t pull the trigger for the whole enchilada,” I tell him. “I opted for the teaser course. I went into one of their chat rooms—code name, Chastity. A few of the moderators did their best to push me over the finish line. One of them offered to meet up with me for coffee.”
“And that’s where you went?” His eyes bug out. “You do realize we’re actively investigating these people. That’s the very reason we’re seated in this glory hole.”
“Only you would call it a glory hole.” I roll my eyes at that one. “And yes, I do realize that. But I didn’t go anywhere. I ended up not meeting with her. Instead, I played hard to get. As should these women.” My finger twitches toward the stage. “Anyway, the woman I spoke to was a brilliant salesperson. I did end up buying the full course.” I bite down on a smile.
“And?” His brows hike a notch. This time he looks genuinely afraid of what I might say next. “Why do I get the feeling there are a few questionable perks involved?”
“She invited me to a private meeting. I paid a premium for one-on-one counseling. Sloan is a nice woman. I have a feeling she’s going to be my in.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The lights spasm and the music dies down once again as the DJ announces the next group of women, and just our luck Scarlett Blaze is one of them.
A woman with hair the color of fruit punch sashays all the way down to our end of the stage and does the splits right in front of us.
Neither of us talks any more about my playdate with my mother’s credit card.
We’re back on the clock.
18
Special Agent Fallon Baxter
Scarlett Blaze, aka Heather Smiley, shakes what her mama gave her for the next solid hour. I help myself to the nachos while Jack pretends not to drool.
He’s such a man.
After an impressive routine of sideways splits, upside splits, and kiss-the-floor-with-your-keister splits, Scarlett finishes up her set and blows the crowd a kiss before prancing off the stage.
“You can stop swooning,” I say to Jack as his eyes stay trained in the direction she disappeared in. With his chin on his chest, he looks as if he’s in the middle of a rough hangover. A boob hangover. “Cheer up, sweetheart.” I bump my elbow to his in an effort to rouse him. “A whole new slew of women are trotting out next.”
“I’m not here to see them.” He holds up a hand, and soon a set of pasties is in his face. Jack waves a wad of cash at them. “Private room, please. I’d like to request Scarlett’s company.”
“Right this way,” the woman says, taking the money from him, and the two of us stand.
She shoots me a look and I shrug. “I like to watch.”
She threads us through the rowdy crowd, laden with more drooling men than you can shake a stripper pole at, down a dark corridor and into a dimly lit lounge where a series of alcoves sit laden with purple sofas. Most of the cubical-like rooms are occupied by couples, men lying back while getting the naughty lap dance of their dreams. There’s a guard at the door, tall, fit, lots of muscles, and he happens to be fiddling with his phone. He looks bored and disinterested and doesn’t seem to be paying a lick of attention to anything happening in those lusty booths.
We’re set up in the alcove in the back and I take a seat on the far end of the couch. I wait until the walking pasties tell us to sit tight and disappears before leaning toward Jack.
“How far are you going to let this go?”
“As far as I need to.” He tugs at his lapels. “There’s nothing I won’t do for justice.”
