All Things Pretty (3 page)

I stare at him blandly, my smile intact, and
I wait for him to speak. If I go bumbling through excuses and
elaborations, it’ll just make me look guilty.

“My girlfriend has no business getting dirty
on the side of the road, changing a flat tire. You should’ve
called.”

“By the time I realized the spare was flat,
it would’ve been a nuisance for you to have to come all the way out
to get me when I could just as easily call a tow truck and come to
you. So that’s what I did.”

Making it sound like I had him and his
happiness as my top priority in the situation helps my case.
Anything that plays to Lance Tonin’s ego is a useful tool for
me.

His aggravation lessens noticeably. “I
really need to assign someone to you full-time.”

My stomach lurches. The last thing in the
world I want is for someone to be watching me 24/7, reporting back
to Lance about my every move, word and wardrobe change.

“That’s not necessary. This was an unusual
circumstance. I don’t need for you to take someone away from
important business just to be around on the off chance that I might
need something.”

“You’re worth it to me, baby.
You
are
important business.” I smile as he kisses my knuckles. “Is that a
new dress?”

“It is. I know how much you love me in red.”
Lance is the type who
wants
me to spend his money, as long
as it’s on making me look the way he thinks I should look and
dress. He gets furious if he catches me wearing what he calls
“redneck” clothes–anything that reminds him of his trashy mother.
He thinks that all women who wear worn jeans or denim shorts or
more casual clothes are trashy, so he expects me to dress like the
women on television that he used to watch when he was a kid trying
to escape the noises of his mother turning tricks in the next room.
He thinks that pretending that we’re classy will make it so.

He couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Just then, a waitress arrives to take our
order, bringing the unnerving conversation to an end.

CHAPTER FOUR- SIG

I stop dead, nearly dropping my teeth when I
finally spot Tommi and see who she’s sitting with.

Christ on a cracker, it’s Lance Tonin. Drug
dealer. Criminal. All around scumbag.

You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.

Why the hell would a woman like Tommi waste
her time on a guy like Tonin? Total douchebag and they say he’s
mean as a damn snake. He’s the lowest of the low. Uses a lot of
young kids–homeless girls, hookers, underprivileged boys–to do his
dirty work. We caught two of victims a while back. Low end. One
busted selling an eight ball of coke, the other with a pound of
bath salts. Lance deals mostly in coke, but he dabbles in a few
other odds and ends, too.

Both kids were fiercely loyal. Wouldn’t say
a word. Both had recently graduated high school. They were in the
same class as the son of one of Tonin’s higher ups. That’s how we
started making the connection. Both got juvie. Both ended up dead.
One hung himself, the other overdosed on some pills. We don’t know
how he picks these kids or how he gets them to cooperate, but he
does. Still, the problem isn’t
knowing
Tonin is involved or
how; it’s
proving
it.

But they were small time anyway. To get
Lance Tonin, we’d have to find out where he keeps the big stash. We
need the quantity to make sure the charges stick and get him locked
up for a long, long time.

I toy with Tommi’s cell phone, which she
left in my truck. She was in such a hurry to get away, for me to
drop her off and go, that she must’ve dropped it. Now I know why
she was on edge and in such a hurry. And why she couldn’t be seen
with me.

When I saw the phone, I turned around with
the intention of finding her and returning it, but now that I see
who she’s with, I’m not so sure that’s the best way forward. Maybe
there’s an opportunity here.

My department has been after Lance Tonin for
four years, but nobody can get close enough to him to get a bead on
how his operation is set up. I wonder if anyone has ever considered
going through a back door. A beautiful blonde back door.

I feel a surge of guilt just thinking about
using Tommi that way. What a shitheel thing to do. But then again,
she’s dating a known felon. She
has to know
that puts her in
the crosshairs, in the danger zone. In that case, all bets are
off.

Like my brothers, I want to work my way up
to detective, but for me, I want to go into deep cover. That takes
time, though. Everybody’s gotta pay their dues. But the thing is,
if I go to them with a way in on a guy like Tonin, they’d almost
have to
let me go under. I mean, at least it would be worth
a shot to try.

Pocketing the phone, I turn around and walk
back the way I came. I need to sleep on it. Maybe even talk to my
captain tomorrow. But right now, this seems like a pretty damn big
gift.

CHAPTER FIVE- TOMMI

It isn’t until Lance puts me in a limo at
just after 2 AM that I realize my phone is missing. It would be a
big deal anyway because Lance wouldn’t be able to reach me, which
always sends him into orbit. But this, this is a much bigger deal
because I know for a fact that I had it when I left my car and I’m
99% positive that I had it when I left the dress shop. That means
there’s only one place it could be.

With Sig.

My heart races just thinking about Lance
finding out. I don’t ever worry about him getting physically
violent with me. I’ve been with hitters before and I wouldn’t put
it past him to get rough with a woman,
but
he loves the way
I look too much to risk ruining it. Besides he knows how to keep me
in line, knows what I value more than anything.
That
is why
he can’t find out about today.

Nervously, I tap my fingers on the seat
beside me, even more anxious now than I was earlier tonight. When
Bruce, the driver, drops me off at my condo, I rush inside and make
a beeline for my brother’s room. I open the door as quietly as I
can and tiptoe to the side of his bed to grab his phone, backing
out as silently as I entered. I hurry into my room, closing the
door and sending up a quick prayer that Sig has realized I left my
phone and has it somewhere close by.

I dial my own number, listening to it ring,
my anxiety rising with each one that passes unanswered. When my
voicemail cuts on, I hang up and hit redial. “Please God, let him
have it inside with him.” I repeat this process three more times,
making my call as aggravating as humanly possible so that he’ll
pick up just to get some peace and quiet. But still no answer.

“Don’t have turned off the ringer,” I
whisper. “Don’t have turned off the ringer.”

On my sixth try, I’m about to hang up when I
finally hear a deep, sleepy voice mutter, “Hello?”

Relief rockets through me, nearly buckling
my knees. “Sig? Is that you?”

“Just Tommi,” he says, a smile in his voice
that makes my stomach dip and swirl.

“I’m sorry to wake you. I just panicked when
I realized I didn’t have my phone.”

“I was wondering how I could get it back to
you.”

“I could come by and pick it up tomorrow,” I
offer.

“After you get your car fixed?”

Oh, god, my car!

I suppress a growl of frustration. I’ll need
it long before then. The towing place probably doesn’t open until 8
or 9 and then I’ll have to figure out how to get two tires over
there. And put on as well. All this before 9 AM, which is when
Lance asked me to be at his place tomorrow. If I’m not there, he’ll
call. And if doesn’t get me, he’ll come to find me. And when he
finds me and I tell him I don’t have my phone, he’ll offer to take
me to my car to get my phone, which won’t be there. Because a
gorgeous stranger has it.

Gah!

Out of habit, I bite back a curse, always
the lady for Lance. I could let fly when he’s not around, but then
I’d probably end up slipping up in front of him and he’d get mad.
And when Lance gets mad he makes threats. And there’s only one real
tool he can use to threaten me.

Round and round we go.

“I’ll need it before then,” I tell Sig, “but
I can take a cab and meet you wherever you want, as early as
possible. Please.”

There’s a long pause, during which I wonder
if he’s fallen back asleep. “I have something to do first thing,
but I can meet you after. Say eight o’clock at the Daily
Grind?”

I’m familiar with the coffee shop. It’s not
a place that Lance would ever frequent, so I feel comfortable
agreeing to meet him there. “Sounds perfect. Thank you so much. I
really hate to put you out.”

“Trust me, it’s no bother. I get to see you
again.”

I can’t help smiling. “Goodnight, Sig.”

“Goodnight Just Tommi.”

“Wait!” I rush to catch him before he hangs
up. “Sig?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t answer my phone again, okay?”

“You got it,” he says and the line goes
dead.

After I sneak my brother’s phone back into
his room, I begin the nightly ritual of changing into pajamas
(clothing of
my
choosing), washing my face and brushing my
teeth. It’s one of my favorite times of day. It always means that
I’ve made it through another twenty-four hours in hell and that I’m
one step closer to my goal.

When I climb into bed, my mind is as torn as
the dreams that come, dreams that are sprinkled with chocolate eyes
and a gorgeous grin, as well as the flaming ties that a devil has
around my wrists.

CHAPTER SIX- SIG

I wear my uniform to work, but I bring along
a bag of street clothes just in case the day goes the way I think
it will go. Before my shift starts, I locker my shit and go
straight to the captain’s office. When I knock, he issues a
baritone, “Enter,” without even raising his head.

I might never get used to having a boss that
looks like a heftier Denzel Washington and sounds like Barry White.
He’s almost as tall as me and, if I were a lesser man, he might
actually intimidate me.

I walk in and stand stiffly in front of his
desk until he turns his shrewd gaze up to me. “What is it,
Locke?”

“Sir, I stopped to help a woman with a flat
tire along the highway yesterday. We kind of hit it off. Flirted a
little. I gave her a ride since her spare was flat, too.”

His expression turns dubious. “Have I ever
given you the impression that I give a damn about your love
life?”

I laugh. “No, sir.”

“Does that mean there’s a point to
this?”

“Yes, sir.”

He turns his hand in a circular motion like
he’s manually speeding me up. “Then get to it. I’ve got work to
do.”

“The woman, she’s Lance Tonin’s girlfriend.”
That gets his full attention.

He sets down his pen, watching me for a few
seconds before he narrows his eyes on me. “And?”

“Look, you know my goal is to be an under
cover. I’m willing to put in the time, just like everybody else,
but this is an opportunity I don’t think you would want to miss out
on.”

“Is that right?” he asks, leaning back in
his chair and crossing his arms over his barrel chest.

“Sir, I know how long we’ve been after
Tonin. And I know how hard it’s been for anyone to figure out how
he works, even with someone on the inside. But maybe we’ve been
working the wrong angle. Maybe trying to get close to him isn’t the
way in.”

“And you think you could get Lance Tonin’s
girlfriend
to turn on him.”

“Yes, I do,” I reply confidently. “And even
if she’s loyal to him, if I could just get inside with her for a
little while, I think I could get something useful. She might not
willingly
turn on him, but…”

“And just how do you think you’d get
inside?”

“Well, I know we have a guy on his
crew…”

“And you know this how?”

I shrug. “I keep my ears open.” I smile.
That’ll bug the shit out of him, but I’d never rat out one of my
brothers for telling me.

He lets that go. For now. “So you’re asking
me to compromise my man inside to get you in with his bimbo?”

“No, it’s not like he needs to recommend me
for anything important or anything that might require much trust.
If he could get me in doing some menial shit, I think it could
work. As long as I have a way to spend a little time with her. I
know I can do this, sir. I can feel it.”

“You feel it, huh? No chance that could be
ego you’re feeling, is there?”

“Maybe a little, but we’re definitely
friendly. If it doesn’t work, I’ll move on. No harm, no foul.”

“People don’t just ‘move on’ from Lance
Tonin. He runs his organization in more of a blood-in, blood-out
way. We’d have to extract you very carefully.”

“Okay, fine.
If
I fail. But only
if.”

He watches me for at least a full minute,
his sharp brown eyes digging all the way in, like he’s looking for
evidence of the Locke worth behind the Locke name on the left side
of my chest. I stand up taller. I’m Locke all right. Through and
through. And I have no problem proving it.

“I’ll think about it.”

I glance down at my watch. “Well, not to be
pushy, sir, but I’ll need to know something pretty soon. I’m
meeting her in half an hour to return her phone. If I go dressed
like this…”

He takes less time to consider something
this simple. “Go in street clothes. Just in case. Come straight
back and let me know if you still think you’ve got a way in.”

“Yes, sir,” I say to the top of his head.
He’s already dismissed me.

CHAPTER SEVEN- TOMMI

I try not to fidget as I wait, but it’s
hard. I feel like I’m playing with dynamite just by being here. Of
course, there’s the concern about my phone and concern about Lance
finding out what really happened yesterday, but there’s also just
Sig himself. Something about him disconcerts me. I’m not even sure
what it is.