Arrested Pleasure (18 page)

"Are you planning on getting drunk before you ask me this question?" His puzzled expression eyed her now nearly empty glass.

Shaking her head, she put her glass down. "Sorry. I got lost in thought as I tried to figure out how to say the words."

"Must be serious. Does this involve blood or other rituals?" His teasing words relaxed her. Or maybe the wine made her so?

"Um, yeah, well, you might not laugh after I tell you." Cassie gazed at him. He leaned back on the sofa, relaxed as he smiled at her. She took a deep breath and the words came rushing out. "My cousin is getting married in a few days. Saturday, in fact.

I wondered if you'd go with me."

"Where? Here in Portland?"

"Yes. The wedding is at a church, and the reception takes place at a restaurant along the Columbia River." She named one of the top restaurants that commanded a magnificent view of the river.

"Sounds good." He leaned over to kiss her shoulder.

"You'll go?" she asked, surprised he agreed so quickly.

"Sure. Besides, I'd love to meet your family." He tugged her into his arms and wrapped her securely into them. "Is that all you wanted to ask me?"

"Yes—" She turned her head to gaze at him. "You'll be given the third degree—"

"I'm used to being the one doing the interrogation." He laughed. "I'm sure I can handle the task. It'll be a nice, relaxing day. Trust me."

Cassie frowned. He was taking this far too lightly. Her father would browbeat Gabe into revealing his life history and what his future plans were with Cassie. Her mother's tactics were more subtle, but the same thing. She loved her family, but they proved to be overbearing at times.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, it'll be okay." Gabe's kisses soothed her worried brow, sending comforting tingles down her arm. Or was it the result of the fingers lightly kneading her breast? Her nipples tightened and beaded as he almost magically aroused her once again. Would she ever have enough of him?

As he pulled her shirt up and over her head to reveal her breasts, all her troubled thoughts fled and she gave into his sensual ministrations.

* * * * *

"What's up with you, Banks? You're sure edgy today. Have you been tomcatting around?"

Gabe had to grab his cup with both hands before the hot coffee he'd been drinking spilled onto the report he'd spent the past couple of minutes perusing. Chaz's question surprised him. A fifteen-year member of the force, Chaz's steely eyes never wavered, as if he was interrogating a perp and not waiting for Gabe's response. They normally didn't spend a lot of personal off time together since they worked so closely as partners. Chaz knew he dated, and normally Gabe would mention a hot date, but when that date was with a lady under investigation, he had to keep a lid on the details.

"What's got into you?" Gabe countered uneasily. Surely someone hadn't spotted him going into Cassie's place last night?

Chaz grunted. "You just seem different. Like the cat that got a keg full of cream."

Gabe relaxed and smiled. "I had a date last night, but not sure it was cow's cream I dipped into." Once again he stayed until morning with Cassie, but this time there'd been no unexpected visits from neighbors. He'd even managed to make it home for a quick shave before heading to work.

"Well, I'm glad somebody's getting some," Chaz snorted. "The missus of mine is pissed because she figured out I got a massage the other day. How the hell did she know?"

"Somehow they know. You probably had a whiff of the scented oil or something on you." Gabe shrugged. "What's wrong about getting a massage?"

"Because she thinks we should go for one of those couples massages they advertise on some show she watches." Chaz gulped down some coffee. "Jesus, not sure if I can give the wife a massage like we got the other day."

"You never know until you try." Inwardly, Gabe grinned to himself. A couple's massage sounded like a good idea and would provide a little variety to their love life.

He should ask Cassie to teach him a few tricks of the trade and then practice on each other. He made himself a mental note to talk to her about the subject. He turned his attention back to Chaz, wondering what to say to him. He couldn't let on he was dating Cassie, so he had better get the subject changed.

"Any more word on the prostitution ring down in Salem? Any clue if they're headed this way?" A string of arrests down in Salem had recently occupied them. A few of the women were from Portland and a growing fear the ring would move into the city kept them busy as they tried to derail the people involved. Not that Portland didn't have its share of prostitutes, but most were low key and easily dealt with. If a group moved in, this likely meant more work for the vice squad and the whole Portland police department.

"Nah, not much. On the surface they appear legit. They open a business and use the place as a front for their illicit activities." Chaz tapped his pen on the desk. "We get the big guns and then we disarm them."

"That'd be good news, but we better keep our ears and eyes open in case they decide to move north." Gabe shifted to the paperwork in front of him. "Well, I guess we're back to the business of contacting these guys and finding out if they have something more to say about Casa de Massage."

"You never did tell me what you found out the other day when you popped into the spa. Did she give you an impromptu massage? I would've asked yesterday, but with the meetings and all, I got side tracked." Chaz gazed at Gabe expectantly.

Gabe shifted in his chair, while his brain swirled on how to respond. He knew the question would be coming, but he'd been so busy he hadn't had a chance to come up with a proper answer. Cassie and he hadn't done anything wrong, but others within the department might consider it improper.

"Yes, I did. Turned out I was her last customer of the day, so we had a chance to talk a little bit."

Chaz leaned forward. "Why didn't you say so yesterday? What's your take on her and her employees?"

"Cassie . . . Ms. Nichols . . . is innocent." Gabe took a deep breath. He'd spent some time thinking about potential theories and this appeared to be a logical one. "I bet it's just some disgruntled customer who wanted more than what Cassie's spa provides, or one of her former employees has a beef with her and decided to set her up. From what I've seen and heard around the place, they're legitimate. They only give massages and similar services—and not extras on the side. I have a hunch once we nail down these guys, we'll find a connection and get them to confess they made it all up for revenge."

"Could be." Chaz scratched his chin. "We should be able to close the case soon."

He paused and then looked squarely at Gabe. "So what else did you talk about with
Cassie
?"

Gabe picked up his pen and rolled it between his fingers. He didn't want to talk about what Cassie and he had discussed. Or, what they'd done. "We talked about her business and why it's important to her. I can't fathom any reason for her to jeopardize her livelihood for prostitution. Her father used to be a fairly prominent doctor in Oregon."

"Yeah, he was," Chaz commented. "He retired to the coast last I heard."

"Seaside actually," Gabe said before stopping himself.
Damn
. He may have revealed a bit too much about their relationship by bringing in Cassie's personal details.

Chaz stared hard at him for a moment, but before he made any further comment, the phone rang.

Gabe quickly snatched up the receiver, grateful for the interruption. "Hello?"

"Hey, Gabe, this is Simmons from downstairs. You guys still investigating that massage place on Front Street?"

"Yes, we are." He frowned and looked over at his partner. What now? Things had been quiet and except for needing to talk with the guys who'd made the complaint, they were close to wrapping the case up.

"Some guy is downstairs reporting he was hit on by the owner herself yesterday.

He says he was tempted, but thought better of it and decided to report her. Shall I bring him up?"

"Don't bring him up. We'll be right there." Gabe slammed the phone down and turned to Chaz. "Some idiot says Cassie tried to offer her services to him yesterday. I want to face this lying sonofabitch now." He grabbed his gun and tore open the door, not waiting for his partner.

Chaz caught up with him at the elevator. Gabe glared at the elevator, cursing the slowness, and wished he'd taken the stairs. What the hell was going on? No way would Cassie do that. Not after being with him.

"What makes you sure he isn't telling the truth?" Chaz's question broke into his thoughts.

"Because—" The elevator dinged and opened. Thankfully the car was empty. He stepped in and punched the button for the main floor. He needed Chaz to understand why he believed in her innocence. "She isn't the type. We were together last night and the night before. Surely I'd figure out if she had sex with another man in between?"

There.
He had spilled his secret to Chaz, and he hoped to God his friend and partner understood.

The silence echoed as they descended slowly to the first floor, with only the hum of a cranky motor filling the space. He didn't look at Chaz, but sensed his partner's indecision over how to respond. If Chaz spilled, the higher-ups would surely take Gabe off the case and give him a lecture . . . or worse. It wasn't exactly ethical to date a suspect. Though in his mind, Cassie couldn't be a legitimate suspect.

Chaz reached over and hit the button to hold the elevator. He swung Gabe around to face him. "Before we go to talk to the guy, let me ask you one thing." He eyed Gabe for a few seconds. "Is she worth it?"

How could he respond? The truth? No matter what the consequences? "Yes, she is. Every bit so."

"Good. Then this is our secret." Chaz removed his finger and the door slid open.

"Don't bring the matter up again in my presence while the investigation is going on, and I won't say anything."

Stunned for a moment, Gabe watched his friend walk out of the elevator. Did Chaz say he'd turn the other cheek and not report him to the brass? He'd half-expected Chaz to chew him out at the very least. Perhaps there was justice in the world after all.

He hurried to catch up. "Hey, pal, thanks."

Chaz grunted. "No problem. Just keeping your back safe and out of hot water."

"Thanks," Gabe murmured as they reached Simmons, who stood with a frown on his face, glancing around.

"What's up? Where's the guy we're here to talk to?" Gabe checked around, but couldn't spot anyone except fellow officers.

"That's just it," Simmons replied, shaking his head. "One minute he sat in the chair by the desk to wait, then the next he's gone. While I chatted with you guys on the phone, he must've taken off."

"Damn!" Gabe spit out an even more vulgar word. Where the hell did he go?

"I thought he'd gone into the bathroom, but I checked and he's not there. I asked around, but no one seems to know where he went." Simmons motioned over to the desk where Marci Adams sat. She shrugged and shook her head.

"The phone rang, and when I turned back after transferring the call, he'd left."

She lifted her right shoulder. "He appeared scared, so maybe he changed his mind." The phone rang again, and she twisted around to take the call.

"Well, I'll be a rat's—" Chaz muttered.

"I'll say. Come on, let's go outside and see if he went to have a smoke." Gabe nodded at Simmons to follow them. At least he'd be able to identify the man.

Wet, gray drizzle greeted them. Heads bent, walkers strode by with umbrellas up. Another dreary, rainy day in Portland. No one had stepped out for a smoke or seemed to be in a hurry.

"Do you see him?" Gabe asked Simmons.

The officer peered up and down the street and to the coffee shop across the street. "Nope. He wore a green Old Navy jacket and a baseball cap." Simmons turned to stare at Gabe and Chaz. "Why the hell did he leave? I asked him to wait while I buzzed someone about getting a written statement, and he nodded and sat down. He did seem nervous, but hell, so do a lot of people who show up at the station. Do you suppose he chickened out?"

Gabe rubbed his chin. Obviously the guy didn't want to talk with too many people about Casa de Massage. What the hell was going on?

"I'm sorry." Simmons shook his head. "I shouldn't have left—"

"It's all right." Chaz patted him on the shoulders. "Guess the guy didn't want to tell us his story after all."

Gabe gazed out at the traffic. Who wanted to cause trouble for Cassie?

* * * * *

Cassie watched as the cars hit the puddles of water on the wet streets. She hated June in some ways. Rain always seemed to fall, and then weddings popped up to remind her she didn't belong to anyone on days like this.

At least she had Gabe now. Or maybe not.

She sighed and counted up the day's receipts. Another good day despite the rain outside. Lola was in the back tending to the laundry while Dani worked a client. Nearly six, a long day, and the others had gone home. She really should send Lola home, but she'd insisted on staying to finish the laundry. At times Cassie loved her dedication.

She guessed it was Junie's wedding coming up on Saturday that was making her melancholy. Thirty-two year old Junie had once vowed never to marry, but now she was about to tie the knot with Rodney. "An accountant she'd met at a convention," her mother casually mentioned in every conversation. The moment she showed up at the affair, Cassie's father would start asking questions about when she planned to marry.

Of course, arriving with a man would likely put more pressure on her to settle down.

Poor Gabe might wish he'd never agreed to escort her to the wedding.

But you've handled the issue in the past and can do so again.

Visions of Gabe popped up in her mind. She hadn't thought of marriage with anyone else before, so why him? She mentally kicked herself and slid the cash and checks into the bank bag.
Time to make a trip to the bank's night depository
. The thought reminded her she hadn't gotten a response from the bank about her loan.