Authors: Radclyffe
“Baby,” Sandy murmured. “Everything is all right, baby.”
“I was so freaking scared,” Dell whispered without looking up.
“I wasn’t. Because I knew you were there. I knew you would find us. And you did.”
Dell’s head snapped up. “I fucked up. I left you here to go buy Irina a fucking television.”
Sandy narrowed her eyes. “You bought her a television?”
“I figured she needed something to do. And the more time she spends inside, the safer she is.”
“Yeah well, as long as it isn’t flowers. No flowers, right?”
Dell shook her head, grinning weakly.
Sandy stroked her face, brushing away the tears. “You know I still would’ve gone out whether you were here or not.”
“I wouldn’t have let you go with those guys.”
Sandy sighed. “And what? We let Darla go by herself? She almost got raped, Dell.”
“I’m going to fucking kill them.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going to do exactly what Frye tells you to do, because that’s who you are. That’s your job.” When Dell tried to look away, Sandy grabbed her T-shirt and tugged her closer, ignoring the pain that reared up in her chest. “Look at me. Look at me, rookie.”
Dell finally met her eyes.
“Promise me. Right now. Promise me you won’t do anything crazy. You’re a cop, Dell. That’s important. It’s important to you. It’s important to me.”
“Oh fuck,” Dell whispered. She started to shake and lowered her head again.
“Baby?” Sandy asked gently.
Dell took several long, deep breaths, then raised her head and smiled crookedly. “I’m okay. Long night, you know?”
Sandy laughed. “Yeah. I noticed.”
“So I was thinking, after I finish with the meeting downstairs, I could maybe sleep in here. Grab some blankets and a pillow. You know, sleep next to the bed so I wouldn’t bother—”
“When you’re done, you get in bed with me.” Sandy stroked Dell’s arm. “I’ll sleep better if you’re here. You make me feel safe, baby.”
Dell swallowed hard. “Okay then. I won’t be long.” She leaned over and kissed Sandy’s forehead. “I love you lots.”
“Same here. Go do your cop thing now, baby.” Sandy waited until Dell left to try to get comfortable again. She moaned as a hot flash of pain raced around her rib cage.
From the doorway, Michael said, “Can I get you anything?”
“There’s some pills on the table next to me,” Sandy said, trying to breathe evenly so the pain wouldn’t get worse. “I think I might need another one.”
“I’ll get some water and be right back.” A minute later Michael returned. She opened the medication, removed a pill, and handed it to Sandy. Then she sat on the side of the bed and gently slid her arm behind Sandy’s shoulders, helping her to sit up so she could sip the water. “I heard about what happened. How are you feeling?”
Sandy leaned against her. “Pretty crappy. Don’t tell Dell, though.”
“I won’t.” Michael eased her back onto the pillows. “How are you doing besides the pain?”
“It was scary there for a while.” Sandy held Michael’s hand. “But I think I’m okay.”
“Good. If you need to talk, I’m here. Or Catherine.”
“They didn’t hurt me. I mean, not the way you’re worried about.”
Michael sighed. “I don’t know what to be worried about first anymore. Or who.” She stroked Sandy’s hair with her free hand. “So just don’t frighten me like this again, okay?”
“Top of my list.”
“You should get some sleep.”
“Are you okay? You look pretty tired.”
Michael smiled a little. “I am tired. Good tired, though.”
Sandy grinned. “Oh. Sloan gave you a nice wake-up call.”
“No,” Michael said playfully. “I gave
her
a nice wake-up call.” She rose carefully and tucked in the blankets around Sandy. “I understand you’re supposed to stay in bed all day today. I’ll check on you later.”
“Hey,” Sandy called as Michael started toward the door. When Michael looked back, Sandy said shyly, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. And remember, I’m here if you need anything.”
Sandy closed her eyes. Dell would be back soon. And she was among friends. She didn’t need anything else.
Rebecca nodded to Mitchell, who came into the conference room after everyone else, dressed in the same clothes she’d worn the night before. She looked tired, but steady. “Grab a cup of coffee, Detective.”
“I’m okay, Lieutenant.” Dell sank into the chair on the far side of Watts. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Understood. How’s Sandy?”
“Crabby.”
“Doing all right, then,” Rebecca said with a flicker of a smile before glancing down at her notes. “Okay. Last night confirms what we’ve suspected all along. The Russians are part of a high-level prostitution game, but they’re not likely to be the ones pulling the strings. They’re doing a lot of the ground-level work—procuring and delivering the girls. Providing security.” She looked at Jason, who was rapidly keying data into the laptop in front of him. “You have those images for us yet?”
“Coming…now.” Jason hit a few more keys and images appeared on a screen built into the wall at the end of the conference room.
Rebecca squinted. The images were murky, the resolution poor. “Can you clean those up at all?”
Jason raised a brow.
“Sorry,” Rebecca said dryly. “Foolish question.”
“Give me a minute,” Jason said, working away. “When I get these into my other program I’ll be able to do better for you.”
“There—that’s good for now. Thanks.” Rebecca waited while the entire series of images Sandy had taken flicked across the screen. “We got three names from the license photos Sandy shot. Two businessmen with strong ties to local government and a city comptroller. I recognize at least one of the others. A state senator.”
Sloan said, “There’s no way men like that would do business directly with the Russian mob.”
“No,” Rebecca said. “They wouldn’t. They would only trust someone who moved in their circles. Someone they considered one of them.”
“The Zamoras?” Watts said skeptically. “Why would these guys trust them?”
“Not
them,
necessarily,” Rebecca said. “But Kratos. Remember, he’s kept himself apart from the family business, at least on the surface. The good brother. He’s just a businessman.”
“Yeah.” Watts pulled a face. “And I’m the next chief of detectives too.”
“Sandy got us the kind of intel it might’ve taken us months to get. These guys.” Rebecca waved a hand at the screen where Jason had arranged the images in a series of headshots. “One of them will talk.”
“Maybe,” Sloan said. “If Clark doesn’t get to them first.”
“Clark doesn’t know we have this information. And for now, that’s exactly the way it’s going to stay.”
“That’s not gonna win you points for interagency cooperation, Loo,” Watts said. “Could put you in a tight spot, especially since the brass told us to play nice with the feds.”
Rebecca rolled her shoulders, fighting a headache that had beat at the back of her skull for the last two hours. “If anyone in the PPD thinks this unit is going to lay down so Clark can fuck us over again, then they haven’t been paying attention.”
Watts grinned. Sloan stared at the table, her expression remote.
“So what does that mean for Mitch’s part of the operation? Him and Irina?” Watts asked. “Maybe Sandy got us everything we need.”
“Sandy only got us a piece,” Dell said before Rebecca could answer. “Those pictures don’t tell us who’s putting the clients and the Russians together. We need the connection, hopefully someone close to Zamora, and Irina knows the men who know
them
. Those are the guys we want. Irina can get me close to the key players. And then we can put on some real pressure.”
“I agree,” Rebecca said. “We’ve got verification of one piece of the puzzle. But we need someone higher up than street-level soldiers like the men who picked Sandy up last night.” She nodded at Dell. “We still need Irina, and I imagine the Russians want her brought back in. They know she’s alive. And they know how much she knows. I think it will be safer and smarter if she initiates contact now. A show of good faith on her part.”
“What if she can’t bring me in with her?” Dell glanced round the table uncomfortably. “You said it yourself. She knows a lot. They could decide she knows too much, especially since the house she lived in was raided.”
“If it looks like she’s in trouble, we’ll pull her out and try to get Sandy back in again. That’s probably a good idea anyhow. We know these guys are interested in—”
Dell shot to her feet. “No!”
Watts coughed into his hand and muttered, “Sit down, kid.”
Rebecca stared down the length of the table at Mitchell, watching the young detective struggle with her emotions. After a few seconds she said to the room in general, “Would everyone take a break, please. Except for Detective Mitchell.” After the door closed behind their colleagues, she said, “You have an objection you would like to make, Detective?”
Dell automatically stepped to attention. “Yes ma’am, I do. If I might speak freely.”
“Go ahead.”
“Sandy’s hurt. They could have killed her last night. She’s not trained to do this.”
“Do what, Detective?”
“Work undercover,” Dell shot back. “She doesn’t know how to fight. She doesn’t carry a gun. She doesn’t have any goddamn backup.”
“And you conclude from this?” Rebecca asked. “As a cop, Mitchell, not as her lover.”
Dell sucked in a breath. “The risk of sending her back in again is unacceptable.”
Rebecca scanned the faces of the men in the images splayed across the wall, a silent gallery of users and abusers. She wondered fleetingly what separated her from them, and if the shield of justice was after all only a façade to hide the crimes of those sworn to uphold the law.
“I won’t argue, although I don’t completely agree.” Rebecca spoke quietly, trying to separate the cop in her from the woman and the friend. After a few seconds, she stopped trying because she could only be who she was. “But I will point out this. Sandy
is
trained. More than you for the work you’re doing with Irina.” When Dell started to protest, Rebecca cut her off. “She has street training. Real-life experience. She handled herself perfectly last night. Probably better than you would have. Or me.”
Rebecca sighed. “She got into trouble not because of the situation, but because she did what she would’ve done if she’d been in a bar on Delaware or a street corner on Arch. She defended one of her own. It had nothing to do with her being at that party because of this investigation.”
“You’re saying it’s her fault,” Dell said flatly.
Rebecca shrugged. “Probably as much as it’s your fault you got stabbed or my fault that I got shot. We do what we do because we can’t do anything else. Neither can she.” Rebecca put her hands flat on the table and leaned forward. “I guarantee you this, Mitchell. If we tell her to stop, she’s going to laugh in our faces and go out there on her own. And I for one would rather know where she is and what she’s doing. I’d rather be sitting in a car on the street in front of that hotel than sixty miles away.”
Dell looked down at the floor. When she spoke, her voice was low and rough. “You know her better than I do. You’d probably be better for her than me.”
“Well, that’s fucked-up logic on many levels.” Rebecca laughed. “Forgetting Catherine, which is impossible, I don’t love Sandy the way you do. Not with my last breath. So unless there’s something else you want to say to me, I think we should let that topic rest.”
“Noted.”
“Look, Mitchell. It’s been a hard night. We’re all tired. And before you and I decide what’s best for Sandy, we’d better check with her.”
Dell finally smiled. “Oh yeah. Not a bad idea.”
“That’s why I’m the lieutenant.” Rebecca walked around the table and dropped her hand on Dell’s shoulder. “If she goes out again, I promise you she’ll have backup. They didn’t check the girls last night. They don’t think of these girls as a threat. That’s to our advantage. We’ll wire her somehow.”
“Okay.” Dell colored. “I’m sorry for the outburst, Lieutenant.”
“Forget it. I’d have done the same.” Rebecca thumped Dell lightly on the arm. “In fact, I have. Now let’s get the team back in here and work out a plan to put these guys out of business.”
*
“Okay. Jason.” Rebecca pointed. “Your job is to ID the rest of the clients. DMV, Armed Forces databases, newspaper archives. You know the drill. They’re too high profile to be hidden. Run the SUV plates…maybe we’ll get lucky there and turn a name that isn’t fake.”
“On it.” Jason closed his laptop, tucked it under his arm, and headed out into the main office.
“Mitchell. Get some sleep. Then I want you to show Irina copies of these photos. See if she can ID the Russians or any of the clients.”
“I’ll see her tonight,” Dell said.
“Right. Good.” Rebecca turned to Watts. “I’m going to pay Clark a visit later. You stay close in case Mitchell needs backup. Mitchell…Watts is your first call if you so much as go out for pizza with Irina.”