AtHerCommand (5 page)

“If the johns want more than a massage, it’s time to employ
some tricks,” Lotty said. “And you can always work the fact that you’re Asian
too.”

“Why do I feel a politically incorrect statement coming on?”
Suzi rolled her eyes.

“Listen, if you don’t want to get down and dirty with these
guys, you’ll need to work all the angles you’ve got,” Lotty insisted. “And
being Asian makes you mysterious, which lots of guys love. You can talk them
into trying different things just by claiming to know ancient sex techniques.”

“Please don’t tell me I have to dress like a geisha.” Suzi
groaned. Would she lose her street credibility if she repeatedly banged her
forehead on the table?

“Only if you want to.” Lotty chuckled. “If you use Japanese
methods, you can even walk on their backs.”

“Can I wear spike heels?” Suzi knew her wisecracking
increased in direct proportion to her nerves but she couldn’t seem to shut her
mouth.

Lotty didn’t answer. Instead she reached into her briefcase
and withdrew a wholesale catalogue. Placing it on the table between them, she
flipped to the first of several marked pages. The item featured was an
expensive, computerized massage mat that, according to the sales text, provided
a full-body massage plus heat.

“I got the scoop on the club’s state-of-the-art toys from a
friend who worked there last year,” the sex consultant said. “They have every
toy and gadget made. This is only one of the massage products you can use in
your assigned room. You just have to get it from the supply cabinet.”

Suzi examined the page closely. This mat, when placed on top
of the massage table and under the customer, could almost make the masseuse
obsolete.

“With this baby under the john,” Lotty continued, “all you’d
have to do is a little acupressure work on the temples or a little kneading on
the shoulders. Unless they ask for more personal attention, that is.”

Again the consultant reached into the briefcase and brought
out a second catalogue, a full-color directory of sex toys. Lotty turned to a
marked page and pointed to an item she’d circled. Suzi gulped when she looked
at the hollow, flesh-colored, rocket-shaped object.

“This is a male vibrator,” Lotty explained. “You place it
over their—”

“I get the picture,” Suzi interrupted, feeling green.

“Well, the Xecutive Branch has a stockroom full of toys like
this so you never have to touch the john’s johnson.” Lotty pushed the two
catalogues over to Suzi. “Check these out to see what props you can use.
Setting the scene is a big part of the game, you see.”

Suzi flipped through the earmarked pages, examining the
variety of massage props and toys, from a vibrator that strapped on the
masseuse’s hand to aromatherapy masks to help relax facial muscles. Maybe with
the help of these items, she wouldn’t have to get too personal with the
customers.

“I’ve brought a few things.” Lotty opened her briefcase
again. “I want you to have some hands-on practice.”

Her pulse stuttered. Did Lotty intend to call in one of the
cops for a practice massage? Suzi had been careful to maintain a “good buddy”
relationship with her fellow police officers, turning down the occasional
request for a date. But the professional distance she’d developed wouldn’t
stand up to her practicing happy endings on some horny Metro PD detective.

Lotty placed several vibrating toys on the table and then
pulled a flesh-toned, pillowy object out of her briefcase. Before Suzi’s
startled eyes, the woman proceeded to blow up the item until it expanded into a
full-size, anatomically correct male sex doll.

“Good lungs and a strong mouth were important in my former
profession,” Lotty joked.

The sex consultant moved to stand by Suzi and arranged the
doll on the table so its oversized, rubber manhood protruded within easy reach.
Then she picked up a toy that resembled a pair of woman’s lips with a pouch
attached. A wire ran from the pouch to a hand control.

“This is another style of male vibrator,” Lotty explained.

Suzi nodded and forced herself to take the toy from Lotty’s
hand. Its soft plastic lips, painted a bright red, formed a perfect O.

“Place it over his pride and joy,” Lotty instructed.

With reluctance, Suzi slid the vibrator down the doll’s hard
shaft. Lotty took the hand control and moved to the doll’s head. As she
massaged the doll’s temples, the sex consultant turned the vibrator to the
lowest setting. The male doll bucked as though in a seizure and shimmied across
the tabletop.

“That looks like a lot of fun,” Suzi joked.

“It works better on the live ones.” Lotty’s smile was a
little wicked as she turned off the vibrator. “They like it even better if you
blindfold them.” When Suzi gaped at her, Lotty continued. “Just tell them it
heightens their sense of touch to wear a blindfold. That way, you don’t have to
worry about them staring at you while you work.”

The sex consultant pulled a package of disposable latex
gloves out of her bottomless briefcase. “And, whatever you do, always wear
gloves when you work, even though the Xecutive Branch’s clientele is pretty
select.” Lotty handed the gloves to Suzi. “The club provides these in every
room.”

Suzi just nodded, controlling her nervous joking with
effort.

“And if anyone asks for a little oral pleasure, just say
you’re allergic and have asthma.” Lotty smiled at Suzi’s horrified look. “If
the john doesn’t like it, he can always book a different masseuse the next
time.”

“Tilt.”
Suzi’s mind swirled with nightmarish images
of male members and sex toys, latex gloves and blindfolds. “Maybe I could get a
job on the club’s cleaning crew? Or maybe they need a temporary office clerk?”

Lotty shook her head but her expression was sympathetic. “Sorry,
kid. You’ll have a lot more access to the club and its secrets as one of the
customer-servicing staff. Besides, your boyfriend will love all the little
tricks you’ll be learning.”

Suzi almost asked, “What boyfriend?” but stuck to her policy
of never discussing her love life—or lack thereof—at work. Lotty turned back to
her briefcase, extracted a tiny cylinder and strapped it to her index finger
with a Velcro band. Holding the finger up, the sex consultant touched a button
that set the toy humming.

“This tiny vibrator can be used on the low setting to
massage neck muscles, temples, even the male G-spot, you know, that smooth skin
behind their testicles,” Lotty instructed. “But never use it to internally
stimulate the prostate and give a john an A-spot orgasm. The vibrator could
slip off and not be seen for a month of Sundays.”

Too numb to be shocked anymore, Suzi pulled a notepad out of
her jacket pocket and began to take notes.

Chapter Five

Dalton glanced up from the paperwork on his desk as the interrogation
room door squeaked open. Suzi exited the room followed by a smiling,
business-suited woman. Dalton shook his head in amazement. The bullpen rumors
were true. Metro PD had hired Luscious Lola as a consultant. For the first time
in days, he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

As Dalton watched, Lola shifted her soft-sided briefcase so
she could shake hands with Suzi. The petite detective smiled and said something
to the ex-prostitute before they parted company. Standing, Dalton approached
Suzi as she walked over to her desk and placed a large and obviously heavy
plastic bag on its surface. A man-sized, deflated foot protruded from the bag.

“Hi, Cho,” Dalton said as he reached her desk. “Whatcha got
there? Boyfriend-in-a-bag? Just add air?”

“Yeah, I need a date next Friday. It’s Valentine’s Day, you
know.” Suzi was quick as always with the comeback. “How ’bout you? You going to
fill your inflatable woman with helium and get high on love?”

“Half the squad would volunteer as your date if you’d give
’em a chance,” Dalton ribbed her. “Of course, you’d have to knock off those
‘don’t touch’ vibes and maybe flirt a little.”

“Don’t start with me, Bull,” she warned.

At the sound of Jason’s nickname for him, Dalton winced and
rubbed an ache under his breastbone. His partner had bestowed the “Bull” handle
on him, not for his eighteen-inch neck and muscular build, but for the line of
bullshit Dalton successfully fed to women when he was on the make. He’d
suffered the nickname with grace before but now it was a painful reminder of
his dead friend.

“I miss him too.” Suzi pitched the words for his ears only.

Dalton looked into her dark, empathetic eyes and nodded.
Then clearing his throat, he put his plan into action. “Want to join me for a
double latte break at Starbucks?”

“Anything to get away from the cop-shop java and the
contents of this bag.”

Suzi gestured to the groaning package, which was slowly
settling onto its side. Another stiffer part of the inflatable man now
protruded from the bag. With a gasp, Suzi shoved the offending appendage back
out of sight. As Dalton snorted in an effort not to laugh, she opened her desk
drawer and grabbed a roll of duct tape. In less than sixty seconds, she’d taped
every inch of the bag closed.

Dalton gave a short whistle. “With reflexes like that, you
should take up calf roping.”

Suzi eyed him with suspicion as she removed her coat from
the back of her desk chair and shrugged it on. “Was that a compliment? Or are
you trying to steer—no pun intended—the conversation to Bull riding?”

Dalton smiled at that. Suzi was a pal. He’d never put the
moves on her. She was pretty in an exotic, girl-next-door way and courageous
under fire, but he thought of her as a little sister. And despite his general
mistrust of women, he knew he could rely on her.

“I plead innocent,” he said as they walked out of the
bullpen. Dalton pushed open a side exit door and held it for her. As she
slipped past him, he adopted an exaggerated Texan accent and continued. “But,
if you ever get a hankering to try a few rodeo moves, just give me a holler.”

The good-natured ribbing continued as they strolled down the
block to Starbucks. The February chill was almost welcome after the stifling
heat in the bullpen. When they reached the coffee shop, Dalton again opened the
door for Suzi, who marched in and claimed one of the few open tables. They hung
their coats on their chair backs to hold the table and walked to the counter to
order. The rich aroma of ground coffee was so pervasive, he wondered if he
could get a caffeine buzz just by breathing the air in the shop.

Dalton ordered a double latte. Suzi however took forever to
choose her drink, finally settling on hazelnut. After dissing her about her
sissy coffee selection, he paid for both drinks and they wound their way back
to their table.

Suzi slid onto her wooden chair, giving Dalton a curious
look as he gingerly lowered his sore backside onto his seat.

“What? An old bullet wound acting up?” she asked.

Dalton made a production out of stirring his double latte, hoping
the steam from the hot drink would mask his blush. The tenderness was a
souvenir from his visit with Mistress Bella.

“I strained my lower back a little moving my stuff into
Jason’s house.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

“Oh that’s right.” The compassion was clear in her voice. “I
heard he left you his house.”

“Yeah, and one scary cat. All it does is stare at me.”

“I’ve met Chi,” Suzi answered. “The cat probably misses
Jason as much as we do.”

Dalton nodded, the pain of Jason’s death palpable between
them. Lost in thought, he sipped his hot drink. Finally, Suzi reached across
the small table and placed her hand on his.

“Look, Bull, I know you want to be a part of this
investigation but the captain’s just looking out for your skin.”

Again Dalton nodded. Then he jumped into the reason he’d
maneuvered Suzi away from prying police ears. “I can’t
officially
be
part of the investigation,” he began. “But I’m available to do phone calls,
legwork, whatever you need.”

Removing the warm weight of her hand from his, Suzi looked
as if she were about to argue. He hurried on. “I can’t sit on my thumbs while
you search for Jason’s killers. I’ll quit the force, if that’s what it takes to
be involved.”

Suzi sighed and folded her hands around the cup of hazelnut
coffee. For several seconds she peered into the hot liquid as though it were a
crystal ball.

“Dalton, I’ll share everything we find out with you, keep
you apprised of every move we make but that’s it.” She raised her eyes to meet
his. “That’s all I can do. You know Jason wouldn’t want you to lose your badge
over this.”

Dalton cursed, the ripe expletive drawing shocked looks from
nearby coffee drinkers. Apologizing, he lowered his voice and tried a more
persuasive approach.

“I think the captain’s right to put someone on the club’s
staff, although I don’t like thinking about you there,” he said truthfully.
“And I know from Jason’s journal that customers have limited access to the
club.”

Suzi leaned forward in her chair. “Jason kept a journal?”

“Yep, he had several covering all his cases. He wanted to be
a crime novelist, like Joseph Waumbaugh,” Dalton explained.

“There anything that could help us in his latest journal?”

“Most of it was about Mistress Tori,” he said. “But after
her interrogation the other day, I don’t think she’s involved in what
happened.”

On Tuesday, Dalton had joined Suzi observing Tori Preston’s
questioning through the two-way mirror of the screening room. Comparing notes
afterward, they’d agreed the S&M moonlighting coed had been sincerely
distraught over Jason’s death.

“If you don’t mind,” Dalton said, “I’d like to take a look
at the tape of Tori’s interrogation in case we missed anything.”

“Sure. I’ll put my copy in an envelope on your desk when we
get back,” Suzi said. “Just keep a low profile, okay, so Bennett doesn’t chew
my ass out.”

Dalton nodded and took another drink of his coffee. The dark
roast was pleasantly bitter on his tongue and the caffeine was finally hitting
his brain. It was time to tell Suzi the rest. He cleared his throat and took
the plunge. “Even though the club’s customers can’t wander around the place at
will, I purchased my membership card last night.”

“You what?” Her voice rose an octave.

“I went undercover as the owner of a security firm—a guy
with a craving for some domination.”

This time the creative curse words were from Suzi’s lips and
the couple next to them angrily moved to a corner table. Neither detective
spared them a second look.

“Are you
nuts
?” Suzi asked.

“Cool it, Cho,” Dalton tried to hush her As he glanced
around the dimly lit Starbucks. Curious patrons turned away from his glare. He
faced Suzi again. “There’s nothing you can say to talk me out of it. And if you
think bringing the captain into this will stop me, you’re dreaming.”

Suzi searched his eyes then capitulated. “Okay, you win. I
owe you and Jason for saving my butt during that riot so I won’t tell Bennett.
But while you’re being some S&M loose cannon, try not to blow my cover and
get us both killed.”

Dalton leaned forward. “It’s not as if I’ll be at the club
every night. You can feed me names of staffers and I can do some legwork. I’ll
stakeout their homes, follow their cars, whatever you need. And I’ll let you
know what I find out.”

“Like what?” Suzi’s voice held an edge of sarcasm. “Which
whip is Mistress Tori’s favorite?”

“For your information, Tori Preston quit the club.”

Suzi’s curiosity beat out her irritation. “That’s
interesting. She claimed she was moving back to Pennsylvania, so maybe she did.
I guess we can check up on her.”

“Consider it done,” Dalton said. “The woman who’s taking
Tori’s clients goes by Mistress Bella. Think you can get me her real name so I
can dig up the dirt?”

“Consider it done,” Suzi parroted with a reluctant smile.
“As long as I get the masseuse job, we can share information.” She took a sip
of her drink. “My interview’s tomorrow so I’ll have to ‘cram for the exam’
tonight. If the club’s personnel director has the poor judgment to hire me,
I’ll try to meet Bella as soon as I’m on the job.”

“Thanks, Suzi,” Dalton didn’t conceal his gratitude. “We’ve
got to start somewhere. I just can’t believe Jason was killed because he
uncovered a bunch of underage girls working at the club. There may be runaways
on the staff but I’ve got a gut feeling there’s something bigger behind all of
this.”

* * * * *

Dalton used the remote on Jason’s coffee table to pause the
videotape. Tori Preston’s pale, tear-stained face loomed larger than life on
the big-screen television. Her unblinking blue eyes shone with a pain that
matched the misery Dalton viewed in the mirror every morning. This girl had
cared for Jason.

He wasn’t surprised. Jason had been the best friend he’d
ever had and a great partner. He’d been a wisecracking babe magnet but Dalton
had trusted Jason with his life many times and found his trust well-placed.
God, he missed him.

Dropping the remote into his lap, Dalton picked up a cold,
leftover slice of the pizza that had been his dinner hours before. Despite the
fact the meat toppings appeared to be petrified and the vegetables resembled a
dried flower arrangement, he took a bite and washed it down with warm beer. He
was too lost in thought to care much about his taste buds or his stomach
lining.

Having watched the interrogation video several times, Dalton
was convinced Tori’d had nothing to do with his partner’s murder. She’d been
genuinely upset by his death. And her surprised reaction to the news Jason had
been investigating the employment of underage runaways at the club had been
very believable. If Tori had been acting, she deserved an Oscar.

Dalton lifted the remote and pushed the play button. The TV
picture jumped to life as the pretty blonde answered a question about the
club’s staff.

“All the employees I’ve met at the club are over eighteen.
Most of them are young, college-age, but definitely adults.” Tori stopped and
seemed to be scanning some mental files. “It’s possible runaways are involved
in some of the private parties the clients throw.”

“Private parties?” Captain Bennett’s voice rumbled from
off-camera.

“The clients can arrange hot tub or mattress room parties,”
the girl explained. “The mattress rooms are just what they sound like, large
rooms where the floors are covered with mattresses for the swingers.”

“And who picks the guest lists for these parties?” the
captain questioned.

“The club’s manager Clyde Salvi will either hire party girls
or the clients will bring their own guests.” Tori used her hands in a natural
manner as she spoke and never avoided eye contact or blinked nervously. “I
haven’t been to any of the parties so I can’t tell you about the girls who join
in.”

Dalton used the remote to fast-forward the interrogation
tape for several minutes. The high-pitched squeal of the video’s accelerated
voices didn’t faze Chi, who perched like an Egyptian cat god on top of the
television. When Dalton neared the end of the tape, he hit the play button to
watch Tori’s final words again.

“I’ve given notice at the club,” the girl said. “I’m moving
back to Pennsylvania to look after my mom who’s getting pretty frail.”

“Before you leave, we’ll need her name, address and phone
number in case we have to reach you,” Captain Bennett’s disembodied voice
explained.

“Sure,” Tori said. “I want Jason’s killer caught.” Her voice
rose in volume and she trembled. “We became friends. I know he wasn’t a junkie.
Somebody shot Jason full of drugs and threw him in the river. I want that
person to pay.”

As Dalton watched, the girl looked down and two tears fell
onto her tightly clasped hands. Then the screen went black. With a sigh, he
rewound the video and slipped it into its envelope to return to Suzi in the
morning.

Jason’s journal lay on a side table. Dalton reached for the
leather-bound book, which now bristled with yellow sticky notes. Dalton had
marked every page even slightly pertinent to the case. He turned now to a
passage about the club’s swinger parties and reread what Jason had written.

For an additional fee, the club’s swinging clients can
hold parties in the mattress, theme or hot tub rooms. I’d bet my right nut
Clyde Salvi “recruits” teenage runaways as talent for these orgies. Now if I
could find just one of these kids willing to talk.

Dalton had seen surveillance photos of the club’s manager.
Salvi was grim and intimidating—a knee-breaker with dead eyes. No wonder none
of the runaway girls or boys wanted to talk. Captain Bennett had cops visiting
shelters and local teen hangouts to interview the kids. But so far, they hadn’t
turned up anyone willing to admit to working the Xecutive Branch parties. And
Dalton was afraid they never would.