Death, Taxes, and Hot Pink Leg Warmers (35 page)

Only one more day.

I could hardly wait!

I hid my pink-striped lingerie bag inside another sack so my mother wouldn’t know what a naughty daughter she’d raised. The three of us had an early dinner at the food court before my mother and Alicia headed back to my town house and I headed to Guys & Dolls for my final Friday-night shift. It wasn’t just one more day until Nick and I could be together, it was one more day before we’d take down Don Geils and his criminal empire. His arrest would be a nice warm-up for the night of passion Nick and I would spend afterward.

*   *   *

I’d just sat down to begin my shift when Don Geils barged into the cash office, interrupting Bernice’s daily foot rub.

“Where’s the produce delivery?” Geils demanded of Merle, as if the poor guy had any control over the club’s independent suppliers. “The damn truck was supposed to be here by four o’clock.”

“I called Valley Produce,” Merle said, releasing Bernice’s foot. “The truck got stuck in holiday traffic. They assured me it will arrive soon.”

I turned away lest my eyes betray me. I knew why the produce delivery was late. Because DEA agents had waylaid the truck just north of Hillsboro. Christina’s cohorts had been in touch with her, keeping her updated on the progress, and she’d passed the information on to me, Nick, and Aaron via text. A huge stash of crystal meth had been discovered hidden in boxes of limes that were marked
GUYS
&
DOLLS—BAR ONLY
.

Agents grilled the driver and determined that, unlike the driver for Stillwater Spirits, he played no conscious role in the drug scheme. They coached him to proceed as usual, though one of the DEA agents rode in the truck with him, posing as a second deliveryman, not only to make sure the driver didn’t contact either his employer or Geils, but also to ensure the drugs were successfully delivered to the club. The agent also had the driver call his employer with a false report of a traffic snarl that had delayed him a couple of hours.

Shortly thereafter, agents moved in on the Valley Produce facility in Edinburg. Large amounts of meth were found on the premises and multiple arrests were made. Most likely the person Merle spoke with when he called was an undercover agent posing as an employee.

The intercom buzzed on Merle’s phone. It was the kitchen staff calling, notifying us the produce delivery had finally arrived and requesting the cash payment.

“It’s about fucking time they got here,” Geils spat. He thumped first Merle, then me, on the forehead. “Take ’im the cash, pipsqueak.”

Whaddya know. The guy had grown to trust me. How ironic. “Yes, sir.”

I grabbed the envelope from Merle and headed back to the kitchen, handing the cash over to one of the dishwashers waiting at the inside door. As he stepped back into the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of the Latino delivery driver standing in the open delivery bay, the undercover DEA agent beside him.

Looked like things were moving right ahead as planned. I loved it when that happened.

Of course, the big day would be tomorrow. It would be fun working with Nick to take down Don Geils, like our own special kind of foreplay.

As I headed back to the cash office, I noted Geils at the bar, speaking with Theo. The bartender finished pouring a drink and immediately made his way to the kitchen for his limes and contraband. Back in the cash office, I continued to watch through the mirror as Theo stopped at the locked storage closet, entered the passcode, and disappeared inside for a moment or two. When he came out, he still had the boxes of limes in his hands but I knew the meth was no longer in the boxes.

I realized then that Merle was watching me watch Theo.

Uh-oh.

I shook my head as if shaking myself awake. “I feel like I’m in a fog today,” I said. “I think it’s all that leftover turkey.”

Merle chuckled. “That stuff will sure put a person out, won’t it? I’m surprised there aren’t some kind of turkey-extract pills sold as a sleeping aid.”

A few hours later, the night wrapped up with little fanfare.

The next night, though, would be an entirely different story.

*   *   *

I sent Mom back to Nacogdoches early Saturday morning after a breakfast of Fruity Pebbles for me, toast and jelly for her.

As I waved good-bye to her from my driveway, I noticed several men from a local moving outfit were down the street, unloading Nick’s couch, coffee table, and big-screen TV from a truck, moving them into the town house he’d leased. His new bed would be delivered today, too. It was going to be nice having Nick so close.

The two of us hooked up at ten o’clock at the Dallas PD headquarters for our final powwow on the Guys & Dolls case.

This time, it wasn’t just me, Nick, Christina, and Aaron in the room, but the plainclothes officer who’d been taking down license plates in the Guys & Dolls parking lot and seven members from the SWAT team, as well.

After handshakes and greetings were exchanged, the rest of us took seats while Aaron remained standing to review the game plan for the evening’s bust.

“We can’t risk the safety of the customers,” Menger said, “so we’ll have to wait until the club is closed for the night before executing the mission.”

I liked the sound of that. I wasn’t just doing a job, I was “executing a mission.” How cool is that?

“We know the drugs are in the club, but we’re also hoping to nab Geils and Wesley Prescott for solicitation and prostitution tonight. Christina is going to string them along until the end of the night when we can apprehend them more easily.”

After what happened to Angelique in the VIP room, when she’d come out battered and bruised, it was clear Geils had told his bouncers not to interfere with the activities in the locked room. But if Christina ended up alone with Prescott in the VIP room, the joke would be on him. Even without a weapon, she could kick his ass.

Aaron turned to me. “Tara, your job is to keep an eye on the club. Wait until all the customers clear out, then go outside as if you’re leaving. That will be the signal for Christina to take Prescott to the VIP room and for the SWAT team to move in. Hold the door open so they can get inside quickly.”

I dipped my head. “Got it.”

He turned to address the SWAT team now. “The muscle is always the last to leave, so you may find yourself contending with several of Geils’s bouncers inside the club. Hopefully they will surrender peacefully, but there’s no guarantees.”

The SWAT members exchanged glances. They were virtually salivating. I doubted they hoped for a peaceful surrender. They looked like they’d like nothing better than to crack some skulls. I had to admit I wouldn’t mind cracking some skulls myself. Well, maybe not skulls. That hit a little too close to home, no pun intended. But I wouldn’t mind cracking a nut or two, especially if the nuts hung between the legs of the Cyclops. He’d violated me. I’d love to return the favor.

Menger handed a stack of papers to the plainclothes officer, gesturing for him to distribute the documents.

“What you’re getting is a rough floor plan of Guys and Dolls,” Aaron said, holding up his sketch of the club’s layout. “You’ll notice there are two sets of doors, the double doors in the front for customers and a back door in the kitchen next to the delivery bay. We’ll need an officer to cover each door in case anyone attempts an escape.”

The most senior member of the SWAT team, a dark-skinned black man with a military-style haircut, quickly assigned the task of door guarding to two of the team members. I had no doubt they’d do the job well. Both stood well over six feet with shoulders broad enough to easily block a train. A doorway would be a cinch.

Menger addressed the SWAT team. “You know what to do once you’re inside. Take control. Restrain the suspects. Round up any weapons.” Menger glanced around the room. “Any questions?”

I raised my hand. “After I come outside and give the signal, I go back inside with the SWAT team, right?”

Menger shook his head. “No. Leave it up to SWAT to get things under control. Once things settle down you can come back in.”

“But I’ll miss all the fun!” I wanted to see the look on Geils’s face when the group stormed in, when he realized he’d been duped for weeks, that the little “pipsqueak” had used the numbers to figure things out and put an end to his sordid and violent criminal empire.

“Sorry, Tara,” Menger said. “We don’t want to take any unnecessary chances.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed, though I understood his position. IRS special agents received weapons and self-defense training, but the SWAT team was far better equipped and trained to deal with potentially violent situations, especially when a group of particularly gigantic thugs were involved.

The group exchanged cell phone numbers just in case an unanticipated problem arose.

“All right,” Menger said, dismissing us with a clap of his hands. “Tonight’s the night.”

Nick glanced my way and quirked a brow.

Yep, tonight was indeed
the night.

chapter forty-three

A Walk in the Park

Christina, Nick, and I walked back to our cars together.

“Tonight’s your big date with Prescott,” I teased Christina. “You gonna go all out? Maybe get your legs waxed? Wear some glittery body gel?”

She mocked a gag in reply. “Ajay looked online for a chastity belt. One with a spring trap that would slice off Prescott’s wiener.”

“Any luck?”

“No.”

Federal agents are nothing if not resourceful. “Maybe you could strap a cheese grater down there.”

“Not a bad idea.”

Nick buckled involuntarily, a look of horror on his face. “Is this the kind of thing women talk about when men aren’t around?”

Christina and I exchanged glances and shrugged. Maybe not all women talked like this, but the conversation was fairly routine for the two of us.

When we reached our cars, Nick and I bade Christina farewell.

“How about some lunch?” Nick asked. “We could pick something up and take it back to my new place.”

I glanced at my watch. It was eleven-thirty. Only a half hour until the time I was to meet Brett at the Dallas Arboretum if I wanted to reconcile. I didn’t want to, of course. I’d always have a place in my heart for Brett, but Nick was the man I wanted to be with. I was certain of that. Still, a part of me cared enough about Brett to want him to be happy. I hoped things had gone well for him and Fiona. I wanted to know that they had, that Brett was happy.

When I didn’t answer right away, Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re going to the Arboretum, aren’t you? You want to make sure Brett isn’t crying himself to sleep at night.”

No sense denying it. “Is it wrong to want him to be happy?”

Nick sighed. “I suppose not. But what are you going to do if he’s there?”

I hadn’t really thought that through. I suppose I didn’t really think he’d show up. “I don’t know. Sign him up for the Big D Dating Service?”

I looked away for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts and feelings, before turning back to Nick. “I need closure, Nick. You understand, right? Isn’t that why you went out with Natalie again? To smooth things over after the green bean incident?”

When his ex-fiancée popped up as a match on the dating service site, he’d taken her out to dinner. Though I hadn’t pushed him to divulge what had taken place that evening, it seemed clear to me that he’d reconnected with her to put some regrets to rest.

“All right,” he said finally, taking my hand and pulling me possessively toward him. “But starting tonight you are all mine. Every luscious inch of you.” He pressed my knuckles to his lips and gave me a smoldering look before climbing into his truck and driving off.

*   *   *

I drove the Mini Cooper to the Arboretum and climbed out, making my way to the appointed spot. I checked my watch. It was straight up noon now.

And there was no sign of Brett.

I was surprised to feel a sob burst from my chest. It wasn’t a sad sob, necessarily, just a way of expelling feelings, a catharsis of sorts, an unclogging of my feelings like some sort of emotional Drano.

I plunked down in the dry grass and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm myself, to cleanse my emotional palate, to finally, once and for all, let Brett go.

“Tara?”

My eyes snapped open and I looked up to find Brett looking down at me.

Crap.

“Hey” was all I could manage. I didn’t get up. I
couldn’t
get up. I realized now that my coming here had been a huge mistake. He wanted me back, and my presence here had misled him into believing I wanted him back, too. I’d been horribly, unintentionally cruel.

He sat down beside me, saying nothing for a few moments. Neither of us looked at the other, we simply stared off into the distance.

I couldn’t let this go on any longer, though. The longer we sat here, the harder it would be to tell him the truth. I mustered up my courage and turned to him.

Oddly, he didn’t look happy to see me. Rather, he looked sheepish and pensive. Not what I’d expect from a man who thought he’d be reconciling with his girlfriend.

I realized I must look sheepish and pensive, too.

Then it hit me like the Cowboys’ biggest defensive tackle. He’d come here for the same reason I had. To ease his conscience. To get some closure.

To say good-bye.

I gave him a soft smile. “You’ve decided to move ahead with Fiona, haven’t you?”

His expression became both perplexed and relieved. “How did you…?” And then he got it, too. “Ah. You and Nick?”

I nodded and we shared a laugh.

“Well,” he said, “I guess the fact that we both showed up here today says something.”

It did. It said a lot of things. That what Brett and I had shared had been special. That each of us would always be remembered fondly by the other. That while the two of us were not meant to be together forever, we were both glad for the time we’d had and wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

“The curls are cute,” he said.

“Thanks. They’re easy, too. I may keep ’em when the case is over.”