In the Still of the Night:Sexy Romantic Suspense (Book 2 The Blonde Barracuda's Sizzling Suspense Series) (10 page)

Disposing of the washcloth, he poured them each a glass of wine before he returned to their bed. She sat up and snuggled next to him, winding her fingers in the short hairs on his chest. He felt a surge of tenderness, gratified that she couldn’t seem to get enough of him any more than he could her.

“Darlin’, I don’t want what happened today to ever happen again.”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry, Jake. I’ll kill her first.”

At his hoot of laughter, she sat up in bed and pierced him with a glare. Mimicking Dalila’s haughty voice and mannerism, Lexie said, “She thinks it’s ‘sweet’ that I’m a fighter?”

She tossed her head. “Just wait until she spends weeks crawling around like an old woman, unable to stand up straight because of the bruises covering her skinny-assed body! And yes, I’m going for that ass of hers and big boobs if I do nothing else.”

Jake ducked in mock fear, but couldn’t stop laughing as he scooped her up in his arms and held her close.

“Damn, Darlin’. She’d never know what hit her. But, Lexie, it won’t be necessary. I hit her where it hurt more. In her pride. And in her driving need for professional recognition. With Brady—who by the way, came as close to hitting a woman as he ever has, and Paul, as witnesses, I warned her, that if she ever came on to me again, I would file a suit against her. What she didn’t realize was that Manny Jacobson who’s in the line for the Cabinet post that heads up her agency served with me in Iraq. We saved each other’s ass more than once. And I can tell you those haji were a hell of a lot more powerful than one destructive woman.”

Jake leaned down and took the wine glass out of Lexie’s hand. “Do you hear me, Darlin’? Do you understand?”

When she nodded, he tipped up her chin insisting that she look at him.

“Lexie, we have to deal with another issue. A much more important one. What happened today clarified it for me. We need to talk about when we are going to get married.”

He held up his hand when she started to interrupt.

“No, Darlin. Let me finish. We agreed six months ago that we are getting married. And Lexie we are. You know that and I know that.”

Again, he pressed his finger against her hips.

“Darlin, I know you’re scared. I damn near died six months ago. Came too close. I know how frightened you were. But Lexie, unlike Anthony, I didn’t die. And I’m not going to. I am very much alive and deeply in love with you. But I want it all. I want to live with you. With my wife.”

“But, Jake, we
are
living together.”

“No, Lexie. I want to live in our own home. As much as I appreciate Master Wan and Madam Juen, I want to live with my wife. In our own home. Hell, we can build a house next door if you want. The firm Brady and I are creating allows us to live anywhere. We are free agents. But I want to be here. Next to your Strong Women Survive Center. Getting married won’t hamper you, Lexie. It will let both of us soar.”

Lexie’s eyes filled with tears.

“Jake, it’s not that. You know how much I love you. I just need a little more time. In four months it will be a year since Anthony was killed. In some hideous way, I need to survive that anniversary. To confirm that I lived through the worst imaginable thing. And that I can go forward and find the courage to be your wife. Can you understand that?”

As much as he didn’t want to understand, Jake admitted that he did. She’d been clear when she’d abandoned him in the hospital. Once she was sure he would survive she’d left. She told him she simply wasn’t strong enough to survive another loss.

Master Wan had talked him through his fear, his frustration. Jake still remembered his words, his wise counsel.

“Jai Li is the strongest woman I know, Jake. She suffered deeply in the past but found the courage to overcome her fears. Now with Anthony’s death, she needs to find her courage again. She is shattered, Jake. But she will recover. With your love and support, and mine, she will come to her courage in her own way. Give her time, Jake. I promise you, she will be your wife.”

Jake leaned down, kissed first one eyelid than the other, and licked off the tears on her cheeks.

“Damn, even your tears taste good, Lexie. Just so you know, I’d wait a lifetime for you. But I’m not going to. We’re going to get married, Darlin’. Soon. You know that, don’t you, Lexie?”

She smiled up at him through her tears. “Yes. Jake. I know that.”

He turned her toward him and slipped his hand under the covers, a wide grin spreading over his face.

“Now, about those nipple piercings, honey….”

Chapter 9

Lexie stared in disbelief at her computer screen. Thanks to her inside connections, she’d received an answer to her inquiry about the Rising Sun massage parlor. Clearly
MRS
. Jensen hadn’t been able to blacklist her. Although Lexie was sure she had tried using all the passive aggressive techniques unhappy bureaucrats used to feel more powerful. After her little display of pique at the Department of Public Health, Lexie and Ming had gone two floors down to the offices of the City Council to pull a few strings. Lexie appeared frequently before the Council. She was often an expert witness for organizations that worked with victims of domestic violence. Her snappy repartee with the Council members made her a favorite of advocacy organizations who went before the Council seeking support. And the press loved her. Her striking blond hair and flashing dark eyes coupled with her bodacious figure and signature form-fitting dresses, not to mention her outrageous shoes, made great copy—and even better television. They’d nicknamed her the Blonde Barracuda for the way that Council members avoided getting on her bad side.

Lexie spoke to Ginny Lynn, the Council’s longtime secretary who behind the scenes was a friend of Lexie’s. Three years ago, Ginny had waylaid her in the hall, asking if she could speak with her. She told Lexie an all too familiar tale. Ginny’s twenty year old daughter was in an abusive relationship, and Ginny had lost any hope of convincing her daughter to leave the violent man. Lexie had done her magic, and today Margaret Lynn was one of Lexie’s most loyal volunteers and on her way to earning her black belt in Karate.

As much as she hated asking Ginny Lynn for what some would consider inside information, the ten minutes with
MRS.
Jensen had proven once again, how ineffective “proper channels” were. Staring at the list on her computer, Lexie knew that it would have been months, if ever, before she would have gotten this information through the public inquiry process. What guilt she felt about using Ginny’s inside position, was assuaged by the blockbuster information contained in the chart on her desktop. She shivered with a mix of excitement and anger.

Recently, Lexie had begun to build a case against the Korean massage parlors. To date, her work had been strictly under the radar. Ming’s missions had been just a small part of her investigative work. Lexie had a small pang of guilt, thinking how upset Jake and Master Wan and Dan Rourke had been about Ming’s venture into the District. It was ironic that was what captured their attention. If they knew some of the other things she was doing, they’d be furious. She hated working behind Jake’s back, but until she had more information, she couldn’t risk him wanting her to pull back. The same with the Vice Squad. She knew they probably had as much information as she did, but they were hamstrung by police procedure, the red tape they had to cut through, and the conflicting interest groups they had to serve. One of which was the City Council. No, if anyone was able to take action, stir the pot, it was Lexie. But it was critical that she not go public until she had irrefutable evidence. What she’d learned so far was explosive. But a badly timed bombshell could be disastrous. Not to mention ineffective. Not Lexie’s style at all.

Most of Lexie’s information came from the street. She had relationships with many of the hookers and pimps who worked the corners. These were the pros who’d been around forever but didn’t work in the parlors. The huge increase in the international sex trade had changed the face of the underground sex community. While Lexie was slowly making inroads into the distinctly Asian market, her best contacts were the older prostitutes who’d been in the business for ten, sometimes fifteen years. They brought Lexie information, and she gave them support. Some of them came from their corners to attend her classes. They first came to learn self-defense, and then—not as often as Lexie hoped—some became part of the survival program. But whether they joined her or merely tolerated her requests for information, Lexie had the respect of the street. Or, at least of the women on the street.

Her bombshell information appeared innocent enough. It was a straightforward list of the 127 massage parlors in the District. Lexie and her team had determined that fully 110 of them were illicit spas. Brothels. As bad as it was, the number didn’t surprise her. The name of the establishment, the address and telephone number, and the name of the manager were each in a separate column. But it was the fifth and sixth columns that caught Lexie’s eye. The fifth column listed the name of the owner. For most of the parlors this column was empty. Lexie snorted. Of course. Who wanted their companies associated with a massage parlor? But it was the sixth column that had her investigative juices flowing. It was marked by an X or a P, and Lexie knew from her sources that the innocuous-looking “P” stood for permit. As in permitted by the City. By the Department of Public Health, no less. This meant that the city had put its legal imprimatur on the establishment confirming that it had been investigated, proven to be a legitimate massage business and given a city-backed permit. Lexie’s breath caught in her throat when she saw the ignominious “P” beside the Rising Sun Spa. Her probable list of massage parlors that were fronts for prostitution numbered one hundred and ten. A quick cross-check with her new list indicated that at least ninety of them had the damning “P” in column six.

As excited as Lexie was with the information, she wasn’t ready to go public. No, when she went public she wanted all those columns filled in—or an explanation for an omission. For every permit that the City issued, they were required to list the owner. That 90% of the establishments licensed by the city did not list the owners wasn’t only a scandal, it was a
crime
. Lexie knew she was playing with fire. The information she’d gathered so far confirmed that most of the listed owners were shell corporations protecting the real owners. Not surprisingly, her research showed that the real owners were unsavory at best. Given Dan and now Jake hovering in the background, she knew she had to be careful, not let them know what she was up to. But, Lexie admitted, playing hardball with the international crime syndicates wasn’t something hard-nosed cops and an overprotective special agent would—or should—take lightly.

Because of the danger involved, Lexie conceived a two part plan. First she intended to expose the permitting practices of the City. That would produce national headlines, particularly the incendiary way she intended to expose it. The second element—revealing the involvement of the syndicates—even she admitted, required other resources. But her plan was simple. Part A would cause a bombshell explosion. So much so that the City, law enforcement agencies and the glorious Fourth Estate—the press—would be required to step in. They were big enough and protected enough to go after the syndicates. All she had to do was feed them the juicy tidbits and do it in a public forum where the information couldn’t be ignored. Her plan was to identify at least one fish big enough to warrant national attention and scare the bejeezus out of the rest. Oh, and try not to get killed in the process.

The list on her computer gave her the information she needed to expose the illegal licensing practices. But lists weren’t effective. Not sexy enough. Not if you wanted to make a splash. Exposing sex crimes required tangible, visible evidence of the crimes and the victims. They required sex. In the trade it was called “b-roll.” In reality, it meant heads would roll. Bureaucratic heads
and
political ones.

Lexie intended that her “b-roll,” the videotape she planned to distribute to the television stations before she played it at the City Council, needed to show the lawbreakers at work. Translated, she needed videotaped evidence of the so-called “johns” coming in and out of the “licensed” establishments, and a taped exchange of money. She also needed recorded interviews from the sex workers—the victims—themselves. In other words, she needed documented, visible evidence that would shock and enrage the viewer. All of which meant that someone needed to get inside of the establishments with a hidden camera. The job was too dangerous to turn over to any of her girls. There was only one person she could trust and who she was comfortable could handle the risk. Lexie would have to do it herself.

~~~

Pointing to Lexie’s full breasts, Ming giggled. “Those really are a problem you know, Lexie. No Asian girls that I know have such big boobies.”

Lexie laughed. “You’re probably right about that, Ming, but let’s put it this way. If I get to the point tonight that anyone sees my bare ‘boobies’ my disguise will already have been blown.”

A frown marked Ming’s lovely face as she watched Lexie outline her eyes with black liner—carefully adding a slight lift at the corners.

“Lexie, please let me go with you. I speak Korean. I don’t need a wig or special make-up. I can handle myself, I promise you.”

Lexie shook her head. “No, Ming. Absolutely not. I will be in enough trouble if Jake and Master Wan find out what I have done. Not to mention Dan Rourke. And remember, Dewa will be with me, as my pimp.” She grinned and added, “Not to mention the best videographer we have.”

Lexie gave herself a critical once over in the mirror. Ming was right. Her breasts were too big. But she thought with a grimace, in addition to making their eyes and noses more “American,” the pimp bosses had been adding breast enhancements to their list of makeovers for their girls. The cost of which was added to their debt. The practice, like everything else about the exploitation of these young women, made Lexie see red. And confirmed to her why occasionally she needed to ‘hold back’ information from Jake and Master Wan. Jake’s trip to