Justice Served - Part 39
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Part 39

Mitch nodded wordlessly.

"All right. Good job." To Jasmine, Rebecca said, "Take him home."

v Mitch let himself into the apartment, made his way carefully in the dark to the bathroom, and closed the door behind him before turning on the light. He stripped and tossed his clothes into a pile, then removed the chest wrap and his drag gear, laying everything on top of the toilet tank. With one arm, he reached awkwardly behind his back and jerked the tape from his skin, mindless of the quick rush of pain.

Then Mitch.e.l.l stepped into the shower and turned both dials on full. The rst blast to hit her was icy cold, but she never inched. Eyes closed, she washed the smell of smoke and beer and dark secrets from her skin. Eventually she felt clean, at least on the outside. She toweled off, brushed her teeth, and turned out the light before opening the door.

Moving by memory, she made her way to the sofa bed, carefully lifted the sheet, and slid in. Then she lay on her back, her eyes on the ceiling, * 264 *

Justice Served wide awake. She could feel the heat of Sandy's body only inches away, but she did not touch her. She lay there, remembering the stroke of Irina's tongue inside her mouth, the crush of Irina's b.r.e.a.s.t.s against her chest, the tease of Irina's sure hand between her thighs, making her swell and ache and long for more. She thought of the lies and wondered what part was real and what had only been an act. Her mind and body were alive with confusion and, worse, simmering desire, but she dared not touch Sandy. Not now. It would be wrong.

She didn't notice the tears until Sandy's ngertips brushed over her cheeks.

"C'mere, baby," Sandy said softly as she drew Mitch.e.l.l's head down to her breast.

"Sandy, honey, I..." Mitch.e.l.l had no idea what she should say.

"Tonight-"

"Shh. It's okay." Sandy kissed her forehead. "I don't need to know what you did. You're here. That's what matters."

Mitch.e.l.l turned on her side and wrapped her arms around Sandy, drawing up one thigh onto Sandy's, trying to get as close as she could.

She closed her eyes and held on tightly. "I love you."

"I know, baby. I know."

* 265 *

* 266 *

Justice Served

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.

Monday, 7:20 a.m., Sloan Security Of ces Rebecca handed Mitch.e.l.l a cup of coffee. "You did good work last night, Detective."

They were alone in the conference room, waiting for Jason and Sloan to gather the preliminary data from Sandy's review of the videotapes. Mitch.e.l.l rested her hips against the counter and stared into her coffee.

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Undercover work is one of the most dif cult things a police of cer can do," Rebecca said conversationally as she leaned next to Mitch.e.l.l.

She sipped her coffee and gazed through the windows opposite them at the crisp blue sky. "A good undercover of cer is an invaluable a.s.set to a team like this."

"I'll do my best."

"Never doubted it." Rebecca angled her body and studied Mitch.e.l.l's face. "Mitch is unique. He gets us in places that no one else could. I also appreciate that his a.s.signments, especially this one, put added pressure on you."

"It's all so new," Mitch.e.l.l admitted quietly. "Mitch, the work, how it all ts together. Me and Sandy."

Rebecca nodded. "It's a lot to handle, and you're doing just ne.

I wouldn't put you out there if I didn't trust you to deal with whatever comes up. No arrest is worth one of my people."

"I just don't want to let you down."

"You won't. Not if you keep your head on straight." Rebecca took a sip of coffee. "How's Sandy doing?"

Mitch.e.l.l colored. "She's good. Okay." She turned the coffee cup in her hands and nally tasted the contents. It was hot, and that was about all she could tell. "I think she understands what I'm doing. On the job, I mean."

* 267 *

RADCLY fFE "Then you're luckier than you know."

"No," Mitch.e.l.l said softly. "I know how lucky I am."

"You have a problem-on the job, at home-you come to me.

We'll work it out."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, Lieutenant."

Rebecca straightened as Sloan and Jason came in. "Okay. Let's get to work." She took her seat and the others followed suit. "Tell me you have something for me."

Jason pa.s.sed copies of a printout to both Rebecca and Mitch.e.l.l.

"Not everything, not yet. But we've got a start."

Rebecca perused the list of dates, mentally counting off the intervals between them. "It's a loose pattern, but it's a pattern." She looked from Jason to Sloan. "Can we get the rest of this today?"

"Sandy's on her way," Jason af rmed. "I think we'll have the rest of the dates for you in a couple of hours."

"I want to get a look at the central computers at Port Authority,"

Sloan said.

"I'll make some calls," Rebecca replied. "The captain down there is a good of cer. I think she'll be willing to let us work outside channels a little bit. Watts is meeting with her this morning, so the two of you can coordinate at that end."

Sloan nodded.

"When are we going to bring Captain Henry in on this?" Mitch.e.l.l inquired.

Rebecca shrugged. "When I can bring him a solid package of evidence and enough of a plan to convince him that we don't need the feds to run this operation."

"f.u.c.king-A," Sloan muttered.

"At some point," Rebecca advised, her eyes on Sloan, "Clark is going to get involved. The international human smuggling, traf cking these girls across state lines, the Internet angle-it's all federal. But before they grab up the perps like they did last time, I want the guy who did Hogan and Cruz. And I know he's part of this."

"Got to be," Mitch.e.l.l said. "He's probably the enforcer for this arm of the organized crime network. I'm willing to bet he oversees the transfer of the girls from the port to the stash houses and probably runs all the guys who guard them too. That means he's got rank in the organization."

* 268 *

Justice Served "I agree." Rebecca appeared pleased with Mitch.e.l.l's a.s.sessment.

"Which means he's just the kind of guy that Clark is going to want to try to turn-someone high enough up in the organization to name names. And I want him rst for the murder of two cops, a bent ADA, and an innocent young girl."

"Then let's move fast," Sloan said, eyes gleaming. "I need to stop by Police Plaza to see how my new guys are doing with the work on retooling the computer system. Then I'll head down to Port Authority."

"I expect that Irina will move on Mitch tonight," Rebecca said.

"We've got fteen hours to put this together."

Sloan grinned. "Plenty of time."

Monday, 8:45 a.m., Port of Philadelphia Captain Carla Reiser pa.s.sed Watts a pastry on a paper plate as she sat down next to him on the worn plaid sofa in one corner of her of ce.

She gestured with her coffee cup to the stack of printouts in front of him. "These are the most likely ships to t the pro le and dates you've given me so far."

Watts ri ed through the stack, softly humming a refrain that approximated "We're in the money." "Can we get duty rosters for the shifts when these ships came into port and also for the time they were being off-loaded?"

"I've already got the computers working on that."

"That so?" Watts gave her an appreciative glance as he took a huge bite from the cheese Danish. He chewed, swallowed, and shook his head approvingly. "It's nice you're not busting my b.a.l.l.s over sharing this info."

Carla took a healthy bite of her own Danish and regarded him thoughtfully. "Why should I?"

Watts lifted one beefy shoulder. "Interagency cooperation is more of a pipe dream than a reality."

"This is a big port, Detective. Tons of merchandise move through here annually. I could tell you that no one could keep track of it all, and * 269 *

RADCLY fFE that would be the truth." She lifted the stack of papers and let it fall to the table in front of them with a thump. "If there's evidence in here that large-scale-no, scratch that-if any kind of smuggling is going on at this port under my watch, I want to know about it. And if it is, it's not happening without inside help." Her chocolate eyes grew even darker with fury. "I want to see the son of a b.i.t.c.h who's been using my turf like his own personal playground strung up by his b.a.l.l.s."

"Now that's my kind of police," Watts said with a happy smile.

"The shift lists will need to be cross-referenced, drivers checked, a lot of background info run-Lieutenant Frye says she's sending over a computer expert to sort through it and nail down how the transfers are being made."

"That would be Sloan," Watts said. "If anyone can put it together, she can. She'll need a secure place to work because we don't want to tip our hand."

"She can use my of ce." Carla stood. "Let me take a quick tour around the docks before she arrives. a.s.suming we get a chance for lunch, I'm buying."

"Nah, let me get it." Watts cleared his throat. "I, uh...like working with you."

"Good. Same here." As she reached the door, she looked back.

"But lunch is off the clock. And on me this time."

Watts stared after her, grinning, and was still grinning when Sloan walked in a few minutes later.

"Please tell me what there is to be happy about," Sloan said by way of greeting.

"I nally ran into a woman on this job who likes guys with real d.i.c.ks."

"Yeah?" Sloan's attention was already riveted on the computer on Reiser's desk, and she headed for it. As she settled into the captain's swivel chair, she muttered offhandedly, "Rumor has it there's one or two of them still left around."

Watts picked up the shipping manifests and schedules, his smile still in place. "It only takes one."

Thinking of Michael, Sloan nodded, her ngers already racing over the keyboard. "As long as it's the right one."

* 270 *

Justice Served Monday, 1:00 p.m., Sloan Security Of ces Mitch.e.l.l rested her hands lightly on Sandy's shoulders and bent down to kiss her cheek. "How's it going?"

Sandy tilted her head back and sighed. "We're almost done."

"We picked up the rst one that Trudy did," Jason informed her.

"You should take a look at the one right before it."

"Why?"

Wordlessly, Jason scanned the disk and, nding the le he wanted, played the image. Mitch.e.l.l hunkered down next to Sandy, resting her hand on her girlfriend's knee as she stared at the monitor. The setting was generic-a nondescript bedroom, very little in the way of decoration, harsh studio lighting. Two naked women and a man lay tangled together on rumpled sheets. As she watched, Mitch.e.l.l saw the two women get to their knees and then straddle the man. While facing each other, one lowered herself onto his erect p.e.n.i.s and the other settled over his face. Then, they leaned toward one another and kissed. The woman who rocked rhythmically above his mouth was Irina.

"f.u.c.k," Mitch.e.l.l said.

"Looks like she came up through the ranks," Jason remarked.

"Probably supervising the girls looks like a lot better job to her than this did."

"Is that her?" Sandy asked quietly. She looked at Mitch.e.l.l. "The one you're hooked up with?"

Mitch.e.l.l didn't see any point in correcting her terminology. "Yeah.

That's her."

Sandy narrowed her eyes and studied the images. "Nice body."

"Turn it off, Jason, will you," Mitch.e.l.l said curtly. She took a breath, struggling to clear her head, but the anger kept pushing back.

"Can we use this somehow?"

"I don't know," Jason said. "Maybe. It's more circ.u.mstantial evidence to tie the girls at Ziggie's to the p.o.r.n ring. By itself, it probably doesn't mean much. But it's one more piece of the puzzle."