Friction. Part 14

"Fifty bucks upfront." E.J. peeled off the bills from an impressive roll of cash that had the little man practically salivating. It took so little to impress such people.

"I need room eighteen." He smiled conspiratorially. "My lucky number."

"Right. My lucky number is twenty." E.J. peeled off another twenty, waving it in front of the man's beady eyes. He shrugged, handing him the key to room eighteen.

"Your money, pal." He looked over E.J.'s shoulder to where Sarah lounged against the doorjamb looking impatient and Ian leered at her convincingly. "Don't pull a muscle-she looks like a wild one."

"You can only imagine."

Within a few minutes they were in room eighteen, and though they searched the place thoroughly, there was no sign Logan had been there. Sarah turned to E.J. and couldn't help grinning.

"You make a convincing dirtbag when you work at it. Do you come to these places often?"

"Please, Sarah, you insult me. I only take women to the best hotels."

He looked down at the tacky clothes he'd picked up from the station's lost and found-he didn't really want to think too much about where they had come from-and ran a hand over his thick, sandy hair now slicked back with hair grease. None of the women he dated would touch him with a ten-foot pole looking like this.

"Will this stuff ever come out?"

"Sure. Just don't go for a swim or the EPA will be after you."

Ian glared at them, ceasing the teasing with an intense look in Sarah's direction-Ian was almost always intense.

"You sure you can do this? We won't have much time."

"You're kidding, right? Of course I can do it. All I have to do is hook into their PBX, find the numbers he called, if any, and we can do a reverse lookup back at the office. Piece of cake."

She pulled off her leather jacket, tossed her shoes away and stripped down to her bra and short skirt without blinking an eye. It was only Ian and E.J., after all. She smudged her lipstick with her fist and mussed her hair, leveling them a look.

"Uh, think maybe you should join me, here?" E.J. wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously. "G.o.d, I love it when you go all Brooklyn."

They quickly stripped down to basics as well, and Sarah took a deep breath, grabbing a sheet while the guys did their part, wrecking the bed and breaking a lamp, and then turned to each other. E.J. smiled. "All in good fun. Remember, stay away from the face. I have a date tonight."

Sarah took a deep breath, wrapping the sheet around her as she went for the door, flinging it open, another crash sounding behind her as the guys did their part. She took off at a run for the office and burst in the door, yelling at the top of her lungs for help. A couple was signing in at the desk and stared at her wide-eyed. The scrawny man from behind darted out to face her.

"What the h.e.l.l? What are you doing?"

Sarah gulped breaths, doing her best imitation of being panicked, and poured it on. Grabbing his shoulders, she let the sheet slip a little and watched his eyes dip, the worm.

"You gotta get up there, they're wreckin' the place, they're gonna kill each other!"

The smarmy desk clerk looked at her in confusion, then seemed to remember she'd come in with two men-she imagined short-term memory loss was an advantage in his line of work. Grabbing his shoulders, she pushed him toward the door.

"Go! I'll call the police! You aren't going to have a room left by the time they get done."

"d.a.m.n losers, come in a place and wreck it-I shoulda known when I saw you." He dove behind the desk, emerging with a baseball bat, and tipped it in Sarah's direction. "I knew you you would cause trouble. Could tell the minute I saw you." would cause trouble. Could tell the minute I saw you."

The other couple had already hightailed it out the door, and the worm followed behind. Sarah screamed at him about it not being her fault as she watched him go and then hurried behind the sign-in desk to the computer.

"s.h.i.+t. Pa.s.sworded." She didn't have time to try to figure it out, but had a hunch and lifted the keyboard, then searched behind the monitor, and finally under the TV. Nothing. But the sleazeball obviously had a hard time remembering his own name, so he had to have it here somewhere.

Taking out a slim drawer in the center of the beat-up desk, she saw a small, ragged piece of paper with a nasty acronym and what was probably his PIN number. She shook her head.

"Dumber than I even thought."

She punched in the acronym, the screen freed and she wiggled gleefully in the chair, her fingers firing over the keys like a machine gun as she accessed the information they needed. Within minutes, she had the numbers-two calls had come from room eighteen last night.

She hurriedly wrote down the numbers and shut down the screen as she heard hollers and cursing just before the clerk burst through the door again, Ian and E.J. right behind him. He spotted Sarah.

"Hey, what are you doing back there? Get out of there!"

She let her head sag to the side. "I was calling the cops, moron. I couldn't reach the phone from back there."

He held the bat threateningly toward Ian and E.J., and Sarah almost smiled. Her friends were under no threat at all from the little man-either of them could put that bat where the sun didn't s.h.i.+ne within a hot second if they wanted to.

"You two done fighting over me now? Maybe we can get down to having a little fun." She walked up to E.J. and dragged her finger down his chest. "Now that you're all worked up."

"You bet, baby." E.J. caught her by the waist and drew her close, winking at Ian. But the little man was having none of it.

"No way, you guys are freakin' crazy. The cops will be here, and you're paying for that room. I'm pressing charges!"

Of course, there were no cops coming. But he didn't know that.

E.J. loosened Sarah's hold and reached for his wallet again, bending his head down to talk with the clerk in a whisper. "Listen, I can't afford another arrest, okay? How about I pay you for the damage, let my girl get her clothes, and we'll take this party elsewhere?"

The clerk's beady eyes reflected his indecision as he looked at Sarah again, now draped over Ian, but then he caught view of E.J.'s wad of cash. He backed off, putting down the bat.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever. Give me the cash and get the h.e.l.l out of here."

BACK AT THE OFFICE, it didn't take Sarah long to do a reverse lookup on the phone numbers. She was even more motivated to work fast because she was still wearing the hooker skirt she'd worn to the motel and it kept riding up far higher than she was comfortable with.

"Okay. I got it. He called Starline Cruises. Twice."

"That's a gaming cruise service. They run short trips, out past the legal boundaries, where state and federal gambling laws don't apply."

"That's legal?"

"Gambling is a big part of southern history-think of the Mississippi riverboats-and in this case, they don't gamble until they're far out on the water. So it's a loophole, but it works. There's a lot of it along the coast, some legit, some a cover for other operations."

Sarah sat silently for a minute, then snapped up straight in her chair, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together.

"Yes, that's it! I remember now, when I was arguing with Logan, he said something about how jurisdiction didn't matter. That's gotta mean he's out on one of those boats."

"Give me the number," Ian said.

Sarah and E.J. waited while Ian called, and he turned back to them as he hung up.

"He couldn't have made any trips today. The next one is tomorrow morning. He may be on that one. It's the next one out."

"I'm going." Sarah was adamant, and her partners looked at her curiously.

"Okay. But you're going in wired. You get in, see what he's up to, and let us know if you find anything. You'll be under constant surveillance," Ian said.

Sarah shook her head. "A transmitter's too risky."

Ian grinned like a kid. "Not the one I can get for you to use. Give me a few hours. Call and book yourself on tomorrow morning's boat."

Ian loved new toys, and she knew he was always keeping up with the latest in surveillance equipment. With his connections Ian often got his hands on things that few police departments could afford. He left E.J. and Sarah together and she reached for the phone, eager to get going.

It took her less than five minutes to make the arrangements for the cruise. Hanging up, she caught E.J.'s stare as he lay back in his chair, legs stretched out, his arms crossed over his chest, pulling the material of his suit a little tight at the shoulder. E.J. always wore suits to work. Expensive suits.

"What?"

"How did you find out about what Logan was up to? Doesn't sound like he was exactly forthcoming, and he obviously doesn't want our help."

Sarah closed her eyes and sat back in her own chair.

"He had some pictures. They fell out of an envelope when I accidentally knocked it off the table in his room. They were p.o.r.n, and I nailed him, thinking he was either a consumer or a producer. He told me then why he had them. The rest is history. I told Ian, didn't he fill you in?"

"Why were you in his room?"

"What are you, my father?"

"Do I look like your father?"

"Maybe, thirty years ago. Especially around the eyes."

"You are such a smarta.s.s. So, you're involved with this guy?"

"E.J.-" Her address took on a warning tone, but he interrupted again, leaning forward.

"I'm just wondering. I'm concerned. You get a strange look about you when you say his name. When you talk about him. Not a look I've seen before."

"G.o.d, have you been watching Dr. Phil? Dr. Phil? I get a I get a look? look?" She pursed her lips, repressing a grin. "Or are you just jealous?"

He rolled his eyes at her and she knew she wouldn't get him off the scent until she told him something. Once E.J. honed in on something, he rarely let go until he was satisfied. She threw her hands up.

"Okay, fine. I was in his room because, yeah, we had a little fling. That's all."

"Then it's over?"

"There wasn't any 'it' to be over. It was just a...thing." Her voice was flat and convincing, but it didn't stop the little dull ache the lie brought with it.

"I think it was more than a fling. You don't do flings."

"Why? Just because I didn't 'fling' with you?" She sat back, feeling p.i.s.sed. E.J. had made a move on her shortly after he'd broken up with his fiancee. They'd just finished a case, she was a part of the team and they'd gone out for a beer together. He'd asked her if she'd be interested, and though she knew he wasn't looking for anything serious, she'd said no. Emphatically. She'd had no interest in getting involved with anyone, especially not someone she worked so closely with.

"Man, you get nasty when someone hits a nerve. But no, not because of that. Because I've never even seen you on a date. And now you're in this guy's room."

"Yeah, well, shows what you know. You have no idea what I do in my free time." She was fussing with things on her desk, wanting to escape, when she felt E.J.'s hand on her arm.

"Sarah, if this guy means something to you-if there are complications-it could make the job dangerous. You know that. That's the professional reason I asked. The personal one is that I do know you, and I know that whatever happened out there, it's changed things for you, hasn't it?"

She acknowledged his question with a curt nod, but avoided eye contact. E.J. turned her around, made her meet his eyes. She hoped he couldn't see any more than she wanted him to, though somehow, he always did.

"Maybe you shouldn't be doing this."

"No, I am absolutely the one who should be doing this." She grimaced. Didn't anyone think she was capable of doing her job these days?

"I'll be fine. You and Ian will be hooked in the whole time. It's just reconnaissance, anyway. There won't be any action."

"You never know, Sarah. You know that."

"Okay, fine. Are you done poking around in my business now?"

E.J. leaned in to kiss her on her cheek. He was never put off, no matter how p.r.i.c.kly she got. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

"You just be careful."

"I plan on it."

LOGAN MADE the tail before they could really know what he was up to, but it burned his a.s.s anyway. He'd shaken it by slipping out of the motel through a back exit he'd located, and drank coffee for the three hours he had to waste until he caught a taxi to the docks. It wasn't like he was born yesterday. the tail before they could really know what he was up to, but it burned his a.s.s anyway. He'd shaken it by slipping out of the motel through a back exit he'd located, and drank coffee for the three hours he had to waste until he caught a taxi to the docks. It wasn't like he was born yesterday.

Not only had Sarah gone over his head and reported his case to her superiors, but apparently they'd decided they were going to horn in on the case whether he cooperated or not. In the s.p.a.ce of a day they'd gone from lovers to adversaries.

He was most definitely not cooperating. He had a good lead on them, and he'd used a fake ID to sign up for the cruise. As far as any of the ledgers showed, Karl MacKenzie was headed off for blissful two days of gambling at sea. He took just one bag with him, and most of the contents of his bank account. He didn't count on actually gaming all that much, but he had to appear like the genuine article, and that meant emptying his paltry savings to bring on the boat.

One phone call was all it had taken to find out which s.h.i.+p Mel had been on. He'd gotten the right person on the phone. She sounded young, and he'd put on his cop voice and asked for the information-which she never should have offered-but in two minutes he knew what he needed to know. One more call had him on board the same boat.

Reaching the boarding dock, he took in the s.h.i.+ning sides of the sleek, white yacht. Its name, The Gem, The Gem, was painted in gold-and-black script on the stern. Small satellite dishes were placed at inconspicuous angles, and video cameras were everywhere. State-of-the-art security electronics, no doubt. And a sizable vault. was painted in gold-and-black script on the stern. Small satellite dishes were placed at inconspicuous angles, and video cameras were everywhere. State-of-the-art security electronics, no doubt. And a sizable vault.

He walked forward and was greeted cheerfully by an older man dressed in a very expensive suit. Vince Valente, the boat's owner, most likely. He was then directed to a friendly young staff member who welcomed him aboard and offered to take his bag. Logan declined. He was directed toward his cabin, and Logan muttered his thanks, finding his own way.

It was a small boat, only accommodating up to a hundred pa.s.sengers at any one time, but it was the top of the line in luxury and style. A very cla.s.sy operation, at least on the surface. He wanted to find proof of what might be going on here under the glitz and gloss. And he had to work quickly. He'd only been able to afford the overnight package, and who knew if Sarah was on to him by now.

Walking down the narrow pa.s.sageway, he skimmed past the ornate crystal hurricane lamps on the bulkheads and the artwork on the walls. He found his cabin number, slid his key card into the slot, and entered. It was a small cabin, smaller than your average hotel room but more luxuriously appointed. The bed was a double and took up most of the s.p.a.ce. No television, no phone, no computer connections-no way for anyone to pa.s.s the time except for sleeping or gambling. He looked at the soft bed, and his thoughts went back to Sarah.

He knew she wouldn't give up. And part of him admired her for it, while the other part couldn't accept that she wanted to place herself in harm's way just to help him, or even to make peace with her painful past. He couldn't live with being party to putting her in danger.

He had nothing against women cops-Mel had been one of the best-but he hadn't been intimate with Mel. He hadn't cared for her in the same way. It hurt bad enough to have lost a friend, and Sarah promised to be much more than a friend. When she'd walked out of his room he'd nearly called her back, but he had nothing to say. He wasn't about to change his mind.