AtHerCommand (12 page)

Calvin’s petite wife had been a foot shorter than him, a
doll he’d wanted to protect against the world. But the crown of Suzi’s head
brushed his chin. Looking down into her exotic face, he scanned her onyx eyes
before being drawn to her pale pink mouth. As he watched, she took a shaky
breath through parted lips.
What would she taste like?

The scent of jasmine suffused the room, and candlelight
bathed them with a warm glow. In an unconscious gesture, Calvin lifted his left
hand to brush her jet-black hair from her face. Suzi trembled as he ran his
fingers down her cheek, over her satiny skin and across her full lips.
Strong
but so soft.
He lowered his head to replace his fingers with his mouth.

The paler band of skin on his left ring finger gleamed in
accusation.

Jerking back, Calvin shook his head to clear it. He’d almost
kissed another woman. He’d
never
cheated on Pam. As if burned, he
released Suzi so fast she almost fell again.

“I’m sorry.” He got the words out before turning away and
leaving the room. The memory of Suzi’s wide, hurt eyes followed him all the way
to his car.

* * * * *

It was close to midnight when Suzi unlocked the front door
to her apartment. She barely remembered the drive from the club to her eclectic
Adams Morgan community. Thanks to the abundance of popular ethnic restaurants
in her D.C. neighborhood, she’d been forced to park several blocks from her
building. The brisk walk hadn’t cleared her head however, and her mind was
still replaying the memory of her near kiss with Calvin.

Opening the door, she walked into her apartment, closed the
door behind her and threw the deadbolt. Out of habit, she dropped her keys into
the outstretched hands of the stone garden gnome that served as a foyer table.
A friend had once described Suzi’s decorating as “flea market chic”, but
tonight her colorful hodge-podge of treasures failed to make her smile.

Turning left, she walked into her kitchen and snapped on the
overhead fluorescent light. The soft glow reflected off the stainless steel
appliances that complemented her retro red and silver décor. Seated at her
1950s Formica and chrome kitchen table was the inflatable male doll Lotty had
given her during her masseuse-in-training session. Suzi had dressed the
anatomically correct doll in a pair of old sweats but his hard plastic johnson
tented the jersey material.

“Well, at least you’re happy to see me,” Suzi grumbled as
she opened her fridge. After a cursory examination of its paltry contents, she
chose a tropical fruit drink. Twisting off the lid and flipping it into the
steel trash can in the corner, she sat down across from her lifeless roommate.

“And how was your day, Dick?” she asked the doll in a sweet,
singsong voice. When Suzi had named the inflatable man, the multi-use nickname
for “Richard” had seemed an obvious choice. “Nothing to report? Well, why don’t
I tell you about my day then?”

Suzi took a long swig of the juice drink and settled back in
her seat. Dick’s frozen smile seemed encouraging.

“Well, a number of interesting clients came by for massages,
including a judge who would have recognized me from that homicide case last
fall if he’d bothered to look any higher than my breasts.”

Suzi paused to take another swallow of the sweet liquid
before continuing. Dick, like a good listener, remained silent.

“Then I did a little snooping around the club and found out
a few things I need to tell Bull.” She glanced at the Elvis wall clock and
wondered if Dalton were still awake. “Oh and then my favorite customer arrived,
the one I told you about.”

Suzi thought about the session with Calvin, from her
choosing the jasmine spray to their argument and unintentional embrace. The man
attracted her and touched her heart. She’d deliberately used deep-muscle
massage hoping to loosen his tongue and reduce his inhibitions. What right did
she have to ask him about his wife, much less pressure him to move on with his
life?

Groaning, bone-tired and filled with self-disgust, Suzi lay
her forehead on the table’s cool Formica. Wouldn’t her parents be proud if they
knew she was hitting on a troubled widower in what amounted to a high-priced
massage parlor?

She sat up straight and chugged the rest of the fruit juice.
Setting the bottle down with a decisive clink, Suzi met Dick’s doll-vacant eyes
across the table.

“When Jason’s killers are behind bars, I’m booking a
vacation at one of those singles’ resorts in the Caribbean,” she said. “I’d let
the air out of you and take you with me, but those airport baggage checks are
just a little too thorough these days.” To her tired gaze, it seemed as if
Dick’s perennially happy expression dimmed. “But I’ll send you a postcard.”

Yep, she was going on a much-needed vacation. For two weeks,
she’d lounge on the beach, sipping rum drinks delivered by muscular,
mocha-skinned islanders with charcoal eyes and mile-wide smiles. But when she
tried to imagine the scene, it was Calvin she saw in a tropical print shirt and
khaki shorts.

The shrill ringing of her cell phone made Suzi jump.
Snatching the phone out of her pocket, she answered with a breathless, “Hello?”

“Suzi? Did I wake you?” Dalton sounded concerned.

“No, no, just a long day,” she reassured him.

“Listen, it’s late. Why don’t we talk tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she agreed. Sunday was her day off and she had some
things to discuss with Dalton. “Want to meet for lunch?”

“Okay. How about Goldy’s at noon?”

She knew the popular Maryland deli would be hopping on a
Sunday and they’d blend in with the crowd. “Goldy’s would be great. And, Bull,
try to sleep in, okay? You sound a little ragged.”

“Sure, Mom,” he teased, but she could hear the fatigue in
his voice. “You too.”

Suzi’s mouth quirked as she disconnected. She might be a
loser in the romance department but she definitely had some good friends.
Pushing back her chair, she stood and looked at the doll that shared her
kitchen. “Sorry, Dick. You might be built for speed—several variable speeds,
according to your instruction booklet—but I’m saving myself for the real
thing.”

Turning off the kitchen light, she headed for her bedroom.
Hopefully she’d sleep so deeply she’d stop reliving her client’s aborted kiss
like some lovestruck adolescent. There’d be time for a rich fantasy life and
maybe even a flesh and blood man after they caught Jason’s killers. But try as
she might, Suzi couldn’t help hoping that man would be Calvin.

Chapter Twelve

February 16
^th
Lunch Special—Meatloaf, mashed
potatoes with gravy, and peas. $7.95.

Dalton stood considering the chalkboard near the front door
of Goldy’s Deli, a cheery place filled with the scents of good cooking. Comfort
food. That’s what health nuts called this kind of cuisine. Cholesterol- and
fat-filled dishes designed to remind customers of their childhoods, happy
family dinners and their moms baking cookies. The closest he’d gotten to those
homey times had been watching
Happy Days
on an old black and white TV.
When he was a kid and dinnertime rolled around, Dalton had counted himself
lucky if his mom had stopped drinking long enough to call pizza delivery.

Stifling a yawn, or was it a sigh, he walked to the deli
counter to order a corned beef on rye. But once there, Dalton asked for the
special with gravy on the side. Shaking his head at his lack of impulse
control, he paid the cashier, took his ticket and moved to the corner table
where Suzi waited.

“Detective Cutter,” she said. “Long time, no see.”

Dalton took the chair across from the smart-mouthed
detective and shrugged out of his leather jacket. “You know, I don’t think I
ate out with my last girlfriend as much as I do with you,” he said only half
joking.

“That’s because you never left the bedroom,” Suzi shot back.
“You’ve got a reputation for skipping all the boring parts of a relationship
like dating and dinners out.”

“Number fifty-seven,” the deli cashier called.

“That’s me.” Suzi headed for the pick-up counter.

Dalton stared after her, thinking about her comment. Had all
of his recent relationships been about sex? His latest girlfriend Kimmi, the
Channel 4 reporter, had been a blast until she’d gotten clingy. Then there’d
been Vicky, the realtor who’d burned up his sheets until she’d pressured him to
meet her parents. Before her had been Becca, no, Cheri… Hell, he’d had a string
of enthusiastic, inventive lovers in the past few years but they’d all been sex
partners not girlfriends. Dalton had ensured they didn’t become too attached.
And now he had trouble even remembering their faces.

Suzi returned and placed a tray on the table. Dalton almost
smiled at the plate loaded with meatloaf, peas and a volcano of mashed potatoes
with gravy. It looked as if he wasn’t the only one in need of comfort food.
Suzi dropped into her chair and picked up her fork.

“Mind if I don’t wait for you?” she asked. “I’m starving.”

“Dig in,” Dalton encouraged. “I’m sure all that hands-on
work at the club builds an appetite.”

“Bite me,” she mumbled with a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

He watched her eat for a moment and then asked, “What you
said about my not doing the dating stuff, did you mean it?”

Suzi eyed him as she took a sip of her soda, apparently
thinking of a way to phrase her answer diplomatically. “You don’t seem to be
looking for a serious relationship. It’s as if you pick a girl for her looks
alone and never scratch below the surface.”

Dalton knew it was true but it was still hard to hear. “I
don’t have the best track record with women,” he ground out, hating the
defensive edge to his voice.

Suzi hesitated and then met his eyes. “I know about Alicia.
I never met her but Jason told me how she broke off your engagement just weeks
before the wedding.”

Dalton gritted his teeth in frustration. Would he ever live
down that miserable time? “Did Jason also tell you she was screwing her boss at
the law firm?” He spit out the words, still bitter after five years. “How she
said his financial portfolio looked more promising in the long run than a
cop’s?”

Instead of recoiling, Suzi leaned forward and spoke with a
force that surprised him. “Okay, Alicia betrayed you. And if she were here, I’d
pistol-whip her for you. But when are you going to stop letting her fuck with
your life?”

Dalton sat back, speechless.

“Every time you meet a new woman and keep her at an
emotional arm’s length, Alicia wins,” Suzi continued. “Do you want to go
through life alone, going from one fling to another?”

“Gee, Cho, tell me how you really feel,” Dalton said, but
the sarcasm was forced. She had a point, but one he couldn’t examine right now.
Maybe after they solved Jason’s murder…

Suzi’s shoulders slumped. “Sorry, I seem to be making a
habit out of telling everyone what to do these days.” She pushed some of the
peas around on her plate, looking dejected. “Last night, I told a widower
customer of mine that he needed to get on with his life. He stormed out of the
massage.”

Dalton doubted what was bothering Suzi was just a pissed-off
customer. Before he could ask her however, the deli cashier called his number.
He rose and went to retrieve his lunch special. When he returned, Suzi had her
cop face on.

“I don’t have much time,” she said. “Let’s discuss the
case.”

Dalton nodded, deciding to quiz Suzi later if she still
seemed upset. This case could depress anyone but he wanted to make sure she
wasn’t in over her head at the club.

He took a bite of the delicious mashed potatoes and savored
the flavor. Then he chowed down on the meatloaf as Suzi pulled a steno pad from
her bag and flipped through several pages. Dalton was an expert at reading
upside down, a valued skill for a cop, but Suzi took notes in Korean. Even if
the club’s killers found the notebook, they’d need a translator to read it.

“Captain Bennett had some interesting news this morning.”
Suzi caught his attention with those words. “According to a friend of his on
the New York force, our local DEA office has shown a lot of interest in the
Cabazone family recently.”

“No kidding.” Dalton set down his fork.

“They’ve requested copies of phone tap transcripts.” Suzi
looked up from her notes with a grim smile.

“What a coincidence.” He experienced the excitement he
always felt when a lead panned out.

“Yep, the captain thought so too,” she said. “That’s why
he’s also put in a request for the transcripts. Hopefully, his friend can
facilitate the red tape on this one.”

“While the department’s chasing down that angle, why don’t I
tail some of the club’s movers and shakers?” Dalton asked.

She considered for a moment. “I’ve checked out a lot of the
employees, you know. Some are slimeballs, but I think the only one person worth
tailing right now is Clyde Salvi.”

“The club manager?”

“Yeah. He’s one cold son of a bitch.” Suzi shuddered. “And watch
out for his Doberman. It’s almost as nasty as he is.”

Suzi slipped a folded piece of paper out of her purse and
passed it across the table to Dalton. “Here’s his rap sheet—mostly petty shit
while he was a kid. And I wrote his current address on the back.”

Dalton turned over the rap sheet to see the address. “This
is off Connecticut Avenue near the Washington Cathedral.”

Suzi nodded. “Just a few blocks from that drug-related,
double homicide you were working last weekend.”

He looked at her face, shining with the thrill of the hunt.
“Another coincidence.”

“Yeah. Amazing, isn’t it?” She smiled her first real smile
since he’d arrived at the deli.

“We’re going to get these bastards.” Dalton slipped the rap
sheet into his jacket pocket. “I’ll start tailing Salvi tonight.”

In unison, they plunged into their lunches. Dalton felt
anticipation spurring his appetite. Soon, very soon, he was going to get these
cop killers. Then finally, he’d be able to keep his promise to himself to
avenge Jason.

* * * * *

Domino opened the door leading from the employee parking lot
to the club and casually glanced down the hallway before crossing the
threshold. A quick pat on her thigh brought Smokey to heel. When the tiny dog
was inside, she closed the steel door against the February chill.
Damn,
another waste of time.

On the excuse of taking the dog for a potty break, Dom had
walked Smokey down the rows of parked cars. Unfortunately, the drug-sniffing
pooch hadn’t uncovered any trunks filled with heroin or hubcaps stuffed with
cocaine. The only time Smokey had performed his pointed-paw routine was next to
Ellen’s car. And Domino already knew her coworker smoked dope. Still, the
parking lot was accessible and Dom had to use her canine partner to sweep as
much of the club’s property as she could.

Smokey sneezed and Dom watched the black-sweatered dog shake
melting snowflakes off his feathery head and tail fur. Fishing for some tissues
in her coat pocket, she bent down and quickly dried off the dog before feeding
him one of the dog treats she’d brought from home. If Smokey caught a cold, his
special olfactory talents would be useless. Besides, the silly thing was
growing on her and she didn’t want him to get sick.

Straightening, she patted her thigh again and Smokey fell in
step. Heading down the hall to the right, Domino peered inside the first open
room. Having memorized the club’s layout, she knew this was a hot tub room but
the décor surprised her. The ceiling, walls and floor resembled a grotto and
fragrant rainforest plants thrived in the steam from the sunken hot tub. For
customers with a tropical fantasy, this would be a hit.

In one corner of the room, manmade vines hung from the
ceiling, cleverly designed to serve as a love swing. From her research, Dom
knew such a swing took gravity out of the sexual equation. An occupant could
lean back in the webbing, letting the swing hold his or her weight and be open
to all sorts of pleasure. In addition, the swing could be raised or lowered
depending on the sex act being performed. It was one of the few props in the
club Domino was tempted to try. Of course, she’d have to find the right sexual
partner first. With a sigh, she focused again on the investigation.

“Smokey.” Dom spoke the dog’s name quietly to get his
attention then made the subtle hand gesture signaling him to make a sweep. The
dog circled the room with methodical care, examining everything within his
reach. After a few minutes, Smokey returned to her and waited for his next
instruction. She slipped him a small doggy treat and led him down the hallway.

This evening at home, she would add the results of this
search to her highlighted blueprint of the club. Hopefully, she’d be able to do
a sweep of all the rooms within the next week. The trick was finding a time
when they were unoccupied.

She walked past S&M Room Five with Smokey at her side.
The next open door was a massage room. Suzi, the new masseuse, was readying the
room for her next client.

“How’s it going?” Dom asked.

The attractive Korean woman looked up from her rack of scented
aromatherapy oils and smiled. “Pretty good. I think I’m finally getting a grip
on the job.”

Domino groaned at the pun, prompting a laugh from Suzi.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” the masseuse said. “C’mon in if
you have time and keep me company. I just heard my four o’clock is running
late.”

Domino entered the room and Suzi noticed the dog for the
first time. “What’s this?” She came forward to pet Smokey. “A mouse on
steroids? Please don’t tell me one of your customers wants animals in his
session.”

“I’m watching my sister’s Chinese Crested hairless dog for a
couple weeks,” Dom explained. “I wouldn’t subject him to
my
clients.
Besides, the club draws the line at using live animals.”

“Oh but it’s okay to make a twenty-person Dagwood sandwich
in the mattress rooms,” Suzi joked.

“Sure, those are consenting, if perverted, adults.”

Domino and Suzi smiled in recognition of another sane human
in a surrealistic world. Dom had felt an instant rapport when she’d first met
the irreverent masseuse and was sorry she couldn’t be aboveboard with Suzi.
When the woman turned to place several bottles of massage oil back on the
shelves, Domino gave Smokey the hand gesture to begin his search.

“My first appointment is at five.” Dom examined the New Age
CDs stacked next to the room’s sound system. “So I’ve got some time to kill.”

“Gonna polish your thumb-screws and oil up your whips?”

Dom laughed but out of the corner of her eye, she watched
Smokey make an uneventful circuit of the room. The masseuse wasn’t storing
drugs in her workplace, thank goodness. Domino was glad to mark the woman off
her suspect list.

“No, I leave those types of chores to the housekeeping
staff,” Dom said, telling the truth. “My five o’clock is one of my ‘school boy
in need of discipline’ customers. Nothing too shocking. If you want to see some
real kinks, watch a couple of Ellen’s or Angi’s sessions.”

Suzi shuddered and made a face. “I did. The first week I was
here, I checked out some of the other rooms. I can’t believe the things people
do for sexual gratification.”

“Abstinence isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either.”

The two again shared a look of amused understanding. Due to
Domino’s heavy workload of undercover assignments, she didn’t have a lot of
girlfriends. And she missed the easy camaraderie she witnessed between women
outside of the agency. It figures she would hit it off with Suzi, who’d be a
memory as soon as Dom was off on her next job.

Smokey returned to her side and looked up at Domino with
soulful, dawn eyes. Slipping a treat the size of a breath mint out of her
pocket, she fed it to the appreciative dog.

“I’d better let you get ready,” Dom said. “See you around.”

“Say ‘Hi’ to Mistress Bella for me,” Suzi called after her
as Dom walked out of the room.

Laughing, Domino shook her head. Suzi had commented the day
they’d met how different she appeared in her dominatrix duds compared to her
street clothes. And today, with her worn jeans and cable-knit sweater, Dom
looked nothing like the stiletto-heeled Mistress Bella. Unbidden, Dalton
flashed into her mind. Would her intriguing customer be attracted to her in
these everyday clothes? Domino pushed aside the thought.