Stay with Me (The WITSEC series Book 1) Page 10

  How could he have missed it? Kane had only been out of the detective game for ten months. Ten months! It wasn’t like he’d been out of law enforcement during that time either. With the ATF, he and his team had cracked a few big cases. They’d put some seriously dangerous terrorists behind bars on the last one and yet, he’d obviously lost his mind if he hadn’t been able to see Luca Price for what he truly was—a whore.

  Worst of all, Kane had come to Barcelona looking to see if he could be attracted to a guy or if his reaction to Luca was an anomaly of some sort. Every time he’d seen the beautiful young man, he’d grown more and more confused with his own reaction to the guy. At thirty-two, Kane thought he knew who he was and what he wanted. He loved fucking women. He loved waking up in a bed with soft curves against his body. He’d always planned on surprising his girl with hearts and flowers and romantic vacations. He planned on getting married, even having kids one day, raising them and building the happy family he’d been robbed of. He’d even dreamed of a house in the suburbs. He’d planned on having a fucking dog and for shit’s sake, he’d planned on becoming a grandparent with the woman he loved.

  As the men pulled apart, Kane set his glass down and strode to the stairs, heading down to the dance floor. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he caught up to Slade Ruiz, but he was absolutely certain he was going to make Luca Price pay for making him question everything about himself and his future. By the time he got to the middle of the dance floor where Luca was standing all alone, his fury had him seeing through a red haze. Price seemed even smaller than he remembered when Kane had seen him on previous occasions at the jewelry store and at his office.

  Damnit!

  When he remembered how Kelly had smiled at Luca, not knowing who he really was—this other side of the rent boy, it angered him even more. Luca’s eyes widened as soon as he spotted him. He stared at Kane walking toward him and then offered a faint quizzical smile, cocking his head like one of Kane’s ferrets would.

  “What are you doing here, Detective?”

  Kane reached out and grabbed Luca by the bicep and yanked him toward the exit, ignoring his howl of protest as he pulled him along effortlessly. He wanted him outside and away from the pulsating crowd of bodies and thumping beat of music where he could talk to him. He had every intention of telling Luca he knew exactly what he was. When they got outside, he pulled him down the street away from the milling crowd where they could talk to each other in relative privacy.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Luca shouted as they stopped, yanking his arm free of Kane’s grasp when he finally spun to face him.

  “What am I doing? What were you doing meeting up with that pimp in the middle of the club? Getting the name of your next trick?” Kane swept him up and down with a deeply insulting gaze. He was still angry that he’d been so easily fooled by Luca’s sweet demeanor and inherent beauty that had seemed to radiate from within. Then and there, Kane decided Luca truly was a world-class con artist. When the man frowned in indignation, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive stance, Kane wanted to laugh. He refrained, opting for intimidation. Those tactics always worked.

  “What the hell are you talking about? I met up with some friends for a birthday party. You were there when I got the call at your station. I had the call on speaker… or did you forget that entirely? Don’t pretend you didn’t sneer at me when my friend said gurrrrrl?”

  In his fury at spotting Luca on the dance floor in the arms of an infamous San Diego pimp, Kane had forgotten Luca’s phone call while they’d been standing in the lobby of the Brentwood police station. Not only that, now that he thought about it, coming down to assist in a police investigation didn’t fit the MO of a criminal, not to mention the very fact that his employer would have required him to pass a background check for the diamonds he handled. That investigation alone would have ruled out any criminal activity in the man’s past. Kane swallowed hard as he stared at the angry flush on Luca’s lovely face.

  “The man you were with. You know who he is, right?”

  Luca continued to frown but he shrugged. “He said his name was Slade. I just met him tonight, when he asked me to dance.” Luca narrowed his eyes and Kane finally noticed the black guy-liner he was wearing like the first time he’d ever seen him at Marty’s. He went on.

  “He’s a pimp.”

  Luca shrugged again. “What is that to me? I’m not gonna marry the guy. I just figured he was good for a hot fuck.”

  Kane felt anger rushing back as quickly as it had been draining away. “You’ve got to be kidding me! He’s a really bad guy, Luca. The kind of guy who turns young boys out onto the streets but only after they’re all used up from the kind of predators he tricks them out to. You think guys like that care if your pretty face stays pretty forever? If a man is willing to pay enough, Slade Ruiz is the kind of pimp that sells one of his boys for BDSM, blood play, or knife sports. When I worked down in San Diego, the vice detectives had an open case file on him that was so thick, they could paper a room with it. His boys turned up dead or strung out or in deviant porn flicks all the time.”

  Luca’s lower lip quivered and his eyes suddenly looked like saucers. “So, w—why didn’t you arrest him?” His voice shook with emotion.

  “I wasn’t a vice detective. I was in homicide so I didn’t have any direct contact with him. I do know the vice detectives were building a case over a year ago and they turned up the heat pretty high. Unfortunately, they just couldn’t tie him directly to any of the really gruesome stuff even though they knew he was behind it. They came damned close, though. In fact, the pressure they put on him may explain why he relocated to West Hollywood.” He stepped closer as he saw all the color drain out of Luca’s face. “He had you in his tractor beams tonight, Luca.”

  “I-I…” Luca put his hand over his mouth and Kane watched his eyes suddenly swim with tears as he stared back at him. When he slowly closed his eyes, and shook his head, Kane noticed the shiver that went through him. He’d scared him and the pang of regret in Kane’s heart told him he’d gone too far. He suddenly wondered what the hell had gotten him so riled up. Of all the conflicting emotions he’d had that day, one thing was clear. The urge to both protect and strangle Luca Price at the same time was making him crazy.

  “Shit,” he said. “Come here, Luca.”

  Kane reached out and pulled Luca into his embrace, crushing him with both arms as he lay his cheek on the top of Luca’s head. The young man was trembling, and as he melted against his chest, the overwhelming urge to shelter Luca rose up in him. He desperately wanted to keep him safe and he had no idea why. Clearly the man was a happy and healthy gay man and Kane was anything but those things. Worst of all, he didn’t need a complication like Luca Price in his life. He had a job to do and he knew putting his father’s murderer and his mobbed-up son away for good, was where he had to concentrate all his energy.

  He’d examine his bizarre feelings for Luca later.

  Chapter Seven

  “Do you have undercover experience, Murphy?” Kane asked as they drove toward Lance and Shield, the Irish pub Brandon Moore owned in Hollywood, the next morning. She glanced over at him from behind the wheel of her Mini as she took the Sunset Boulevard exit off the 101 freeway.

  “Only once before. I was assigned to a vice sergeant when I was first hired on to the department almost ten years ago. The LA mayor was trying to clean up the streets so I was assigned to hit the streets on the stroll to bust johns in a particularly bad part of Hollywood, not far from where we are now.”

  Kane grinned. “You were a hooker?”

  Murphy grinned back. “Yeah, is that so hard to believe?”

  Kane let his gaze slide down the curvaceous form of his partner, noting how long her legs were. Currently, she had her curly red hair pulled back in a puffy ponytail that fell almost to her waist. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, or that she would
be extremely popular on the stroll… just like Luca would be if someone had to compare a male prostitute to a female.

  He frowned and put those thoughts right out of his head. Luca had been completely shaken when he’d told him about Slade Ruiz the night before, so shaken in fact that Kane had shoved him into a cab to take him home, not trusting him to be able to take the bus and make it home to the right neighborhood. He was still embarrassed about how he’d reacted to him and he blamed a lot of his behavior on himself. After all, he was the one who’d gone to Barcelona to test his own reaction to gay men. In fact the only gay man he had reacted to was Luca and even now, he was confused by what had happened. Why on earth had he treated him like that? Fear. He’d been terrified when he’d seen Luca in Slade Ruiz’s arms.

  “You’re frowning, Delancey. Is it so hard to believe I could be bait?”

  He glanced back at Murphy to see her eyes dancing with amusement and he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

  “No. I was just wondering how you thought you could pull off a streetwalker. I mean some of those girls are really used up and you’re just so…” He waved up and down at her and she snorted.

  “So what? Gangly?” she asked with a grin, leaning toward him. “Whorey?”

  He chuckled. “I was gonna say peaches and cream, Murphy. I mean it’s hard to believe anyone could think of you as leading an unhealthy lifestyle.”

  She reached over and punched him as he laughed. “Are you saying I’m fat, dickhead?”

  He laughed harder. “Not at all, Murphy. You’re perfect.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Aw, now you’re making me blush, Delancey. Truthfully though, the sergeant made us diet for a week before going out there. Of course a little dark rouge to hollow out our cheeks made us look a lot more gaunt than we actually were.” She looked over and grinned. “Anyway, that was the only undercover assignment I’ve ever had, so I don’t really know where to start with this one. Do you have any thoughts?”

  Kane sobered. “Yeah, I have a few. Our backstory is that we’re dirty cops, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, well, it’s been my experience that the best way to come off as genuine in what we’re trying to be is to think of our target the way any con artist would. Let’s call the target—Brandon Moore—a mark. There’re a few things we have to do to ingratiate ourselves with him. First of all, we have to get to know him. What are his frustrations? Who does he trust? What are his weaknesses? How does he spend his time? How does he spend his money? What are his hopes and dreams?”

  “Okay. Good. We have to get to know the mark. I get that,” Murphy said.

  “Right. Once we know that, all we have to do is exploit one or more of them, and we’ll be in. I’ve found the hopes and dreams one to be really helpful. A lot is going to depend on his personality. We’ll play the first meeting by ear. Since we’re starting from the ground up without the benefit of a mutual acquaintance to introduce us, we might have to do something dramatic to get his attention. A lot will depend on how this first meeting comes off.”

  “Okay, lead on, Delancey.”

  The Lance and Shield was dark inside. Dark floors, dark paneling on the walls, dark tray ceilings with a forest-green paint wherever wood wasn’t present. The bar itself was quite long, running the length of one side of the deep room. It had a brass kick and high barstools that swiveled the old-fashioned way with spindled wooden backs built for comfort or drunks or both. The Lance smelled like fine whiskey and Kane realized there had to be a reason for it.

  Several unopened bottles of Macallan were lined up on the back bar and with little examination, he guessed they had to be the well-aged variety. Clearly, Brandon Moore kept his place pristine and stocked it with premium whiskey that probably sold for well over forty bucks a shot. Even in Hollywood, the Lance and Shield had clientele, some of them rich enough to appreciate what they were drinking, not only there to get their drunk on and pass out later, though some would no doubt do that anyway.

  Since they’d strategically planned their outing to the bar before lunch, Kane felt eyes on them as soon as they entered the sparsly-patroned bar at that hour. They took a seat at the back and Kane unbuttoned and shrugged out of his suit coat as soon as they entered. Kelly stripped her blazer off, leaving her gun and the badge clipped to her belt exposed, the same way Kane’s was. They wanted to leave no doubt as to their identity even though Kane was pretty certain anyone with a brain would have been able to pick them out as law enforcement.

  He was startled to see a man who looked surprisingly like Enoch Moore come up to their table, wiping his hands on a bar towel. Seeing the man who had killed his father all those years ago in the face of another man, was shocking. He’d know him from the picture Marshal Brady had shown him but seeing him in person was something altogether different. It made Kane feel a rush of anger, surprising in its ferocity. On one level he knew he should have expected Brandon Moore to look just like his father, but knowing and actually seeing it were two separate things.

  “It’s a little early, but I’m happy to pour you a drink,” the man said. “Or, we have a full bar menu so my cook can get you just about anything you want. What’ll it be?” He was leering at Kelly and Kane noticed that his gaze was focused on her bustline, not her face. He wanted to stand up and deck the guy right then and there. No one, certainly not this asshole, was going to touch Kelly—even with his eyes. Kane knew he had to curtail the blinding rage he was feeling at that moment but it was hard. He forced himself to breathe deeply and then directed a tight smile at the man.

  “You got a menu?”

  “Sure, officer.” He walked away and Kane watched him until he felt Kelly’s hand on his forearm.

  “Breathe or you’ll give us away before we even get started, Delancey,” she cautioned, speaking in low tones so she couldn’t be heard in the dark quiet bar.

  “I guess we’ve figured out one of the man’s weaknesses,” Kane growled.

  “It seems my boobs prominently figure into his hopes and dreams category,” Kelly said with a smirk.

  Kane nodded, watching Moore come back with two menus in his hand, doing his best not to jump up and punch the guy as Moore once again stared at Kelly. He held the menus out and Kane took one, passing the other to Kelly before nodding to Moore. “We’ll be ready in a minute.”

  “Give me a wave. Can I get you something to drink, officer?” Moore was finally forced to drag his leer away from Kelly as Kane spoke.

  “I’ll take a pint. Kelly?”

  “Same. Thanks,” she said. Moore walked away and she leaned close to him. “You look like you want to kill him, Delancey. Lighten up or we’re finished here.”

  Kane held her frown for a second and then nodded. “Fine. I guess I should be grateful the guy chases tail. At least we know who should do the approach.”

  “You’re gonna let me do my job and hook the big fish, huh?” She grinned widely.

  Kane hated the fact that she was going to have to be the one to take the lead but at least he knew she was armed with a big gun. Besides, he knew she was capable. Cassidy and Mike had seemed pleased when they learned whom their captain had assigned as his partner. He trusted Dev to have his back so he had to trust Kelly would be fine too. She might look like a girl but he knew she had training and experience. He had to trust his partner, but just the thought of her going head to head with that sleazeball in a room alone somewhere, had him crazy.

  “I’m sorry, Murphy. I hate the way he looks at you. That’s all.”

  She reached out and patted his arm, ducking her head so he had to meet her gaze. “Don’t go all caveman on me until I need you to, okay, Delancey? Besides, don’t you want to see how I behave when I’m drunk?”

  Kane felt himself frown. “Not really. Not with him.”

  She pulled her hand back and reclined against the booth. “I know but it’s our best way in at this point. Remember, we’re here to get the lay of the land, right?”

&n
bsp; “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “Okay then. Boobs it is.”

  He snorted and shook his head. When Moore returned, they gave their orders, a cobb salad for her and a rare cheeseburger for him. When their food came, Kane was only slightly surprised at how good it tasted. The batter-dipped onion rings that they split were heavenly and the Thousand Island on his burger was delicious.

  “Clearly, he has a good cook. It might be why they’re so busy.” Patrons had begun flooding into the bar as the noon hour rolled around and he was surprised by how quickly it filled up. Two waitresses had come on shift in the hour that they sat there and they joined Moore in serving drinks and platters of food. A bartender busily poured pints of ale and other drinks. Kane was only slightly surprised he hadn’t heard of the pub before this assignment. The tables, like another one of his favorite West Hollywood haunts—Barney’s Beanery—were covered with photos of movie stars from the 1950s and 60s and then coated with some sort of clear lamination. It was interesting to share their meal with greats like Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn.

  By the time they finished their food, Moore was back behind the bar, counting change at the register. He’d been by the table a few times during the meal but they’d both declined anything more to drink, wanting to stay sharp. Anything more than a single pint of Guinness would have been a mistake. They hung around until the bar crowd began to thin out, just after two thirty, seeming to linger over the coffee Moore brought them as they discussed how they should approach him. They finally decided Kelly would offer their services as an added layer of protection for him and his business. Kane wished there was another way but since the man seemed to prefer his partner.