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Acclaim for Radcly ffe’s Fiction

Lammy winner “…Stolen Moments is a collection of steamy

stories about women who just couldn’t wait. It’s sex when

desire overrides reason, and it’s incredibly hot!” – On Our

Backs

Lammy winner “…Distant Shores, Silent Thunder weaves

an intricate tapestry about passion and commitment between

lovers. The story explores the fragile nature of trust and

the sanctuary provided by loving relationships.” – Sapphic

Reader

Shield of Justice is a “…well-plotted…lovely romance…I

couldn’t turn the pages fast enough!” – Ann Bannon, author of

The Beebo Brinker Chronicles

A Matter of Trust is a “… sexy, powerful love story filled with

angst, discovery and passion that captures the uncertainty of

first love and its discovery.” – Just About Write

“The author’s brisk mix of political intrigue, fast-paced action,

and frequent interludes of lesbian sex and love…in Honor

Reclaimed…sure does make for great escapist reading.”

– Q Syndicate

Lammy Finalist Justice Served delivers a “…crisply written,

fast-paced story with twists and turns and keeps us guessing

until the final explosive ending.” – Independent Gay Writer

Change of Pace is “… contemporary, yet timeless, not only

about sex, but also about love, longing, lust, surprises, chance

meetings, planned meetings, fulfilling wild fantasies, and

trust.” – Midwest Book Review

“Radcly f fe has once again pulled together all the ingredients

of a genuine page-turner, this time adding some new spices

into the mix. shadowland is sure to please—in part because

Radcly f fe never loses sight of the fact that she is telling a love

story, and a compelling one at that.” – Cameron Abbott, author

of To The Edge and An Inexpressible State of Grace

Lammy Finalist Turn Back Time is filled with…“wonderful

love scenes, which are both tender and hot.” – MegaScene

“Innocent Hearts… illustrates that our struggles for acceptance

of women loving women is as old as time—only the setting

changes. The romance is sweet, sensual, and touching.” –

Just About Write

In Lammy Finalist When Dreams Tremble the “…focus on

character development is meticulous and comprehensive,

filled with angst, regret, and longing, building to the ultimate

climax.” – Just About Write

“Sweet No More…snarls, teases and toes the line between

pleasure and pain.” – Best Lesbian Erotica 2008

“Word of Honor takes the reader on a great ride. The sex scenes

are incredible…and the story builds to an exciting climax that

is as chilling as it is rewarding.” – Midwest Book Review

By the Author

Romances

Innocent Hearts

Fated Love

Love’s Melody Lost

Turn Back Time

Love’s Tender Warriors

Promising Hearts

Tomorrow’s Promise

When Dreams Tremble

Passion’s Bright Fury

The Lonely Hearts Club

Love’s Masquerade

Night Call

shadowland

The Provincetown Tales

Safe Harbor

Beyond the Breakwater

Distant Shores, Silent Thunder

Storms of Change

Winds of Fortune

Honor Series

Justice Series

Above All, Honor

A Matter of Trust (prequel)

Honor Bound

Shield of Justice

Love & Honor

In Pursuit of Justice

Honor Guards

Justice in the Shadows

Honor Reclaimed

Justice Served

Honor Under Siege

Justice for All

Word of Honor

Erotic Interludes: Change Of Pace

(A Short Story Collection)

Radical Encounters

(An Erotic Short Story Collection)

Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.:

Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments

Erotic Interludes 3: Lessons in Love

Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions

Erotic Interludes 5: Road Games

Romantic Interludes 1: Discovery

Visit us at www.boldstrokesbooks.com

JUSTICE

FOR ALL

by

RADCLY f FE

2009

JUSTICE FOR ALL

© 2009 By Radclyffe. all Rights ReseRved.

isBN 10: 1-60282-074-0e

isBN 13: 978-1-60282-074-6e

This ElEcTronic Book is PuBlishEd By

Bold sTrokEs Books, inc.,

P.o. Box 249

VallEy Falls, ny 12185

FirsT EdiTion: aPril 2009

This is a Work oF FicTion. naMEs, characTErs, PlacEs, and

incidEnTs arE ThE ProducT oF ThE auThor’s iMaGinaTion or

arE usEd FicTiTiously. any rEsEMBlancE To acTual PErsons,

liVinG or dEad, BusinEss EsTaBlishMEnTs, EVEnTs, or localEs

is EnTirEly coincidEnTal.

This Book, or ParTs ThErEoF, May noT BE rEProducEd in any

ForM WiThouT PErMission.

cRedits

EdiTors: JEnniFEr kniGhT, ruTh sTErnGlanTz and sTacia sEaMan

ProducTion dEsiGn: sTacia sEaMan

coVEr dEsiGn By shEri (GraPhicarTisT2020@hoTMail.coM)

Acknowledgments

This book belongs to all the readers who asked for this series to continue

and who have supported and encouraged me in its creation. My deepest

gratitude.

Many thanks to first readers Connie, Diane, Eva, Paula, RB, and

Tina, and to Jennifer Knight, Ruth Sternglantz, and Stacia Seaman for

outstanding editorial guidance. Congratulations to Sheri for reading my

mind on cover design yet again.

And to Lee, for always wanting another story. Amo te.

Radclyffe 2009

Dedication

For Lee

All Ways

Justice for All

PROLOgUE

Tell me again, Vincent, how it is that in six months I’ve lost a

third of my income.”

Before the visibly sweating man standing in front of his desk

could reply, Kratos Zamora swiveled his leather desk chair to face

the floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows. His office on the twenty-fifth

floor of the high-rise he owned in Center City commanded a view

from downtown Philadelphia across the Delaware River into southern

New Jersey. The panorama was book-ended by the Benjamin Franklin

Bridge to the north and the Walt Whitman to the south. The Port of

Philadelphia stretched off to his right and, as the silent seconds passed,

he contemplated a cargo ship lumbering up to the pier loaded with

twenty-by-forty-foot containers stacked ten high. Some of those carried

his legitimate products, and others should have carried his far more

lucrative merchandise. And there was his problem.

Squinting slightly in the late afternoon sun, he continued in a

conversational tone as if reading from a grocery list. “Seventy-five

percent of the online entertainment revenues and over half of the escort

service’s have dried up. And now,” he paused to spin back around,

“you’re telling me our direct line to City Hall has disappeared. Did I

hear that right?”

“Not exactly disappeared,” the big man in the ill-fitting suit

answered diffidently. “More like…dead.”

Kratos winced inwardly, because even though his offices were

routinely swept for surveillance devices at the start of every eight-hour

shift, he still avoided discussing business indoors. He’d rather take his

chances outside where traffic noise and physical obstacles made long-

• 11 •

RADclY fFe

range audio surveillance problematic. However, most of his men had

grown up in a different era and were slow to retrain. He had inherited

the business from his father only five years before, at the age of thirty-two, even though his older brother Gregor was the first son. Gregor had

his talents, but they tended to be of the physical variety. Kratos had

earned his MBA at Wharton and their father, in a break with tradition,

had named him heir to Zamora Enterprises. Surprisingly, Gregor

hadn’t objected and now served as Kratos’s security chief. Many

people assumed Gregor headed the family and Kratos was content to

let the fallacy go unchallenged. There were advantages to being seen

as a legitimate businessman. In fact, he considered himself a modern

entrepreneur, even if on occasion he employed methods that were never

covered in his curriculum at the University of Pennsylvania. A flexible

approach was necessary in order to secure his goals.

“You didn’t answer my original question,” he prodded gently. He

knew the answer, of course, but in lieu of killing the messenger, he

would merely make him suffer. Crossing his knees and casually flicking

a nonexistent wrinkle out of the leg of his charcoal gray blended-silk

trousers, he regarded Vincent Costa with a bland expression.

Vincent, one of his more trusted captains, folded his hands over

his crotch and stared into space. “There’s this new unit…the High

Profile—”

“Yes, I’m aware of it.” Kratos glanced at the single sheet of paper

in the center of his desk.

A list of names and nothing else was typed down the left-hand

side: Detective Lieut. Rebecca Frye, Detective First William Watts,

Detective Third Dellon Mitchell, JT Sloan, and Jason McBride. The

High Profile Crimes Unit. An odd assortment of local law enforcement

and civilian consultants first formed to break an Internet pornography

ring that used underage models. That online entertainment operation

just happened to be neatly folded into one of Zamora Enterprise’s

subsidiary corporations, and its loss had been costly. Only days ago,

this crime unit had intercepted a delivery of young girls destined to

become stars in high-demand pornography films as well as call girls for

an exclusive escort service also run by Zamora Enterprises.

“What I don’t understand is how they’ve managed to do in a

few months what an entire police force hasn’t been capable of in two

decades.”

• 12 •

Justice for All

“I don’t know, boss.”

“Guess, Vincent.” Kratos needed men like Vincent, men who were

close to the street, far closer to the blood and the grime than he had ever

been. While he was welcome at $10,000-a-plate benefit dinners and

luncheoned frequently with the mayor, he had never personally pulled

the trigger on an enemy. He’d never walked the mean streets except as

a boy under his father’s protection. He wasn’t bothered by the fact there

were things his men could do better than he, as long as he was certain

that they never knew it.

“It’s the computers,” Vincent said, blinking as a trickle of sweat

settled in the corner of his eye.

Interested, Kratos sat forward and clasped his hands in the center

of his desk on top of the offending list. The sunlight glinted off the

heavy gold signet ring he wore on the small finger of his right hand.

The edge of his pristine white cuff covered a portion of the list, so all

he could see was the name Rebecca. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not like the old days, you know? Used to be cops were out on

the streets, listening to the chatter and squeezing their snitches to find

out what was going on. Hell, now they can follow you with that little

chip thing in your cell phone. They don’t even have to get out of their

car.”

“Are you saying our electronic security is a problem?”

Vincent lowered his gaze to meet Kratos’s. “Couldn’t hurt beefing

it up, but that’s not gonna stop them. They fingered our inside man at

City Hall pretty fast, and they pulled in all the midlevel porn distributors

by tracking them through their computers. They’re good, boss.”

“We’ve got some muscle in that area too,” Kratos said, thinking

of the leggy redhead who had set up the spyware that had ultimately

given him access to confidential records at City Hall and One Police

Plaza. She was good, very good. But one of the first things he’d learned

from his father was never to go into a fight with only one plan of attack.

“What happens if we break up this unit?”

“Buys us time. Maybe permanently.” Vincent’s eyes glinted. “You

want me to arrange some accidents?”

Kratos sighed, bothered less by the indiscreet question than the

option itself. Assassination was not his preferred approach, not because

it concerned him to neutralize his adversaries, but because murder was

usually sloppy and always drew unwanted attention. He’d been opposed

• 13 •

RADclY fFe

to eliminating the undercover officers who’d gotten close to exposing

the kiddie porn operation but had finally consented in order to assuage

his new Russian business partners. The compromise seemed necessary

to gain a greater percentage of the profits, but as a result, he and his

businesses were coming under far more scrutiny than the Russians. He

didn’t want to invite even more.

“Perhaps there’s another way,” he said, recalling another of his

father’s lessons. Where there was an obstacle, there was usually an

opportunity also. “After all, we need a new representative at One Police

Plaza.”

“Turn one of those cops?” Vincent laughed, then quickly smothered

his smile. “From what I hear, they’re all a bunch of Boy Scouts.”

Kratos leaned back and tapped the list with one finger. Five

people—three women, two men. “Find me the weak link.”

“I heard some of them are queers.”

“If you heard it, then it’s common knowledge and blackmail would

be pointless. No,” Kratos mused. “It won’t be greed that provides the

lever we need, and it won’t be power. It won’t even be fear of death.”

He smiled, enjoying the challenge. “It will be love.”

“Boss?” Vincent frowned.

“Bring me everything you can find about their families.”

• 14 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER ONE

Rebecca Frye studied her face in the mirror over the tiny sink

in her hospital room’s bathroom. The harsh institutional light

mercilessly highlighted the purple-and-green bruise that extended from

her left temple down her cheek to the angle of her jaw. Her upper eyelid

was so swollen she could barely make out the ice blue rim of her iris.

At least the blood in her hair was gone. She’d finally gotten a shower

after two days of insisting to the nurses that she was perfectly capable

of standing upright. Actually, the first time she’d tried to get out of

bed, the room or her head—or possibly both—had spun so badly she’d

nearly vomited. Thank Christ Catherine hadn’t been there to witness

the episode.

Rebecca wasn’t bothered by the mess the gunshot had made of

her face. To her way of thinking, if she was standing up and able to see

the damage, she was way ahead of the game. What bothered her was

that every time her lover, Dr. Catherine Rawlings, looked at her, she

would be reminded how close Rebecca had come to being a casualty.

Catherine tried to hide her worry and her fear, but the shadows flickering

just below the surface of her green eyes gave her away. For Rebecca,

the pain of being shot was nothing compared to the pain of knowing

Catherine was suffering because of her.

She opened and closed her jaw carefully. Stiff and sore, but in

working order. For a few seconds she contemplated trying to cover the

bruises with makeup, but that would only call more attention to the

injury. And no attempt at camouflage was going to diminish the reality

• 15 •

RADclY fFe

of what had happened. She turned away from the mirror, flicked off the

overhead lights, and padded barefoot back into her room.

Catherine stood by the windows, her arms folded beneath her

breasts, her back to Rebecca. She wore a sage green silk suit, the slim

skirt coming to just above her knees, the jacket cinched at the waist.

Her auburn hair fell in waves to her shoulders, and for the first time,

Rebecca noticed the silver at her temples. She was elegant and beautiful

and tender and wise. She was also strong and intuitive. She was all the

things that Rebecca was not, and Rebecca could still not understand

what it was Catherine needed from her.

She stopped by the end of the bed, feeling disadvantaged in

nothing more than a hospital gown and a pair of gym shorts. “Aren’t

you supposed to be in clinic?”

“I’m playing hooky.” Catherine turned from the window, her gaze

going immediately to the bruise. She quickly smiled, but not fast enough

to cover her flinch of distress. “It’s good to see you out of bed.”

“I’m clean, too.”

“Even better.” Catherine crossed to Rebecca and kissed her on the

cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Not bad. I don’t suppose you know when I’m getting out of

here?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Catherine tried to keep her tone light.

“Since I expected that would be your first question, I made some calls

on my way over.”

She appraised the damage to Rebecca’s face. Even though she

knew, rationally, that Rebecca would heal, she couldn’t prevent the

sinking feeling she got in the pit of her stomach at the sight of the injury.

The bullet had glanced off Rebecca’s skull just above her temple. The

impact had been enough to flay open her scalp and give her a hairline

fracture, but the neurosurgeons assured Catherine once the concussion

resolved there would be no permanent damage. Still, it was impossible

to erase the image of Rebecca lying so still and pale on a stretcher, her

blond hair matted with congealing blood. Catherine tried to tell herself

it was because Rebecca was so skilled, so good at what she did, that

she’d managed to avoid serious injury. If she pondered the possibility

that it was only luck that had kept the bullet from striking Rebecca

a half-inch lower or a half an inch farther to the right and killing her

• 16 •

Justice for All

instantly, she’d never be able to sleep again when Rebecca was out

on the streets. Luck was far too fickle a lady to be the guardian of her

lover’s life.

“Ali said she’ll stop by as soon as she’s finished in the OR, and if

you promise to behave, she’ll let you go.”

“I’ll promise her anything she wants,” Rebecca said.

Catherine raised an eyebrow. “It’s a good thing I trust Ali Torveau,

then.”

“You can trust me.” Rebecca slipped her arm around Catherine’s

waist and kissed her. When she felt Catherine’s resistance, she loosened

her hold and eased back. She looked away, fearing what she might see

in Catherine’s eyes. “I should get dressed.”

“Let me get your clothes.”

“I can do it.” Rebecca walked to the tall narrow closet next to the

door. “I know you have patients waiting.”

“I want to drive you home.”

“That’s okay,” Rebecca said briskly. “I’ll call one of the team.”

She opened the closet. A shirt and clean pair of jeans hung on

hooks where Catherine had placed them when she’d brought them from

home. They weren’t officially living together, but they might as well

be. Rebecca still had her small, spare apartment above a mom-and-pop

grocery store in South Philadelphia, but she spent almost every night in

Catherine’s Victorian near University Hospital where Catherine was the

assistant chief of psychiatry. They’d been talking about living together,

but that was before the shooting—the second time Rebecca had been

shot in the line of duty since she and Catherine had been together. She

wouldn’t be surprised if Catherine wanted to reconsider. Every other

woman Rebecca had ever been with had eventually decided that the

demands and risks of her job were too much to deal with.

“You should get back to work,” she told Catherine without turning

around.

A pair of hands slid over her shoulders and Catherine leaned ever

so gently against her back. With her mouth very close to Rebecca’s

ear, she whispered, “I’m not going anywhere and you can’t chase me

away.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Rebecca stared into the closet.

She hadn’t realized she was cold until the heat of Catherine’s body

• 17 •

RADclY fFe

warmed her. She never realized what she needed until Catherine gave

it to her without being asked. She covered one of Catherine’s hands.

“I’m sorry.”

“Turn around.”

Slowly, Rebecca turned.

Catherine’s heart clenched at the fear she glimpsed on her lover’s

face. Rebecca was the bravest, strongest woman she’d ever known, and

she couldn’t bear to think that anything she had said or done might have

put that look in Rebecca’s eyes. “Do you love me?”

“More than my life,” Rebecca whispered.

Catherine laced her arms around Rebecca’s neck. “As long as

that’s true, I’ll be right here.”

Rebecca clasped Catherine’s waist and kissed her again, and this

time nothing stood between them. Immediately, her heart felt lighter.

Catherine was a few inches shorter than her own six feet, and she

loved the way Catherine’s body fit against hers. Holding her, knowing

Catherine was hers, was like shining a light in the dark places in her

soul. “I love you.”

“That’s all I need, Rebecca.” Catherine feathered her fingers

through Rebecca’s sleek, fair hair. “It’s really so simple.”

Rebecca leaned her forehead against Catherine’s. “Why can’t I

understand that?”

“You will, darling. You—”

The hall door swung open at the same time as a sharp rap sounded,

and a brunette in surgical scrubs breezed into the room. Ali Torveau,

Rebecca’s trauma surgeon and a good friend to them both, planted her

fists on her slim hips and regarded them quizzically.

“Why is it every time I have a cop for a patient I end up finding her

in a clinch with some good-looking woman before I even have a chance

to sign the discharge papers?”

Catherine slipped out of Rebecca’s arms. “This is not a clinch.

Clinching is for teenagers. What you witnessed is an embrace.”

“Uh-huh. Looked a lot like a clinch to me.” Ali pointed toward the

bed. “Rebecca—in bed.”

“I feel fine,” Rebecca protested.

“Down,” Ali repeated with just a hint of a growl.

“Okay. Okay.” Rebecca stretched out on the narrow bed. As soon

• 18 •

Justice for All

as she did she noticed that her headache dialed down a notch or two.

She decided to keep that information to herself.

“Any double vision?” Ali flicked the beam of a penlight back and

forth between Rebecca’s eyes.

“No.”

“Headache?”

“No.”

“Let’s try that one again. Headache?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca could see Catherine’s

concerned expression. “Mild. Nothing worse than a bad hangover.”

Ali swung her stethoscope from around her neck, hooked it in

her ears, and pressed the bell to Rebecca’s chest. “Take a deep breath.

Again. One more time.” Then she straightened and slung the stethoscope

over her shoulder. “Fortunately the x-rays don’t show any evidence of

sternal or rib fractures. I don’t expect you’ll have the same kind of

pulmonary problems you had after the chest wound.”

The last thing Rebecca wanted was Ali reminding Catherine of

another brush with death. “Look, this was nothing. I was wearing a

vest and it did its job. I got caught with a glancing round. The ER guys

should’ve sent me home with a couple of stitches.”

“We all know what happened, darling,” Catherine said quietly.

“And we all know what could have happened. Let’s just—”

Another knock sounded and a slightly overweight, gray-haired

man in a brown suit that was shiny at the knees lumbered in. He took

in the group and quickly looked at the ceiling. “Is everything covered?

I hope not.”

“You should be so lucky.” Rebecca had never been so happy to

see her partner, William Watts. She hadn’t wanted to work with the

sometimes crude, reputedly over-the-hill detective after her longtime

partner had been executed along with another undercover cop just less

than a year before. But her captain had insisted and it hadn’t taken her

long to realize that Watts was no burned-out cop putting in time until

his pension. He was astute, hardworking in his own laid-back way, and

most importantly to Rebecca, completely trustworthy.

Watts grinned, his blue eyes twinkling in his heavyset, ruddy face.

“I always thought those little hospital johnnies were a turn-on. Better

view from the back, though.”

• 19 •

RADclY fFe

“Jesus,” Rebecca muttered. “Get out of here so I can get

dressed.”

“Getting sprung, huh, Loo?”

“Yes, and you’re my ride.”

“Sure thing. I’ll be outside.” He nodded to Catherine and Ali as he

headed out the door. “Ladies.”

“I can drive you home, darling.” Catherine glanced at Ali. “If

you’re going to let her go?”

Ali stood back from the bed. “Your CT scan shows a small

hematoma just below that hairline fracture in the left temporal area.

Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time it resolves over the course

of a few weeks. Every once in a blue moon we see delayed bleeding,

usually from a vein tearing during excessive exercise or something else

popping because of severe hypertension. What that means is you need

to take it easy. No driving for two weeks. No workouts, no jogging, and

no vigorous sex.”

“Got it,” Rebecca said through gritted teeth.

“There’s an even smaller chance, maybe one in five thousand, that

this hematoma could resolve with a small area of scarring. Scarring in

the brain equals a focus of irritation, and we sometimes see seizures. If

you notice weakness, numbness, olfactory disturbances, memory loss,

tremors, I need to know about it immediately.”

“What about prophylactic Dilantin?” Catherine asked.

Rebecca’s stomach tightened at the slight quiver in Catherine’s

voice. She hated this—she just wanted it over, fast.

Ali shook her head. “The risk is smaller that she’ll have problems

than the potential complications of taking the drug. I’d rather just wait

and watch.” She fixed Rebecca with a piercing stare. “If I have your

word that you’ll follow instructions.”

Rebecca reached for Catherine’s hand. “You have it.”

“Good enough. I’ll leave prescriptions for you at the nurses’ station.

You can pick them up on your way out. I want to see you next week in

clinic.” Ali started toward the door, then looked over her shoulder. “I’m

glad you’re okay. Keep the rest of your people that way too.”

“I plan to,” Rebecca said.

v

• 20 •

Justice for All

Watts was slouched against the wall next to the door when Rebecca

and Catherine walked out.

“You really should go downstairs in a wheelchair,” Catherine

murmured.

Watts grinned and Rebecca shot him a look. “By the time someone

finds one, I could be relaxing in the car. You did park out front in the

fire lane, didn’t you, Watts?”

“Right at the curb, Loo.”

“Good enough. Let’s go.”

Catherine sighed. “I can’t fight you both.” Then she stepped closer

to the big detective. “I’m counting on you to look after her, William.”

The smirk disappeared from Watts’s face and he straightened,

warmth replacing the usual sarcastic gleam in his eyes. “Yes ma’am.

I’ll do that.”

“Move it, Watts,” Rebecca grumbled. The last thing she needed

was babysitting. She kissed Catherine’s cheek. “I’ll see you later. Don’t

worry.”

Catherine brushed her fingertips over Rebecca’s uninjured cheek.

“Get some rest.”

“I won’t do anything strenuous. Promise.”

The three rode down in the elevator together and then parted in

front of the hospital as Catherine hurried off to the medical arts building

down the block. Rebecca eased into the front seat of the department-issue Crown Vic and was instantly at home. The interior smelled of

smoke from Watts’s cigarettes, grease from the McDonald’s containers

on the floor in the backseat, and the unmistakable scent of dozens of

bodies. For the first time in days she felt like herself.

Watts settled his belly behind the wheel and pulled out into traffic.

“Your place or the doc’s?”

“Neither. Let’s head to the office.”

“I don’t want to get my balls in a vise here, Loo. You’re supposed

to be taking it easy.”

“No one said I couldn’t sit in a chair and talk.” Rebecca leaned her

head back and closed her eyes. “Assemble the troops.”

“I ought to be wearing a cup,” Watts muttered. “My balls are

aching already.”

“Shut up, Watts.” Rebecca smiled to herself when she heard his

happy chuckle.

• 21 •

RADclY fFe

v

JT Sloan took the call at just after 2:00 p.m. Watts’s message to

meet at the unofficial headquarters of the HPCU in her private office

building was a welcome reprieve to a life prison sentence. She’d just

spent the last five hours working with two detectives who, along

with her, made up the fledgling Electronic Surveillance Unit at the

Philadelphia Police Department. In a moment of pure insanity, she’d

signed on as the civilian consultant to help set up the unit and train the

newly assigned detectives whose knowledge of cybersleuthing began

with being able to turn on a computer and ended with signing on to

the Internet for their e-mail. Fortunately, they made up for their lack

of knowledge with eagerness. Still, there was a limit to how long she

could rein in her temper, not one of her talents.

“Gotta run, fellas,” she said, clipping her phone back to her belt.

“Go ahead and start the downloads from the archives.”

Lloyd Elliott, a sandy-haired, boyish-looking detective who was

the reverse of Sloan’s black haired, blue-eyed good looks, straightened

up in his chair in alarm. “Without you? What if—”

Sloan waved a hand and headed for the door. “There’s nothing you

can do I can’t fix. Have fun.”

Hearing their grumbles as she made her escape, she laughed. There

was a lot to be said for being her own boss. On her way to her Porsche,

she made another call.

“Michael Lassiter’s office,” a smooth, sophisticated voice

answered.

“It’s Sloan. Is she around?”

“Of course, Ms. Sloan. I’ll get her.”

“Just Sloan,” Sloan said automatically. She wasn’t sure why her

partner’s executive assistant couldn’t get that straight.

While she waited, she put the top down on the Carrera and took

a deep breath of the cool autumn air. The sun was bright, but it lacked

heat. She should probably get her leather jacket out of the trunk, because

she’d feel the chill in just her usual white T-shirt and blue jeans, but she

didn’t bother. She wasn’t going far and she liked the freedom of the air

blowing against her skin. She’d spent three days behind bars once and

• 22 •

Justice for All

that was enough to make her hate any kind of confinement for the rest

of her life. She pushed the thought away. All that was behind her.

“Sloan?”

“Hi, baby.”

“This is a nice surprise,” Michael Lassiter said.

Sloan got a little rush just hearing her speak. Michael not only had

a kind of Lauren Bacall beauty, she had the voice to go with it. “I’m

headed back to the office. Rebecca is out of the hospital.”

“That’s wonderful news.”

“How are you feeling?” Sloan asked. Michael had been injured

herself not long before and was still only working half days at Innova,

the design corporation she headed.

“I’m fine.”

“No migraines?” Sloan started the engine and let it idle while she

talked.

“Really, sweetheart. A little tired, maybe, but I’m all right.”

“Don’t overdo, okay?”

“I promise. I’ll see you at home in a little while.”

“I might still be in the office when you arrive,” Sloan said. The

cyberinvestigation company she’d founded with another ex-federal

agent, Jason McBride, after she’d been falsely arrested and dismissed

from her Justice position, occupied the third floor of a renovated

warehouse in Old City. She’d been sharing her loft apartment on the

floor above with Michael for the last two years. “Call me when you get

home.”

“Sloan,” Michael chided softly. “You know very well if you’re

involved in something I won’t be able to drag you upstairs.”

Laughing, Sloan gunned the Porsche across the lot and out onto

the Benjamin Franklin Parkway heading east. “Baby, I want to see you.

And being dragged away sounds like fun.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of other fun things too.”

“Can’t wait. See you soon.”

Michael said good-bye and Sloan hung up, just barely managing

not to ask again if Michael was sure she was all right. She had argued

against her going back to her job so soon, but she understood the need to

work. Until she’d fallen in love with Michael, all she’d had was work.

Even now, when the hunt was on, the chase consumed her. Sometimes

• 23 •

RADclY fFe

she couldn’t tell the difference between being the hunter and the hunted

and all she could do was keep running through the complex labyrinth

of cyberspace until she won or dropped. Only Michael had ever been

able to call her back.

v

“Tell them no,” Sandy Sullivan mumbled, wrapping her slim arm

around Dellon Mitchell’s narrow waist and tethering her with a leg

across the thighs.

“Work, babe,” Dell whispered, trying unsuccessfully to extricate

herself from Sandy’s grip. Not that she really wanted to go anywhere.

Sandy might be half her size, but she was curvy in all the right places

and her skin was so smooth Dell could lose herself for hours just running

her fingertips over every inch. Not that she could really last for hours

without doing more than just touch her, but it felt that way sometimes.

The only thing in the world that could get her out of bed with Sandy

was a call to arms. The only thing she loved as much as Sandy was

being a cop. She was the youngest member of the High Profile Crimes

Unit and awakened daily hardly able to believe she was part of the

team. She’d do anything to prove herself. “I gotta go, babe.”

“Screw that, Dell. It’s your day off.” Sandy propped her head on

her elbow, her short blond hair spiky and her eyes even sharper. “Even

cops and whores get a day off.”

“You’re not a whore. You were never a whore.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “Okay. Even classy streetwalkers like

myself get a break once in a while.”

“I had a day off. Well, most of the day. And you kept me busy.”

Dell pushed up against the pillows, brushing strands of dark hair back

from her face. Sandy automatically curled up against her chest and Dell

stroked her hair. “The lieutenant’s out of the hospital.”

Sandy stopped playing with Dell’s nipple, thank God, and sat up

facing Dell. “Frye’s okay?”

“I guess so, or they wouldn’t have let her out. I told you I would

have taken you to visit her.” Dell wasn’t crazy about the fact that Sandy

was her lieutenant’s confidential informant. In fact, she hated the risk

Sandy took every time she went out on the street to gather intel. It only

bugged her some that Sandy was a little bit in love with Rebecca Frye.

• 24 •

Justice for All

She trusted the lieutenant. She trusted Sandy. It’s just that she couldn’t

imagine measuring up to the lieutenant in anybody’s eyes. Frye was not

only good-looking, she was an awesome cop. Dell thought if she turned

out to be half as brave and smart at her job as the lieutenant, she’d be

satisfied.

“She had enough people hanging around her,” Sandy said

dismissively. She ran her finger down the center of Dell’s thigh, smiling

when Dell twitched as if an electric current had shot through her. “Sure

you have to go?”

Dell grabbed Sandy’s hand. “You know I gotta. And yeah, I’m

gonna be thinking about what I’m missing the whole time.”

Sandy kissed her, rubbing her breasts lightly over Dell’s.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dell grabbed her and flipped her onto her back. Then she

settled her hips between Sandy’s legs and gently bit down on her neck.

She could spare ten minutes.

• 25 •

• 26 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwO

Rebecca shook Watts’s hand off her elbow as they climbed the

few stairs to the alcove at the entrance to Sloan’s building.

“Will you cut that out. I’m fine.” She glared up at the palm-sized

surveillance camera tucked into the corner. “Rebecca Frye and William

Watts.”

Watts leaned forward so the camera could pick up his face. “You

look like shit,” he muttered without moving his lips.

“Thank you. Now that you’ve registered your opinion, stop

hovering.”

When the door didn’t automatically click open, she knew they

were the first to arrive. A few seconds later a faint beep sounded and she

quickly keyed in her security code. The door opened and she stalked

into the cavernous ground level with Watts on her heels.

“I was just saying, you—”

“Unless you want to walk up to the third floor,” Rebecca said,

punching the button to the elevator, “you should put a sock in it.”

Her voice echoed around the unfinished brick walls. Wood beams

extended twenty feet overhead, enclosing the space that housed Sloan’s

vehicles and the sophisticated mechanics controlling the building.

Sloan’s security was beyond state of the art and her company’s

electronic surveillance center made the NSA look antiquated. With its

hi-tech equipment and privacy, her building was the perfect place from

which to run the HPCU.

“Man,” Watts muttered, hastily sliding into the elevator, “it was

so nice and peaceful the last couple of days. Nobody bitchin’ at me.

Nothing more strenuous to do than fill out a few forms.”

• 27 •

RADclY fFe

“I’ll bet it was great,” Rebecca said as the elevator whisked

soundlessly upward. “Bored yet?”

“It was enough to make a man cry.”

Rebecca smiled as she stepped off into Sloan and Jason’s domain.

Two huge U-shaped workstations holding more than a dozen computers

faced each other around an open central area. No one was currently at

work but data streamed across many of the oversized plasma monitors.

“I’ll be in the conference room. You think you can rustle up some stuff

to make coffee?”

Watts frowned. “Is it okay, do you think? I mean, coffee’s like a

stimulant, right? Makes your blood pressure go up?”

“Don’t tell me you were listening at the door.” Having Catherine

worry about her was bad enough. Appearing weak in front of her

colleagues, especially those she commanded, was just adding insult to

injury.

Watts held up both hands. “I’m not saying a word.”

“Coffee. Black. Strong. Now, Watts.”

As soon as he headed off to the small kitchen tucked into one

corner, Rebecca made her way to the only other enclosed area in the

expansive space. The conference room held a massive antique library

table surrounded by ten chairs, a counter in the back where a never-empty

coffeepot usually sat on a warmer, and one entire wall of monitors. The

screens provided views of the streets in front and rear of the building

in both directions, the entry alcove, the elevator, and everywhere else

in and around the building except Sloan and Michael’s living quarters

one floor up. A laptop rested on the table in front of Sloan and Jason’s

customary seats. Rebecca eased into a chair in her spot on Sloan’s right,

happy to be off her feet. She needed to be able to think, and the less she

moved around, the less her head bothered her.

It felt good to be back at work. She’d been part of the special sex

crimes unit until her previous partner, Jeff Cruz, was murdered. She’d

been in the middle of an intense manhunt for a serial rapist, and between

the stress of the case and Jeff’s death, she’d almost come unglued. But

she’d met Catherine, and her life had changed in ways she’d never

dreamed. Then her captain had assigned her to head the HPCU. She had

worked in multijurisdictional task forces before, but not with civilian

consultants. She’d resisted at first, even though both Sloan and Jason

were highly skilled ex-federal agents. Now she couldn’t envision her

• 28 •

Justice for All

team without them, any more than she could envision her life without

Catherine.

“Here you go, Loo.” Watts slid a mug of coffee in front of her and

put the pot on the warmer at the back of the room. Then he dropped into

a chair across from her and sighed. “Home sweet home.”

Rebecca was about to answer when she caught movement out of

the corner of her eye.

“It’s about time you two showed up,” she said when Sloan charged

in.

Sloan’s sleek dark hair was windblown, her face flushed from

the fast ride in the cold air. Jason McBride, a svelte handsome blond

with piercing blue eyes, followed her in. As usual, he was impeccably

attired in an open-collared pale blue shirt and dark trousers. He looked

every inch the successful young businessman, which he was. What

everyone on the team knew, but few others did, was that he was also a

breathtakingly beautiful transvestite named Jasmine.

“How you feeling, Frye?” Sloan asked as she and Jason took their

seats.

“Good.”

The sounds of running footsteps heralded the arrival of the

last team member, newly minted Detective Dellon Mitchell. Five-eight, black hair, blue eyes, slim and muscular, she wore low-slung

black jeans, a black T-shirt molded to her slender torso, scuffed black

motorcycle boots, and an equally well-worn leather motorcycle jacket.

At first glance she might be thought either a strikingly handsome young

woman or a beautiful boy. At times, she was both.

“Lieutenant!” Mitchell’s eyes sparkled with welcome. “Hey. Great

to see you.”

“Detective.” Despite her headache and fatigue, Rebecca put some

force into her voice. The team would function without her, but just as

much as she needed to be here, they needed to believe she was fit and

ready to lead. “Sorry to interrupt your day off.”

“No problem.” Mitchell slouched into a chair, her legs spread

casually. “It’s just so good to see you…” She colored. “I mean—”

“So,” Rebecca interrupted, saving both Mitchell and herself further

embarrassment, “somebody fill me in on what the hell we accomplished

the other night.”

She’d been shot in the middle of a raid and, despite her demands,

• 29 •

RADclY fFe

none of her team was given access to brief her. Consequently, she had

no idea where things stood with their ongoing investigation into a web

of human trafficking and sex slavery that extended from the Port of

Philadelphia deep into the heart of the city.

“We blew away the scumbag who shot you, for starters,” Watts

said, his eyes hard and flat.

Rebecca hated to let on that she couldn’t remember exactly what

had happened, but she knew who’d been backing her up. “Thanks,

Sloan.”

Sloan nodded. At the instant she’d pulled the trigger, she hadn’t

been thinking of anything except that if she didn’t shoot the guy, he was

going to shoot her and finish off Rebecca too. Afterward, she hoped the

dead man was the one who had nearly killed Michael during a thwarted

attempt on Sloan’s life. She wanted retribution for Michael’s injuries

even more than she wanted to put a stop to the abuse of young girls

and dismantle the organization behind the prostitution, pornography,

and drugs.

“Anything on the ballistics yet?” Rebecca doubted they’d hit the

one house where the man who’d assassinated her partner just happened

to be guarding a group of smuggled Russian girls, but stranger things

had occurred. Sometimes police work was just a lot of sweat, drudgery,

and occasional luck.

“No match to anything in the system,” Watts said. “He was using a

semiautomatic. These guys probably import them by the case.”

“So the weapon used to kill Jeff and Jimmy is still out there. And

presumably the shooter is too,” Rebecca summarized. Initially they’d

theorized that her partner Jeff and an undercover fed, Jimmy Hogan,

had been executed by a contract killer who was long gone. However,

an assistant district attorney, George Beecher, was murdered more

recently, only days before the HPCU raid. He was shot with the same

weapon used to kill the detectives.

Mitchell piped up. “So what are we thinking? That the shooter is

local? A mob guy, maybe?”

“Pretty ballsy for anyone local to kill a cop,” Watts said.

“Yes, if we’re talking about the usual suspects,” Rebecca said.

Organized crime bosses preferred not to bring down heat in their

own backyards. The killings were an escalation that suggested direct

• 30 •

Justice for All

involvement from outside players, most likely foreign interests, since

the girls were being smuggled in on ships from Eastern Europe.

“Mitchell,” she said, “grab the whiteboard and let’s put down what we

know and what we better find out.”

Several hours passed as the team shared information and

speculated. Finally, Mitchell put the marker down and they all stared at

the names and arrows and tried to complete the picture.

“What do we know?” Rebecca looked around the table. “Who’s

bringing these girls in and how?”

“They have to have local contacts to work the container switches

on the docks and to put them to work in the sex clubs,” Sloan said.

“That’s the Zamoras’ territory.”

“Probably,” Rebecca agreed. “But the Zamoras are not in it alone.

Are we getting any information from Irina?”

Dell Mitchell turned bright red. She had gone undercover as Mitch,

a drag king, to establish contact with a young Russian woman, Irina,

who appeared to supervise a group of smuggled girls when they were

dancing in local strip clubs. Mitch had needed to seduce Irina to discover

the address where the girls were held at night under armed guard. Some

of the surveillance team had listened in during the seduction, a fact that

still embarrassed the young detective.

After a minute, Mitchell said, “I tried to get information on the

girls who were in the house, including Irina, down at headquarters. The

story is as soon as our people brought them in, Immigration claimed

jurisdiction and moved them to a federal facility. No one’s heard

anything since then.”

Rebecca pinched the bridge of her nose, trying unsuccessfully

to back off the headache that was accelerating by the moment. “It’s

not Immigration. It’s probably Justice, and it’s probably Avery Clark.

Immigration doesn’t have the pull to get in the middle of an operation

like this. But Clark and the Justice Department do. God damn it. Every

time we get close to inside information, he shuts us out.” She leaned her

head back and closed her eyes. “Watts and I will track him down and

see what we can squeeze out of him.”

As if tuned into her fatigue and frustration, Watts picked up the

ball. “We know a lot more than we did a week ago. We know the

Russians are bringing young girls in through the port in containers

• 31 •

RADclY fFe

and we know where some of them were working. What we need is to

connect the Zamoras to these girls, because if we can, that’s a federal

crime and they’re going down for a long long time.”

“We need eyes and ears back in the clubs.” Rebecca straightened

and looked at Mitchell. “Is your cover good?”

“Yes ma’am,” Mitchell said. “As far as anyone knows, including

Irina, I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m pretty sure

she saw me get cuffed.”

“Good. Then I want Mitch to reconnect with his drag king buddies

and get back into the clubs. Jasmine too, for backup. There’ll be a lot of

talk on the streets, and we’ll need our CIs working their sources hard.”

“Oh goodie,” Jason breathed in a husky whisper that was pure

Jasmine.

“Yes ma’am,” Mitchell said stiffly. Sandy was one of Rebecca’s

CIs. A friend of hers had been murdered just a few days before, when

she’d gotten too close to some major players in the porn film business,

and Mitchell wanted Sandy off the streets, but it wasn’t her call to

make. If she pushed her, Sandy would get pissed and be less likely to

tell Mitchell if she ran into trouble.

Jason leaned forward. “Somebody has to be doing fancy work

with the computers at the port to reroute the containers with the girls in

them and bury the shipping manifests. I don’t see anyone down there

having the know-how for that.”

“Plus,” Sloan added, “someone injected a very smart Trojan horse

into the City Hall system to hack into confidential files.”

“What are you saying?” Rebecca asked. “There’s a high-level

hacker at work for the opposite side?”

“Undoubtedly,” Sloan said.

“Can you find them?”

Sloan grinned, her eyes darkening to indigo with the scent of the

hunt. “Oh yeah. Now we’ve got two intrusion sites—at the port and

City Hall. Even the best hacker leaves fingerprints.”

“Do it,” Rebecca said. “Watts, I need you to pave the way at the

port for our people. And check in with the organized crime team and

see if they’ve got any intel on Zamora’s activities that might help us.”

She took a deep breath. “Our target is the Zamoras. The feds will chase

the Russians. If we happen to trip over them, all the better. But we need

to clean up our own house first.”

• 32 •

Justice for All

“The OC guys aren’t going to like us poking around on their turf,”

Watts pointed out mildly.

Rebecca shrugged. “The HPCU has cross-divisional jurisdiction.

We’ll be polite, but we’ll go where the trail leads.”

Watts chuckled again. The day just got better and better.

v

Michael turned the corner for home with a mental sigh of relief.

She’d gotten caught up in a project meeting that afternoon and hadn’t

realized how very tired she was until it was close to six. Just the

short drive across town seemed endless. Her eyeballs pounded as if

she hadn’t slept in weeks, when all she seemed to do was sleep. As

she slowed to pull into the garage, she noted a familiar figure leaning

against a lamppost a few yards ahead. Sandy looked even younger than

her eighteen years in the muted glow of the streetlight. She also looked

like she must be cold in her very short skirt and her thin red faux-leather

jacket. Hugging herself, Sandy strolled up as soon as Michael got out

of the car.

“You can’t be waiting for a bus,” Michael said, “since none of

them can get down these streets.”

Sandy smiled shyly, as if caught out doing something untoward.

“I might as well be waiting for some bus that will never come. Waiting

for Dell when she’s in a cop meeting isn’t much different.”

“Ah.” Michael shifted her briefcase to her other shoulder. God,

she ached all over. “Still at it, are they?”

“Either that or they’re up there sitting around drinking beer and

watching television.”

Michael laughed. “I sincerely doubt it. You know they’d rather

talk shop than anything else.” She touched Sandy’s shoulder. “Come on

upstairs. I’ll make some tea.”

“Oh,” Sandy said quickly, “that’s okay. I’m good here.”

“I’d like the company, and this is perfect timing. I was going to

call you tomorrow.” Michael knew that Sandy was sensitive about

her history on the streets, despite being proud and self-sufficient and

incredibly brave. Michael was fond of the young woman and admired

her. The last thing she wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

• 33 •

RADclY fFe

Sandy looked concerned. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Michael said, gently grasping Sandy’s hand. “Come

upstairs. I’ll tell you.”

“Okay, sure.” Sandy fell into step with her, nervously smiling, her

hand still in Michael’s.

v

Across the street and six floors up, Angelo DeVito stood at the

darkened window, his video camera trained on the building he was

supposed to be watching. He absently reached down and rearranged his

crotch while he filmed the two blonde babes as they cozied up together.

The one he’d first taken for a hot little whore seemed to know the tall

leggy one with the shoulder-length hair and movie star face. Man, he’d

love to see them get it on for real. From what he understood about the

targets, he just might get the chance. He flicked off the camera when the

women disappeared inside hand in hand, and noted the time to mark the

spot on the tape and the license number of the car. Then he settled in the

chair in front of the window to wait.

• 34 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER ThREE

Excuse me,” Sandy said to Michael when her phone rang out

the melody to “I Kissed a Girl.” She fished it out of her jacket

pocket and swiveled away from the breakfast bar where they’d been

drinking tea and talking.

“Hi, babe,” Dell said. “I’m at Sloan’s. We’re just wrapping up, but

I’ll be a little while yet. You anywhere nearby?”

“Like upstairs?”

“Oh hey, that’s good.” Dell didn’t sound all that glad.

“What’s up?”

“The lieutenant is here. She wants to talk to you.”

“In person? Now?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be down in a few.” Sandy disconnected and shrugged at

Michael. “Sorry. Frye wants me.”

“Of course. I understand. Are you still…helping out?” Michael

hesitated. “You don’t have to tell me, if you can’t.”

“I don’t think it’s a secret. I mean, Sloan probably tells you

everything, right?”

Michael smiled, but said nothing.

“Dell tells me stuff. Not much. She’s really all about the rules

when it comes to the cop stuff.” Sandy grinned. “She’s loosened up

some since she’s been hanging out with Jasmine, though.”

“Sloan doesn’t like to talk about her work very much either,”

Michael said. “In fact, when she’s involved in a case, she pretty much

forgets to eat, sleep, or do much of anything else except work.”

“That worries you, huh?”

• 35 •

RADclY fFe

“Oh,” Michael said quickly. “I didn’t mean… She’s intense. I fell

in love with her because of how focused she is, how driven. How…”

She blushed. “Passionate.”

“I get that part all right.” Sandy laughed. “Any girl with a beating

heart gets that part about Sloan.”

“Apparently.” Michael laughed. “I had to get used to that pretty

quickly. Fortunately I’m not really the jealous type.”

“I am.”

“I don’t think you have much to worry about from what I can see,”

Michael said softly.

“I didn’t know I was—jealous that way. Until her.” Sandy

shrugged. “Dell is the first one who ever mattered, you know.”

Michael nodded. “I do know. Exactly.”

Sandy grinned. She had girlfriends, sort of. Girls she hung with

on the street. Girls she looked out for and who looked out for her. But

mostly they talked about what they needed to know to get by—which

johns to avoid and which pimps were quick with their hands and which

cops wanted favors. And the rare ones, like Frye, who didn’t. But she’d

never talked to any of them about Dell. About being with her. About

having someone of her own. “I should go. Frye gets cranky if you keep

her waiting.”

“Does she now.” Michael chuckled. “She’s never been anything

except completely chivalrous with me.”

They eyed one another for a few seconds, and then burst out

laughing together. Michael draped her arm around Sandy’s shoulder

and walked her toward the door.

“You’ll think about what I said?”

“I will. I should talk to Dell, you know?”

“Absolutely. Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks,” Sandy said, feeling so much more than gratitude but

not quite knowing what to say.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Michael said gently. “We’re

friends.”

“Yeah,” Sandy said with a sense of wonder as she stepped into the

elevator. “We are.”

v

• 36 •

Justice for All

“Hiya, Frye,” Sandy said as she plopped into a chair across the

table from Rebecca in the conference room. On her way through the

main room she’d seen Dell bent over a computer with Jason and Sloan,

but Frye was alone. Frye never talked to her about street stuff in front

of others, especially not Dell. “You look like crap.”

“I’ve heard that two times too many today.”

“You okay or just playing macho cop?” Sandy didn’t add that

she’d been scared just about brainless when she’d heard that a cop had

been shot in a raid, because Dell had been in on the bust, and she’d

felt only a little less terrified when she’d learned it was Frye. Frye was

special in a crazy kind of way she couldn’t explain. Frye was a hard-ass and pain in the ass, but she’d never lied to Sandy about what she

wanted from her. Even back in the early days when Sandy was working

the streets for real and Frye squeezed her for information, she never

took advantage like some cops. Frye always paid and treated her like

she mattered. She was the first person who ever had.

“I’m okay enough,” Rebecca said. “Everything quiet?”

“As far as I know.” Sandy picked at a chip on the red polish on

her thumbnail. “I haven’t been out since things went down the other

night. I wasn’t sure—” She glanced through the open door in Dell’s

direction, but Dell was busy tapping away at a computer. Dell always

got hinky when she was working for Frye. She liked that Dell worried

about her, but she didn’t want her to worry too much. She liked that

Dell got a little jealous. Okay, sometimes a lot jealous. She liked that

feeling of being special and cared about. But she would never make her

jealous on purpose. She’d played games to survive her whole life, and

she would never do it with Dell.

Rebecca stood. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Are you kidding me? You look like—”

“You said that already. Come on. We won’t go far.”

Sandy shook her head, but followed Frye to the elevator. Dell

looked over once as they walked through the room, then quickly back

to her keyboard. Sandy kept her distance while they rode down, aware

of the cameras everywhere. But once outside on the street, she looped

her arm through Frye’s without being invited.

When Frye gave her a raised eyebrow, she snapped, “You don’t

look that steady. I don’t want you falling into the street and getting run

• 37 •

RADclY fFe

over. I’ll never get any dinner, which is what I came here for to begin

with.”

“Let’s go to the deli around the corner,” Rebecca said, moving her

arm out of Sandy’s grasp to curl it around her shoulder. “Why the hell

don’t you ever dress for the weather? You’re shivering.”

“I’m used to it.”

“That’s not what your body is saying.”

“I’m in charge of my body,” Sandy said flatly.

Rebecca said nothing. A few minutes later they slipped into a

greasy spoon on the corner of Market and Fourth that smelled like fried

onions, strong coffee, and tomato sauce. They claimed a booth at the

back and a waitress asked them what they wanted, not bothering to

offer them menus. Rebecca ordered a sandwich and coffee, then thought

better of the coffee and switched to water. She still had a headache and

maybe the caffeine wasn’t such a good idea.

“Just a Bud,” Sandy said.

The waitress cocked her head at Rebecca and Rebecca nodded.

Sandy was legal in all the ways that counted. She’d proved herself

enough times to deserve a beer.

“So, what’s the deal,” Sandy asked.

“Things have changed,” Rebecca said. “We’ve put a crimp in the

supply line by exposing the trafficking operation down at the port. I’m

sure there’s plenty of those foreign girls still around, but my guess is

whoever is running them is going to be very cautious for a little while.

That means a lot more action is going to come to your friends.”

Sandy sipped the beer the waitress brought her. “Don’t you mean

me and my friends?”

“Not if you’re not hooking, which you aren’t. Right?”

“Jeez, don’t start sounding like Dell.”

Rebecca frowned. “Are you and Mitchell having problems about

that?”

“No,” Sandy said quickly, afraid that she might get Dell in trouble

somehow. “She’s just, you know…overprotective. Must be a cop

thing.”

“Must be.” Rebecca waited until the waitress slapped a heavy

white plate with a thick sandwich down on the table. She wasn’t really

hungry, but she couldn’t remember the last time she ate. She knew she

• 38 •

Justice for All

needed the food, so she forced herself to take a bite. “I want you to find

me a replacement.”

“For Dell?” Sandy said, her heart rising in her throat. Man, Dell

would lose her mind if Frye let her go.

“No,” Rebecca said in exasperation, trying not to shake her head

and make the pounding any worse. “For you.”

“Why? I’ve got the contacts, I like the money, and besides—you

know you can trust me.”

“Like I said, the situation is different now.”

Rebecca had thought long and hard about this while she’d been

lying in a hospital bed. Any reliable confidential informant was

invaluable, and Sandy was not only trustworthy, she was smart and

street savvy. She was as much a member of the team as any of them.

But she was also the least trained and probably the least capable of

taking care of herself. Rebecca had intentionally used her, put her at

risk, more than once. It was necessary because she needed Sandy to

get the job done, and the job was everything. The job had always been

everything, more important than her lovers, more important than her

life. But something had changed, and she wasn’t quite sure how or

what.

Six months ago, if Sandy had been hurt while gathering

information for her, she would’ve been angry. If Sandy had been killed,

she would’ve been saddened, hurt. And she would’ve hunted down

whoever had done it no matter how long it took. Because that was her

job, and Sandy was hers to protect. Now if Sandy got into trouble some

night, if she was hurt, Rebecca wasn’t sure she could live with it. She

knew Mitchell wouldn’t be able to. She closed her eyes and pinched

the bridge of her nose again. How the hell had she gotten this attached

to one of her CIs? And how did she end up with a cop on her team

involved with her CI, a prostitute no less? It was a recipe for disaster,

completely against protocol. Why hadn’t she put a stop to it? At times

like this, she thought maybe she still should.

“Look,” Sandy said, gripping Rebecca’s arm. “I’m careful. I’m

smart. And I’ve got friends out there. People I care about, just like you

care about Dell and Jason and Sloan. Hell. Even Lard Ass.”

“That’s Detective Watts to you,” Rebecca said, smothering a

smile. “I’ll look after your friends. That’s my job.”

• 39 •

RADclY fFe

“Yeah yeah. You’ll look after everyone. Sure. Look at you. You

are as gray as this floor.” Sandy pulled her phone out of her jacket

again. “I’m calling your lady to come and get you.”

Rebecca jerked upright and winced. “No! I’m heading home

soon.” She looked at her wrist and for the tenth time that afternoon

remembered she didn’t have her watch. Catherine must have taken it

home from the hospital when she’d been admitted, because it hadn’t

been with her personal effects. “What time is it?”

Sandy looked over her shoulder at a round-faced wall clock with a

faded Hershey’s ice cream logo hanging on the wall behind the counter.

“Almost six thirty.”

“Oh, Christ,” Rebecca whispered. Catherine would be home

any minute. She pulled money from her pocket and dropped it on the

counter. Thankfully, Catherine had made sure she had cash when she

left the hospital. “I’ve got to go. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“You’re not driving, are you?”

“No, Watts is my ride. He went back to headquarters to finish up

some paperwork. I’ll call him to pick me up outside of Sloan’s.”

Sandy jumped up and wrapped her arm around Rebecca’s waist

when Rebecca swayed. “Gimme your frickin’ phone and tell me his

number.”

“It’s number two on speed dial.” Rebecca didn’t resist the help.

She really did feel like crap.

v

“So,” Vincent asked when Angelo picked up the phone. “You

doing anything over there besides pulling your crank?”

“Hell, yeah.” Angelo raised his left shoulder to hold the phone

against his ear while he handled the video camera. “Are you sure you

don’t have me watching some kind of whorehouse? There’s more action

going on in that building than in some of our joints.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like girls coming and going. Real lookers and real friendly-like.

Some of them are dykes for sure.”

“Heard that. You getting ID?”

“They’re not wearing name tags, but I’ve shot some great footage.

Real boner material.”

• 40 •

Justice for All

“Just keep it in your pants. The boss wants to know who’s shacked

up with who.”

“There’s some little blonde who looks like she’s servicing the

whole team. She has to know plenty. We ought to put one of the boys

on her.”

“Don’t worry. The boys are gonna be plenty busy soon. See you in

the morning, and you better have more than tits and ass on film.”

“Believe me, I’ve got plenty.” Angelo dropped the cell phone on

the windowsill and zoomed in on the face of a tall, chiseled blonde in

casual clothing who climbed into the passenger side of a Crown Vic.

Had to be a cop. When the car pulled away, the skinny little whore

in the red leather jacket went back into the building. Man, she was a

busy little beaver. He settled back into his chair and laughed at his own

joke.

v

“Hey, babe,” Dell said as Sandy leaned against her back and

wrapped her arms around her from behind. She shivered when Sandy

kissed the side of her neck. Technically, she wasn’t on duty, but she was

scanning shipping manifests for Jason, looking for discrepancies that

might indicate other deliveries of girls from Eastern Europe. “I’m sort

of working here.”

“And I’m sort of hungry. Maybe a few other things too.”

Dell grinned, closed the file she was working on, and swirled her

chair around. “Yeah? Already?”

Sandy let out an uncharacteristic squeal as Dell pulled her down

into her lap and nuzzled her neck. “Jesus, Dell,” she snapped, pushing

her away. “What if Sloan walks in?”

“She won’t care.”

“Well, Frye would kick your ass.”

Dell stiffened. “She’s still here?”

“No. Watts is taking her home. She shouldn’t have been here at all

this afternoon. What’s wrong with the bunch of you?”

“She’s the boss. She calls the shots.”

Sandy snorted. “Are you gonna take me somewhere for dinner or

do I have to go by myself?”

“I’m done here for now. Take off your jacket.”

• 41 •

RADclY fFe

Sandy punched her. “I said not here. Geez, rookie. What’s wrong

with you?”

Dell rose, pulled her leather jacket off the back of a nearby chair,

and held it out.

“I don’t want your jacket,” Sandy said.

“You do if you want a ride. You’ll freeze in what you’re wearing.”

Dell waited. “Besides, it turns me on when you wear my clothes.”

Sandy rolled her eyes, but she took off her skimpy vinyl number

and accepted the black leather jacket Dell slung around her shoulders.

“What about you?”

“You’ll figure out some way to keep me warm.”

“If you’re lucky.” Sandy slowly ran the tip of her tongue over her

bottom lip.

“I’m always lucky.” Dell kissed her quickly and held up five

fingers as she started away. “See you downstairs.”

When Dell pulled up in front of the building on her Ducati, Sandy

climbed on behind her, leaving the heavy leather jacket unzipped. It

enclosed them like a tent as she wrapped her arms around Dell’s waist.

The only thing between her breasts and Dell’s back was her thin bra and

Dell’s T-shirt. Sandy’s nipples got hard.

“I’m not so hungry anymore,” she breathed, licking the rim of

Dell’s ear. “Maybe we should just go home.”

Dell grabbed one of Sandy’s hands and cupped it in her crotch.

“We’ll pick up some takeout and eat it in bed. Later.”

Sandy laughed and squeezed until Dell yanked her hand away.

“Much later.”

v

Angelo craned his neck to watch as the motorcycle roared down

the street. Then he shut off his video camera. “Gotcha.”

• 42 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER FOUR

Catherine slowed as she turned the corner onto her block, a

five-minute walk from the hospital. Streetlights in her West

Philadelphia neighborhood of Victorian twins were few and far between,

making visibility a challenge, but she thought she recognized the dingy

gray Crown Victoria idling at the curb in front of her house. She told

herself she was imagining things. It couldn’t possibly be a departmental

vehicle, and the hulking form behind the wheel couldn’t possibly be

William Watts. It was almost 7:00 p.m. and Rebecca must have been

home hours ago. William wouldn’t be coming by to discuss business at

this hour. He knew Rebecca needed more recovery time.

Catherine took a few steps, chiding herself for her overactive

imagination. She’d barely slept in the last few days and had been

stressed and apprehensive in the weeks leading up to the raid. It didn’t

matter that she knew Rebecca was superb at her job, or that the odds of

a mortal injury were low. She didn’t believe in statistics, not where the

woman she loved was concerned. So she’d worried and tried to keep

her fear from distracting Rebecca. Because Rebecca would do what

Rebecca would do, and she needed all of her mind on the job to do it

safely. Then Catherine had opened the door in the middle of the night to

find Sloan on the porch, and for one terrifying second the rest of her life

gaped empty and barren before her. Rational thought or even the reality

of Rebecca beside her could not mitigate the agony of that moment. It

would haunt her forever.

Let it go, she thought, although she suspected that was one battle

she wouldn’t win.

Then Rebecca climbed out of the passenger side of the sedan.

• 43 •

RADclY fFe

She didn’t notice Catherine but walked slowly up to the house,

obviously exhausted. For a few seconds, Catherine hovered on the verge

of turning and walking away, she was that angry. Not only angry. Hurt.

At times like these, being a psychiatrist was not the least bit helpful.

It didn’t matter that she knew what she should do, what she should

say, what might help defuse the emotional situation. It didn’t matter

that she understood some of the things that drove Rebecca to drive

herself. At this moment, she didn’t care about all the things she knew or

sympathized with. She was hurt and disappointed and frightened, and

thinking her way through this was not going to be easy.

She waited until the Crown Victoria pulled away because she didn’t

want Watts to witness anything personal between her and Rebecca.

Rebecca would hate for a colleague to get a glimpse of their private

life, and Catherine was far too personally reserved to allow it either.

Rebecca, moving at only a fraction of her normal pace, had just reached

the landing in front of the door when Catherine fished her house keys

from her briefcase and climbed the four broad marble stairs to reach

around her.

“Are you just coming home?” Catherine fitted her key into the

lock.

“Yes, I—”

“Don’t,” Catherine said softly. “I’m not quite ready to hear it just

yet.”

Rebecca hesitated on the threshold. “I can call Watts. Have him

come back and take me to my apartment.”

Catherine looked back at her for a second. “Rebecca, I’m upset.”

She deposited her briefcase on the parson’s bench in the foyer and

shrugged out of her coat. “You look exhausted.”

“I didn’t do—”

Catherine shook her head. “Now is not the right time to talk about

this, but what’s happening is part of being together. Come inside.”

“I hate this,” Rebecca said.

“I know. So do I. Are you hungry or do you want to go straight to

bed?”

“I’m not hungry, but you must be. I’d like to sit in the kitchen with

you while you have something to eat.”

Catherine took her hand. “Come on, then.”

• 44 •

Justice for All

v

Kratos Zamora poured another glass of Bollinger Blanc de Noirs

and leaned across the table in the private dining alcove to light the

redhead’s cigarette. He enjoyed watching her slowly exhale a thin

stream of fragrant smoke. Even in the candlelight he could make out the

emerald tones of her eyes. Her shoulder-length curls were the color of

a summer sunset over the ocean, the same blood-red that often heralded

a storm. She regarded him with a hint of amusement, but rather than

be annoyed, he was intrigued. Women usually fawned or primped or

seduced, but they never laughed at him. Or challenged.

“You think very highly of my talents,” she said.

“You’ve never disappointed me.” Kratos never ate at the same

restaurant twice in a row, and there were half a dozen private dining

areas like this one in the restaurant. The likelihood that a listening

device had been planted was slim, but his men had swept the space

earlier, and he felt secure discussing business here.

Talia raised an eyebrow. A smile played over her perfect lips.

Kratos shrugged. “Where business is concerned.” He’d tried to

seduce her once, and she’d refused. He’d been surprised and that was

rare. He wasn’t deluded enough to believe women were drawn to him

rather than his power and wealth, but he was used to getting what he

wanted. This woman had merely said no, but when she refused she’d

held his eyes in a way few men dared, and he understood that persisting

would be to no avail.

“Five years ago almost no one had the skill to detect electronic

intrusion. That’s no longer the case.” Talia tapped the delicate ash

against the edge of a crystal ashtray and it shattered into powdery

shards. “What you ask is difficult.”

“But not impossible.” Kratos watched her maroon-tinted lips

close deliberately around the end of the cigarette. Her mouth tightened

slightly as she inhaled and her flawless high-boned cheeks hollowed.

His erection throbbed, and he enjoyed the sensation, but didn’t let the

pleasure distract him. “Disrupt the communications and you create

chaos. Chaos leads to inefficiency and distrust.”

“What about the new investigative division at One Police Plaza?”

she asked. “How much of a threat are they?”

• 45 •

RADclY fFe

“My friends there tell me that the unit is barely functional. I doubt

there is any danger from that direction.”

“And yet you said our plant inside City Hall was identified. That

took a sophisticated cyberinvestigation.”

Kratos waved a hand. “He was careless.”

He was not about to admit his concern that the HPCU might be

able to trace the man they’d had inside back to him. Besides, he was

always careful to keep several layers of people between himself and

culpability. If by some miracle the authorities were able to determine

who had placed the spyware in the PPD computer systems, they would

not come up with his name. But he doubted that was a possibility.

Talia regarded him through narrowed eyes as the smoke curled

in the air between them. “Tapping into computer files is different than

actively sabotaging a police communications network. The government

no longer takes cyberterrorism lightly.”

“Of course,” Kratos said. “And your payment will reflect the

risk.”

“Three hundred thousand,” Talia said evenly. “Fifty percent to be

wired immediately to my account.”

Kratos nodded.

“I need everything you can tell me about the principals. Can you

be certain of your sources?”

“My family came to this city almost a hundred years ago.

Politicians and lawmen have always been our friends. Nothing has

changed, it’s only more subtle.” Kratos handed her a piece of paper

folded lengthwise and covered in single-spaced typing. “The names

and background briefs.”

Talia took the paper and slipped it into her purse. “Which one is

my target?”

“Her name is JT Sloan.”

v

The first thing Sloan saw when she stepped off the elevator into

the loft was Michael curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace,

a book on her lap and the firelight casting her face in a soft, warm

glow. She wore a loose white shirt and silky black slacks, and she was

barefoot, her legs drawn up beneath her. When she turned in Sloan’s

• 46 •

Justice for All

direction and smiled, Sloan’s heart stutter-stepped in her chest. Michael

was the calm center of her universe, solid ground in the surging seas of

her unrest and barely contained anger. She didn’t deserve her, and she

knew it.

“Hi, baby,” Sloan said, her throat tight.

Michael patted the couch beside her. “Come sit down and tell me

about your day.”

“Sorry I’m so late.”

“You don’t have a curfew. Did you eat?”

Sloan shook her head as she dropped onto the sofa next to Michael.

When Michael put her book aside and shifted to lean against her, Sloan

drew her close and kissed her. “Do potato chips count?”

“I’m not answering that.” Michael stroked Sloan’s face. “There’s

a plate with chicken and pasta in the kitchen. It should still be warm.”

“How was your day?”

“I asked you first,” Michael teased.

“Routine.” Sloan rested her chin against the top of Michael’s

head. Michael’s hair was fragrant, her body supple, her breath warm

against Sloan’s throat. Sloan saw herself stretched out in a green glade

in the warm sunshine, a breeze ruffling the leaves overhead and teasing

over her sweat-damp skin. She caught her breath as Michael eased her

T-shirt from her jeans and slid a hand underneath. The breeze carried a

hint of distant thunder now and Sloan tensed.

“Your days are never routine,” Michael murmured.

“How was yours?”

“Tiring but good.” Michael kissed the hollow of Sloan’s throat,

then the side of her neck, then just below her ear. She laughed softly

when Sloan shivered. “I had a nice talk with Sandy, and then I took a

nap while I was waiting for you.”

“That sounds…nice.” Sloan’s voice was strained. Michael, for

all her sophisticated elegance, could seduce her with the barest touch

of her fingers, a mere brush of her lips. Sloan bent to her will as a

seedling bends to the sun, trembling and needy. She knew with absolute

certainty that all her strength was a ruse, a handful of sand that would

slip through her fingers and disappear on the wind without Michael by

her side. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not tired now.” Michael pressed more tightly against Sloan,

continuing to kiss the side of her jaw and her neck. She let her fingertips

• 47 •

RADclY fFe

dance over Sloan’s breasts and up and down her abdomen before skating

lower and streaking beneath the top of her jeans. “What, darling?” she

asked, hearing a groan.

“I’m not hungry either.” Sloan clasped the back of her neck,

tilting Michael’s head so she could slant her mouth across Michael’s.

Michael opened to her, and as they kissed, Sloan groaned again, lost

in the seductive warmth of Michael’s mouth, a steady pulse of desire

unfurling in her depths.

“You’re going to be busy with another case soon, aren’t you?”

Michael pushed Sloan down on the couch and stretched out on top of

her, fitting one leg between Sloan’s thighs. She slid her hand up to cup

Sloan’s breast. “With Rebecca back?”

“Work?” Sloan gasped, opening the buttons on Michael’s shirt

with one hand while she caressed her ass with the other. Michael made

it impossible for her to think. She was the only one who could do that.

“You want to talk about work?”

Michael kissed the tip of Sloan’s chin, then her mouth. “No. I

want you all to myself for as long as I can have you.”

“I’m all yours,” Sloan whispered, never meaning anything more

in her life.

v

“Babe? You want that last French fry?” Dell reached over Sandy’s

prone body and scooped the fry in question from the Styrofoam

container on top of the bedside table.

Beneath her, Sandy pushed her butt up firmly into Dell’s crotch.

Dell paused, her arm extended and the French fry forgotten. Sandy

had nearly made her come on the ride home on her Ducati, and once

they reached the apartment they shared south of Bainbridge, Sandy

had finished the job. Twice. In between orgasms and takeout, Dell had

reciprocated, plus an extra just because it made her feel ten feet tall

to hear Sandy cry out her name when she climaxed. Now her clit was

swollen and satisfyingly sore and she’d thought they were done. Or

maybe not.

She dropped the French fry back in the box, let her weight settle

on Sandy’s back, and then bit and sucked a spot in the curve of her

shoulder until Sandy squirmed under her. “Still horny?”

• 48 •

Justice for All

“Maybe,” Sandy murmured, her face burrowed in the pillow.

“What time is it?”

“About midnight.” Dell eased off to one side and stroked the

inside of Sandy’s thigh. She cupped her sex from behind and squeezed

gently, slowly circling Sandy’s clitoris with the tip of one finger. Sandy

was hot and wet. For her. Lust shot through Dell like a fever and she

struggled not to slide inside her right away. Sandy liked it hard and fast,

but slow and teasing was good sometimes too. It’s just that Dell had a

hard time keeping her head when she was excited, and Sandy always

excited her. She rubbed the hard prominence at the apex of Sandy’s

center and Sandy made a little sound, halfway between a whimper and

a purr. Dell thought her head might explode, but she kept the pressure

light and languid. Sandy’s hand clutched the pillow, and just that little

movement made Dell’s clit pound. She kissed Sandy’s cheek, then the

corner of her mouth. “I love you.”

“Don’t make me come,” Sandy whispered. She groped behind her,

grabbing Dell’s hand when she found it. “I don’t want to come until you

fuck me.”

Dell groaned, pressing her forehead to the back of Sandy’s

shoulder as she ground against Sandy’s ass. She kept up the slow steady

massage, careful not to push Sandy over the edge, but she couldn’t

control her own runaway clit. “Fuck, babe. I’m gonna come again.”

Sandy laughed, her voice shaking. “Let it go, baby.”

“Oh man,” Dell moaned, her stomach turning somersaults

as a cannon went off inside her. She panted against Sandy’s back,

openmouthed and trembling like a first-timer. Beneath her, Sandy

twisted, pushing Dell away until she could roll onto her back. Then she

grabbed Dell’s hand and pushed it between her legs.

“You’re up, rookie,” she breathed into Dell’s ear. “Now fuck me

until I come.”

And just like that, Dell felt the power surge through her. She braced

herself on one arm and filled Sandy with her fingers. Then she kissed

her, stroking inside her mouth to the rhythm of her thrusts between

her legs. She used her thumb to work Sandy’s clit because she knew

Sandy came harder that way. Distantly she felt Sandy’s hands dig into

her shoulders, her nails scratching in anxious circles. Sandy tightened

around her fingers, body arching into a tight bow. Dell broke their kiss

so Sandy could breathe.

• 49 •

RADclY fFe

“Oh God, Dell,” Sandy cried. “Baby, baby, I’m coming so hard.”

Her eyes slammed shut as her face twisted in pleasure, but Dell

kept her eyes open, drinking her in, filling her mind and body with the

sights and sound and sensation. Sandy was so beautiful, so open and

vulnerable and trusting in that moment that Dell wanted to cry. She kept

going until Sandy collapsed bonelessly onto the bed, her arms flopping

out to her sides, her breath fluttering out on a long, contented moan.

Dell stopped thrusting and lightly caressed Sandy’s still turgid clitoris.

“Get your hands away from me,” Sandy muttered.

Dell laughed and kissed her nipple.

Sandy swatted at her head. “I mean it. Off. No mouth either.”

“You said you wanted—”

“Shut up, Dell.” Sandy stroked the back of Dell’s head, then yanked

on her hair. “Who said you could get off by yourself like that?”

Dell leaned on her elbow and pulled the sheet up to their waists. “I

can’t help it if you get me so excited I practically pop.”

“Geez, what are you? Fourteen?”

“Only where you’re concerned.”

“Better remember that,” Sandy said, her expression suddenly

serious.

“I remember, babe,” Dell said just as seriously. As part of her cover,

she had to hang out in strip clubs and get friendly with the working

girls. Sometimes acting friendly meant getting a little physical. She’d

had a hard time at first not responding to the foreplay, and Sandy knew

it. It wasn’t that she wanted to get turned on by anyone except Sandy,

but the adrenaline rush of being undercover coupled with the physical

stimulation was arousing. “I’ve got a handle on it now.”

“Uh-huh.” Sandy wrapped one leg around the back of Dell’s

thigh and curled more tightly into her embrace. “You’re not going out

tonight, are you?”

“Not tonight. I have to call the guys tomorrow to set something

up. Probably tomorrow night.”

“Me too,” Sandy said sleepily.

Dell wanted to argue about that, but not now. Now she just wanted

to hold her. She settled against the pillow, Sandy in her arms, and closed

her eyes. “Love you.”

“Yeah, me too, rookie.” Sandy sighed. “Michael offered me a

job.”

• 50 •

Justice for All

“Yeah?” Dell asked carefully, suddenly wide-awake. “What did

you say?”

“That I’d think about it.”

“That’s good.” Dell’s heart did a little dance at the thought of

Sandy being off the streets and tucked away somewhere safe. But the

decision was Sandy’s, and Dell vowed not to push.

“Yeah, I guess.” Sandy sighed again. “I’m not so sure.”

“Go to sleep, baby. We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah?”

Dell kissed her. “Promise.”

• 51 •

• 52 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER FIvE

I didn’t know Rebecca was planning on going to work,”

Catherine said to Watts.

The doorbell had chimed at seven forty-five just as she was

pouring the morning coffee. She’d rearranged her early-morning patient

hours so that she could be home with Rebecca on her first day out of

the hospital. Apparently, she was the only one who thought her lover

needed a few days to recuperate.

“Sorry, Doc.” Watts quickly found something fascinating to study

on the ceiling. “The Loo isn’t answering her pager or cell phone, so I

figured I’d just swing by.”

“Her cell phone is missing. I think her pager’s in a drawer

somewhere. They gave it to me at the hospital with the rest of her things.”

Except her weapon. They hadn’t given her Rebecca’s shoulder harness

and gun. She imagined those were somewhere at police headquarters

and, seeing Watts at the door, she was sure Rebecca would be wearing

them before the day was out.

“Right. I would’ve used a landline, but I thought maybe you’d be

sleeping.”

Catherine laughed wryly. “Usually I’m gone by now.” She held

the door wide, glad that she was wearing a loose long-sleeved pullover

and cotton pants rather than her normal sleepwear. “Come in, William.

Have some coffee. I’ll tell Rebecca you’re here.”

“I can wait in the car.” Watts halted just inside the door. “Uh…

maybe I’ll just come back—” He broke off, his attention riveted across

the room.

Rebecca came downstairs into the living room, wearing faded

• 53 •

RADclY fFe

chinos and an open-collared shirt, toweling her hair as she walked. She

slowed when she saw Watts. “Problem?”

“Sorry, Loo. I got my signals crossed. The captain wants us in his

office, and I thought…” He glanced at Catherine and started to back out

onto the porch. “I’ll fill you in later.”

Catherine turned to Rebecca. “Are you going in?”

“I thought this afternoon.” Rebecca glanced at Watts. “Is it

urgent?”

He held up his hands and shrugged. “Henry called me. Said he

wanted us in his office first thing. I’m just the messenger, Loo. I’ll tell

him I couldn’t reach you.”

“William,” Catherine said, “go get that coffee. Rebecca and I just

need a few minutes.”

Watts glanced at Rebecca, who nodded, and he hurried toward the

kitchen.

“It didn’t occur to me you were planning on going back to work

today,” Catherine said as she walked to the far side of the living room.

She stopped in front of the French doors that opened onto the

small, stone-walled backyard. Rebecca came up beside her. Catherine

could smell the woodsy tang of her cologne and thought of all the nights

she had gone to sleep alone with only a hint of Rebecca’s fragrance for

company. She pushed the thought away. She needed to deal with now.

“I meant to talk to you about it last night,” Rebecca said, “but I

fell asleep. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault. You needed to sleep.” Catherine watched

the fallen leaves, only shriveled brown ghosts of their former gloriously

colored selves, swirl across the gray flagstones on the small patio.

Winter was right around the corner.

“I didn’t realize you’d taken the morning off.” Rebecca brushed

her fingertips across Catherine’s shoulder.

“I forgot to tell you.” Catherine shook her head. “It seems we’re

both guilty of assumptions.”

Rebecca shoved a hand through her hair and made an exasperated

sound. “Could we be any more civil?” She grasped Catherine’s

shoulders and gently pulled her around until they were face-to-face. “I

should have come straight home yesterday. Or at least I should’ve told

you where I was going. It was thoughtless of me. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you?” Catherine waved a hand. “Not the call me part,

• 54 •

Justice for All

but why didn’t you come home? What was so important that you had to

go straight from the hospital to work?”

“I’d been out of the loop for a couple of days and I had no idea

what was going on with the operation,” Rebecca said, searching for the

right words. “It felt like part of my life had dropped into a black hole. I

just wanted to get reconnected.”

“Reconnected.” Catherine tried not to be hurt at Rebecca choosing

her work over their relationship. She tried to imagine how she would

feel if she were suddenly unable to go to the hospital and keep her

patient appointments. She’d be concerned over not taking care of

her responsibilities, and she’d be anxious until she had arranged for

someone else to cover for her. But she wouldn’t feel as if a piece of her

life were missing. But then, she was not Rebecca.

“You’re wrong about that,” Rebecca whispered.

“What?” Catherine asked, startled from her internal analysis.

“The job isn’t more important to me than being with you.”

And there it was—what she feared most, even though she was

embarrassed to admit it. That she would never be first in anyone’s life.

That just as the child she’d been—of two people who loved her, but

had loved each other more—she would always be waiting to be seen.

Catherine sighed. Rebecca’s words reminded her of why she had fallen

in love with her, despite how hard some parts of being with her could

be—moments just like this, when Rebecca saw her so clearly, even

more clearly than she could see herself, and gave her the very thing

she needed most. The certainty that she was loved. She believed in

Rebecca’s love even when Rebecca’s life, Rebecca’s needs, hurt and

frightened her.

“I’m terribly in love with you,” Catherine whispered. “And I need

you so much.”

Shifting her hands from Catherine’s shoulders into her hair,

Rebecca cradled Catherine’s head tenderly as she kissed her. “I’m an

idiot. When I hurt you like this I want to shoot myself.”

Catherine pressed her fingers to Rebecca’s mouth. “Don’t even

joke.”

“I’m not joking. You’re the best thing in my life. The best thing

that’s ever happened to me, or ever will. I don’t mean to make you

unhappy. I don’t mean to frighten you.”

“I know that. In my heart, I know that. And that truly is what’s

• 55 •

RADclY fFe

most important to me.” Catherine wrapped her arms around Rebecca’s

waist and kissed the side of her neck. “But you must promise me that

you’ll stop and think. And remember that you’re not indestructible.”

“When I went in yesterday, I was only planning to sit at a desk,”

Rebecca said. “That’s what I’m still planning on doing.”

Catherine fixed her with an intense stare. “Are you going to tell

me the only thing you did yesterday was sit with your feet propped up

somewhere?”

Rebecca looked away. “I went for a very short walk with Sandy.”

“Sandy?” Catherine shook her head. “Sandy is a remarkable young

woman, but I would rather have William or Sloan or Dellon protecting

you.”

“I don’t need them protecting me. I’m their boss.”

“Yes, darling, you are. And when you’re a hundred percent, there’s

no one better qualified. But you’re not a hundred percent. Not quite.”

Begrudgingly, Rebecca nodded. “And that’s why I’m going to sit

my ass at a desk. All right?”

“Can I ask William to be sure that you do?”

Rebecca’s eyes shifted from their ordinary icy cool to blue flame.

“Hell, no.”

Catherine laughed softly. “I had to try.”

“Are you also trying to make my blood pressure go up?” Rebecca

teased, tightening her grip and skating her lips along the edge of

Catherine’s jaw. “Because if that’s your goal, I can think of more

pleasurable ways to achieve it.”

“Don’t play with me, darling,” Catherine whispered. “Because

we don’t have time and we have instructions not to make love,

remember?”

Rebecca growled. “Like that’s happening.”

“No.” Catherine eased away. “We’re not. Not until Ali says we

can.”“You can’t be serious. I feel fine.” Rebecca had the sudden urge

to drag Catherine upstairs and show her just how fine she really felt.

She was willing to take a backseat at work for a while, but she’d be

damned if she’d keep from touching Catherine. Not when she needed

to be sure Catherine understood just how essential she was. Maybe,

Rebecca thought, she didn’t always have the right words, and maybe

she was selfish most of the time, but when they made love, she came as

• 56 •

Justice for All

close as she ever could to showing Catherine how much she loved her.

“And I want you.”

“Go talk to William.” Catherine caressed Rebecca’s face. “No

coffee.”

“Jesus,” Rebecca muttered under her breath. “No coffee, no work,

no sex. I might as well have stayed in the hospital.”

“I’m not going to say I agree, but I do.” Catherine clasped

Rebecca’s hand and kissed the back of her fingers. “So stop grumbling.

Call me later?”

“I will.”

“Go then, Detective,” Catherine murmured, because she had to let

her go. Rebecca was many things, but first and always a cop.

v

Rebecca buckled her seat belt as Watts pulled away from the

curb.

After a few seconds of silence, he said, “So I guess you got your

balls busted for going back to work, huh?”

Rebecca slowly turned her head. “Sorry?”

“Nothing, Loo,” Watts said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Didn’t say a thing.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Despite rush-hour traffic, Watts made it across town in record

time and pulled into the parking lot at One Police Plaza at a little past

8:30. They walked across the parking lot to a side door, avoiding the

main lobby that serviced the administrative offices. A back elevator

took them to the third floor. Since the formation of the HPCU, Rebecca

reported directly to Captain John Henry, one of the few administrators

she liked and respected. A former street cop who had worked his way

up through the ranks, he gave her as much room as he could to run her

unit the way she wanted. As she and Watts wended their way through a

jumble of desks assigned to detectives from homicide, vice, and special

crimes, Rebecca nodded and muttered her thanks to the colleagues who

congratulated her on the recent successful raid or asked after her health.

At that hour of the morning, most of the desks were occupied with

men and women reviewing reports, organizing case files for court, and

planning the day’s work. She disliked fanfare for just doing her job,

• 57 •

RADclY fFe

and she definitely didn’t want to dwell on almost taking a bullet in the

face.

Henry’s door was open a few inches. With a sigh of relief, she

rapped and a deep voice inquired, “Yes?”

“Frye and Watts, Captain.”

“Come in and close the door.”

Rebecca and Watts entered and remained standing until Captain

Henry waved them to a couple of straight-backed chairs in front of

his desk. As usual, he wore a crisp white shirt, subdued tie, and dark

jacket, and sat ramrod straight, his smooth mahogany features giving no

clue as to his thoughts. Only the sharp glint in his dark chocolate eyes

revealed his irritation. That and the early-morning summons confirmed

Rebecca’s suspicions that she was about to hear bad news.

“I got a wake-up call from Agent Clark this morning,” Henry

said.

Watts uttered an insult directed at Clark’s parentage just low

enough so that Henry wouldn’t be able to hear. Rebecca managed to

contain her own oath. Avery Clark was a federal Justice Department

agent who managed to show up just in time to claim jurisdiction every

time she and her team made an arrest. They’d been ordered from the

brass on high to cooperate with him. Unfortunately, no one had told

Avery that teamwork was a two-way street.

“What does he want now?” Rebecca asked.

“He wants us to know he appreciates the HPCU’s expertise, and

he knew there were things we could accomplish that he couldn’t.”

Beside her, Watts snorted. Rebecca shook her head. “He doesn’t

pay compliments without a price.”

Henry nodded. “My guess is his resources are stretched thin, and

he needs to ride our coattails as long as he can. He figures that we have

the best chance of tying the sex slavery business to the local crime

syndicate. If we can prove that they’re taking these girls across state

lines for purposes of prostitution, the federal case gets a lot stronger.”

“He wants us to make his case for him,” Watts grumbled. “Just

like old times.”

“Clark has a point,” Henry said. “The best shot at finding the

people behind the trafficking operation is to uncover the link to the

local crime organization.”

• 58 •

Justice for All

“That means we have to get someone deep inside,” Rebecca said.

“That kind of undercover operation takes a lot of time to set up. And the

Zamoras are going to be looking for a plant, especially after Jimmy.”

Running an operative undercover was one of the most frustrating

jobs someone in Rebecca’s position could have. She had to put her

people in danger and could do very little to protect them. She didn’t like

it. Jimmy Hogan had managed to infiltrate the Zamora organization and

he’d turned up dead. Undercover cops knew the risks, and often thrived

on the constant stress and adrenaline high, but Zamora knew he was a

target. The timing was all wrong.

“We’ve already got someone inside his organization,” Captain

Henry said. “Courtesy of Avery Clark.”

“Uh-oh,” Watts said. “I’m starting to feel like there’s a dick up

my ass.”

Henry pursed his lips. “Thank you for that personal revelation,

Detective Watts.”

Watts grunted. “Fucking Clark.”

“If the organzied crime unit has an undercover agent inside the

Zamora family, why are we just hearing about it?” Rebecca asked.

Interdepartmental communications weren’t always seamless and cops

could get territorial, but her team had been poking around the edges of

the Zamora organization for long enough that someone in OCU would

have either waved them off or filled them in by now. Something wasn’t

adding up. And that something had to be Avery Clark’s doing. When

she’d woken up that morning, her headache had receded to a low-level

throbbing. Just thinking about Clark interfering in her investigation, yet

again, made her eyes ache.

“What aren’t I seeing here, Captain?” Rebecca asked.

Henry rose and carried a file folder with him around to the front

of his desk. Opening it toward Watts and Rebecca, he displayed several

typed pages and a glossy photograph clipped to the inside cover.

Rebecca leaned forward, recognizing the woman in the photograph at

the same time as Watts.

“Hey,” Watts said. “That’s our boy Mitch’s new squeeze.”

“Irina Guterov,” Henry elaborated. Anyone else would’ve leaned

against the edge of the desk, but he didn’t.

“She was picked up in the raid the other night,” Rebecca pointed

• 59 •

RADclY fFe

out. Irina had unknowingly led them to one of the houses where the

Russian girls were being held under armed guard. Mitch and Irina had

been about to have sex when Rebecca’s team burst in.

“Clark has convinced her to work for us,” the captain said. “She’s

our way inside.”

Rebecca replayed the details of the raid earlier that week. Mitch

and Irina had been in the back bedroom, and all the working girls had

been upstairs. The only other occupant of the house, the girls’ armed

captor, was dead. The girls had immediately been sequestered by

Immigration and would probably be deported, so no one in the crime

ring knew Mitch’s true identity.

“Does Irina know Mitchell is one of ours?” Rebecca asked.

“Clark says no, but she’ll have to be briefed since the whole plan

hinges on Mitchell being her contact.”

“That might fly,” Rebecca conceded. “Irina has worked with the

handlers who send these girls out on jobs. It’s one step further up the

ladder.” She took the folder from Henry and studied the photograph.

Even the stark black-and-white police photo couldn’t diminish Irina’s

haunting beauty. “The problem is, Zamora’s people have to know she

was in that house when we raided it.”

Henry nodded. “Her story is going to be that she and Mitch went

out the back window and they’ve been hiding until the heat died down.

No one knows we’ve had her under wraps.”

“Then she has to get back into circulation quickly. With Detective

Mitchell.”

“That’s why you’re here,” Henry said. “You need to get your boy

back on the streets with her. Tonight.”

“And we’re going to trust her, why?” Watts asked, his voice laced

with suspicion and anger. “Mitch is gonna be hanging out there by

himself. You can bet Clark isn’t going to lose any sleep over him.”

“According to Irina, her little sister is in a house just like the one

you took down the other night,” Henry said. “That’s part of the reason

Irina has been willing to work for these people to begin with. She’s

been trying to find her.”

“She says,” Watts snorted.

Henry lifted a shoulder. “Clark believes her.”

“And I’ve got a ten-inch pecker.”

• 60 •

Justice for All

“If her story’s true, she’s got motivation to play along. At least

until she finds her sister. Do we have an ID on the sister?”

“Not yet. The feds are searching the international databases, but

she’s probably not in any of them. Irina says she has a picture of her at

the club where she works,” Henry said.

“Ziggie’s,” Watts said.

“Right. Another reason we need her and Mitchell back there.”

“Where’s Irina now?” Rebecca asked.

“Clark’s got her stashed somewhere.” Henry’s face showed a

flicker of anger. “He doesn’t trust our security and won’t tell me where.

He’ll deliver her when we arrange a meet between her and Mitchell.”

Rebecca rubbed her forehead. “Do we have any room to negotiate

here? I’d like to talk to her before I put Mitchell in the middle of this.”

“Clark already took the plan to the top, and the brass like it. It’s

an election year, and it looks good whenever we take a bite out of

organized crime.”

“Let’s hope they don’t take a bite out of us first,” Watts muttered.

“They won’t,” Rebecca said flatly. It was her job to make sure that

didn’t happen.

• 61 •

• 62 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER SIx

Dell clenched her fists under the table, trying like hell not to

let anything she was feeling show on her face. Lieutenant

Frye was still talking, but she was having a hard time concentrating.

Her mind was going in a million directions at once. The lieutenant had

called them all together to brief them on a new operation, an undercover

operation targeting one of the biggest crime families in the country.

And she was the point man. Never mind that it was a career-making

assignment. What mattered to her was making the lieutenant proud.

Making her team proud. But hell—Irina. Jesus. She hadn’t figured to

see her again, although she’d tried to find her after the raid, just to be

sure she was all right. Now they’d be working together, pretending to

be a couple. Irina and Mitch, that is.

“Are you with us, Detective?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes ma’am,” Dell snapped, straightening in her seat.

Rebecca stared at her hard for a few seconds, then turned back

to the whiteboard. As she talked, she blocked out the highlights of the

operation. “Mitch will continue with his cover as a friend of the Kings.

He’s been seen with them a couple of times in Ziggie’s and at the Troc.

He’s known to have a girlfriend, but he plays around. It helps that he’s

already been seen with Irina.”

“The boy gets more action than most guys with real dicks,” Watts

groused.

Ordinarily Dell would have shot back that it wasn’t what you

had in your pants, but what you did with it, but her stomach was in

knots and she couldn’t muster up any levity. Since she’d started

• 63 •

RADclY fFe

working undercover in drag, she’d discovered that Mitch wasn’t just an

assignment. She’d connected with a part of herself that felt natural and

necessary. Lucky for her, Sandy liked Mitch too. And so did Irina.

“Maybe Mitch scores so well because he knows how to treat

a lady,” Jason said with just enough of a lilt in his voice to remind

everyone he knew what he was talking about.

“Mitch needs tighter backup than we can provide with ordinary

surveillance,” Rebecca said. “We can’t wire him routinely because

we’re hoping Irina will be taking him places where he’s going to get

patted down.” Rebecca focused on Jason. “I can’t order you to do street

work, but—”

“I hope you’re not going to suggest that a lady can’t be trusted

with Mitch’s ass,” Jason said, his tone still light but his eyes serious.

“You’re a civilian, Jason. And it won’t be just Mitch’s ass on the

line.”

“I’m in,” Jason said. “Jasmine has a show Saturday night before

the Kings go on. Mitch can bring Irina. She’ll figure Jasmine is just part

of the group.”

Rebecca nodded. “I like it.”

Dell was glad Irina would know she was a cop because she didn’t

want to lie to her anymore, but she started to sweat when she imagined

taking Irina to the Troc like it was some kind of date. They’d just be

acting, she reminded herself. Both of them.

“This might be our only chance to find out who took out your cops,”

Sloan said to Rebecca. “We’re not going to quit with the middlemen,

are we?”

“A few token arrests might be enough to make City Hall happy,”

Rebecca said, “but we’re going after the top dogs.”

“Fucking A,” Watts muttered.

Sloan nodded. “I still want to continue the forensic analysis of the

computers at the port. We might find a tie-in there.”

“Agreed. Stay on it.” Rebecca looked at Watts. “Talk to the captain

down there today so Sloan can get started.” She wrote “midnight” on

the board and circled it. “Mitch and Irina are due to show up at Ziggie’s

tonight at midnight. Watts and I will take surveillance.”

Watts’s eyebrows rose as if he were going to object, but a look

from the lieutenant shut him down.

• 64 •

Justice for All

Dell cleared her throat and hoped her voice didn’t crack. “Where’s

Irina going to stay? She can’t go back to the house where she was living

with those girls, not alone.”

“Her cover story,” Rebecca said, “is that the two of you went out

a back window and hid out in Mitch’s apartment. For now, that’s where

she’ll be staying.”

“Mitch’s apartment.” Dell’s stomach rolled. The studio she’d

rented when she went undercover was down the hall from Sandy’s

apartment and its only furnishings were a mattress and a ratty sofa. Her

mind shut down before she could think about taking Irina there. “Okay.

Right.”

Rebecca sighed. “Unfortunately, there’s more.”

“There always is when the feds are involved,” Sloan said grimly.

“Clark wants more information on the Zamoras’ political

connections, and he thinks we’re in a better position to get it than his

people.” Rebecca pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “He’s probably

right. Kratos Zamora is a big supporter of the mayor’s campaign.”

“Pretty dicey association for the mayor,” Sloan said.

“Kratos Zamora is a legitimate businessman, and he donates big

bucks to the local political machine.” Rebecca shrugged. “And for all

intents and purposes, he’s squeaky clean.”

“So what’s the brilliant plan?” Sloan asked.

“There’s an upcoming fund-raiser for the mayor, and Clark wants

us there.”

“Us?” Sloan narrowed her eyes. “Why would we be there?”

“I’ll be there representing the force, to show the department’s

support for the mayor. Normal politicking.” Rebecca stared at Sloan.

“Clark thinks you’d have a chance at getting close to Zamora if you were

with Michael, because she’s one of the wealthiest businesswomen—”

Sloan shot to her feet. “Clark can go fuck himself. Michael’s not

going anywhere near Zamora.”

“All right,” Rebecca said. “I understand.”

“Are you planning on taking Catherine?” Sloan asked angrily.

“Catherine’s already going.” Rebecca would have preferred

Catherine stay far away from anything even remotely connected to the

case, but she couldn’t ask her to skip the event. “She’s on the board

of the city’s AIDS/HIV commission. She attends a lot of fund-raisers.”

• 65 •

RADclY fFe

“Michael is out of it.” Sloan sat back down, her eyes stormy. “I’ll

go stag. Sloan Security does business with all the big firms in the city.

We’re not without resources, so I’d have a reason to be there.”

“What about the rest of us?” Dell asked.

Rebecca shook her head. “You need to stay away from Zamora for

the time being.”

“Sandy’s going to be pissed she missed it.”

“No doubt.” Rebecca grinned fleetingly.

Dell would have laughed, except she was thinking that Sandy was

going to be pissed about a lot of things.

v

“Talk to you a minute, Loo?” Watts said as the others filed out of

the room.

Rebecca nodded, mentally reviewing her hastily thrown together

operation. Mitchell might end up chasing a dead lead. With the girls

Irina had been supervising out of the picture, Irina’s conduit to the crime

organization might have closed. If that was the case, they’d waste a

few weeks of surveillance time. But if Mitchell actually did get inside,

she’d be there on her own. Because there was no way backup was going

to be able to follow her where she needed to go. Rebecca had lost one

partner. She wasn’t losing a member of her team.

“…my ass.”

“What?” Rebecca said sharply. “Nobody likes surveillance, Watts,

but it’s necessary—”

“I’m not saying I don’t want to freeze my ass off out in the cold

while Mitch is inside a titty bar getting his crank pulled,” Watts shot

back. “Hell, what guy wouldn’t want to be the one freezing his nuts off

in the car? All I’m saying is, you can’t go.”

“What?” Rebecca straightened. “I don’t think I heard you right,

Detective.”

“Excuse me, Loo, but you’re supposed to be on desk duty. And

excuse me again, but I don’t feel like having my ass chewed out by

your…woman. Whatever.”

“My woman?” Rebecca raised her eyebrows.

Watts shrugged. “The doc. I sort of promised her.”

• 66 •

Justice for All

Rebecca turned around and strode to the opposite end of the

room. She braced both hands on the counter and closed her eyes. She’d

promised her too. Except that she hadn’t known at the time that Henry

planned to put the team back out on the street so fast. Units like hers

typically spent months building cases through surveillance and wiretaps

and gathering street intel. They tapped their confidential informants,

they followed midlevel drug dealers, they rousted street pushers and

pimps. They toiled at their desks and spent endless hours cruising the

streets, until maybe they got lucky and could put a case together. But

this was different. They were going hunting, and they were sending

their youngest, their least experienced, into the jungle alone.

“God damn it,” Rebecca said quietly.

“Yeah, it blows,” Watts said from behind her.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Rebecca said without turning

around.

“Sure thing, Loo.”

Rebecca listened to Watts’s fading footsteps, then went to find

Sloan. She needed a car.

v

Kratos Zamora ended his conference call with his European

business associates, finished his coffee in a single swallow, and pushed

the ceramic mug to the front of his desk where his secretary would pick

it up and refill it upon his return. Then he stood, donned his silk and

wool blended double-breasted charcoal suit jacket, checked the knot

in his tie, and walked to the double mahogany doors separating his

office from the adjoining conference room. When he stepped through,

his brother Gregor was already seated near Vincent. On the opposite

side of the room, a matching pair of double doors led to Gregor’s office.

Kratos sat down at the head of the polished walnut table. Another cup

of coffee awaited him. He sipped it and regarded the other two men

steadily.

“Well? What have we learned?”

Gregor clicked a remote to lower the room lights, then activated an

LCD projector. “JT Sloan’s business address is a matter of record, and

Angelo has been shooting everyone going in and out. Mostly women,

• 67 •

RADclY fFe

one guy who is definitely a cop, and another young guy who we figure

is Sloan’s partner. There’s a Jason McBride listed on their corporate

holdings.”

“Let’s see them,” Kratos said.

Angelo had done a good job, shooting multiple photos of people

coming and going. Two were clearly cops—a beefy middle-aged man

and a tall, thin blonde who looked to be all business. Probably the

detective lieutenant in charge. She looked like she could be a lesbian.

Kratos leaned forward. “Stop right there.”

Angelo had caught a full-face view of another blonde, this one

elegant and sleekly beautiful. In her thirties, smooth-skinned and

slender. The face of an artist’s model.

“Who is that?” Kratos asked.

“No name yet, but she’s a looker,” Vincent said.

Kratos shot him a steely glare and Vincent averted his gaze.

Another shot came up, this one showing the beautiful woman holding

hands with a thin, wild-looking girl. A friend, maybe, because a woman

as sensual and feminine as that one couldn’t possibly be a lesbian.

“I want her name,” Kratos said.

“Sure thing, boss,” Vincent said.

Gregor clicked off the slides. “Angelo has a straight sight line

right down to their front door. He could take one out, probably two or

three, and still get away clean.”

“And we’d have police in our lobby before the bodies hit the

ground,” Kratos murmured, still thinking about the beautiful blonde.

“For now, we watch.”

“Papa would never have let puttanas like that interfere with our

business,” Gregor grumbled.

“Papa was a great man,” Kratos said softly as he stood, turning his

back on his brother to address Vincent. “Have Angelo print out head

shots of all of them. And I want names to go with them.”

v

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Ali Torveau greeted Rebecca as she

stepped into the examining room and closed the door.

“No need to apologize,” Rebecca said, already regretting her

• 68 •

Justice for All

unscheduled visit. Ali’s wrinkled, faded green surgical scrubs looked

about as worn out as she did. The shadows under her eyes, which

already seemed a permanent fixture, were darker today than Rebecca

remembered them. “I’m the one interrupting your day when you’re

probably due to go home. Sorry.”

“Not a problem. I’ll be here awhile.” Ali pulled the stainless steel

stool out from under the tiny shelf that served as a writing table and

instrument stand and sat down, leaning her back against the shelf. “Just

finished a fifteen-hour marathoner. A couple of rival gangs went to

war last night. Three dead. Two others may be joining them soon. Just

kids.”

“Rough.”

“Stupid waste.” Ali shook her head, then focused on Rebecca, her

fatigue appearing to vanish. “So what’s wrong?”

Rebecca hadn’t bothered to undress even though the nurse had

instructed her to when she ushered her into the room. She sat on the

examining table, the white paper covering crinkling beneath her. She

detested being in a position where she had to ask someone else to

empower her to do her job, even when that someone was a friend. “I

need you to clear me for active duty. Today.”

Ali was silent for a long moment. “And how is today different

than yesterday morning when I said two weeks of desk duty?”

“Yesterday morning I didn’t have a new street operation about to

kick off.”

“What’s so important that someone else can’t pinch-hit for you?”

Despite Ali’s conversational tone, Rebecca felt her temper rising.

If it hadn’t been for her promise to Catherine, she wouldn’t be here at

all. She didn’t need medical clearance because she’d only been admitted

to the hospital for observation. Her discharge sufficed to clear her for

duty. No one actually knew about the restrictions that Ali had imposed.

Except Catherine. And Watts, who couldn’t keep his nose out of her

goddamn business all of a sudden. She bit back a sharp reply because

Ali looked like hell and it wasn’t her fault that Rebecca hadn’t been fast

enough to dive out of the line of fire. If Sloan hadn’t been so quick to

back her up, she’d be dead and Catherine’s pain would be on her head.

The wave of remorse was enough to cool her frustration.

“This isn’t something I would ordinarily tell anyone.” Rebecca

hesitated. This was not something she wanted Catherine to hear, and

• 69 •

RADclY fFe

Ali’s quick nod confirmed that their discussion was confidential.

“I’ve got a young detective going undercover tonight. It’s dangerous.

Anything could happen, and I need to be there. Me. No one else. But

I’m just going to be sitting in a car to coordinate.”

Ali made a face. “Don’t give me that, Rebecca. You just told me

anything could happen.”

“I won’t be alone. Watts will be with me.” Rebecca took a breath.

“I don’t expect anything to happen, at least not right away. But that

doesn’t mean I can sit at home with my feet up.”

“What happens if I don’t clear you?” When Rebecca said nothing,

Ali stood up. “If I wanted to play hardball, I could call your captain.

Get you sidelined for as long as I wanted. The city is very antsy about

lawsuits, and an impaired cop on the streets is a liability.”

“You won’t do that,” Rebecca said with confidence.

“You’re right. I won’t. I could call Catherine.”

Rebecca stiffened. “Catherine has enough to worry about.”

“No, Catherine worries about you, and she’s not going to worry

any less if I give my blessing for you to head straight back out into the

same jungle that almost got you killed.”

“I’m a cop. That’s what I do.”

“I know that. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here.” Ali pulled

an ophthalmoscope out of the charger next to the examining table.

“Look over my left shoulder.”

Rebecca complied while Ali shone a bright light into first one eye,

then the other. She felt like an ice pick was piercing her brain, and her

eyes watered. “Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Ali said, not sounding particularly remorseful. “You

understand that there’s a small but definite risk that you could have an

intracranial bleed?”

“That could happen if I were sitting at my desk, too, right?”

“It could, that’s true. But every day that passes without an incident

makes the risk less likely. The first seven to ten days after the injury are

the high risk period.” Ali put the ophthalmoscope away, and then took

Rebecca’s blood pressure.

“I’m not going to do anything crazy,” Rebecca said. “If it weren’t

for Catherine, I’d never say that. But I’m not going to do anything else

to hurt her.”

• 70 •

Justice for All

“You’re cutting that line pretty thin just by going back on duty,”

Ali said.

“I know. But it’s the best I can do.”

Ali removed the cuff from Rebecca’s arm. “All right, Detective,

I’m taking you at your word. Be careful.”

“I’ll try.” Rebecca shook Ali’s hand, thanked her, and headed out

the door. She had one more stop to make.

v

“Rebecca?” Catherine dropped the file she was reviewing onto her

desk and stood. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Rebecca said hurriedly. “I’m sorry. Joyce said you

were free.”

“I am. I don’t have another patient for almost an hour. What are

you doing here?” Catherine came around the front of her desk and met

Rebecca in the center of the Oriental rug that covered most of her office

floor.

“I’m not allowed to visit you?”

“You’re welcome here anytime, darling, but you generally only

drop by if you’re worried, upset, or have something serious to tell me.”

Rebecca tossed her blazer onto one of the two leather club chairs in

front of Catherine’s desk. She’d sat in one of those chairs the first night

she’d come to interview Catherine, six months ago. She’d been sure that

Catherine would not help her. Certain, too, that Catherine would never

be able to understand how badly she needed to catch the man who was

violating the city’s women, because no one had ever understood what

drove her to put an end to violence and abuse no matter the cost. She’d

been wrong about Catherine’s willingness to help, wrong about pretty

much everything where Catherine was concerned. She winced, trying

to remember the last time she’d sent Catherine flowers or just called her

to ask after her day. “I’m a crappy lover, aren’t I?”

“No.” Catherine clasped Rebecca’s waist but resisted embracing

her, which she would have done on any other day. Lightly tracing the

sharp line of Rebecca’s jaw with her fingertips, she said, “You’re a

wonderful lover. This is about whatever Captain Henry wanted to see

you for this morning, isn’t it?”

• 71 •

RADclY fFe

“You’re starting to sound like a cop’s wife.”

“That must be because I am.” Catherine kissed Rebecca’s cheek

and led her to the moss green upholstered sofa opposite the windows. A

small coffee table stood in front of it. They’d eaten takeout off that table

more than once. They’d made love on that sofa one night when they’d

been barely more than strangers, desperate to banish the terrors of the

night with the heat of passion. Thinking about it now made Catherine

flush, not with embarrassment at something so out of character for her,

but with desire.

“What is it?” Rebecca asked quietly.

“Not anything I want to talk about just now.”

Rebecca laughed as she settled onto the sofa. “Later, then?”

“Most definitely later.” Catherine angled away from Rebecca so

she could see her face and not be tempted to touch her. “Tell me what

Henry wanted.”

“He laid out a new operation for us this morning. Starting

tonight.”

Catherine drew a sharp breath. “What kind of operation?”

“Pretty much what we’re planning to do anyway, although on an

accelerated schedule.” Rebecca hesitated.

“Don’t censor it, Rebecca.”

“The plan is a little more aggressive than I might like.”

“Define aggressive,” Catherine said carefully, locking down her

emotional responses. Rebecca was here, sharing the kinds of things that

were difficult for her to share, and Catherine needed to hear them, no

matter how hard.

“Clark wants someone undercover. Mitchell.”

“Isn’t that what she’s been doing all along?” Catherine had the

clearance to be informed of procedural details, because in her capacity

as a consultant to the police department, she often spoke with officers

and their supervisors about classified information. She’d participated in

some of Rebecca’s recent investigations. She knew Dellon’s role.

“This time she’s going undercover with one of the Russian women

who helped hold the girls captive.”

“Why?”

“We’re supposed to get a line on the local organized crime

syndicate, and Mitchell is the one going inside.”

• 72 •

Justice for All

“Well.” Catherine gave a pensive sigh. “That’s definitely

aggressive.”

“I can’t sit on the sidelines, Catherine. I’m sorry.”

“No, I don’t suppose you can.”

“I just came from Ali’s office. She said—”

“What happened?” Catherine’s heart raced. “Why didn’t you tell

me you weren’t feeling well?”

“No, no. I’m fine. I just wanted Ali to take a look at me so she

could clear me.”

Catherine blinked. “You voluntarily went to see Ali for an

examination?”

“Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” Rebecca shook her head. “Felt that

way too.”

“What did she say?”

“She said I could work. And to be careful.”

Catherine moved closer on the sofa and laid her hand in the center

of Rebecca’s chest. “I know you didn’t do it because you wanted

permission.”

Rebecca laughed.

“Thank you,” Catherine whispered. She leaned closer and kissed

Rebecca. “I know you must have hated that.”

“Not as much as I hate upsetting you.” Rebecca cradled Catherine’s

head and kissed her back. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“Don’t apologize. Just keep your promise to Ali and to me.”

Catherine closed her eyes. “Would you mind just staying here for a few

more minutes?”

Rebecca rested her cheek against Catherine’s hair and held her

tightly. “I’ll stay just as long as you want me to.”

v

“Hi, baby,” Sandy said as she breezed through the door of the

two-room apartment. She dropped a shopping bag on the single chair,

shed her jacket, and climbed onto the couch, pulling up her short skirt

so she could straddle Dell’s lap. Then she wrapped her arms around

Dell’s neck and kissed her, giving her a little bit of a lap dance while

she dueled with her tongue. “Mmm, you taste good.”

• 73 •

RADclY fFe

Dell clasped Sandy’s ass in both hands. A little bit of something

covered an inch or so of the space between Sandy’s legs, but Dell didn’t

think a scrap of satin that small could really be called panties. Otherwise,

despite the cold, Sandy’s legs were bare. Dell got a mental picture of

the wet spot she bet Sandy was leaving on her fly and was instantly

totally stoked. She skimmed the cleft between Sandy’s legs with her

fingertips and Sandy moaned, tilting her hips just enough so Dell could

tease her from behind. Dell flicked one finger over the firm knot poking

up against the soft satin and Sandy bit down on her tongue.

“Ow!” Dell jerked her head back and laughed despite the fact

she’d been worrying about seeing Sandy all afternoon. “Jesus, what

have you been doing? You’re so hot you’re going to shoot off like a

rocket.”

“I met Michael for lunch and we went shopping,” Sandy whispered,

licking her way around Dell’s ear. “It was so much fun.”

Dell dropped her head back, her mind going fuzzy for a second.

“Shopping turned you on?”

Sandy bit her earlobe. “No, blockhead. I kept thinking about

dressing up for you, and then I imagined you taking everything off me.

Then I got horny.”

“So you want to give me a show?”

“Uh-uh.” Sandy dived in for another kiss. “Later. Now I want you

to make me come.”

Dell massaged Sandy’s ass some more, encouraging her to keep

circling in her lap. She wished to hell she’d known Sandy was gonna

come home like this, because she would’ve been more prepared for her.

“If you give me a minute, I can give you something to really ride on.”

“Just play with me like you were doing. All I need is a little bit.”

Sandy nibbled on Dell’s lower lip and rubbed her breasts back and forth

over Dell’s chest. “Come on, baby.”

“Okay, babe.” Dell cupped one of Sandy’s small firm breasts and

rubbed the tight peak through the thin cotton tank with her thumb.

She watched Sandy’s eyes until they clouded and her lips parted in

a soft, surprised oh, and then she edged two fingers between Sandy’s

legs from behind and circled her clit. Sandy shuddered and gripped

Dell’s shoulders. Dell tried to make it last, because she loved to watch

Sandy’s face get all dreamy and the little frown line form between her

• 74 •

Justice for All

eyes when she was getting ready to come, but Sandy was already there.

She gave one sharp cry and collapsed in Dell’s arms, her flesh pulsing

sweetly beneath Dell’s palm.

“You’re so hot,” Dell whispered as she kissed Sandy’s neck.

“Mmm.” Sandy stretched and pulled one leg over Dell’s lap so she

could curl up in her arms. She rested her head on Dell’s shoulder and

rubbed Dell’s chest lazily. “You do me so nice.”

“Shopping, huh? We’re going to need bigger closets.”

Sandy circled Dell’s nipple with her fingernails, scratching lightly

at the tight black T-shirt covering it. Dell took a sharp breath and Sandy

smiled with satisfaction. “So I went to Michael’s office today. She said I

could try the job for a little while. If I didn’t like it…” Sandy shrugged.

“No big deal.”

“Yeah?” The lump in Dell’s throat made her sound hoarse. Sandy’s

teasing had her nerves jangling, but she wanted to talk. They needed to

talk. “When are you going to start?”

“Monday, probably.” Sandy nibbled on the side of Dell’s neck.

“She said I don’t have to come in until ten in the morning.”

Dell’s brain was a little slow because most of her blood was

hammering between her legs, but she finally put it together. She grasped

Sandy’s hand and moved it away from her breast. “You’re going to try

to do this job and still work for Frye? Why?” She couldn’t keep the

edge out of her voice, and felt Sandy stiffen. “There’s no reason for you

to be out on the streets anymore.”

“What did you expect?” Sandy sat up straight, her chin thrust out.

“Do you think I’m going to all of a sudden become someone else? Just

because I’ve got some new clothes and a day job?”

“No, Jesus.” Dell clenched her hands by her sides as Sandy hopped

off her lap and stalked across the room. “That’s not what I meant.”

Sandy picked up the bag of clothes, tossed it inside the tiny closet

next to the door, and slammed it closed. Then she spun around, her arms

folded beneath her breasts. “If you wanted a girlfriend you could take

home to meet your family, you should have picked someone else.”

Dell jumped up. “I never said that, San.”

“Then why do you want me to take this job so much?”

“Because I want you to be safe,” Dell yelled. “Is that so hard to

figure out?”

• 75 •

RADclY fFe

“Hey!” Sandy yelled back. “Get over yourself, rookie. I never

asked you to worry about me. And I sure as hell never asked you to look

out for me.”

Before Dell could say anything else, Sandy yanked open the door

and stormed out. The walls rattled as the door crashed shut.

Dell yanked her hand through her hair. “What the fuck was

that?”

v

Sloan ignored the muted whir of the hydraulics as the elevator

ascended. A few seconds later, a faint whoosh indicated the doors had

opened, but she kept on scanning the data scrolling on three screens.

The click of heels on hardwood floors pierced her concentration and she

spun on her chair. Michael was smiling as she wound her way through

the labyrinth of desks and equipment.

“Hey,” Sloan rose, “what are you doing here?”

“Looking for a dinner partner.”

“Really? A little early, isn’t it?”

Laughing, Michael propped her briefcase in front of the bank of

computer monitors and laced her arms around Sloan’s neck. Then she

kissed her. “It’s after seven, love.”

Sloan frowned. “It is?” She checked the room, realized she was

alone, and vaguely remembered Jason saying he was leaving. Dell

was gone too. Hours ago, now that she thought of it. “Am I late for

something?”

“No, but we could be if you’re not all that hungry.” Michael traced

the muscles in Sloan’s shoulders through the cotton shirt she wore. “I

was going to suggest that we walk over to Old City and grab something

for dinner, but if you have something else in mind…”

“I do now,” Sloan muttered, nipping at Michael’s lower lip before

she kissed her more thoroughly. She was always ready for Michael.

“The team is going to get pretty busy pretty soon. Maybe we should

have dinner. You can tell me what’s happening at the office.”

Michael leaned back in Sloan’s arms, smiling softly. “Now you

want to talk about work?”

“I want to talk about you. What do you say?”

“I say I love you.” Michael grasped Sloan’s hand. “Let me take

• 76 •

Justice for All

you to dinner, and then we’ll come home and you can do unspeakably

wonderful things to me.”

“I think I can handle that. I’ll just grab my jacket.” Sloan slid from

Michael’s grip and started toward the conference room.

“Don’t forget the benefit this weekend,” Michael said casually. “If

you’re not too busy, I’m counting on you to be my date.”

Sloan spun around. “What?”

Michael started, her expression confused. “I’m sure we talked

about it. The Women’s Business Association is one of the sponsors for

the mayor’s outreach program. There’s a fund-raiser this weekend?”

She frowned. “I know my memory’s still a little patchy, but—”

“You can’t go,” Sloan said flatly.

“I don’t understand.” Michael searched her face. “What’s

wrong?”

“Nothing.” Sloan turned her back and started for the conference

room again.

“Sloan,” Michael called after her. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you can’t go.” Sloan shoved open the conference room

door and stormed inside. The room was dark and she didn’t bother to

turn on the light. She grabbed the nearest chair, lifting it a few inches

as she thought about throwing it somewhere. Anywhere. A red haze

of anger blurred her vision and her ears rang as if someone had fired a

round right next to her head.

“Darling,” Michael said from behind her.

“Don’t turn on the light,” Sloan said, afraid for Michael to see

what was in her face. Fury and fear and foreboding. And a terrifying

sense of impotence, as if things were spinning out of control and she

was helpless to stop them.

“You’re starting to scare me.” Michael rested both hands gently

on Sloan’s back. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Michael wrapped her arms around Sloan from

behind, rubbing her palms over Sloan’s chest. Sloan’s body was so tight

it felt as if she might snap like a high-tension wire breaking in the wind,

lashing anything in its path. Michael might have been frightened if she

hadn’t known with every fiber of her being that Sloan would never hurt

her. She leaned her cheek against Sloan’s back. “I love you.”

“Then just trust me on this, Michael.”

• 77 •

RADclY fFe

“I do trust you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t need to understand

you.” Michael kissed the side of Sloan’s neck. “I have to go to this,

darling. I’m giving one of the introductory speeches.”

“Get someone else to do it.”

“I can’t. I have a job, too, Sloan.”

“God damn it, Michael,” Sloan barked, spinning around, breaking

Michael’s grip. “It’s just a job.”

Michael backed up, the light from the main room falling across

her face, etching her shock in stark chiaroscuro. “Where is this coming

from?”

Sloan knifed around her, not letting their bodies touch, and stalked

out of the room. She picked up speed as she hit the elevator button.

What could she tell her? That she had an irrational fear that Michael

would be drawn into the evil that was a daily part of her life, that the

deadly depravity would find her, would take her. The roaring in her

head made it impossible for her to think. Or to explain.

“Sloan,” Michael called, but the elevator doors had already closed

behind her. Michael sagged against the table, trying desperately to

understand what had just happened. Trying to dispel the cold, distant

expression in Sloan’s eyes. Sloan had looked at her as if they were

strangers.

Michael waited in the dark, praying for Sloan’s return. As the night

and the aching silence stretched on, she finally went upstairs alone.

• 78 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER SEvEN

Mitch sat alone at a table in the back of the darkened room,

nursing a beer and watching the performance onstage at the

Troc with only half a mind. Sandy hadn’t come home before he’d had

to leave. He kept thinking of the new clothes abandoned on the floor

of the closet, and wishing he’d had a chance to see Sandy model them.

Wishing he hadn’t pushed so hard, because he knew Sandy hated to be

pushed. Sandy didn’t talk much about her life before the streets, but it

didn’t take much imagination to figure out she’d been pushed around

a lot when she was a kid. Why else would any teenager leave home to

sleep in a flophouse and sell the only thing that belonged to them just

to survive another day. Sandy was tough, she was smart, and she could

take care of herself. Mitch knew it. He loved that about her.

“Fucking coward,” he muttered. Him, not Sandy. He was afraid

he’d lose Sandy, just like he’d lost Robin. But he lost Robin because

Robin had walked out. Robin had been ashamed of them. Mitch dropped

his head back and closed his eyes. Yep, he’d blown it. One thing Sandy

was not, was ashamed. Sandy had more pride than just about anybody

Mitch knew. “Asshole.”

A firm hand clamped Mitch’s shoulder and a deep raspy voice

said, “Talking to yourself, guy?”

“Not anymore.” Mitch rolled his head to the side and squinted

up at the wiry figure looming over him. Even in the semi-gloom he

recognized the sharply cut profile of Phil E. Pride, one of the members

of the Front Street Kings drag troupe. Mitch checked the stage and

realized the show was over. Man, he’d been drifting, which was not a

• 79 •

RADclY fFe

good idea while he was working. He straightened in his seat and kicked

out a chair. “Sit down. I’ll grab us a couple of fresh beers.”

“Thanks,” Phil said.

Mitch hustled to the bar tucked into one corner and snagged two

drafts from the bartender just ahead of the crowd. Holding them high

so they didn’t spill as he jostled his way back to the table, he reviewed

his cover story in his head. Then he set the beers down and reclaimed

his chair. While he’d been gone, Ken Dewar, the leader of the Kings,

had joined Phil.

“Sorry, Kenny,” Mitch said to the flat-topped blond with the

construction worker’s build. “I didn’t get you a brew.”

“No problem.” Ken swiped Phil’s glass and took a long pull.

“Solo tonight, Mitch?” Phil asked conversationally as he reached

across the table and retrieved his beer from Ken.

“Yeah. I’m kind of in between girls, if you know what I mean. So

I needed a little peace and quiet.” Mitch sipped his beer and cupped

himself for a second to settle his dick more comfortably in his tight

black jeans. Somehow the fullness in his palm and the pressure against

his crotch felt reassuring. He knew these guys and he liked them, and

they seemed to like him too. They never probed into what he did for

a living, and he suspected they knew he was more than the bar back

and occasional bouncer he let on. The deception bothered him, but he

reminded himself that his secrecy was as much for their safety as for

the success of his assignment. He knew nothing of their other lives

either.

“In between?” Ken laughed. “You mean you’ve got two girls

pissed at you instead of one?”

“Something like that,” Mitch said.

“So, uh, Sandy break up with you?” Phil asked.

Mitch tamped down the swift surge of jealousy, but it wasn’t easy.

Phil had made his appreciation of Sandy pretty clear when Mitch had

introduced them. Since Mitch had been trying to get close to Irina, he’d

been forced to let on he wasn’t super serious about Sandy. Considering

new developments, he could hardly get territorial now. But Phil was

a good-looking guy. Strong shoulders, trim waist, and a nice healthy

bulge in his jeans. He was also way confident around women. A lot

more confident than Mitch. “Sandy didn’t dump me yet. I’m hoping

she’ll cool off and cut me some slack.”

• 80 •

Justice for All

“Well, good luck on that.” Phil slapped Mitch’s back. “But if you

need a little help keeping her entertained, you know who to call.”

“Sure, right,” Mitch said, forcing a grin. “Listen, I’m meeting Irina

at Ziggie’s later, so in case anyone’s asking, you haven’t seen me.”

Ken let out a long whistle. “Man, you really do like to live

dangerously.”

“What’s the point, otherwise?” Mitch drained his beer. “I thought

I’d bring her around to the show on Saturday. Introduce her properly

to you guys.”

“Sure. Always happy to meet a lady.” Phil eyed Mitch speculatively.

“If you need us for anything, just give us a call.”

“Sure, but everything’s cool.” Mitch rose. “I’ve got it all under

control.”

As he headed for the door and his meeting with Irina, Mitch hoped

to hell he was right.

v

Through the swirling haze of anger, Sloan recognized the dark

expanse of water to her left and the twisting road in front of her. West

River Drive. The road peeled away beneath her and she took the tight

turns fast, leaning hard into the curves, her body knifing through the

wind. She was on her motorcycle because Rebecca had borrowed her

car earlier and hadn’t returned it yet. Sloan hadn’t given any thought

to where she was going when she walked out on Michael. All she’d

wanted was to outrun her rage before it spilled over on Michael and

contaminated the only good thing in her life.

As the white lines flashed beneath her, the cold wind off the water

bit at her face below the visor of her helmet and her mind started to

clear. Her focus shifted once more to Avery Clark. It all came down to

the feds, the same group that had turned on her. They’d put her in jail

and years later, they were still manipulating her life. Only this time,

Avery wanted her to risk something far more important than her life.

Michael.

She pulled into a turnoff that was empty save for one pickup truck

at the far opposite end. Cutting the engine, she settled her feet on either

side of her Harley and unzipped her jacket. Her body was hot and the

cold air blowing off the water chilled the sweat against her skin. She

• 81 •

RADclY fFe

wasn’t afraid for herself. She wanted to get close to the men at the top.

She wanted the man who had ordered the execution of two cops, and

who had sent someone to run her down in the street outside her own

home. Except she hadn’t been the victim, Michael had.

The man responsible for that attack had to be out there, and there

was no reason to think he wouldn’t try again. Nothing had changed. In

fact, the closer the team got to exposing the criminal conspiracies, the

more likely the men pulling the strings were to take drastic action. She

wasn’t afraid on her own account. She’d spent enough time doing covert

work in Southeast Asia to know how to protect herself. Professional

assassins in that part of the world put American wiseguys to shame.

But Michael didn’t have that kind of skill, and Sloan didn’t know how

to protect her.

Her options were few. She could quit the team—she wasn’t a cop

or a federal agent anymore. But if she did, there was no guarantee the

threat would disappear. She could find whoever had tried to kill her and

force them to tell her who gave the order. She’d never been an assassin,

but she would kill to protect Michael, and she knew it wouldn’t bother

her.

v

When the buzzer rang, Michael jumped up from the sofa,

excitement overriding her worry. Then disappointment struck her

hard. It wouldn’t be Sloan. Taking a steadying breath, she checked the

small monitor set into the wall beside the elevator. Then she flicked the

intercom. Sandy’s voice greeted her.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you. I know it’s late. Is Dell there?”

“No. No one’s here. Want to come up?”

Sandy looked up and down the street, her uncertainty and

unhappiness clear even in the small black-and-white image.

“I’m not having a very good night either,” Michael said. “You

don’t have to talk about anything.”

“Okay. Sure. Why not.”

Michael disengaged the lock on the front door and watched the

monitor until Sandy was inside. Then she went into the kitchen to make

tea. A moment later, the tall double doors enclosing the elevator slid

• 82 •

Justice for All

back almost soundlessly. She called over her shoulder, “Come on out to

the kitchen. Are you hungry?”

“No,” Sandy said, climbing up onto one of the stools. “Mind if I

have a beer instead of tea?”

“One of those nights, huh?”

Sandy snorted. “For sure.”

“So,” Michael said, joining her at the breakfast bar. She handed

her a bottle of one of Sloan’s microbrews and set her own tea aside to

cool. “Dell wasn’t happy about the job offer?”

“Oh, she was. She can’t wait to stick me behind a desk.”

Michael couldn’t help but smile, considering that was how she

spent almost all her time. But she understood what Sandy meant. “A

little overprotective?”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “Like working in an office is going to erase

the last two years of my life.”

“Is that what you think she wants?” Michael asked quietly.

“Don’t you? After all, would you want a whore for a girlfriend?”

Michael cradled the steaming teacup while she give that some

thought. “I would absolutely hate anyone to use someone I loved,

physically or in any other way. I think I’d be jealous too. Of someone

touching her, even though I know that’s not what it’s about. And of

course, I’d be afraid of her being hurt.”

Sandy leaned her elbow on the smooth granite surface, cupped her

chin in her hand, and stared at Michael. “What about being ashamed or

grossed out. You left that part out.”

“If I loved someone the way I know Dell loves you, I wouldn’t

feel that way about what she needed to do.”

“You know she went to West Point, right? That she’s really smart?

I mean, they’re all smart—even Watts.” Sandy sighed. “You didn’t meet

her sister, Erica. She’s an uptight version of Dell, and she definitely

didn’t think I was good enough for her.”

“I can’t see Dell caring.”

“She says she doesn’t. Now.”

“You know,” Michael said carefully, “you could get your GED if

you wanted.”

“Maybe. Someday.” Sandy picked at the corner of the label on her

beer bottle with her thumb. “I want to take the job you offered. I don’t

• 83 •

RADclY fFe

want Dell to support me, so I need to be able to make money without

doing guys for it. Besides, I’m sick of faking it.”

“Good.”

“But I’m doing something important already. With Frye.” Sandy

met Michael’s gaze. “What I do for Frye makes a difference, just like

what Sloan and Dell and the rest of them are doing. I don’t want to stop,

and Dell wants me to.”

“Aha.”

“Yeah.” Sandy looked around the loft. “Where is everybody?”

“I don’t know. Something’s happening, but I’m not sure what

it is.” Michael sighed. “Sloan didn’t tell me, but from the way she’s

wound up already, it’s something big.”

“Oh boy,” Sandy said.

“Yes.” Michael squeezed Sandy’s hand. “So, Monday at ten?”

Sandy finished her beer, slid down from the stool, and placed the

empty bottle on the counter next to the sink. “Okay. You’ll be there,

right?”

“I will. You’re welcome to stay here. I have a feeling Sloan won’t

be back for a while.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll hit a few places before I head home. Look

up some friends.”

Michael slid her arm around Sandy’s shoulder and walked her to

the elevator. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

“Sure. I know what I’m doing.” Sandy kissed her on the cheek.

“No worries.”

For the second time that night, Michael listened to the elevator

descend before turning back to her empty apartment.

v

“Yeah,” one of Gregor Zamora’s men said as he answered his cell,

turning his wrist to check his watch at the same time.11:15. He’d been

sitting in the same position behind the wheel in the cramped front seat

of the Dodge sedan for so long his ass was numb.

“See the skinny little blonde headed away down the street?”

“The one that just came out of the building? Yeah, I see her.”

“Follow her.”

“You sure? I can’t see her being any kind of trouble.”

• 84 •

Justice for All

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

The line went dead.

“Prick,” the man muttered as he pocketed his keys and slid out of

the car. Fucking footwork. At least she had a nice ass, which he kept in

his sights as he started after her.

v

“Funny how a slicked-back haircut and getting rid of the tits

makes such a big difference,” Watts held forth between slurps of coffee.

“Hell, he even walks different than Mitchell. Must be the package he’s

carrying between his legs.”

“Sure. That must be it.” Rebecca checked her rearview mirror,

then scanned the street in front of them.

Ziggie’s was a strip joint in the middle of a block of abandoned

factories, a darkened Mobil station on the corner, and very little in the

way of foot traffic. They’d been in position for two hours, and during

that time a dozen cars had parked, disgorging passengers, all men, who

straggled alone or in groups into the club. The girls who danced in the

dank, cavernous space or performed sexual favors in the airless rooms

in the back would use the rear entrance. They hadn’t seen Irina.

“The boy better keep his head on straight,” Watts said.

“Mitch can handle it.” Rebecca knew Watts was partly concerned

that Mitch would run into trouble and they’d be too far away to help,

and partly jealous that Mitch was point man even though he was still

green. But they couldn’t do anything to change either thing, so she

focused on something they could affect. “If Clark’s people are here

somewhere, I can’t see them.”

“Bet your ass they’re around somewhere,” Watts grunted, crushing

the paper cup and dropping it on the floor between his legs. “Clark can

pretend he doesn’t have enough manpower to run his own operation,

but you can bet he’s got enough to fuck things up for us.”

Rebecca tended to agree. Clark’s modus operandi was to let her

people do the dangerous or the boring work while he watched from a

distance until something shook loose. Then all of a sudden he and his

agents were right in the middle of it. She often wondered whether, if

she had the power of his position, she would do the same. She didn’t

like to think so.

• 85 •

RADclY fFe

“Let’s hope Irina shows, and that Clark is right about her,” Rebecca

said.

“She could be playing him, you know,” Watts said. “Hell, if my

choice was being shipped back to some gulag or pretending to work

for the feds, I’d volunteer to rat out my fellow sleazeballs too. Doesn’t

mean that once she’s out from under Clark’s thumb, she’s really going

to do it.”

“I know.” Running a double agent was always a risk, because if

they were informing on their one-time friends, they could just as easily

turn the tables and betray you. If Irina was double-crossing them, she’d

need information to convince the Zamoras and the Russians that she was

still on their side. And she’d need to get that information from Mitch.

Rebecca didn’t see that they had any choice except to go forward and

hope that Mitch would be able to tell if Irina was stringing him along.

As if reading Rebecca’s mind, Watts said, “I don’t mean to put

the boy down, but you heard the two of them over the wire. She can

seriously twist Mitch around.” He shifted his bulk and sighed. “She

could definitely give me a little wood, and once that happens—”

“Not everyone’s brains are smaller than their dicks, Watts.”

Watts laughed. “Probably a good thing Mitch’s rod isn’t

hardwired.”

Rebecca didn’t bother to explain how wrong he was about the way

things really worked.

v

“Beer?” the bartender asked as Mitch slid onto a stool and dropped

his motorcycle jacket onto the one next to him.

“Sounds good.” Mitch swiveled around to face the stage, putting

his back to the bar and the husky blond bartender with muscles bulging

beneath his tight white T-shirt. Like every other time he’d been here, a

mostly naked girl gyrated in the center of the raised platform, one arm

draped around a gleaming pole, her legs spread and her hips cocked, her

pelvis an open invitation to the hulking figures lurking in the shadows.

He didn’t recognize her, but then the faces changed frequently in places

like this. Women were used up quickly when they were bought and

sold like commodities. This one, though, seemed too old to be one of

• 86 •

Justice for All

the Russian girls smuggled in through the port. Mitch felt a flash of

disappointment. Maybe the Russians had moved on.

“Here you go,” the bartender said, sliding a bottle in Mitch’s

direction.

Mitch caught it and took a swallow. The cold rich flavor felt good

in his parched throat. Nerves, he thought. As he took another deep

slug, arms came around his waist from behind. He felt the pressure

of full breasts against his back and warm breath wafted across his ear.

Fingernails played down his chest and over his abdomen.

“Hello, new boy,” Irina whispered, dropping her hand onto the

inside of his thigh.

Swinging back around, Mitch parted his legs and pulled her in

tight to his body. He kissed her, taking his time. She pressed slowly

into his cock.

Mitch cupped her ass and leaned back with an easy smile. “Hello,

baby.”

• 87 •

• 88 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER EIghT

Sandy walked east on Market Street, then cut over to Front Street

and the footbridge that arched over the four lanes of Delaware

Avenue. Once she reached the other side, there was nothing between

her and the river except empty parking lots, darkened buildings, and

the occasional attempt at a park meant to tempt tourists. At night, those

isolated patches of grass served as sleeping grounds for the homeless.

She walked fast, her shoulders back, her eyes vigilant. The silent,

shapeless forms of men and women huddled on the benches and in

doorways did not frighten her. The men in cars who slowed to track

alongside her as she walked did not frighten her either, but they were

far more dangerous to her than the drunk and the disenfranchised. Their

whispered calls formed a familiar litany.

“Hey baby, need a ride?”

“I’ve got something special for you, sweet thing. Come take a

look.”

“Fifty bucks to suck my cock.”

Fifty dollars for ten minutes’ work, maybe less. Food money for

a week. She could blank her mind for ten minutes, hell, she could be

somewhere else in her head for a whole night if the price was right.

“Suck my cock. You know you want it.”

Sandy almost laughed as the car kept pace with her, the passenger

window rolled down. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him

leaning across the space between the front seats, steering with one hand

while the other most likely worked his cock. You know you want it. She

so didn’t want it. She didn’t have anything against cocks. She loved

• 89 •

RADclY fFe

Mitch’s. She loved to watch his eyes get all fierce and hot when she

rode it, and she loved the way she felt connected to him all the way

through when he was inside her. Yep. She liked cock just fine, as long

as it was Mitch’s.

“You got to see my man about that,” Sandy called back, never

breaking stride. The car zoomed off. Married guys from the suburbs

always panicked at the mention of a pimp. An anonymous blow job in

an alley was okay, but they didn’t want to be reminded of exactly what

it was they were doing. Paying another man for a piece of a woman’s

body.

Sandy angled across a parking lot lit sporadically by the few

remaining lights that hadn’t been knocked out. The Blue Diamond was

another strip club in a long line of sex clubs, and just as popular with

women as men. In a lot of ways it was safer than some of the other

clubs because men didn’t hit on the women in the audience as much. A

girl like her could still turn a trick, but nobody would expect her to. And

that was good. Because fifty bucks wasn’t worth getting on her knees

for. Five hundred wasn’t even enough. She wasn’t foolish enough to

think she might never have to do it again, but tonight she had a choice.

“Hey, hot stuff,” the Mini Cooper–sized bouncer at the door said,

treating her to a thrust of his bulging crotch. “Look me up later and I’ll

give you a present.”

“It’s not my birthday, but thanks,” Sandy said, breezing by him.

He always had a come-on line, but unlike some of the bouncers and

bartenders, he didn’t bother the girls if they didn’t put out. She was

pretty sure he was gay.

Inside, the place was indistinguishable from a dozen others like

it—dark, crowded with tables, smelling of beer and smoke and sex. The

namesake recessed blue lights shrouded everyone except the dancers in

a ghostlike pallor. Three gleaming poles jutted from a stage set against

the far wall, and a woman in white cowboy boots, a suede vest, and red

tassels on her nipples slithered up and down the center one.

On her way to the bar, Sandy scanned the crowd. One of her

friends, Lily Chou, was giving some guy a hand job under the table.

Sandy caught her eye and tilted her chin toward the far end of the bar.

Lily nodded, never slowing the steady up and down of her arm. Sandy

hopped onto a stool, stretched a leg out across the stool next to her to

save Lily a place, and waited for the bartender to make his way down.

• 90 •

Justice for All

The African-American’s head was huge, completely bald, and gleamed

like polished wood beneath the blue lights. The massive muscles in his

shoulders and arms strained his black T-shirt.

“What can I get you, honey,” he asked in a bored voice.

“Beer.” Sandy didn’t want it, but she needed the prop. After all,

she was supposed to be working. When it came, she sipped at the tepid

foam. God, the beer in these places sucked. She shifted her leg aside as

Lily stepped in beside her. “How’s it going?”

“The same. You know.” Lily made a subtle jerk-off motion and

dropped onto the adjacent stool.

Sandy smiled wryly. “Yeah, I know.”

“I heard you’ve got some new kind of action going on.”

Sandy’s pulse jumped. Frye was always careful not to be seen

with her unless she made it look like she was rousting Sandy. Fuck,

maybe someone had seen them in the diner the other night. She’d had

her arm around Frye’s waist while they were walking down the street.

Hell, Frye had had her arm around her shoulders. Being cozy with a

cop was not a good way to make friends around here. “What would

that be?”

“Some pretty boy who rides a big bike?” Lily cocked her head.

“Maybe a boy with something a little different in his pants.”

Sandy shrugged. Not Frye, then. Mitch. “He’s fun to play with.

And he knows what to do with it, you know what I mean?”

“Hey, if it works, why not.” Lily laughed. “Does he have a

friend?”

Sandy bumped Lily’s shoulder. “Three of them.”

“Maybe someday.”

“Let me know.”

“So what do you hear?” Lily asked.

That was just the question Sandy was hoping for. The fewer times

she had to ask for news, the better. She looked around to be sure they

wouldn’t be overheard, then leaned closer. “I heard some guys are

looking for new talent. The party circuit, maybe films. You get anybody

asking, I want in.”

“Funny,” Lily said. “That kind of action dried up earlier this year,

but Julie told me last night a couple of guys were asking around for

models. Stills, and maybe some videos. Said there might be other work

soon too. Parties and like that.”

• 91 •

RADclY fFe

“Damn, I could have used a little something extra.” Sandy signaled

the bartender to get Lily a drink. “Did she say who the guys were?”

Lily shook her head. “Uh-uh. None of the regulars. They were

talking up the girls at the Zodiac.”

“Oh well,” Sandy sighed, pretending to check out the room. “I

ought to be able to score something here.”

“Don’t go in the back,” Lily said. “There’s a cop hanging around

there somewhere. Getting a blow job, I think.”

Taking the easy excuse, Sandy stood up. “I don’t need any of that.

I’ll catch you later.” She started away, then turned back. “Listen. Tell

the others to call me if those guys come around again.”

“Gotcha. Thanks for the beer,” Lily called after her.

Once outside, Sandy headed back the way she had come to catch

the subway home. She heard footsteps keeping pace behind her, but

she neither sped up nor slowed. At one in the morning the streets were

nearly deserted. An occasional cab zoomed by, and now and then

someone staggered out of a bar, but she was on her own.

She was used to that, but for the first time she realized she had

someone who would care if she didn’t come home. She liked the

feeling. A lot.

v

Talia sipped her pinot noir and watched numerals scroll on her

computer screen. A fire burned in the marble fireplace across from

her antique carved walnut desk. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined her

study walls, the uppermost shelves accessible by a brass ladder rail that

ran around three walls. Behind the double glass doors, first editions

mingled with contemporary works. Opposite her desk, a matching

1930s art deco sofa and chair bordered the edge of a Persian wool rug.

The understated elegance of the room and the rich, warm atmosphere

afforded by the rare books and furniture filled her with pleasure.

Taking another mouthful of wine, she let the velvety liquid play

over her tongue, then tapped a few keys. She always worked better

when her senses were sated, and the wine was very smooth, its

fruitiness underpinned with just a hint of earth and wood. She studied

the screen intently. Reconnaissance was one of her favorite parts of

• 92 •

Justice for All

hacking into a remote system. Sending out probes and enumerating

the OS parameters, generating port maps, looking for the forgotten

opening—the chink in the armor, the way in. Cracking was very much

like seducing a woman—teasing out her desires and her weaknesses

and playing to them, until she invited you beyond her defenses. Those

early encounters were so exciting that Talia rarely stayed beyond the

moment of capitulation. Bedding a woman was certainly pleasurable,

but far less rewarding than that explosive moment when the object of

her campaign surrendered.

She smiled, thinking about Kratos Zamora and his persistent

probing, his subtle forays into seducing her. He was an attractive man,

a powerful one, and she enjoyed dominating powerful men almost

as much as powerful women. But she didn’t trust him not to take a

sexual encounter as a sign of weakness, and in her line of work, it was

important never to appear weak. The weak were ultimately culled, and

she had no intention of making herself vulnerable.

She sent another probe, not expecting instant results. She knew

within moments of scanning the system that she wasn’t going to

find something as simple as an open port or a weak password, so she

didn’t even bother to try cracking JT Sloan’s authentication process by

brute force. If she tried, the system log would undoubtedly trigger the

activity, and for now, she preferred to remain anonymous. No system

was unassailable, and eventually she’d find an insecure program to

exploit or a way to write one to gain superuser status. Until then, she

had other avenues to explore.

Leaning back in her Victorian leather desk chair, she regarded the

image on the computer screen adjacent to the one still scrolling data.

She’d found the photograph in the archives of a tabloid newspaper and

the picture was slightly out of focus, but the poor quality did nothing

to detract from JT Sloan’s incredible charisma. Talia appreciated the

jet black hair, slightly hooded deep-set eyes, and etched-in-marble

features, but what ignited the excitement in the pit of her stomach was

the wild ferocity in Sloan’s gaze. She’d been caught by a photographer

as she climbed out of an ambulance, her hand clasping that of a woman

on a stretcher. Captioned “Center City businesswoman victim of hit-and-run,” the brief article gave few details, but Talia didn’t need to see

any more. It might take her some time to find the weakness in Sloan

• 93 •

RADclY fFe

Security’s computer network, but she’d already found the woman’s

personal Achilles’ heel. She wondered how much the information

would be worth to Kratos.

v

Mitch couldn’t tell if anyone in Ziggie’s was watching them, but he

had to assume they’d attracted the attention of the men who controlled

Irina and her girls. Possibly the Russian handlers, possibly Zamora’s

men. The Zamoras would never have let outsiders set up competition

in their territory unless they had a piece of the action, and Mitch had to

trace that connection. But for now, he just needed to convince anyone

checking them out that he and Irina were an item.

Irina wasn’t as small as Sandy, but her hips fit easily between

his thighs. He rolled her tight round ass beneath his palms, molding

her pelvis to his. She wore satiny slacks that fit her like skin and he

could almost feel her sex gliding over his cock as if there were nothing

between them. She pressed her breasts into his chest and her mouth

against his ear.

“You promised to fuck me, new boy. But you lied.”

For a second, Mitch wasn’t certain Irina understood that he was

a cop and had been acting last time. Then she reached between them,

gripped his cock, and worked it around hard between his legs. Caught

off guard, he groaned at the firestorm she started in his belly.

“I won’t forget,” she whispered.

“Sorry,” Mitch gasped.

She leaned back, relaxing her grip, and kissed him again. When

she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, she bit down hard enough

to make him wince. The pain quickly morphed into another jolt of

pleasure and he struggled not to jerk back. Her kiss was brutal and

arousing. Through half-closed lids, he saw the bartender watching

them. He skimmed his fingers over the outer curve of Irina’s breast.

Her blouse vee’d deeply between her unfettered breasts and his thumb

brushed her nipple. It was hard.

“Mmm,” Irina murmured, finally drawing away. Still firmly

wedged between Mitch’s legs, she looked over Mitch’s shoulder with

a seductive smile.

“Hello, Max.”

• 94 •

Justice for All

“Not working tonight?” the bartender asked, leaning on his

outstretched arms as he stared.

Irina caressed Mitch’s cheek. “A little of both.”

“Huh,” the bartender grunted. “Where’s Olik?”

“I don’t know,” Irina answered, “I thought he would be here.”

“Haven’t seen him for a couple of days.”

His tone was as flat and unreadable as his smooth, solid features.

The conversation quickly put out the tension blazing in Mitch’s hard-on, and he was grateful for that. He didn’t need the distraction. He

needed to get a handle on Irina’s game. He didn’t know the players,

and he had to find out fast. The bartender seemed to be probing for

information. Obviously, no one trusted anyone else, and neither Irina

nor the bartender was giving anything away.

“Tell him to call me.” Irina stepped back from Mitch and gripped

his hand. “Come on, new boy. You promised me a good time.”

“What’s your number,” the bartender called after her. “If he comes

in.”

Irina looked back. “Olik knows.”

“So what if he forgot?”

“Then I’ll be here tomorrow night.”

Mitch dug a five out of his pocket and tossed it on the bar. His

knuckles brushed along the length of his cock, and the feeling was

both foreign and grounding. Irina was either a natural-born actress, or

completely fearless. His stomach roiled, but he’d be damned if he’d

let on how nervous he was. He slung his arm around Irina’s shoulders.

“My bike’s out back.”

As she led him down the narrow hall toward the rear exit, he heard

the sounds of frantic sex in the shadowed alcoves along the way. He

and Irina had come close to having sex back here one night. She’d done

things to him that he didn’t mean to let happen and that had twisted his

head around until Sandy straightened him out as only Sandy could. His

thoughts cleared as he thought about her. Sandy kept him steady.

Irina pushed through the fire door and he followed her quickly

out into the alley. He’d left his Ducati against the wall at the far end.

Otherwise, the area was deserted save for a few rats scurrying from the

shaft of light that had cut through the shadows from the open door.

He glanced at Irina. “Are you—”

She slapped him across the face so hard his head rocked back

• 95 •

RADclY fFe

and his lip tore open against the edge of a tooth. He tasted blood and

braced himself for the next blow. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been

beaten in an alley. The last time he’d been trying to prevent a john from

roughing up Sandy. He’d won the fight then, but he wasn’t about to hit

Irina.

“That’s for making me want you,” Irina snapped.

“Like I said,” Mitch replied evenly. “Sorry.”

“Let’s go,” Irina said. “This place stinks almost as bad as the

jail.”

“Where are we going?”

“My place. I want clothes.”

Mitch rubbed his jaw and felt a bruise rising. He couldn’t think of

a reason not to go back to Irina’s house. If the Russians were watching,

they’d see them together, which was just what he wanted. He didn’t

have a way to signal Frye and Watts about the plan, but in this kind of

job, he was going to be on his own a lot. He was okay with that.

“Did anyone come with you?” he asked.

“No,” Irina said sharply. “Some men dropped me off and said you

would be here.” She stopped by the side of his bike. The light from the

street highlighted her face. Her expression was hard and cold. “They

explained to me what would happen if I didn’t do as they say.”

“What did they tell you to do?”

“Anything I had to do to find out what they wanted to know.” She

looked him up and down. “Including fucking you.”

“You’re not going to have to do that.”

Mitch straddled the bike and handed her a helmet. She put it on

and climbed on behind him. Then she wrapped her arms around his

waist and slid her fingers underneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Maybe I will anyhow.”

v

“Aw, for fuck’s sake.” Watts jerked upright in his seat as the Ducati

roared around the corner and headed in the opposite direction toward

North Philadelphia. “There he goes.”

Rebecca didn’t bother answering. She cranked the starter and

made a quick U-turn to follow Mitch. Since this part of town was fairly

• 96 •

Justice for All

deserted midweek in the middle of the night, she had to hang back

without other traffic to use as cover.

“Keep an eye out for anyone else following him,” she said.

Watts divided his attention between the side mirror and squinting

into the distance at the single red taillight. “You think Clark has a tail

on them too?”

Rebecca grunted. “Don’t you?”

“Christ almighty, it’s a fucking daisy chain. With this many people

trailing along after him, the boy’s cover’s gonna get blown.”

“Maybe Clark really is stretched thin,” Rebecca said. “Maybe the

feds really don’t have the manpower for street-level surveillance.”

“Maybe. And maybe my dick’s got two heads too.”

“That is not an image I want stuck in my brain, Watts.” Rebecca

cut over one block and turned left. Then she sped up, running parallel

to the street Mitch and Irina had taken.

“Jesus, Loo! We’re going to lose him if he jumps onto 95.”

“Your concern for Mitch is starting to worry me, Watts. Something

you want to tell me?”

“Yeah, I’ve suddenly developed the urge to suck salami. He’s still

green, that’s all.”

Rebecca cut back toward Mitch’s street and as they crossed the

intersection, she caught a glimpse of Mitch’s taillights two blocks north

of them. She kept going another block, turned right, and paralleled

him again. “I know he’s green, but he’s good. And I know where he’s

going.”

• 97 •

• 98 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER NINE

Sloan pulled into the garage, cut the engine, and sat astride

her bike, wondering how she had come to be sitting alone in

the dark while the woman she loved waited four floors above, feeling

four thousand miles away. She’d moved from the clandestine streets of

Southeast Asia to the pristine corridors of DC, and when forced from

government service had convinced herself that work in the private

sector was satisfying. At times, it was. And in addition to being very

lucrative, private contracts had brought her Michael. But she never felt

the thrill of hunting a white-collar criminal the way she did when she

knew her work would rid the world of someone truly evil. She had felt

that way since working with Frye and her team, but Michael had paid

the price for her ego gratification.

Sloan figured she’d been selfish long enough. She swung her leg

over her bike and strode to the elevator. After punching in the code,

she let her mind go blank. She had nothing left to think about. A few

moments later, the elevator opened and she stepped into the loft. A fire

had burned down to embers, and in the dying glow she saw Michael

curled in a corner of the large sofa. She wore dark, loose cotton pants

and a long-sleeved scoopneck top. Her legs were drawn beneath her

and her arms wrapped around her slim torso. She looked cold, and

Sloan felt a surge of self-loathing. She stripped off her leather jacket

and tossed it onto a heavy wood frame chair on her way into the sitting

area.

“Did you have dinner?” Michael asked.

“No.” Sloan detoured to add more logs to the fire before settling

• 99 •

RADclY fFe

onto the sofa next to Michael. The six inches of space between their

bodies felt like miles. “I’m okay.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

Michael’s tone was not accusatory, but Sloan ached at the

undeniable sadness. She took Michael’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?”

Sloan tried to find an answer that would be the truth. “I lost my

temper and I took it out on you. That’s unforgivable, but I hope you’ll

forgive me anyhow.”

Michael laughed softly, but the sadness was still there. “You have

always been so charming. I’ve never been able to resist you.”

“Bad thing? Good thing?”

“Our thing.” Michael traced the tight tendons in the back of

Sloan’s hand with her fingertips. “I know I’m not capable of doing a lot

of the things that you do. I wouldn’t really want to. I’m not interested

in learning to shoot a gun. I’m probably a coward at heart—” When

Sloan started to object, Michael shushed her. “I don’t enjoy physical

confrontation. I live inside my head, and you—God, one of the things I

love about you is how physical you are. I love how I know what you’re

feeling, what you’re thinking, when you touch me.” Michael’s voice

trembled. “So when you leave me like you did tonight, I feel lost.”

Sloan pulled Michael into her arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,

baby.”

“Why don’t you want me to go to this fund-raiser? Catherine and

Rebecca are going.”

“Rebecca and I will be working,” Sloan said.

Michael settled her head on Sloan’s shoulder and looped an arm

around her waist, trying to decipher the message. Sloan didn’t want to

tell her something, and whatever that was, she seemed tormented by it.

“You think there’s danger, and you don’t want me there.”

“I don’t know. Possibly. Probably.” Sloan stroked Michael’s

shoulder. She didn’t know her enemy’s face, she didn’t know how to

stand between Michael and harm, and that was driving her crazy.

“It’s a public function,” Michael pointed out gently. “I’ll be

arriving with you and leaving with you. And the entire time I’m there,

I’ll be surrounded by police officers and businessmen and women.

What could happen?”

• 100 •

Justice for All

“I don’t know,” Sloan whispered.

“I’m all right now, Sloan. I feel better every day. I’m not going to

get hurt again. I’m fine.” Michael straightened and took both of Sloan’s

hands in hers. “What I need is you by my side, loving me. If you do

that, that will be enough.”

“Okay,” Sloan said softly, rising to walk with Michael to the

bedroom, all the while knowing she had lied.

v

Sandy didn’t see Dell’s bike in front of their apartment building.

She pulled the front door key from one of the many zippered pockets

on her fake red leather jacket as she climbed the stoop, her stomach

sinking. She’d stormed out in a huff and now Dell wasn’t home. Crap.

Dell was probably mad. Well, so was she. Sort of. A little bit. And she

hated the disappointment that choked her when she let herself into the

dark apartment. She already knew Dell wasn’t there, so why did that

make her feel bad, anyhow? It’s not like she needed her around all

the time. They both had their own stuff to do. Just because they slept

together most every night, it wasn’t like they were really living together.

Dell still had her expensive fancy condo in Center City, although come

to think of it, Sandy couldn’t remember the last time Dell had been

there.

After switching on the light, she stripped on her way to the

bathroom. She showered and washed the smoke out of her hair, then

fished a ratty T-shirt of Dell’s she slept in out of the laundry basket. She

couldn’t find a clean pair of sweatpants so she checked in Dell’s half

of the dresser. The first drawer she pulled open was empty. She stared

at it for a long moment, the sick feeling in her stomach growing. She’d

finally pissed Dell off so much she’d left. Got sick of her running the

streets, mouthing off, going her own way. What did you think? That she

was going to stay forever? Grow up.

Sandy’s hands shook when she pulled open the next drawer. Her

knees almost gave out when she saw Dell’s T-shirts and underwear

neatly folded and stacked. Turning quickly, she raced to the single

narrow closet and pulled it open. A few hangers were empty, but most

of the stuff Dell had brought over from her condo was still there.

• 101 •

RADclY fFe

Relief left her shakier than the terror had. Tears filled her eyes and

she headed for the kitchen to find a beer. A folded piece of paper sat

beneath the salt shaker on the counter next to the refrigerator. Sandy

stared at it as if it were a dead mouse. No way. She wasn’t touching

it. Instead, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a can of Black

and Tan. She popped the top and took a long swallow while eyeing the

paper. Get a grip. Geez, what a coward.

After another deep swallow, she plonked the can on the counter,

knocked the plastic shaker aside, and snatched up the note. The message

was short, but after reading it three times, she still couldn’t figure out

what it meant.

Babe. I’m working and I might not be back tonight. I

might not be back for a couple of nights. Don’t worry. If you

see me anywhere, especially in the building, pretend you

don’t know me. I love you, babe. D.

“Pretend you don’t know me?” Sandy shook her head angrily.

“What the fuck, Dell.”

Pissed again, but finally feeling like she might not throw up, she

settled onto the sofa bed to wait.

v

Mitch pulled his motorcycle along a wooden fence behind a block

of row houses in North Philadelphia. It wasn’t the kind of area where

anyone, even the inhabitants, walked around unarmed after dark. Many

of the houses were boarded up or had been claimed by crack addicts,

drug pushers, and squatters. The Russians had kept Irina and her charges

in a house in the middle of the block. No lights shone from the building

now, and as Mitch and Irina crossed the cracked cement patio toward

the back door, he could see that most of the windows on the first floor

were broken out. Those along with the door had been hastily boarded

up. “Let me go first.” Mitch leaned down and pulled a Beretta .25 from

his ankle holster. “A place like this is a blinking red sign for vandals

and looters. We might find company inside.”

• 102 •

Justice for All

“Wait,” Irina whispered.

Mitch watched wordlessly as she ran deftly across the debris-strewn yard. Then he couldn’t see her, but he heard stones scraping. A

minute later she was back at his side, a Glock in her hand.

“Christ,” he muttered. Whoever had searched the place after the

raid hadn’t done a very good job. “Any more surprises inside?”

“If I told you,” Irina said, “they wouldn’t be surprises.”

Mitch grabbed her arm. “You can’t shoot anyone. If you do, you’ll

end up back behind bars again.”

“I’m not going back,” Irina said with finality. “Come on.”

By unspoken agreement they avoided the door. If anyone was

inside, they’d probably be smart enough to rig the door with some kind

of alarm, even if it was just a row of cans strategically placed on the

floor. Keeping to the shadows, Mitch skirted around to the left side

of the house, keeping Irina in sight, just ahead of him. Her bedroom

window was still intact.

“Let’s forget this,” Mitch said. “We can get you some more clothes

tomorrow.”

“Give me a boost up. The latch is loose on purpose.”

Mitch cupped his hands and sure enough, after a minute, he heard

the window slide up and Irina shimmied inside. He jumped to grasp

the lower windowsill, dug his toes into the soft wood wall, and clawed

his way after her. Inside, the air smelled like cordite and blood. He

remembered how his own blood had smelled pooling beneath his body

not that long ago. With his body too weak to move and the knife jutting

from his thigh, he’d wondered if he was about to die. And then Frye had

leaned over him. She’d been the one to take the knife out, to stop the

bleeding, to tell him he would be all right. He’d believed her.

“Bastards,” Irina cursed. The closet door was standing open—

hangers in a jumble on the floor, and the single dresser was upended.

The drawers had been tossed into a corner and their contents strewn

around the room. The mattress lay half off the bed, its stuffing erupting

from a long rent down the center. Police, probably.

“Let’s make it fast.” Mitch moved to stand by the left side of the

door.

If anyone tried to come in, he would be able to swing into the

open doorway and take them out by cracking them on the head with his

• 103 •

RADclY fFe

gun. He didn’t want to have to shoot anyone. If anyone was inside, it

wouldn’t be cops. Not enough manpower to continue a stakeout. Still,

he didn’t want to shoot a drugged-out teenager or a drunken prostitute.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Irina pawing through the

mess on the floor. She quickly jammed items into a small bag she’d

dug out from underneath the corner of the mattress. Then she hurried

to the closet and stepped inside. A thud sounded on the ceiling upstairs,

and Mitch tensed. They weren’t alone. When he heard footsteps shuffle

over his head, he abandoned the door and jumped across the small room

to the closet.

“We have to go,” he whispered urgently, wondering what she was

so eager to find. He reached inside, grabbed her arm, and yanked her

out. “Now.”

She jerked her arm free. “One minute.” She fumbled around the

floor and came up with what looked like a knee-high leather boot.

“You’ve got be kidding me,” Mitch cursed. “What is it with girls

and their shoes. Jesus.”

“Here.” Irina thrust the bottom of the boot toward him. “Hold the

heel.”

Deciding that agreeing with her was likely to get them out of the

room faster than anything else, Mitch grabbed the four-inch stiletto and

held on tight as Irina clutched the shoe and yanked hard. The heel broke

off in his hand. Irina tugged at the sole and it stripped away from the

bottom of the shoe. She pulled several items from inside, shoved them

into her bag, and ran to the window. She looked back, her face framed

in moonlight. “Are you coming, new boy?”

Then she disappeared.

Mitch dropped through the window and onto the ground, half

expecting her to be gone. But she was crouched by the gate, waiting, and

in another minute they were racing down the alley to his motorcycle.

Mitch straddled the big bike and Irina jumped on behind him. They

jammed helmets on and he wheeled the bike out into the street before

starting the motor. If anyone in the house heard them, it would be too

late to catch up with them now.

He drove fast through the empty streets until the lights of Center

City appeared, and then he pulled over. He yanked off his helmet and

angled around in his seat so he could see Irina. “What was that all

about? And don’t tell me just clothes.”

• 104 •

Justice for All

Irina smiled, her eyes gleaming in the lights from a nearby gas

station. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because…” Mitch hesitated. He was about to say because he was

a cop. One of the good guys. But he realized that would be a tough sell

to Irina. He didn’t think she was innocent in the prostitution and porn

operation. Maybe Clark was right and she hadn’t had a lot of choices,

but she’d still kept those girls practically prisoners, and had sold them

to the men who used their bodies like so much merchandise. “Because

if you don’t work with me, you’re not going to find your sister.”

“What do you know about my sister?”

“Not enough, unless you tell me. But I’ve got a lot better chance

of finding her than you do on your own.”

“They promised us a new life,” Irina said bitterly. “We would

be models and hotel managers and hostesses in fancy restaurants. We

would have clothes and a house with heat in the winter and running

water all year round.” She shook her head. “Instead they made us

slaves. Worse than slaves.”

“Who, Irina? Who?”

“I don’t know. Men from our village drove us all night to the

seaport. They kept us in rooms, brought us food, told us we must stay

inside or we would not be able to leave when the boat came. Then there

were other men who took us from the docks here and brought us to

these houses. These prisons. I don’t know who they are.”

“Okay,” Mitch said softly. “We’ll find out. And we’ll find your

sister.”

“You think your American police care about women like me?”

Irina scoffed.

Mitch thought of her lieutenant and the others on her team, and the

blood they’d already shed. “Yes. I do.”

“You are a fool, new boy.”

“Come on, it’s time to get some sleep. Then we’ll talk about your

sister.”

When Mitch pulled back into the street, Irina put her arms around

his waist and nestled her face between his shoulder blades. Sandy did

that when she rode behind him. He missed her. He missed her a lot.

• 105 •

• 106 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TEN

Seeing as how you’re still on the sick list,” Watts said, his words

sounding as if he were pushing them through a meat grinder,

“I’ll be the one to kick his ass.”

Two blocks ahead, Mitch turned onto Bainbridge.

Rebecca pulled the car over abruptly. “He’s taking her to his

apartment. At least that’s according to plan.”

There hadn’t been any way to stop him from taking Irina back to

the stash house in North Philadelphia, and once he pulled his motorcycle

into the alley, they couldn’t get closer than a full block away or their

vehicle would have been immediately visible to anyone watching. If

anything had gone wrong they couldn’t have provided backup, and the

frustration of being unable to protect one of her team ate at her.

“You think the Russians got someone watching that house?” Watts

asked.

“If they’re not sure whether any girls got out during the raid,”

Rebecca said, “then it makes sense to watch the house. Where would

girls like that go except back to the only place where they had shelter?

They don’t speak the language, they don’t know the city, they’d have

no way of making money. They wouldn’t even be able to sell their

bodies.”

“So the Russians have probably seen Mitch with her.”

Rebecca nodded, rolling forward again until they cruised through

the intersection at the end of Mitch’s block. “That could turn out to be a

good thing. It definitely helps establish their connection.”

“Unless they’ve decided Irina is a liability, or they think she got

• 107 •

RADclY fFe

out of the building because she was the one who fingered them. Then

they just might dispose of her, and anyone who might miss her.”

Rebecca parked and turned off the engine. Mitch’s motorcycle

was pulled up onto the sidewalk in front of the building where he and

Sandy lived. Settling into surveillance mode, Watts pulled a crumpled

pack of Camels out of the inside pocket of his equally crumpled suit

jacket and shook one out.

“There’s too much we don’t know,” he said. “The whole setup

blows.”

“For once we agree.” Rebecca glanced over at him. “Not in the

car.”

“Jesus, Loo, I’ve been in this sardine can half the night.”

“And just think how much cleaner your lungs are already.”

He snorted and stuck the pack back in his pocket. “You really

think we’ll get close to the guys at the top using a bottom-level whore

like Irina?”

“Irina isn’t a prostitute—and even if she was, that doesn’t make

her unimportant.” Rebecca struggled not to jump down his throat,

because she knew his crude disregard for just about everyone was often

a substitute for concern. Of course, sometimes he really just didn’t give

a damn. “How many women do you think there are like Irina? With

enough English to deal with clientele and enough strength and smarts

to handle a house full of girls and keep them from panicking or running

away? My guess is they’re going to want her to set up housekeeping

with a new bunch of girls as soon as possible.”

“It’ll be sweet if it works that way.”

“Yes,” Rebecca said, thinking of the million ways it could all go

wrong. “Sweet all right.”

v

Irina turned in a half circle, surveying the room. “You live here?”

“I flop here sometimes.” That was stretching the truth by a lot.

Mitch kept the room as part of his cover but he’d never actually spent

a night in it. He slept with Sandy, three doors down the hall. “There’s

milk and bread in the refrigerator. And peanut butter in the cabinet.

That’s all I had time to get, but—”

• 108 •

Justice for All

Irina laughed. “I know how to shop, unless you’re going to lock

me in here.”

Mitch flushed. “I’m not your jailer. I know you probably don’t

want to be doing this, and if you want to walk away, that’s between you

and Clark.”

“And you won’t try to stop me?” Irina’s tone was incredulous.

“No.” Mitch indicated the mattress pushed into one corner of the

small studio apartment. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any sheets, but there’s

a blanket and the mattress is new.”

Irina sank down on the mattress and dragged the blue blanket

around her shoulders.

Guiltily, Mitch said, “Why didn’t you tell me you were

freezing?”

“Because I wasn’t. This…” Irina waved her hand toward the

window. “This is not cold for me.”

Mitch shook his head. He wasn’t thinking the way he should be. “I

should have given you my jacket while we were on the bike.”

“No matter. The cold will pass. But I am tired. I couldn’t sleep

where your friends put me.”

“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Mitch had no idea how far the

feds would go to convince someone to flip on their associates. Probably

pretty damn far since 9/11, especially when foreign nationals were

involved.

“They tried to frighten me.” Irina shrugged. “I have known men

who were better at it.”

Mitch didn’t doubt her. Why else would she have fled her country

on just the word of strangers? “I’m going out. I won’t be back tonight,

but I’ll bring coffee and something to eat in the morning. Then we can

get this place into some kind of shape for you to stay here.”

Irina regarded him steadily. “You have someone.”

Mitch knew he probably shouldn’t talk about his personal life.

He definitely didn’t want Irina to know anything about Sandy. But he

needed her to trust him, and trust meant taking a few risks. He nodded.

“Yes.”

“And this…girl? You like girls, yes?”

He nodded again.

“This girl, she doesn’t complain when you fuck other women?”

• 109 •

RADclY fFe

Irina draped the blanket around her like a shawl and leaned back on her

arms. Her breasts thrust forward, straining the buttons on her blouse.

Mitch sensed he was being tested, and he wasn’t certain what

answers he should be giving. He remembered Frye saying once that the

truth, or at least part of the truth, was often the best answer in a tough

undercover situation. “She minds.”

Irina pulled the blanket closed over her breasts and curled on her

side, resting her hand beneath her head as she pulled her knees up close

to her body. “Were you going to fuck me, before the police came?”

“No,” Mitch said, sliding his hands into his pockets. His jeans

tightened over his cock, and he felt the pressure through to his spine.

“But I wasn’t pretending, either. You’re…very hot.”

Irina’s eyes drifted down his body, lingering on his crotch. Mitch

didn’t move, but he twitched in his jeans. “Go, new boy,” she said

softly. “For tonight.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Mitch walked to the door, then

looked back. “Do you have a picture of your sister?”

“Why?”

“Because it will help us find her if we know what she looks like.”

Irina shook her head. “No. The police will lock her away. Then I

will never see her again.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“Even if I believed you, you are just one.” Irina folded her arms

and pillowed her head, then closed her eyes.

Mitch returned, crouching down by the side of the mattress. “I’ll

talk to some people. About protecting your sister, okay? Then will you

let me see the picture?”

“Do you keep your promises, new boy?”

“Yes,” Mitch said.

Irina opened her eyes, searching his face. “Come back in the

morning. Maybe we’ll talk.”

v

Sandy heard footsteps in the hallway and a shadow blocked out

the sliver of light beneath the apartment door. She wrapped her arms

around her bent legs and rested her chin on her knees, holding her breath

until a key rasped in the lock. Mitch was backlit briefly in the square

• 110 •

Justice for All

of light as the door opened, then his blade-like figure disappeared into

darkness again.

“You can turn on the light,” Sandy said when she heard him bump

into something.

“Jesus,” Mitch gasped. “It’s three in the morning. I thought you’d

be asleep.”

“Not without you.”

“Didn’t you get my note?” Mitch fumbled on the dresser a few

feet from the door and pulled the chain on the small lamp. He removed

his jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall.

“Yeah, I got your message. What’s this shit about not coming back

for a while? And where are your clothes?”

Mitch sprawled on the couch beside her and kicked off his boots.

“I’m going to be working a lot at night, so sometimes I might not make

it home.”

“I get that. That happens sometimes. But something else is going

on this time, isn’t it?”

Mitch stared at the ceiling. Frye hadn’t said not to tell her. “I’ve

got this assignment. We’re going after the mob who are hooked up with

the Russians.”

“I know that. Frye thinks with foreign girls out of the picture,

all the action is going to swing back to the local girls again. I’ve been

asking around. I think she’s right.” Sandy turned sideways on the couch

and poked Mitch’s shoulder. “What’s your part?”

“One of the Russian girls flipped after she was arrested. I’m

working with her.”

Sandy jumped to her feet and strode across the room, then spun

around. “Working. Working as in what? Following her? What?”

Mitch sat forward, trying to stay calm. “We’re supposed to be a

couple. So she can get me close to some of the guys in charge.”

“Perfect. It’s Irina, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Mitch didn’t see any point in denying it. Sandy knew

Irina, or at least what she looked like. She’d seen Irina’s picture when

she was screening porn videos for Frye, trying to identify the models.

She also knew that Mitch had had to get physical with Irina before.

Sandy stalked back to him, her eyes narrowed. “Where is she?”

“In my apartment down the hall.”

“Which is where you moved your clothes.”

• 111 •

RADclY fFe

“I thought I better have a change of clothes there, just in case.”

Mitch waited, expecting an explosion. When it didn’t come, he really

started to worry. “Look, I know you’re pissed off.”

“Is she there right now?”

Mitch nodded. “She’s going to be staying there for a while.”

“Why aren’t you there?”

“Because I’m here.” Mitch stood up suddenly and pulled Sandy

into his arms. He couldn’t stand the distance between them any longer.

She felt stiff in his embrace, but she didn’t push away, and she would

have if she’d been really, really pissed off. He rubbed his cheek against

her hair. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you earlier, but then we had a fight,

and I didn’t have a chance.”

“I’m going to kill Frye,” Sandy whispered.

Mitch laughed. “Good. Better her than me.”

Sandy wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing tight to his

body. “This is crazy, baby. She could get you hurt.”

“You’re worried about me?”

“Duh.” Sandy bounced her forehead against his shoulder. “She

flipped on these guys, and she has to know they’ll kill her if they find

out. So if it comes down to her or you, you think she’s going to stand

by you? She’ll turn you over to them to save her ass.”

“How do you know that?”

Sandy was still for a long time. “Because that’s what I would do,

if I were in her place.”

Mitch cupped Sandy’s chin and lifted her face. He kissed her and

kept kissing her until she softened and molded into his body. “No, you

wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know what I’d do,” Sandy said, pulling his T-shirt

from his pants. “I don’t want to talk about her. I don’t want to talk about

Frye. I don’t want to talk about anything.” She unbuttoned the top of his

jeans and yanked down the zipper. Then she reached inside and pulled

out his cock. She dropped to her knees, her fist around him. She looked

up. “I just want you.”

“Babe,” Mitch whispered, bracing his hands on her shoulders as

his legs got suddenly weak. Her fist covered half the length of his cock,

and as she took the head into her mouth, she pressed the shaft into his

clit. He groaned, watching her through hooded eyes. She swallowed

• 112 •

Justice for All

him, and while his head spun, his world steadied. Sandy owned him. “I

need you, babe.”

“I know.” Sandy rubbed her face against his cock, then kissed the

base of his belly. “Me too. Take off your shirt and the wrap. I want to

touch you. I want to feel your heart beat while you fuck me.”

Dell ripped her T-shirt off over her head, then unstrapped her

breasts. She dropped on her back on the sofa, her cock standing straight

up between the vee of her jeans. She palmed it, circling the base slowly

over her clit while she watched Sandy undress. She was already hard

enough to come, and Sandy knew it. Sandy took her time undressing,

her smile flickering as she watched Dell’s hand move.

“Ready, baby?” Sandy knelt on the edge of the sofa and Dell’s

hips started to twist.

“Totally.” As Sandy climbed up over her, naked, vulnerable, her

face filled with need, Dell felt humbled and unworthy. “I love you. I

love you so damn much.”

“You better.” Sandy pushed Dell’s hand away and fisted her cock,

seating the head between the folds of her sex. She hissed as she braced

her other hand in the center of Dell’s chest. “You like being inside of

me?”

“God, yes.”

Sandy gasped as she took an inch. “How much?”

“More than anything ever.”

“You like”—Sandy closed her eyes and shivered, tilting her pelvis

to take the thick wide shaft. Her voice came out breathy and slow—

“coming in me?”

Dell gripped Sandy’s narrow hips, steadying her while she thrust

carefully, stretching and filling her. She grunted sharply when Sandy’s

weight abruptly settled on the full length of her, crushing her clit beneath

the cock. “So much I’m going to explode any second.”

Sandy slapped Dell’s tense stomach sharply. “You better not,

rookie. You’ve got work to do first.”

“Aw, babe—”

“Forget it,” Sandy gasped. “You’re lucky you’re getting any. Now

shut up and fuck me.”

Laughing, Dell focused on Sandy’s face, sliding in and out a

fraction of an inch at a time as Sandy set the pace. She loved making

• 113 •

RADclY fFe

Sandy come even more than having her own mind-blowing orgasms,

and concentrating on pleasing Sandy helped her last longer. She knew if

she thought about how sweet it felt for even a few seconds she wouldn’t

be able to hold back, so she just put everything she had into making

Sandy feel good.

“Like it, babe?”

Sandy nodded, her eyes glassy. “Oh yeah.” She hugged her lower

lip between her teeth and sagged forward, catching herself with both

hands on Dell’s chest. She gripped Dell’s breasts, her fingers closing

convulsively around Dell’s nipples as she pumped her hips harder and

faster along Dell’s length.

“Oh, fuck.” Dell’s clit pulsed as Sandy tugged on her nipples. She

felt the orgasm building, curling through her stomach and down her

thighs. She clutched Sandy tighter and jerked up hard into her.

“Oh,” Sandy whimpered. “I’m gonna come on your cock. Okay?

Okay, baby?”

“Do it,” Dell panted, “do it…with me.”

Sandy’s head snapped back and she let out a long, keening wail

and Dell exploded. She came so hard she thought her head would burst

open. Maybe it did, because she was pretty sure she was blind, maybe

paralyzed too.

Sandy lay like a dead weight across her chest, with Dell still inside

her. All Dell could move was one hand, so she stroked the damp hair

off Sandy’s face.

“Good, babe?”

“Awful,” Sandy mumbled. “Worst sex I ever had.”

Dell laughed. “Still mad?”

“Shut up, Dell. I’m thinking about coming again.”

“Okay,” Dell said quickly. “Okay, sure.”

Sandy pushed herself up on one elbow, looking soft and satisfied

as she circled her pelvis lazily. “Tired?”

Dell shook her head vigorously.

“Liar.” Sandy nipped at Dell’s lip again, then sucked on her

tongue, still slow pumping on her cock. “You’re going to see her in the

morning, aren’t you?”

“Sandy.” Dell brushed her fingertips over Sandy’s breasts. “I love

you.”

• 114 •

Justice for All

“I got scared,” Sandy said breathlessly, “when I came home and

you weren’t here.”

Dell wrapped her arms around Sandy’s waist and turned her gently

onto her back, careful to stay inside her. She supported her body on her

forearms and kissed Sandy, flexing her ass rhythmically, pumping in

and out. When she sensed Sandy getting ready to come, she whispered,

“Look at me, babe.”

Sandy’s lids fluttered and she struggled to focus. “You’re making

me come.”

“I’m always coming home,” Dell promised as Sandy clamped

her heels tight around the backs of her thighs and bowed beneath her.

“Always.”

• 115 •

• 116 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER ELEvEN

After Watts dropped her off, Rebecca let herself quietly into

the house and clicked off the porch light that Catherine

had left burning. Another light shone dimly in the hallway and got

brighter as she approached the bedroom. Frowning, she eased open

the bedroom door and stepped inside. Catherine was propped up on

the pillows, asleep with a book on her chest. Rebecca smiled when

she recognized the name of a top-selling thriller. Six months ago, she

wouldn’t have had any idea what that author wrote, but then a lot of

things had changed in six months. She would still have been out on the

streets at this time of night back then, roaming around in her personal

vehicle on her own time, searching for something to fill the void in her

life, in her heart. Now, for a few hours, she could leave all the death

and depravity behind. In Catherine’s arms, she found not only peace,

but completion. Moving silently, she crossed to the bed and eased the

book from between Catherine’s fingers.

“It’s late,” she said when Catherine opened her eyes and smiled up

at her. “Go back to sleep.”

She reached over to turn out the light, but Catherine grasped

her wrist. “Leave it on until you come to bed. I like to watch you get

undressed.”

“If you expect me to follow Ali’s instructions, you shouldn’t say

things like that.” Rebecca sat on the side of the bed and leaned down

to kiss Catherine on the mouth. When Catherine’s arms came around

her neck, she pushed the sheets down and slipped her hand beneath

Catherine’s silk top.

Catherine murmured, her nipple hardening as Rebecca’s fingertips

• 117 •

RADclY fFe

brushed over it. “My God,” she said, pulling back breathlessly.

“Ambush. You just ambushed me.”

Rebecca grinned. “That wasn’t an ambush, it was just a

greeting.”

Catherine placed her palm against Rebecca’s chest and held her

away. “No more. I’m weak at the moment.” Her smile twisted fleetingly.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I feel fine. Never better.” Rebecca quickly undressed, all the

while watching Catherine watching her. Then she hurried around to

the other side of the bed and climbed under the sheets. Catherine rolled

toward her, and Rebecca took her into her arms. Still, Catherine kept

one hand braced against Rebecca’s chest, preventing their bodies from

completely touching. Rebecca grumbled in frustration. “At least let me

kiss you.”

“I can’t. I have no willpower where you’re concerned. If we start,

I won’t be able to stop.”

“Good.”

Catherine brushed her fingers through Rebecca’s hair. “Darling,

you look tired. It’s too soon for you to be working this many hours.”

“I was sitting in the car the entire time. It was deadly boring

and Watts was enough to drive me crazy, but it wasn’t strenuous. I

promise.”

“What were you doing?”

“Following Mitch. He met Irina tonight. First contact since the

raid.”

“Did it go all right?”

“I don’t know. We’re stuck with visual surveillance only.” Rebecca

almost snarled in frustration. “I can’t hear them, so I don’t know how

well Mitch’s doing.”

“Is Dellon ready for this?”

“She’s got a knack for the work.” Rebecca rested her forehead

against Catherine’s, slowly caressing her shoulders and her back. She

hadn’t felt as relaxed all day, and miraculously, her fatigue seemed to

drop away. “I think she’s solid.”

“But something is off, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve only got Clark’s report that Irina is

really willing to go along with the double cross. And Clark probably

doesn’t care about risking my people with a shaky informant.”

• 118 •

Justice for All

“This young woman—Irina—she can’t have had much experience

with this. She must be terrified.”

“She may never have done this before, but to have survived this

long…” Rebecca shrugged. “To have even made it as far as this country

means she’s strong and resourceful and smart. I just wish I had a better

sense of whether we can trust her. I can’t even question her, because I

don’t want her to know who Mitch’s backup is. That could compromise

him down the road.”

“What if I talked to her?”

“No,” Rebecca said immediately. “I don’t want you involved.”

“I have an official position with the department,” Catherine said

gently. “It would probably make sense to her that someone like me

interviewed her. Besides, I don’t care how strong and resourceful she

is, she’s got to be frightened. That can’t possibly be good for her and

Mitch if they get into a difficult situation.”

“You’re using my weaknesses against me,” Rebecca muttered.

Catherine laughed softly. “How is that?”

“You know I’ll do anything I have to do to protect my people.”

Rebecca rolled Catherine onto her back and settled on top of her, one

thigh between her legs. Leaning on a forearm, she brushed her thumb

over Catherine’s chin. “I’d do anything except put you in danger.”

“I can hardly be in danger talking to someone in my office.”

“I’d rather you didn’t get anywhere near this operation.” Rebecca

frowned. “I’m pretty much working in the dark.”

“Let me help shed some light.”

Rebecca kissed her. “You always do.”

Catherine’s eyes softened and she pushed her fingers into

Rebecca’s hair, pulling her down for a kiss. When she released her, she

murmured, “I love you. I want to help you, but it’s more than that. It’s

my job too.”

“Maybe.” Rebecca sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now you need some sleep.”

“What I really need is you.” Rebecca eased onto her side and

Catherine curled into her body after switching out the light.

“You have me. And when Ali gives us the okay, I’ll show you just

how much.”

“Promise?” Rebecca murmured as she felt herself slipping away.

“With all my heart.”

• 119 •

RADclY fFe

v

Sloan didn’t remember falling asleep. She remembered undressing

Michael by the side of the bed. She remembered sitting on the edge, still

fully clothed, and Michael, nude, standing between her thighs. She’d

caressed Michael’s breasts, her abdomen, her hips, the insides of her

thighs while watching her face in the moonlight. After a while Michael

had braced her hands on Sloan’s shoulders because her legs trembled.

Sloan hadn’t wanted to stop. She wanted to touch her everywhere, inside

and out. She wanted to affirm that Michael was hers, and always would

be. She slid her fingers between Michael’s thighs, stroking through her

wetness, refusing to stop even when Michael warned her of what would

happen, teasing relentlessly until Michael climaxed in her hand. She

caught Michael as she collapsed and guided her into bed, cradling her

until she fell asleep.

She hadn’t meant to sleep, but she must have, because now she

was waking up. And Michael was touching her. Sloan sucked in a

breath and opened her eyes. Michael was leaning over her, her blue

eyes bright, her lips parted in an expression of anticipation. Groaning

at the surge of pressure in the pit of her stomach, Sloan raised her head

enough to see Michael’s hand moving between her legs. She had a grip

on her clitoris and was slowly massaging her.

“Uh…Jesus.” Sloan collapsed back on the bed.

“Good morning,” Michael said, her voice silky and deep. She slid

her fingers up and down a little faster.

Sloan made an unintelligible sound, and her eyes rolled back in

her head.

Michael laughed softly. “I was going to tease you until you got all

excited and woke up, but you were already hard when I touched you.”

Sloan panted, feeling the orgasm swirl along her spine and coalesce

beneath Michael’s fingers.

“You didn’t finish last night, did you?” Michael squeezed and

pulled until Sloan’s shoulders came off the bed again, and then she

abruptly released her.

“Baby.” Sloan stared at Michael, her gaze pleading. “I need—”

Michael kissed her, plunging her tongue into Sloan’s mouth while

• 120 •

Justice for All

she caressed her breasts and stomach. When Sloan’s hips bucked into

empty air, Michael quickly pushed down on the bed between her legs.

“Watch me.”

Sloan braced herself on her elbows and watched Michael lick her.

The first warm, wet caress brought her right to the edge. It was so good,

and she needed to come so much. “Suck it?”

“Mmm,” Michael murmured, circling with her tongue. “I will. In

a little while.”

“Feels so good.”

“You taste so good.” Michael sucked light and fast, a flutter of

teeth and tongue.

“I’m going to come,” Sloan blurted.

Michael backed off and went back to licking. Every now and then,

in no particular pattern, she drew Sloan completely into her mouth.

Each time she did, Sloan felt herself starting to come. And each time

Michael would relax and let her slip out again.

Sloan tugged at the sheets, pulling them loose until they were

bunched up around her body. The muscles in her legs clenched so

tightly they started to go numb. She felt the faint scrape of teeth and

then Michael was sucking her again, faster now. She clamped one hand

on the back of Michael’s head and pushed herself deeper between

Michael’s lips.

“Harder,” she gasped. “I’m close, baby.”

Michael’s eyes, brilliant with power and pleasure, found hers as

she worked her just the way she needed to finish.

“Coming,” Sloan shouted hoarsely, bending forward to cradle

Michael’s shoulders, climaxing wildly in her mouth. Michael didn’t

let up and the pressure doubled, tripled, until Sloan was writhing

and sweating and coming again. She fell onto her side, shuddering,

struggling for breath, tears leaking from her eyes.

Michael quickly rose up beside her and pulled her into her arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured, wiping the moisture from Sloan’s

face. She cradled her head and kissed her forehead, her eyes, her mouth.

“I love you. I love you completely.”

Sloan turned her face to Michael’s breasts, clinging to the sound

of her voice and the strong steady beat of her heart. “I’d do anything to

keep you safe.”

• 121 •

RADclY fFe

“I know. But the only thing that could ever hurt me is losing

you.”

“I love you,” Sloan whispered, wishing that were really enough.

v

Sandy, in one of Dell’s T-shirts and nothing else, curled up in the

corner of the disheveled sofa bed with a cup of coffee and watched

Dell get dressed. She loved the way Dell did everything with precision

and care, smoothing out the wrinkles in her T-shirt as she tucked the

bottom tightly into her jeans, placing her wallet squarely in her back

pocket, clipping her holster in just the right position on her hip. She

could picture Dell in a uniform like her sister Erica had worn, all bright

and shiny and flawless. Dell was like one of those poster soldiers,

representing everything that was good and brave and true. Except she

was real.

“You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”

Dell looked over, frowning. “Huh?”

“You know, like trying to save Irina and all those other girls and

getting yourself killed?”

“Jesus, babe. Where is this coming from?”

“You,” Sandy said softly, staring into the empty cup. “You forget

you’re not indestructible.”

Dell knelt down in front of Sandy, put the cup on the coffee table

behind her, and took both of Sandy’s hands. “I don’t forget. I’m a

good cop, San, and I’m not going to do anything reckless. I promise.”

She leaned forward and kissed Sandy on the mouth. “And look who’s

talking. Where did you go last night?”

Sandy shrugged. “Around.”

“Around where?”

“A couple places to meet up with some friends.”

“Uh-huh. Strip clubs down on the avenue, right?”

Sandy shrugged again.

“I carry a gun, babe. I’ve got backup. I know how to fight.” Dell

rested her forehead on Sandy’s knee, sliding her arms around Sandy’s

waist. “Jesus Christ. You’re out there all alone.”

Sandy grabbed a fistful of Dell’s hair and pulled her head up. She

• 122 •

Justice for All

stared fiercely into her face. “I’m not stupid, either. I carry a phone, I

watch where I’m going. I have friends out there who watch out for me.

I want to come home to you too.”

“I wish you weren’t doing what you’re doing for Frye.”

Sandy blinked. Dell hadn’t said to stop, she’d just said she wished

she wouldn’t. Dell was scared. Her brave, steady cop was scared. “I

know, baby. And I’ll be careful.”

“Fuck, this is hard,” Dell muttered.

“Yeah.” Sandy tugged on Dell’s hair. “I want to know what

happens with Irina.”

“Aw, babe—”

“I mean it, rookie. Because if you don’t tell me, I’m just going to

make things up in my head. And they’ll probably be a lot worse.”

“Hell.”

“Uh-huh.” Sandy smoothed Dell’s hair back and kissed her. She

played with Dell’s tongue and nudged her knee into Dell’s crotch until

Dell made a hungry sound. Then she pulled back. “I guess we’re just

going to have to trust each other.”

Dell smiled crookedly. “I guess so.”

“Call me later?”

“I will. Go back to bed. I’ve got to meet with the team.” Dell took

a long breath. “After I get some coffee and stuff for Irina.”

Sandy’s eyes flashed, but she just nodded. “Okay.” She brushed

her hand over Dell’s chest. “Just remember where you belong.”

Dell grinned. “I got it. No problem.”

Sandy curled up on the couch and willed herself back to sleep. She

didn’t want to hear Dell’s footsteps going down the hall toward Irina.

v

Dell unlocked the apartment door, knocked softly, and let herself

in—holding her breath until she saw Irina perched on the front

windowsill, watching the street. Her wavy dark hair was wet and she

wore a pair of Dell’s jeans and a button-down-collar cotton shirt that

was tight across her breasts.

“I guess you found the shower.” Dell handed her a cup of coffee

and a muffin from Dunkin’ Donuts.

• 123 •

RADclY fFe

“Yes. And the clothes.” Irina nodded toward the bag she’d taken

from her house the night before. “I borrowed yours. I need to wash

mine. They have footprints on them.”

“There’s a place around the corner.” Dell took her wallet out and

handed Irina a twenty. “It takes quarters, so you’ll have to stop at one

of the bodegas to get change.”

Irina stared at the money.

“You know how to make change, and everything, right?”

“I know the money.” She looked at Dell. “But no one has ever

given me any before.”

“What about—” Dell flushed, about to ask her about the johns.

Jesus, could she be any more of an ass?

“None of us got to keep anything we…earned. The enforcers…

they gave us everything. Food. Clothes. Medicine.”

“They kept you dependent,” Dell said. “It’s hard to run away, to

fight back, when you have nothing and nowhere to go.”

Irina turned quickly to the window.

Dell put her hands in her pockets, feeling more like a fool. “I’m

sorry.”

“No. I…the coffee is good. Thank you.”

“I have to go out for a while,” Dell said to Irina’s back. “Like I said,

you’re not a prisoner, but you should be careful if you go anywhere.

People are probably looking for you.”

Irina turned around. “What is your real name?”

Dell tried not to fidget when Irina’s stare drifted from her breasts

to her crotch and lingered. She wondered if Irina liked women, then

wondered why she cared. “Dell.”

“Do you mind if I just call you Mitch?”

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

Irina nodded. “I will wait here. After the clothes washing, I will

wait here.”

“Good. Thanks.” Dell walked to the door. “I’ll be back.”

When Irina said nothing, she slipped out and closed the door.

• 124 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwELvE

She’s got a picture of her sister,” Dell said to the others gathered

around the conference table at Sloan’s. “But she won’t let me

see it. She doesn’t trust me, and I guess I don’t blame her.”

“If she won’t give it to you,” Watts said, slurping his coffee, “then

take it. She doesn’t have a lot of choice in this game.”

Dell shook her head, biting back a retort. “I’m not going to force

her to do anything. That’s not the way to get her to cooperate.” When

Watts raised his eyebrows, she hastily added, “Detective.”

“So what are you gonna do, big man,” Watts goaded. “Fuck her

until she’s brainless and begs to give you anything you want?”

“Watts,” Rebecca said in a steely voice.

“Well, for Christ’s sakes, Loo,” Watts snapped. “The girl’s a

criminal, but instead of getting her sweet little ass shipped back to

Mother Russia, she’s walking around here free as a bird. Telling us

what she’ll do and what she won’t.”

“She’s scared,” Dell said.

Watts muttered something about bleeding hearts.

“What do you suggest, Detective,” Rebecca said, giving Mitchell

her head. Mitchell was the one closest to Irina, and it was her ass on the

line. They had to trust Mitchell’s take on the situation. Rebecca didn’t

like it, not because she didn’t trust Mitchell, but because she was never

comfortable being forced to make decisions based on other people’s

judgments.

“If we’re going to get her to cooperate, I think we have to help her

find her sister. And the only way we’re going to do that is to promise

her sister will be safe.”

• 125 •

RADclY fFe

“Promise her Witsec, for both of them.” Sloan stood, coffee cup in

hand. “Anybody need a refill?”

“I’ll get it,” Jason said, rising as well. “And I agree. Offer her

protection—for both of them. Offer them a new life. It might buy Mitch

a safety net.”

Dell looked at Frye. “Can we?”

“I don’t know. Technically, she belongs to Clark.”

“Fucking Clark,” Watts muttered. “I say we do it.”

Rebecca swiveled on her chair and regarded him sharply. “Why

the sudden change?”

Watts shrugged. “Because it will burn Clark’s ass.” He shot a look

at Jason and Sloan. “And because it’s more likely to put Irina firmly on

our side, and that’s good for Mitch.”

“She might not be an easy sell,” Sloan said. “I’ve seen plenty of

girls sold into the sex trade in Southeast Asia. All they know is lies and

abuse. How much do you think she trusts you, Dell?”

“I don’t know. Some.”

“Are you banging her?” Watts asked.

Rebecca said, “Jesus, Watts.”

“No, I’m not,” Dell said stiffly.

“Well maybe you should. Then, when she’s all softened up, you

can—”

Dell shot to her feet and strode out of the room.

Rebecca rubbed her eyes. She’d slept soundly, but only for a few

hours. Her head throbbed dully. Better than the day before, but still

there. She pushed away from the table and stood. “Watts, go down to

the port with Jason. Then see if you can get a line on the Zamoras’

lieutenants from OC. They’re probably the ones playing messenger

with the Russians. Somebody get me some names.”

Watts looked in the direction Mitchell had gone, his expression

confused. “I was just saying—”

“Dell likes her,” Jason said softly to Watts. “And when Dell likes

a woman, she wants her treated right.”

“Oh. Well hell, that complicates things.”

Jason laughed. “So what else is new?”

v

• 126 •

Justice for All

“Sloan. Talk to you a minute?” Rebecca said as the conference

room began to clear.

“Sure.” Sloan hiked a hip onto the edge of the conference table.

When they were alone, she asked, “How are you feeling?”

“A little rough around the edges, but I’m getting there.”

“You and Watts can’t cover Mitch every night. I can take some

shifts. I’ve got a badge again, remember?” Sloan still couldn’t believe

Clark had given her official agent status when she began working with

Rebecca’s team. She wasn’t exactly a fed again, because she answered

to Rebecca, which suited her just fine. Rebecca she trusted.

“I can’t get departmental authorization for the manpower to cover

him twenty-four/seven,” Rebecca said. “No undercover agent gets that

kind of backup.”

“I’m not asking to get paid,” Sloan said.

“I appreciate your volunteering. I can use you.” Rebecca shrugged

into her wool blazer, as close as she ever came to a winter coat. “I want

to cover the two of them as tightly as we can for the first week or so,

until we get a feel for how things are working out with Irina. Then,

other than critical meets, we’ll have to rely on Mitch to call for backup

if he gets in a tight position.

“I’m good for it any time.”

“Thanks.” Rebecca considered the more pressing matter they

needed to square away. “About this fund-raiser—”

“Michael is going,” Sloan cut in. “She already had it scheduled—a

business thing. I forgot she told me. I’m still hoping to talk her out of

it.”

“She doesn’t have to get anywhere near Zamora,” Rebecca said

evenly. “If it comes to that.”

Sloan hesitated, then looked out into the main room, checking that

no one was around. “Something doesn’t feel right about this, Rebecca.

Not any of it. I don’t trust Clark. He’s always working the angles for

himself, and he doesn’t care who pays the price.”

“I’ve got the same feeling, but I can’t put my finger on the reason.

I’m going to talk to Clark today about Witsec, and I’ll see if I can get a

better feel for what he’s not telling us.”

“Call me. I’m heading over to Police Plaza for a while and check

on my boys. Make sure they haven’t fried the system while I’ve been

gone.”

• 127 •

RADclY fFe

“Thanks for lending me your car yesterday.” Rebecca grinned.

“Nice ride.”

Sloan sketched a salute. “Just don’t let Watts drive.”

Rebecca watched her walk away. Sloan was volatile at the best of

times and she’d been wrapped tight since Michael was injured. Still,

Rebecca trusted her. Whatever it was Sloan had done for the Justice

Department, she’d been good at it or Clark wouldn’t have pulled her

back in. And Rebecca needed someone with that kind of experience.

Sloan would keep her head, as long as Michael didn’t get drawn in.

Scanning the work area, Rebecca headed for the huge bank of

windows at the far end. As she expected, Mitchell was waiting there,

slouched with her hands in the pockets of her black jeans, rocking back

and forth in her heavy motorcycle boots.

“You want to finish your report?” Rebecca asked.

Dell continued to stare down at the choppy gray surface of the

river. “I’m sorry I lost it. I know he doesn’t mean half the things he

says.”

“He probably means the other half. But I promise you he’ll always

have your back.”

“I know.” Dell faced Rebecca. “Irina is used to protecting herself.

She handled the bartender at Ziggie’s last night really well. I think she

can get me inside.”

“You think the Russians will contact her again?”

“Once the word gets out that she’s been spotted at Ziggie’s, yeah, I

think so. Especially since she’s reaching out, like she wants to get back

to work.”

“You’re going back tonight, right?”

Dell nodded. “I’m taking her to the Troc first to meet the guys.

And Jasmine.”

“Good.” Rebecca studied the young detective. She looked calm,

despite the enormity of the operation and her position on point. She

looked solid. “How’s Sandy doing?”

“She’s good.” Dell took a breath. “I don’t think she should stay at

her apartment if Irina’s going to be down the hall.”

“I don’t imagine Sandy’s too happy about that.”

“She’s okay. But if trouble follows us home, I don’t want her

around. Besides, with Sandy working the streets for you, I think it

would be better to put some distance between us.”

• 128 •

Justice for All

“You’re right, but she’s not going to like it.”

“I can put her up in my condo for a while.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t think so. Too isolated. I know

their security is tight, but none of us are close enough if there’s trouble.”

She watched a tugboat push a huge oil barge up to one of the refinery

docks. “She can probably stay here with Michael and Sloan.”

“Oh, man, you think so? This place is like a fortress. And Sandy

really likes Michael.”

“I’ll check it out. In the meantime, how are you doing with

Irina?”

“Okay, no problem,” Dell said, flushing.

“You need to keep some objectivity there,” Rebecca said. “You

can’t let yourself get attached.”

“I know.”

Rebecca had run cops undercover before, but usually sting

operations on porn dealers or pimps. Nothing this long term or at such

a distance. She needed to know what might shake Mitchell up. She

needed to know what might get Mitchell killed. “Are you going to be

all right with her and the physical situation?”

“I don’t feel that way about her. I mean, she’s attractive and…”

Dell looked away, then squared her shoulders and met Rebecca’s gaze.

“I can’t help getting turned on sometimes. It’s not like I mean to, or

even want to. I…I’m keeping my focus, though.”

“I think it would be tough getting up close to her and not

feeling anything at all.” Rebecca was proud of Mitchell for admitting

something that a lot of cops wouldn’t. Whether it was drugs or girls or

easy money, temptation was everywhere, and no one wanted to admit

to being tempted, even when they managed to resist. “But you need to

keep your head clear. And that includes not feeling bad about reactions

out of your control.”

“I’m trying. I’m good.”

“I want you to talk to Catherine about it.”

Dell stiffened. “I don’t—”

“Not a request, Detective.” Rebecca gripped Mitchell’s shoulder.

“I trust you, okay? But you’ve got to be completely on top of things.

For your own safety. For Irina’s. And for Sandy’s. You read me?”

“Yes ma’am, Lieutenant.”

“Good. I’ll tell her you’ll be by today.” Rebecca touched her

• 129 •

RADclY fFe

knuckles briefly to the edge of Mitchell’s jaw. “You’re doing a good

job.”

“Thank you,” Dell whispered as Rebecca walked away, the praise

running through her like a warm caress. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

v

“Of course I’ll make time to see her,” Catherine said when Rebecca

phoned her. “I’ll tell Joyce to fit her in whenever she calls. What about

Irina?”

“I’m on my way to see Clark right now,” Rebecca said. “Hopefully

we’ll be able to put her with you in the next day or so.”

“All right, darling. Are you driving?”

“Yes, but not very far. Just—”

“How’s your vision?”

“Perfect. A little headache,” Rebecca volunteered, “but otherwise

no problems at all.”

“Will you do me a favor?”

“Yes.”

“Go home for a few hours this afternoon. Take a nap.”

Rebecca did some quick mental calculations. She wanted to

shadow Mitchell when she took Irina to the Troc and Ziggie’s, and

that meant being out on surveillance most of the night. In fact, almost

everything that was going on in the operation was going to happen

at night. She could take a few hours’ downtime during the day. She

wouldn’t ordinarily, but Catherine asked so little of her. “All right. I

will. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Thank you, darling. I love you. I’ve got to go. Patients.”

“I’ll call you later. Love you.” Rebecca disconnected and pulled

into the underground parking lot below the federal building at Sixth and

Market. With any luck, she’d be able to track Clark down.

v

Kratos Zamora touched the edge of the linen napkin to his mouth,

then deposited it next to the china plate in front of him. He placed

the heavy silver knife and fork engraved with the crest of the Union

Club together on the plate and smiled at Talia. Seated across from him,

• 130 •

Justice for All

she wore a red dress in a style appropriate for a business meeting, but

even the subdued lines and conservative cut couldn’t hide her inherent

sensuality. He enjoyed the persistent arousal her presence always

instilled. He always found the unattainable exciting.

“How was the lamb?” he asked.

“Delicious.” Talia sipped her wine, aware of the glances from

the mostly male diners. Only a few years ago, women had not been

welcome as members of the elite business club, and she wagered that

Kratos had not been welcome either. At one time his lineage would

have been enough to deny him entry, but now, money was the main

requirement. Money legitimized everyone and abolished social divides,

at least on the surface.

“Might I hope that the reason for your lunch invitation was simply

that you wanted my company?” Kratos inquired, reaching across the

table to stroke Talia’s hand.

Carefully, she shifted her hand to her wineglass, not wanting to

make the movement appear as a rejection to him or anyone who might

be watching. Swirling the claret before sipping, she allowed the wine to

linger on her tongue, inhaling slowly, savoring the bouquet. She knew

he was watching. His eyes were hungry. “I’ll need some time to breach

Sloan’s system.”

“But you can do it.”

Talia smiled. “Of course.”

“Good.”

Talia was silent as the waiter glided up to the table. When he

inquired if there was anything else she needed, she replied, “Espresso,

please.”

“Very good, madam. And for you, sir?”

“Just coffee.”

When he disappeared as soundlessly as he had arrived, Talia said,

“Someone like her could be very valuable.”

“What do you mean?” Kratos asked.

“She could do anything she wanted and no one would have the

expertise to detect it. And she has direct access.” Talia shrugged.

“Interviews, files, evidence—all of it.”

“Can’t you do the same thing?”

“I’m touched by your faith,” Talia said with a faintly mocking

• 131 •

RADclY fFe

lilt. “Yes, given enough time. But I can guarantee that Sloan’s primary

agenda right now is to make the central files as impregnable as possible.

It would be so much nicer if she were helping us get in rather than

working to keep us out.”

“What kind of leverage do we have?”

“This.” Talia reached into her purse and withdrew the photograph

of Sloan and the blonde in the ambulance. She’d added another clipping

after searching newspaper archives that morning.

Kratos took the two photographs and stared at the woman who

had caught his attention in the surveillance videos. The caption said her

name was Michael Lassiter. Michael. She was wholly feminine, and

the androgyny of her name only heightened her allure. Enjoying his

instantaneous erection, he brushed his thumb along the outline of her

body. “Sloan’s lover?”

“It would appear so.”

“We can’t touch her.” He shook his head. “Not after all the attention

our Russian friends stirred up recently.”

Talia laughed softly. “You can’t honestly think I was suggesting

something as crude as that, can you?”

Kratos frowned. “What then?”

“How would you like to get to know Ms. Lassiter personally?”

“I’d like nothing better,” he said, his gaze drifting to her mouth.

“Almost nothing.”

v

Avery Clark didn’t keep Rebecca waiting long, once she’d found

his office in the warren of hallways lined with nondescript wooden doors

and frosted glass windows. She announced herself to the lone secretary

in the tiny waiting room and had just settled into an uncomfortable,

thinly upholstered chair against the wall when Clark himself opened

another unadorned door at the rear of the room and gestured her inside

with a surprisingly friendly smile.

Rebecca followed him into the inner office and closed the door,

waiting for him to walk around behind his plain gray metal desk before

she sat in yet another uncomfortable chair in front of it. With his jacket

off and his white shirt sleeves rolled up, Clark was standard government

issue—somewhere between thirty-five and forty, brown hair, dark steel-

• 132 •

Justice for All

framed glasses, conservative haircut, conventional suit, dark tie, plain

shirt. Wedding ring, hip holster, sharp eyes.

“Lieutenant,” he said, settling into the fake black leather desk

chair. He tilted back slightly and swiveled a few degrees from side to

side. “Back to work already? Glad to see that injury isn’t slowing you

down.”

“Thanks,” Rebecca replied, wondering just how glad Clark really

was to see her back on the job. Her headache had ratcheted up the

moment she’d walked into the federal building. She doubted the dull

throbbing behind her eyes had anything to do with her injury. She’d

never liked the politics of law enforcement, but now that she’d been

promoted, she had no choice but to navigate the murky waters populated

by self-interested elected officials, federal agents, and local police.

Power and control were the sought-after prizes, and public perception

often more important than results. It wasn’t a game she liked, but she

had to play.

“I appreciate you all helping us out,” Clark said.

“We didn’t exactly have a choice on that, since you went over our

heads with the plan.”

Clark shrugged, his smile still in place, his expression a mixture

of false innocence and self-satisfaction. “Time was of the essence, so I

just wanted to avoid getting bogged down in red tape. I’m sure you can

appreciate that.”

“What I’d appreciate,” Rebecca said, holding his gaze, “is a look

at the statements from Irina Guterov and the other girls in that house,

along with whatever you have on the Russian connection to local crime.

You want us to do your legwork and the brass agrees. I don’t intend to

do it blind.”

“Well,” Clark said as if he were thinking, “the girls didn’t really

give us much. They don’t know very much. Most of them don’t even

speak English.”

“Irina does.”

“True, which is why we can use her.” Clark’s eyes narrowed.

“Girls like Irina are not that easy to replace. The Russians need women

like her to indoctrinate the new girls into the system. The fresh ones

have to be taught how to behave at private parties, what to expect when

they go to a video shoot, how to handle johns at the clubs. They’re

going to want her back, and soon.”

• 133 •

RADclY fFe

“I agree.” Rebecca crossed her legs, letting her arms drape

casually along the wooden armrests. His casual dismissal of the plight

of the girls, all victims, even Irina, grated on her. But she hadn’t come

to fight a battle she couldn’t win. “What makes you think we can trust

her?”

“She doesn’t want to go back to Russia.” Clark shrugged. “And

then there’s the matter of her sister. She wants to find her. She wants to

protect her. All things considered, we’ve got serious leverage.”

“Where is her sister?”

Clark shook his head. “No idea. The sister arrived here after

Guterov. Not that long ago, apparently, as some sort of reward for

Guterov’s cooperation in running the other girls. Except the Russians

didn’t put them together the way they promised.”

“Using a little leverage of their own,” Rebecca mused. Keeping

Irina obligated to them—first with promises to bring her sister to this

country, then by stringing her along and keeping them apart.

“Yes. Threats against families are one of the traditional means of

controlling these girls.”

“So the sister might not even be in the city.”

“Possibly, although she probably is. They don’t cycle them out of

here that quickly, and I suspect they’d keep her close in case Guterov

threatened to stop working if they didn’t produce her.”

“I don’t want Irina trading my officer for her sister,” Rebecca said.

“Now that she’s back on the streets, she might be tempted to do that.”

Clark looked unconcerned. “She knows we can pick her up and

deport her.”

“Not good enough. I want incentive for her to stay on our side. I

want Witsec for her and her sister.”

Clark pursed his lips. “Witsec is expensive. It’s getting pretty

selective these days, too, especially when we’re trying to persuade

people to testify against terrorists.”

“Get them to make an exception. My undercover officer has to be

protected.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“I want an answer soon or I’ll pull my people out.”

“Your captain won’t be happy about that. Neither will the

commissioner.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

• 134 •

Justice for All

Clark studied Rebecca and whatever he saw in her face must have

convinced him she wasn’t bluffing. He nodded. “I’ll get back to you.”

“So tell me about Kratos Zamora.”

“He’s a businessman. A very wealthy one.” Clark spread his hands.

“And a staunch supporter of the present administration.”

“What’s your interest?”

“His family may be doing business with persons of interest to

us.”

“His family? Or him?”

“That’s what I was hoping you could help us with.”

Rebecca’s internal temperature soared to just below boiling, but

she didn’t move an inch. She reminded herself that just because she

and Clark were supposed to be on the same side didn’t make them

teammates. “Help how?”

“You can tell a lot about a person by the company they keep. And

the people they do business with.”

“His business interests should be a matter of record. One thing you

federal types are good at is chasing paper trails.” Clark’s expression

shuttered closed, but Rebecca didn’t care if he was insulted. He wanted

to use her and give nothing in return. “Besides, his brother heads the

family.”

“That’s what Kratos would like us to believe,” Clark said. “We’re

not so sure. That’s why we want a more personal look at him. Business

gets discussed at events like this fund-raiser tomorrow night. Alliances

are forged. We want to know who’s in his inner circle.”

“Why don’t you put your people on him?”

“Because he’s smart and he’s careful,” Clark said, frustration

evident in his voice. “All we need is an initial legitimate business

connection. Then we can insert our people and run with it.”

“I can’t help you. Sloan has plenty of connections in the private

sector, but if the Zamoras don’t know about her working with us, they

would soon enough.”

“I wasn’t thinking of Sloan.”

Rebecca shook her head. “Who then?”

“Innova Design is one of the biggest companies on the East Coast.

And Michael Lassiter—”

“She’s a civilian,” Rebecca snapped. “She nearly died already and

she’s completely untrained.”

• 135 •

RADclY fFe

“I don’t expect her to do undercover work,” Clark shot back. “All

we need is the initial overture and then we’ll put our people inside her

firm.”

“No.”

“Think about it.”

“I already have.” Rebecca rose. “And the answer is still no.”

• 136 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER ThIRTEEN

Since Joyce, Catherine’s secretary, had gone to lunch, Catherine

checked the waiting area herself a few minutes after one. As

she expected, her special appointment was waiting. “Dellon. Hello,

come on in.”

“Thanks for seeing me.” Dell followed her into the office, removed

her windbreaker, and took her customary chair in front of Catherine’s

desk. “The lieutenant thought we should talk.”

“What do you think?” Catherine settled into a chair facing Dellon.

The first time they’d met, Dellon had sat nearly at attention in her seat,

feet firmly on the floor, eyes straight ahead. Today, she was a little more

relaxed, her back still not touching the chair, but her shoulders no longer

rigid. In her black street clothes, with her black hair and dark eyes, she

was wildly attractive. Catherine could imagine her capturing the eye

of any number of females, of any age. That kind of sexual magnetism

could pose a problem, especially in the kind of work she was doing.

“I think if the lieutenant thinks it’s a good idea, it is,” Dell said.

“That is a very diplomatic answer.” Catherine laughed softly. “So

how are you?”

Dell grinned and interlaced her fingers, resting her hands between

her thighs. “I think I’m doing okay, but…there’s a lot going on, you

know?”

“I know some of the details of the operation. Why don’t you tell

me how you see it.”

“The assignment’s great,” Dell said enthusiastically, filling

Catherine in on the basic details. “It’s good. It’s what I want to do. I

feel like…”

• 137 •

RADclY fFe

“Like what?” Catherine asked after a minute of silence.

“Like I’m doing something that no one else can do. ’Cause I’m

really good at this undercover thing.” Dell smiled. “Well, Mitch is,

anyhow.”

“Is Mitch a police officer too?” Catherine leaned closer as Dell

stared. “By that, I mean does Mitch make decisions from the same set

of rules and regulations that a police officer would?”

Dell frowned. “Um.”

“You know this is private, don’t you?” Catherine said gently.

Dellon had matured since their first meeting. She’d filled out,

metaphorically, from a heartbreakingly innocent young officer into a

confident detective. Catherine was glad to see the changes, because she

knew Dellon would be safer on the streets, but growth spurts like that

could leave someone off balance. And that could be dangerous.“Even

though your lieutenant thinks it’s a good idea that we talk, what we

discuss here is between us.”

“Yes ma’am. I know that. It’s just…I never thought about it

before. Mitch…yeah, Mitch is a cop. I mean, when I’m Mitch, I still

think like a cop, even if I have to do things I might not do when I’m

not undercover.”

“What kind of things?”

Dell stared at her hands. “The things I do with Irina. I wouldn’t do

them with her, with anyone.”

“When you’re intimate.”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel guilty about it?”

Dell searched Catherine’s eyes. “Should I?”

Catherine smiled and waited.

“I don’t feel guilty about Mitch acting like Irina’s boyfriend. I

mean, when you’re undercover, you have to be into it. It’s gotta be real.

If it isn’t, it won’t work.”

“That makes sense,” Catherine said. “So when Mitch and Irina act

like lovers—when they’re physically intimate, that feels okay.”

Dell nodded. Then after a second, she shook her head.

“Yes and no? A little of both?”

“It’s okay we kiss and fool around.” Dell slowly met Catherine’s

gaze. “It’s not okay that I…want to.”

• 138 •

Justice for All

“You want to be intimate with Irina.” Catherine waited until Dell

nodded again. “Do you want to make love with her?”

“Sometimes. I mean, I get turned on and part of me wants to keep

going.”

“What about when you’re not actually being physically intimate

with her? Do you think about making love with her when you’re not

with her? Do you look forward to seeing her and hope you have a

chance to have sex?”

“No.” Dell straightened her shoulders and set her feet squarely on

the floor. “No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t love her.”

Catherine wanted to smile, but she kept her expression neutral.

Oh, she could see this one breaking hearts everywhere she went. “So let

me see if I understand. You find her physically attractive, but you’re not

in love with her and you aren’t interested in having a sexual relationship

with her.”

“Right,” Dell said when Catherine paused.

“But when you have to be physical with her because of the roles

you’re both playing, you become aroused.”

“Yes.”

“What is there about your body’s response in that situation that

makes you worry?”

“I bet the lieutenant wouldn’t get turned on. I bet she’d be cool.

She’s always in control.”

“Everyone is different, Dellon,” Catherine said, carefully not

thinking about her lover becoming aroused with another woman. She’d

have to think about it later, especially the quick surge of jealous anger

the idea provoked. “Our bodies are different, our physical triggers are

different. That’s neither good nor bad. It’s just a fact.”

“So you don’t think I should feel guilty about it?”

“I think when you’re working, the most important thing is that you

keep your mind clear. It’s important for your safety and Irina’s that you

be totally focused on the situation. If you’re worried about what you’re

feeling, put that aside temporarily.” Catherine squeezed Dellon’s arm.

“You can talk to me about it later, if you want to.”

“Sandy says she never got turned on when she was working,” Dell

• 139 •

RADclY fFe

said in a low voice. “That always made me glad. I hate thinking about

her touching anyone else. Having them touch her.”

“Sandy isn’t you, Dell. And what she was doing is very different

than what you’re doing. There are some similarities, yes. The physical

interaction with someone you don’t love—that’s the same. But there

are so many differences, you can’t compare them.”

“I can tell she doesn’t like Mitch and Irina spending time together,

but she’s trying to deal.”

“Are the two of you able to talk about it?”

“Some.” Dell sighed. “We’re working on it.”

“Good. That’s exactly what you need to do.” Catherine hesitated,

wondering if she should talk to Rebecca, then pushed on. “If the two of

you want to talk with me, you can call me.”

“Yeah?” Dell’s eyes brightened.

“Yes. There are no rules for what you’re doing, Dellon, and I think

you’re doing a terrific job. Both you and Sandy.”

“Could you tell my lieutenant that?”

“Oh, I most definitely will.” Catherine stood. “Come see me next

week, all right?”

“Okay, yeah. That would be good.” Dell rose and slid her hands

in her pockets. Rocking back on her heels, she grinned. “I guess the

lieutenant was right about me coming to see you. She’s pretty much

always right.”

Catherine laughed. “Let’s not remind her of that.”

v

Watts rapped on the partially open door of the large utilitarian

room with one wall of windows overlooking the docks at the Packer

Avenue terminal of the Port of Philadelphia. A robust African-American

woman in a spit-and-polish uniform looked up from behind a desk when

he pushed the door open a few more inches.

Captain Carla Reiser smiled, her smooth mocha features relaxing,

taking ten years off her already youthful face, and dropped the sheaf

of papers she was studying onto the center of her desk. “Bill. Good to

see you.”

“Yeah. You too.” Watts ambled a few feet into the room. “Busy?”

• 140 •

Justice for All

“Half a dozen of my dock supervisors have been arrested and I’ve

got feds crawling all over my port.” Carla shrugged. “Normal day.”

Watts laughed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Social visit?” Carla’s voice held just a hint of playfulness and

Watts tried not to grin like an idiot. Carla headed security for the whole

port, and she’d helped orchestrate the interception of the last shipment

of girls from Eastern Europe. She was sharp and savvy and smart, and

he couldn’t believe his luck that a woman like her even noticed he was

alive.

“You remember Jason?” Watts asked.

“The blond computer cop, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Watts was foolishly pleased that she hadn’t

commented on how good-looking Jason was. Everyone always referred

to him as too handsome to be a man. Geez, it could give a guy a complex.

“He’s up at the IT center, poking around in your computers, trying to

figure out who did what and how.”

“If he finds anything, I hope he lets me know.”

“What about the feds? Are they turning up anything?”

“Who knows. If they talk to you, then you’re doing a lot better

than me.”

“That’s a no, then,” Watts grunted.

Carla gestured to the worn plaid sofa pushed against one wall. “Sit

down. Coffee?”

“I’ll get it. I’m up.” Watts poured coffee from the Pyrex carafe

into two oversized Styrofoam cups, added powdered creamer, stirred

both with one of the wooden sticks from a nearby tray, and carried the

cups back to the couch. Carla had settled into one corner, and he handed

her the coffee. “Light, no sugar, right?”

“Very good.”

He felt himself coloring and hastily sat down on the opposite end

of the sofa. “So are you catching any heat from the arrests, or shouldn’t

I ask?”

“I’m the ranking officer in charge on-site. All my superiors man

desks downtown.” Carla sipped her coffee, her eyes contemplative.

“They’re looking at me, but they haven’t put me on administrative

leave. Yet.”

“That blows.”

• 141 •

RADclY fFe

Carla laughed. “It surely does.” She shifted until her knee touched

his and leaned forward. “I don’t believe for a minute that those six

supervisors were anywhere near the top of the food chain. Whoever

was running this operation had to have international connections and

some way of moving human beings and God knows what else out of

this port. I want them.”

“You’re gonna have to get in line,” Watts said softly. “These guys

almost killed my lieutenant.”

“I heard you had casualties. Is she okay?”

“Back on the job,” Watts said.

“Tough.”

Watts nodded. “Oh yeah.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Just clear Jason to look at anything he wants to, should anybody

ask. If anyone balks at that, let us know, and we’ll look extra hard at

them.” Watson set his cup on the scarred coffee table in front of the

sofa. “Got any ideas where we ought to look?”

“I’ve got four warehouses and a hundred thirty loading docks at

this terminal alone. We have thousands of containers offloading every

month. Do we lose one for a few hours or a day because bills of lading

were filled out incorrectly by someone who doesn’t even speak English

ten thousand miles away? Yes. Does contraband come through inside

the cars or barrels of cocoa beans or tons of clothing merchandise?

Undoubtedly.” She shook her head angrily. “But people? Human beings

transported across the ocean in pitch-black unvented metal coffins? If I

had any idea which of my officers helped, I’d drag their sorry carcasses

to you myself.”

“I guess that’s why they call those girls slaves,” Watts said. Then

he thought of what he had said, and to whom. “Well fuck. Sorry, I didn’t

mean—”

“No need to apologize, Bill.” Carla collected their cups and threw

them into the trash. Back at her desk, she scribbled something on the

back of a business card and held it out to him. “Give this to Jason. It’s

my direct number. Anything he needs, tell him to call me.”

“Thanks,” Watts said, pocketing the card. “Well, I have to get back

to headquarters.”

Watts was almost to the door when Carla said, “Bill.”

He turned, aware he was holding his breath.

• 142 •

Justice for All

Carla’s eyes sparkled as if she were about to laugh, and the

lighthearted expression made her look welcoming and sexy at the same

time. “How about dinner some night?”

“How about tomorrow?”

v

“For how long, Dell?” Sandy exclaimed, standing across the small

room, her arms folded tightly beneath her breasts.

Dell could almost see her quiver. She hoped with anger, not hurt.

“I don’t know, babe. A few days, a week maybe.”

“Or two weeks? Or three? Maybe a month?” Sandy’s voice shook.

“You want me to stay at Michael’s, in a strange bed, alone, while you’re

here with Irina? Going out with her every night. Coming home with

her?”

Sandy looked around the room, her eyes wild. For a second,

Dell thought she might be looking for something to throw. She took a

cautious step forward. Then another. When Sandy wouldn’t even look

at her, she kept going until she was right in front of her. Inches away.

Then she very gently rested her hands on Sandy’s shoulders. Sandy still

wouldn’t look at her, so she tilted her head down until their eyes could

meet. “I’ll come over there whenever I can. You think I want to sleep

without you?”

When Sandy didn’t answer, Dell tucked two fingers under her

chin and turned her head until she was sure Sandy had focused on her.

“When are you going to believe me? I love you. Like crazy. Like so

much all I think about is you.”

She kissed her, letting her lips linger on Sandy’s mouth even

though Sandy did not return her kiss. She brushed her lips back and

forth until Sandy’s breath fluttered out on a sigh, then danced her tongue

over Sandy’s lower lip until Sandy’s arms slipped around her neck. The

tightness in Dell’s chest eased and she moved them backward to the

sofa. Then she pulled Sandy down beside her, keeping Sandy in the

curve of her arm, tight against her body.

“Why don’t you trust me?” Dell asked.

Sandy thumped her arm. “It’s not about that.”

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about me missing you.”

• 143 •

RADclY fFe

“You think I won’t miss you?”

“You’ll be working,” Sandy said softly, her voice muffled against

Dell’s T-shirt.

Dell shifted the short soft strands of Sandy’s hair through her

fingers. “I’ll always be working. That doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking

about you. Jesus, San, I love you.”

Sandy sat back, her eyes searching Dell’s face. She remembered

a conversation she’d had with Frye, one of those up close and personal

ones she’d rather not have. Frye had said if she loved Dell she couldn’t

make her crazy, because then Dell wouldn’t be thinking about work.

Instead she’d be thinking about her, and she’d get hurt.

“I love you too,” Sandy told her. “I like knowing you’re coming

home to me. I like coming home to you. I like it a lot.”

“Fuck.” Dell pushed her fingers through her hair. “I thought I was

doing a good thing, moving you out of here. I don’t like Mitch and

Irina being so close to you. I don’t know what the guys Irina has been

working with will do when she hooks up with them again.”

“You think they’ll hurt her?”

“I don’t know. Probably not. But just the same—”

“You’re gonna be with her, Dell. What about you getting hurt?”

Sandy slapped Dell’s chest. “And don’t give me that crap about you

being a cop. You don’t wear a vest when you’re with her. Anything

could happen.”

“Maybe,” Dell admitted. She wasn’t going to insult Sandy by

blowing smoke at her. “But I’ll have backup. The lieutenant and Watts

are following me.”

“Yeah, just like they were following you when you went into

that house with her the last time. Frye almost ended up dead.” Sandy

grabbed Dell’s face between her hands. “If something happens to you,

rookie, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Dell covered Sandy’s hands with hers. “That’s how I feel about

you, don’t you get it? I’m totally soft for you, babe.”

Sandy laughed, her eyes flickering down to Dell’s crotch. “Since

when?”

“Up here,” Dell said, tapping her forehead.

Sandy straddled Dell’s lap. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Uh…it’s hard for me to think right now.”

• 144 •

Justice for All

“Try.” Sandy leaned forward and kissed Dell fleetingly before

leaning back.

“Working.” Dell could tell from Sandy’s stare that she wasn’t

going to get away with anything short of details. “At the Troc. Then

Ziggie’s. Then I don’t know.”

“Jesus, Dell,” Sandy whispered. “You gotta be careful.”

“I will. I promise.”

Sandy kissed her again, but it wasn’t a fuck me kiss. It was an

I love you more than anything kiss. Then she climbed off Dell’s lap,

walked to the small closet, and pulled out a worn floral fabric suitcase.

“What are you doing?” Dell asked, her voice hoarse.

“Packing some stuff to go to Michael’s.”

“You sure?”

Sandy looked over her shoulder and made herself smile. “Yeah,

Michael is cool. No problem.”

“I’ll be there later tonight.”

“Okay. That’s good.”

Sandy carried the bag to the dresser just inside the door and started

pulling items from the drawers. Dell went up behind her and put her

arms around her, tugging Sandy back against her chest. She nuzzled

Sandy’s neck. “I know you don’t want to.”

“I said it’s okay.”

“I know. But it sucks. And I’m sorry.”

Sandy turned in Dell’s arms and pressed into the curve of Dell’s

body until not even a whisper stood between them. “I want to do this

for you.”

“Thank you,” Dell murmured, amazed when her eyes filled with

tears. She probably should have been embarrassed, but she wasn’t. She

just held on more tightly. “Thank you.”

• 145 •

• 146 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER FOURTEEN

Michael had just finished changing from her work clothes

into loose cotton slacks and a pullover when Sandy buzzed

from downstairs. Tugging the clasp from her hair, she shook out the

shoulder-length waves on the way to the elevator.

“I hope you didn’t eat,” she said when Sandy emerged. “I just

ordered Chinese.”

“That sounds great. Thanks for letting me crash here again.” Sandy

followed Michael to the spare bedroom and dropped her suitcase by the

closet. She plopped down on the bed and stared at her hands.

“You’re always welcome.” Michael sat next to Sandy. “We can go

into the office together on Monday.”

“Geez. That seems like such a normal thing to do.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Michael took Sandy’s hand. “So what’s the

deal?”

“Dell wants to stash me somewhere so she can shack up with

Irina.”

“That’s handy. And you went along with it? Big of you.” Michael’s

tone was teasing.

Sandy cut her a look. “Yeah right. As if.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”

“But she does want me out of the way for a while. In case things

get hinky.”

“Will you hate me if I say I think that makes sense?”

Sandy picked at the seam on the inside of her pale pink pants.

“No. I get why she wants to do it this way. But I don’t like it.”

“I don’t blame you. Needing to leave your house is really

upsetting.”

• 147 •

RADclY fFe

“Yeah well,” Sandy muttered, “when Dell got the apartment

down the hall from me, we didn’t know she was going to end up with a

girlfriend. Another girlfriend.”

“You’re not worried about Irina, are you?”

“Oh, no. She’s only practically gotten Mitch to fuck her two or

three times already.” Sandy shifted further onto the bed and folded

her legs beneath her. She glared at Michael. “And trust me. When a

girl grabs a guy’s dick, he stops thinking about anything. Including his

girlfriend.”

“Ah, I won’t argue.” Michael smiled. “Although I don’t think it’s

completely a guy thing.”

Sandy snorted. “Okay. I suppose when Dell starts in on me I’m not

thinking about much of anything either.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Sloan too?”

“She can be persuasive.” Michael gave Sandy’s hand a shake.

“I’ve got a really good idea.”

“What?”

“Let’s open a bottle of wine, eat Chinese, and watch a movie.”

“Can I still bitch about Irina?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Sandy glanced around. “Sloan still at work?”

“She’s in a meeting with Rebecca. I think she’ll be there for a

while.”

Sandy smiled. “In that case…what about sharing the inside scoop

on her when she’s being persuasive.”

“I don’t like to brag.”

Laughing, Sandy bumped Michael’s hip with hers. “Yeah yeah.

I’ll just stick to my fantasies.”

v

“So what’ve we got?” Rebecca asked when she found Sloan

working at a computer in HPCU headquarters.

“Pull up a chair,” Sloan said, hitting a few more keystrokes before

swiveling to face her. “Someone’s trying to get into our network.”

• 148 •

Justice for All

“And that’s unusual?”

Sloan shook her head. “Not really. Random intrusions are very

common. Usually they’re probes launched en masse looking for

susceptible computers to access.”

“I take it this isn’t random?”

“No. This is a very subtle and very smart assault. They hit the

computers at Police Plaza too. Had more success there because the

network’s not fully shielded yet.”

“All right,” Rebecca said. “Run this down for me. What are we

looking at here?”

“Since I don’t believe in coincidences,” Sloan said, “I have to

believe this is the same person who infiltrated Police Plaza before.”

“I thought we tracked that back to Beecher, and he’s dead.”

Sloan shook her head. “No. Beecher was the entry point. But he

didn’t set it up himself. He was a middleman. A cyberbagman.”

Rebecca smiled grimly. “I get it. And now that the bagman is out

of the equation, we’re moving up the ladder.”

“Oh yeah. Way up the ladder.” Sloan glanced at the monitor, then

back at Rebecca. “There’s probably only a handful of people in the

country that could do this. If you take out Jason and me, maybe three

or four.”

“Do you know who they are?”

Sloan’s eyes narrowed. “Ten years ago I would have. When I was

still with Justice.”

“Son of a bitch. Clark knows, doesn’t he?”

“I’d bet money on it. I bet he’s known all along.” Sloan leaned

back in her chair and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

“He’s playing us.”

“What do you he think he wants?”

“What every fed wants. A high-level informant inside the organized

crime family.”

“And this thing with Irina and Mitch?”

“He’s hedging his bets. Irina might pay off for them, but she’s a

long shot.” Sloan thought about Clark and Kratos Zamora and Michael.

There were no coincidences. Avery Clark would use anyone, risk

anyone, to get what he wanted. “There are no good guys anymore.”

“Wrong,” Rebecca said softly. “There’s us.”

• 149 •

RADclY fFe

Sloan swung back to her monitor, not wanting Rebecca to read the

truth in her eyes. She hadn’t been one of the good guys for a long time,

and with every day that passed, and every time she faced the evidence

of another betrayal, she knew she moved further away from the light.

Rebecca might believe that their leaders weren’t corrupted, but she

didn’t any longer. “I don’t want Clark to know we suspect. I want to let

this guy try to get in, and every time he does, I’ll chase him back to his

hole. I’ll find him.”

“I want to know when you do.” Rebecca waited in the silence,

letting Sloan make her choices.

“Right,” Sloan said quietly.

Rebecca rested her hand on Sloan’s back. The muscles beneath

her fingers were tight as steel. “You’re wrong, you know.”

“How’s that,” Sloan said hoarsely.

“There are still people you can trust.”

When Sloan turned around, Rebecca was gone. She wanted to

believe her, needed to believe her. She needed not to feel so alone.

v

Mitch was a lot better at dressing than he used to be, but he really

missed having Sandy around to approve the details. He smoothed his

hand over his chest to be sure the Ace wrap lay smooth beneath his

black T-shirt. Lucky for him, he didn’t have a lot to hide up top and his

naturally rangy build meant he didn’t have much in the hip department

either. He opened a drawer on his side of the dresser and selected a

new item he’d never used before, a semi-rigid cock that let him pack

comfortably, show a little more in his jeans than a softy would, and

have a pretty functional dick if he needed it. Not that he planned on

using it with Irina, but if he was taking her out and about, he wanted

to come off to anyone checking them out like a guy who planned on

treating his girl right.

As he checked his hair and the little bit of makeup he used to

darken the angle of his jaw, he thought back to the first time Jasmine

had shown up in his apartment with an array of dicks. He’d been

embarrassed and excited. Jasmine had helped him get ready, but it had

been Sandy, who had looked at him and immediately seen Mitch, that

had made everything work. That still made everything work. He didn’t

• 150 •

Justice for All

think he could do this job without her. He checked his watch. He had

two minutes. He called her.

“Hi, babe,” he said when Sandy answered.

“Mitch?”

“Uh-huh.”

After a moment, Sandy said, “Ready to head out?”

Mitch knew she was trying to sound casual. “Soon. Whatcha

doing?”

“Watching an old movie with Michael and getting buzzed. I think

I like red wine.”

“What movie,” Mitch asked, smiling at the thought of Sandy

getting into wine.

“St. Elmo’s Fire. There’s this guy who kinda reminds me of you.

Except he’s an asshole.”

“Who?” Mitch heard Sandy say something to Michael, but couldn’t

quite make it out.

“Rob Lowe.”

“We’ll have to watch it together.”

“So I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Mitch said. “It’ll be late.”

“I don’t care about that.” More silence. “So be careful, rookie.

See you.”

“See you, babe.”

Mitch disconnected, patted his pockets to be sure his wallet was in

place, double-checked that his jeans didn’t bunch up around his ankle

holster, and grabbed his jacket on the way out the door. When he got

to Irina’s—his—apartment, he knocked. When she didn’t answer after

a few minutes, he knocked again. Swearing, he used his key and let

himself in. The efficiency was empty. The blanket was folded neatly on

one corner of the mattress. He checked the refrigerator. A container of

milk, a carton of eggs, butter, an apple. A pot rested upside down on the

drain board next to the sink. So she’d shopped. She probably wouldn’t

have done that if she were skipping out on him.

He walked to the closet and pulled it open. A stack of clothes sat

on the top shelf. A few blouses hung from hangers. He sniffed them.

They were clean. She’d done laundry. But where had she gone? Maybe

she had a contact in the city they didn’t know about. Maybe she’d been

free to move about between safe houses the whole time, and she was

• 151 •

RADclY fFe

already back with the Russians. Maybe she had a secret boyfriend, or

girlfriend.

He’d been up most of the night before, so he stretched out on the

mattress to wait and closed his eyes. The Army had taught him to sleep

lightly, and he was instantly alert at the first scratch of metal on metal.

He sat up in the dark room.

“Come in and shut the door,” Mitch said when he saw Irina backlit

by the hall light. He didn’t want her standing there like a target.

Irina closed the door and flipped on the wall switch. She stared

at him from across the room, her gaze traveling slowly over his body.

“Hello, new boy.”

“Hi.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I’ve been?”

Irina removed a thin quilted jacket and hung it in the closet.

Beneath it, she wore formfitting black slacks with narrow tapered legs

and a red wraparound top. She couldn’t be too much older than Mitch,

but her body was lush and womanly and Mitch had the sudden image

of rich fertile fields bursting with life. He unexpectedly had the urge

to plant some part of himself in her, and he quickly forced the thought

away.

“I told you I wasn’t your keeper.” He didn’t add that she could

easily lie to him, so what was the point of asking.

“So you didn’t follow me today?” Irina asked.

“Jesus. No.” Mitch jumped up. “Was there someone?”

Irina shrugged. “Sometimes I thought yes. Sometimes no.”

“You’d be able to tell?”

She smiled grimly. “I am used to making myself invisible. And I

know when eyes are on me.”

Mitch spun around to the window. The sidewalks below were

deserted. In the patchy light filtering through the neighboring rowhouse

windows, the cars lining the street all appeared empty. For one brief

second he was so happy Sandy wasn’t here. Then he concentrated on

Irina.

“Did you actually see anyone?”

Irina shook her head. “Many someones. No one I recognized.”

“All right. If you see anyone suspicious, or even think you see

anyone, tell me.”

• 152 •

Justice for All

“Where are we going?”

“We need to let people know we’re a couple, so your…associates…

believe us. I’m taking you to a club. Then we’ll go to Ziggie’s.”

“Like a date,” Irina said.

“Like work,” Mitch replied. “We need to get you a warmer coat.

We’ll be riding my motorcycle again.”

“I’m all right.”

“No, you’re not. We’ll stop on Market Street and get you

something.”

“It’s nighttime, Mitch.”

“Those places are always open.” Mitch held out his leather jacket.

“Wear this for now.”

Irina studied him curiously. “Why do you care? I am…an enemy.

No?”

“No.” Mitch couldn’t say that she reminded him of Sandy. She

was very proud and in her own way, very brave. He couldn’t say that

he wished someone had given Sandy a warmer coat, or that she would

take his more often.

“What will you do with these men you want me to help you

find?”

“They’ll be arrested, and they’ll probably go to prison.”

“They will be killed?”

Mitch shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends on what they’ve done

and what can be proved.”

“I will be sent to prison?”

“What did Clark tell you?” When Mitch saw her blank expression,

he said, “The federal agent who said you had to help us?”

Irina laughed bitterly. “He told me I would go free.”

“You don’t believe him.”

“Would you?”

“No, probably not.” Mitch held his jacket open and after a few

seconds Irina slid her arms into it. When she turned to face him, he

gently tugged it closed. “We’re going to try to help you.”

“You should not be a cop, new boy.”

“Why?”

Irina kissed him. “You are not hard enough.” She put her hand

over his heart. “In here.”

• 153 •

RADclY fFe

Mitch hadn’t anticipated the kiss, not here and not like this, but he

hadn’t felt anything other than an odd sadness. He put his hand on her

back and guided her toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“Do your friends believe we are together?” she asked him as they

walked down the hall.

“Yes.”

Irina smiled. “Good.”

v

Talia sipped her wine, stretched her stockinged feet out onto a silk

brocade hassock, and launched another probe. She didn’t really expect

the bot to strike pay dirt. Thus far, she hadn’t found any easily accessible

back doors in JT Sloan’s corporate system. No admin shortcuts, config

errors, easily deciphered passwords, or unsecured remote access ports.

Sloan’s system was completely unlike the one she’d encountered at

Police Plaza when she’d done a quick scan a few hours earlier. After

only moderate effort, she’d gotten in deep there. Granted, the average

hacker would not have had such an easy time, but then she wasn’t

average. She hadn’t launched a serious assault because she didn’t want

to risk leaving a trail back to her home base—she’d only created her

own back doors for access at some future time. With luck, a few would

remain hidden long enough to be useful.

She chuckled as she encountered yet another roadblock. JT Sloan

was very good. She thought back to the grainy newspaper images and

the dark good looks that even the poor photographs couldn’t hide.

Intelligent, handsome, and something of a cipher herself, Sloan had

stood among the players whose names Kratos had provided. Talia had

run background checks on all of them, and while several were notable

locally, Sloan and her partner McBride were ex-federal agents, and both

their dossiers had more blacked-out sections than available information.

Sloan’s in particular had been thoroughly cleansed. Whatever she had

done for the U.S. government, it had been cloaked under deep cover

and high security.

“You’re going to be fun,” Talia murmured, sending a Trojan horse

she doubted would get past Sloan’s firewalls. But even experts made

mistakes sometimes, and she had no doubt she would eventually find

this woman’s weakness.

• 154 •

Justice for All

Being able to envision Sloan’s face while battling her mind, on a

field where few could compete with her as an equal, excited her. She

was looking forward to meeting her in person. Bedding her, knowing

that Sloan was unaware of her identity, would make the climax all the

sweeter. Talia let her fingers drift over her nipples. They were hard and

tingling beneath her sheer blouse. The wine warming her depths, the

arousal that always accompanied a hunt, and the persistent image of her

quarry made her want sex. The brief caress had created an answering

echo between her legs, and she was aware of her clitoris throbbing. No

one had captured her attention, mind and body, so completely in a very

long time.

Finishing her wine, she called up another program and continued

with her campaign to best JT Sloan. As she watched the screen, she

reached for the phone beside her and punched in a number from

memory.

A woman answered, her voice eager, as if she had been waiting for

Talia’s call despite the late hour. “Yes?”

“Hello,” Talia said throatily. “I have been thinking of you.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Good.” Talia disconnected.

As she refilled her wine, she wasn’t thinking of the woman whose

mouth would soon bring her to climax. She was envisioning a far more

challenging and intriguing seduction.

• 155 •

• 156 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER FIFTEEN

This place,” Irina said as Mitch guided her toward the entrance

of the Troc. “It is like Ziggie’s?”

“Not really.” Mitch grabbed the door and held it open. “No dancers

here. Different kind of performers.”

Irina hesitated for a second, giving him an odd look. At first glance,

the place did look like Ziggie’s. A large, dark, rectangular room that

smelled faintly of old whiskey and spent desire. But the Troc wasn’t a

strip club, and although customers might be getting it on in the shadows,

sex wasn’t the main course. Entertainment was the chief offering, and

at the moment, the Front Street Kings were on the stage.

“Mitch!” Jasmine glided out of the gloom like an exotic bird. Her

coppery lamé dress was formfitting and cut low, accentuating the slender

length of her elegant neck and a tease of cleavage. Her lustrous, artfully

tangled blond tresses danced over milky shoulders. Taller than Mitch,

she moved with a sinuous sensuality more innate than impersonated,

wholly female. She draped her arms around Mitch’s neck and kissed

him on the mouth. “I’ve missed you.”

Even prepared for Jasmine’s entrance, Mitch was caught off

guard, especially when Jasmine stroked her tongue ever so lightly

along the edge of his lip and snugged her pelvis into his. He clasped

her waist automatically and pressed a little closer, and she responded

with an audible purr. As if to remind him where he belonged, Irina

gripped the back of his neck. Her possessive gesture was so much like

something Sandy would do he experienced a few seconds of dizzying

disorientation.

Jasmine finally took pity on him and eased away, trailing her

• 157 •

RADclY fFe

fingers over his chest before turning to take in Irina. “And who do we

have here?”

“Jasmine, this is Irina.” Mitch slid his arm around Irina’s waist

and tugged her against his side. “Jasmine is a friend of mine, Irina.”

“I see that,” Irina said, appraising Jasmine coolly. “You dance?”

“I sing,” Jasmine replied, her throaty voice carrying an edge.

“You like to play with boys like Mitch?”

Jasmine threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, I do. But I can see

he’s going to be busy with you.”

Irina undulated against Mitch’s body and ran her hand slowly over

his chest and down his stomach, then brushed her fingers along the

swelling adjacent to his fly. “Yes. He is.”

Mitch caught the sparkle in Jasmine’s eyes and knew she was

having fun jousting with Irina, but he didn’t need the two of them

using his body as their combat zone. Jasmine was his friend, as well

as his backup, and even though she was gorgeous and sexy and an

outrageous tease, he’d never been attracted to her. His absence of desire

had nothing to do with the fact that all that blinding sensuality was

equal parts Jasmine and Jason McBride. Mitch just didn’t sexualize

his friends. Irina, though, was different. She wasn’t his friend, and she

wasn’t just teasing. Her hand was still on his cock, and he didn’t need a

hard-on distracting him tonight.

“Let’s get a table, baby.” He shifted away from the questing

fingers.

Jasmine smiled briefly at Irina and stroked Mitch’s cheek. “And

I’ve got to get ready for my show. See you later?”

“Sure,” Mitch said and led Irina to a table as Jasmine disappeared.

“Want a beer or something?”

“Vodka.” Irina smiled. “It is the best liquor.”

“Ice?”

“Yes.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “I’ll be right back.”

At the bar, he gave his order and turned toward the stage to watch

Phil and his other buddies perform. They were great. In between

numbers, they changed clothes, effortlessly appearing first as hard

rockers, then country-western stars, then suave crooners. They were

handsome and rugged and sexy.

When an arm snaked around his waist, he expected Irina, but it

• 158 •

Justice for All

was Jasmine. “Ooh,” she crooned, “hello again.” She flicked a perfect

nail over the fold of his fly. “Nice.”

“Are you trying to get my balls busted?” Mitch asked loud enough

for anyone watching them to hear.

“Would I do that, lover?” Jasmine leaned closer, traced the edge of

his ear with the tip of her tongue, and lowered her voice. “Everything

okay?”

“Irina thinks she might have been followed today.”

Jasmine swayed against him to the beat pulsing from the speakers.

An observer would conclude she was into some serious cock-teasing.

“Frye know?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you still up for Ziggie’s?”

“Got to. Irina left a message we need to follow up on.”

“Don’t disappear until after my number. I want to stick close.” She

kissed his cheek. “And try to keep your dick in your pants.”

“Right.” Mitch grabbed the drinks and returned to Irina. As she

sipped the vodka, he asked, “How do you like the guys?”

“I know them from Ziggie’s. Nice boys, and they are good, what

they do.”

“Yeah.”

“Jasmine.” Irina’s lips pursed. “She is very beautiful.”

“Like I said, she’s—”

“I’m your girlfriend, no?”

“Yes.”

“So I let her know you are not hers to touch.” Irina shrugged. “No

woman would let another one kiss her man like that.”

Mitch didn’t want Irina to suspect that Jasmine was working with

him, so he played along. “I think she got the message.”

Irina slowly stroked the inside of Mitch’s thigh. The back of her

hand rubbed over his cock. “Good.”

v

“Hey, Mitch, my man!” Phil said exuberantly, crossing to the table

and clapping Mitch on the back. He caught Irina’s hand and lifted it

to his lips, bowing slightly as he kissed the back of her fingers. “And

hello, beautiful lady. I’m Phil.”

• 159 •

RADclY fFe

“Hello, Phil,” Irina said, drawing out his name as if it were a

delicacy.

Phil raised his eyes, his mouth still hovering over her hand.

Something glinted in their dark depths and his mouth quirked into

a suggestive smile. “You’re far too fine to waste yourself on Mitch

here.”

Irina laughed.

“Hey, that’s my date you’re drooling over,” Mitch complained

good-naturedly. He kicked out the chair next to him. “Park it.”

“I didn’t get your name,” Phil said as he straightened, his gaze

still on Irina.

She looked him over, taking her time. “Irina.”

Mitch could almost see Phil’s chest puffing up under the scrutiny.

Jesus, he looked like he wanted to take a bite out of her. Phil flirted

with every woman, even Michael, but Mitch had never seen him look

at a woman quite so intently before. Irina didn’t seem to mind. Mitch

supposed he should act jealous, like Irina had acted with Jasmine. But

Phil knew he had another girlfriend. Plus he and Irina weren’t a serious

couple. They were just supposed to be dating. He cleared his throat.

“Want a beer, Phil?”

“Yeah,” Phil said, only taking his eyes off Irina’s face long enough

to stare at the breasts molded by her tight red top. “That’d be great.

Thanks.”

By the time Mitch got back from his second drink run, the other

Kings had arrived and were clustered around Irina at the table. She

seemed to be enjoying the attention. He shuffled bottles around the table

and reclaimed his seat. Jasmine was onstage, partway through her first

number. Unlike many female impersonators, she didn’t lip-synch when

performing. Her voice was sultry and rich, and as naturally feminine

as the rest of her. Most of the men in the audience were riveted by her,

their collective lust palpable. Mitch wondered how they dealt with the

knowledge that this beautiful woman was also a man, but maybe that

was part of the attraction.

Irina leaned close. “She is good.”

“Yeah,” Mitch agreed.

“She is not your girlfriend?”

“No way.” Laughing a little, Mitch kissed her neck. “You are,

remember?”

• 160 •

Justice for All

“Hey, Mitch,” Ken called. “Give the rest of us a break, huh? We’re

all out here in the cold.”

“We’re going to Ziggie’s later,” Phil said to Irina. “The night

would be perfect if you would come with us.”

Irina smiled lazily at him while rubbing slow circles on Mitch’s

stomach. “Mitch and I have plans for later.” At Phil’s crestfallen

expression, she laughed softly. “But maybe for a little while. If Mitch

wants.”

Phil cut his eyes to Mitch. “What do you say, buddy?”

What Mitch wanted to say was that Phil needed to get stuck on

some other woman, because Irina was off-limits, for real. He didn’t

want to see Phil get hurt. But he had a part to play, that of a good-time

guy who didn’t mind sharing the wealth with his friends. Plus, he and

Irina were headed to Ziggie’s, and going with the Kings just helped his

cover. “Sure.”

“Good,” Irina said, standing. “I am going to freshen up. I will be

back in a minute, Mitch.”

As soon as she was out of earshot Phil pulled his chair close to

Mitch. “So just how serious are you about her?”

“What do you think?” Mitch said, trying to work out an answer.

“I think you’ve already got a hot girlfriend who’s going to fry your

ass if she finds out you’re fooling around.” Phil grinned, although his

eyes were unsmiling. “So I think you should let me take care of this

one.”“I told you, I’m not married.” Mitch took another sip of his first

beer. “And the thing with Irina is intense, you know? For right now.”

Phil regarded him fixedly for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay.

If things change, let me know.”

By the time Irina returned, Jasmine was on her last number. The

Kings regaled Irina with stories of shows they had done, flirting and

posturing for her. She was a natural-born actress, indulging them with

smiles and laughter and carrying on as if she and Mitch were really on

a date and this was just a fun night out.

A short while later, Jasmine joined them, having changed into a

clingy sweater, tight black slacks, and heels. She settled into Phil’s lap,

crossing her legs and demanding breathily, “So where’s the party?”

“We are all going to Ziggie’s.” Irina’s fingers were curled around

Mitch’s thigh, but her eyes were on Phil. “Yes?”

• 161 •

RADclY fFe

“Yes,” all of the Kings, including Mitch, responded

enthusiastically.

Jasmine raised a sculpted brow at Mitch. “Oh, goodie.”

v

Mitch checked the road in his rearview mirror as he headed up

Broad Street toward Ziggie’s. Irina hugged him tightly from behind,

warming herself against his back, but he was still glad he’d stopped

earlier to get her a hip-length leather coat. He could see his breath in the

dark night air. Jasmine was with Phil and the guys in a car a few blocks

ahead. If the lieutenant was behind him, he couldn’t see her.

After he pulled into the mouth of the alley and cut his engine, he

pulled off his helmet and swiveled on the seat to face Irina. “If anyone

in there wants you to leave with them, try to put them off. If that doesn’t

work, say you’re not going anywhere without me. Say you’re scared

because of what happened at the house. Tell them I took care of you,

protected you. You feel safe with me along.”

“These men. They are much stronger than you,” Irina said, her

hands now resting lightly on the outside of his hips. “You cannot fight

them if they force me to go with them.”

Mitch shook his head. “I’m not letting them take you. Don’t worry

about that.”

“You could let me go. You could say you couldn’t stop them.”

“They’re not going to let you find your sister,” Mitch said. He

believed that to be true, but it didn’t make him feel any better about

preying on her fears. Manipulating her. “We can help you find her. But

you have to help us.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, her eyes probing into

his. “They will not be so easy to convince as your friends that we are

together.”

“Whatever it takes.”

Irina reached between his legs and squeezed his cock, pressing it

into the apex of his thighs. “And if they want proof?”

Mitch laughed hoarsely. “Like what? Unlike flesh-and-blood

cocks, mine doesn’t shoot—so what exactly would they see?”

“You would fuck me if they say?”

• 162 •

Justice for All

“Jesus.” Mitch slid his fingers between his cock and Irina’s hand,

and clasped her fingers gently. “I’m not going to let them force me to

treat you like that. I’ll convince them some other way. Don’t worry.”

“I am not the one to worry.” Irina stroked his face. “It is you they

will hurt.”

v

“What the hell were you doing out there, spawning?” Jasmine

hissed when Mitch slid into the booth with her and the Kings. An

assortment of beers and a vodka on ice sat in the middle of the table

already. “Where’s Irina?”

“She went to talk to the bartender.”

“And you let her? What if she slips out the back?”

“She won’t.” At Jasmine’s frown, Mitch said impatiently, “I

can see her from here. Besides, if she wanted to ditch me she could

have done it anytime today.” He lowered his voice. “What about the

backup?”

“I called Frye from my dressing room at the club. They should’ve

picked you up on your way here.”

“Okay.” Mitch felt a little steadier knowing that the lieutenant and

Watts were outside. Working undercover was lonely and scary, even

though it was a rush, too. He glanced past Jasmine and saw Phil craning

his neck, watching Irina. He hoped Phil believed him that Irina and

he were an item, and that he would keep his word to stay away from

her. He especially hoped he was becoming more adept at lying. Sandy

always said he sucked at it.

“Uh-oh,” Jasmine whispered. “She’s heading toward the back.”

Mitch pushed out of the booth. “There’s a rear door. If I’m not

back in fifteen minutes, check the alley for my bike. If it’s still there but

we’re not, it will probably mean we had to go somewhere to keep our

cover. Hopefully the lieutenant will pick us up.”

“Just don’t let them take Irina.”

“I’m not planning on it.” Mitch hurried after Irina, knowing events

didn’t always turn out as planned.

v

• 163 •

RADclY fFe

“Hey! What’s going on?” Mitch demanded when he discovered

Irina with her back against the wall, pinned by a hulking guy with fair

hair cut so close to his head he appeared at first glance to be bald. His

arm muscles bunched beneath a tight white T-shirt, and his tree trunk–

sized thighs bracketed Irina’s lower body. He turned his head and gave

Mitch a flat, cold stare.

Acting on instinct, heart thumping in his chest, Mitch ignored the

guy and caressed Irina’s shoulder. “You okay, baby?”

“Who is this?” the man growled in accented English.

“I am with him,” Irina said, a note of defiance in her voice.

The Russian looked Mitch up and down and made a dismissive

sound. “You need a man? I can take care of that.”

Irina sneered. “Like Yuri did?”

She pushed against her captor’s chest, and he moved back as if

surprised. She had just enough room to slither out from beneath his

arm. Mitch immediately pulled her close and angled his body so he was

standing between her and the man he presumed was one of the Russian

enforcers.

“Yuri did nothing to protect us when the police came,” Irina spat.

“Mitch helped me get away. All the others at the house…” She made an

angry gesture. “Gone.”

“You come with me,” the Russian said, grabbing her arm.

“Back off,” Mitch warned, hoping he’d be able to get off at least

one punch before the guy planted one of his huge fists in his face.

“She comes with me,” the Russian said.

Mitch shook his head. “No way.”

Just when he was sure the guy was going to swing, Jasmine

appeared out of nowhere. “There you are!” she exclaimed, rushing up.

“We’re ready for the next stop.” She looped her arm through Irina’s,

dragging her a few feet down the hall. “I just love club hopping.” Over

her shoulder she called to Mitch, “Are you coming or are you going to

let the other boys have all the fun?”

The Russian’s eyes flamed. “You are making a mistake, Irina.”

She slowed until Mitch reached her side, then said, “Tell Olik if he

wants me, he has to come himself. Not send his lapdog.”

When the Russian’s face suffused with fury, Mitch hurried both

Irina and Jasmine back into the main part of the bar.

“Jealous boyfriend?” Jasmine said archly.

• 164 •

Justice for All

Irina gave her a feral smile. “I would not let him fuck my shoe.”

“Oh, poor Mitch.” Jasmine laughed. “You’re going to run him

ragged.”

“He does not wear out easily.” Irina whispered in Mitch’s ear, “We

should go before he calls someone.”

“I guess that’s my cue to get started,” Mitch said with a grin.

“We’ll catch you all another night.”

When the Kings called good night, Mitch noticed that Phil didn’t

look up from the table.

“What about this guy Olik?” Mitch asked Irina as they headed for

the door. “How do we get to him?”

She flicked a long, dark strand of hair away from her face. “He

will come for me.”

• 165 •

• 166 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER SIxTEEN

Rebecca slipped into bed just before dawn. When Catherine

turned toward her, she said, “You don’t need to wake up just

yet.”

“Mmm.” Catherine ran her hands up and down Rebecca’s back.

“You’re warm. Feels nice.” She burrowed into Rebecca’s neck. “Smells

nice.”

Rebecca chuckled. “I took a shower in the guest room. I was trying

not to wake you up.”

Catherine slipped a firm thigh between Rebecca’s. “I thought you

promised you would.”

Rebecca sucked in a breath. The silky glide of Catherine’s flesh

between her legs teased her into full arousal in seconds. “I didn’t think

I’d be so late.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” Rebecca couldn’t manage more than short sentences as

Catherine rocked her leg steadily, insistently, into her. “Stayed to watch

Mitch. All quiet.”

“You’re making my leg wet,” Catherine whispered. “So hot, so

slick.”

Rebecca groaned. Her vision grew dark at the edges as she stroked

her hand along the curve of Catherine’s hip, to the dip at her waist, and

up to cradle the full oval of her breast. She rubbed the pad of her thumb

over the tight ball of Catherine’s nipple. Catherine surged in her arms,

her thigh driving high between Rebecca’s legs—opening her, cleaving

her. Rebecca arched her hips and thrust, tormenting her already tortured

• 167 •

RADclY fFe

clitoris, forcing it back and forth over Catherine’s leg. Her mouth was

on Catherine’s, and she matched the pulsations between her legs with

deep, probing sweeps of her tongue. When Catherine gripped her hips

to increase the force of her thrusting thigh, Rebecca broke away, panting

for breath.

“You’re going to make me come,” she warned.

“That’s right. I love it when you come,” Catherine said fervently.

“I love to feel you shatter in my arms, so beautiful.” I love it when you

need me, she didn’t say. I love to protect you. “Oh God, touch me. I

can’t stand it. I’ve needed to come for hours.”

Rebecca pushed her hand between their bodies and cupped

Catherine’s sex, her fingers sliding up and down the smooth, hot

valley, her thumb sweeping back and forth across the rigid clitoris.

Catherine jerked in her arms, and Rebecca felt her control unravel. She

concentrated, bearing down with her thumb.

“Oh, darling,” Catherine murmured, burying her face in Rebecca’s

neck. “So good. You’re so good. Stay on it, darling, stay—oh God, just

like that.”

“Catherine,” Rebecca moaned, her clitoris threatening to release.

The pressure was agonizing, her mind incapable of thought. Her hips

pumped, and the burning spread outward from the apex of her thighs.

“It’s coming. I can’t…oh, fuck, here I come.”

“Don’t stop, I’m close,” Catherine gasped, her teeth setting into

the muscle stretched taut along Rebecca’s neck. “I’m so so clo…oh!”

Catherine’s cry ignited Rebecca, and she shuddered as heat raced

through her. She fired fast, peaked hard, and came down quickly, but

Catherine kept pulsing in her hand, undulating waves of pleasure filling

her palm.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Catherine whimpered breathlessly.

Rebecca massaged her until the last spasms quieted, then wrapped

her tightly in her arms. “I love you.”

“Oh, I love you.” Catherine rested her face against Rebecca’s

chest. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” Rebecca promised, her heart twisting. She knew

Catherine would never have asked if all her defenses hadn’t just been

shattered, and she might not even remember it later. But Rebecca would

not forget the helpless plea in her voice. She kissed her, slowly, as she

stroked her hair and her back, calming her. “I won’t.”

• 168 •

Justice for All

Catherine smoothed trembling fingers lightly over Rebecca’s

mouth, as if to stop her from making promises impossible to keep.

“Hold me. Just hold me.”

Rebecca could give her that, and she did.

v

“Hey,” Michael whispered, resting both hands on Sloan’s

shoulders. “Any chance I could talk you into coming to bed? It’s late,

and you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Sloan tilted her head back against Michael’s midsection and

closed her eyes. When Michael’s fingers threaded through her hair and

massaged her scalp, she groaned.

Laughing softly, Michael leaned down and kissed the angle of

her jaw. Circling her fingertips over Sloan’s temples, she said, “You’re

tired, darling. And this case is just getting started.”

“Someone’s trying to crack my system,” Sloan murmured, her

eyes still closed. “But they’re playing games.”

“What does that mean?” Michael asked with a frown.

“They’re not really trying to hide what they’re doing. They’re

letting me see them, like a game of hide and seek.” Sloan grasped

Michael’s hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Or chess.”

“Really? Why would a hacker do that?”

Sloan shook her head. “Arrogance. Boredom. Maybe he hasn’t

had anyone at his level to compete with. Because he’s good. Very

good. I can’t find his trail.” She took a deep breath and let it out with a

frustrated sigh. “He knows how to bait the hook.”

“Playing with you.” Michael caressed Sloan’s neck, then slid

a hand under the top of her T-shirt and rubbed her chest. “Not very

smart.”

Sloan arched in the chair, her hand drifting away from the keyboard

for the first time in hours. “Michael. You’re cheating.”

“I never cheat,” Michael whispered softly in her ear. “I just play

to win. Are you coming to bed?” She caught her breath as Sloan’s eyes

opened and sought hers, unguarded arousal shimmering through the

blue depths. “God, darling. Say yes.”

Sloan stood, shoved the desk chair away with her foot, and

caught Michael against her chest. She kissed her, filling her hands with

• 169 •

RADclY fFe

Michael’s hair and her senses with Michael’s scent. “Yes. Definitely,

yes.”

v

Sandy sat up, instantly alert, at the quiet snick of the door lock

catching. Dell looked even paler than usual in the gray early-morning

light, her eyes shadowed and wary. The bedside clock said 6:30 a.m.

She’d been out all night. With Irina. Dell stood statue still as if awaiting

judgment until Sandy flicked back the sheet, indicating the bed beside

her.

Wordlessly, Dell stripped, then climbed into bed and lay on her

back.

“Are you all right?” Sandy asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did something happen?”

“Not really.”

“How come you’re so late?”

Dell sighed. She’d wanted to come earlier, but she didn’t want to

leave Irina until she was certain no one had followed them. She couldn’t

leave her unprotected.

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t ask you to be sorry.” Sandy rolled onto her side and put

her hand on Dell’s stomach. The muscles were hard as wood. Dell’s

stomach felt that way when she was getting ready to come, or when she

was really upset. Sandy rubbed up and down, slow steady sweeps, and

Dell shivered. “You’re really wired, baby.”

“Things got a little tense for a few minutes. They sent muscle to

collect Irina.”

“Did they take her?”

“No,” Dell said hoarsely.

“Did things get physical?”

“Almost.”

Sandy sucked in a breath. What Dell was doing was dangerous.

Dell knew it, and she knew it. Telling her to be careful wouldn’t do any

good. Asking her not to do what she needed to do wasn’t an option. She

shifted on top of Dell and wiggled her hips between Dell’s legs, forcing

her to open. As soon as Dell parted her thighs, Sandy pushed her way

• 170 •

Justice for All

down on the bed and pressed her cheek in the delta at the base of Dell’s

belly. Dell’s clitoris was erect, a firm bulge against her face. She shifted

and brushed her lips over it.

Dell dragged in a shaky breath.

“I’m going to take care of this so you can sleep,” Sandy whispered,

her lips moving over the distended shaft. “You want?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Will you come for me, baby?”

“Will you do me really slow?” Dell’s voice broke. “So I can feel

everything?”

“As slow as you want, for as long as you need.” Sandy dropped

feather-light kisses over Dell’s clitoris, her inner lips, the insides of

her thighs. She teased under the hood with just the tip of her tongue,

sweeping round and round, until Dell’s hips bucked and twisted. She

licked, she sucked, she stroked the flat of her tongue the length of Dell’s

sex. When Dell’s legs trembled, Sandy held her down, closing her

hands over Dell’s lean, taut thighs. When Dell gasped for breath, Sandy

stilled, keeping her just on the edge of exploding, knowing the buildup

would make the release all the sweeter. She knew what Dell needed.

She needed to go beyond thought, beyond fear, beyond uncertainty. She

needed to drown in pleasure, to be held in safety.

“Sandy,” Dell groaned.

“You need to come now, baby?” Sandy crooned, sliding first one

finger, then two, inside. With her other hand she pressed on the base of

Dell’s stomach, forcing her clitoris to stand up straight. “Want to come

in my mouth?”

“Please.” Dell’s voice was unsteady and low.

Sandy pulled on Dell’s length with long strokes of her pursed

lips. She kept it up, stroke after stroke, as Dell arched and mumbled

incoherent pleas, then looked up to see Dell propped on her elbows,

staring down at her with a dazed, delirious expression. She felt Dell’s

clitoris expand, saw her face twist in an agony of pleasure, and curled

her fingers forward to massage the spot that made Dell’s clitoris leap

between her lips.

“Uh.” Dell jerked. Once. Twice. Then her arms gave way and she

fell back with a cry, writhing as her muscles tightened and convulsed.

“Keep sucking. Just suck. Jesus!”

Sandy lost count of how many times she coaxed Dell’s clitoris to

• 171 •

RADclY fFe

stiffen and explode, but she kept working it until Dell whimpered for

her to stop. She was so high on the power she couldn’t. She wanted

to make Dell come again. She wanted Dell to be hers, and only hers,

forever. She teased the swollen head with her tongue and Dell twisted

away.

“Babe, please,” Dell whispered weakly. “Hold me. San?”

“I’m here, baby,” Sandy said instantly, clambering up to pull Dell

into her arms. Dell was nearly twice her size, but it didn’t matter. Right

now, she felt like a giant. She tightened her grip on Dell’s shoulders and

rocked her. “I love you, baby.”

“I need you, San.”

“Shh.” Sandy kissed Dell’s sweaty brow and stroked her face.

“You go to sleep now, baby.”

“Play with your clit,” Dell murmured, cradled in Sandy’s arms.

“Know you need to.”

“I’m okay, baby.”

Dell nuzzled Sandy’s breast and drew her nipple into her mouth.

When she bit down, Sandy felt as if she’d been electrocuted. Her legs

jerked and her clit twitched like crazy. She reached for it, moaning

when she discovered how wet and hard she was. She hadn’t been aware

of her own excitement until then. All she’d known was Dell. Fingers

squeezing, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against the top of

Dell’s head.

“Good?” Dell muttered.

“Uh-huh,” Sandy whispered, twisting and tugging her aching

clit. A huge balloon filled her insides until she couldn’t breathe. She

squeezed and pulled until the balloon burst open and she was coming.

“God, baby. God!”

Dell sighed with pleasure and relaxed in her arms. Sandy stroked

her until she heard her breathing slow and knew she was falling asleep.

She knew that if anyone came through that door wanting to hurt Dell,

she would kill them. She only wished she could always be there to

protect her.

• 172 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER SEvENTEEN

Kratos folded the Wall Street Journal and set it aside as his driver

pulled the Town Car to a stop in a parking lot in the shadows

of the Benjamin Franklin Bridge. A blustery wind was coming off the

Delaware River, but he did not button his topcoat when his bodyguard

opened the door. Bareheaded, he stepped out and approached a black

Mercedes SUV with darkened windows, his bodyguard and Vincent

on either side of him. The two Russians standing next to the vehicle

watched him, their broad, heavy features expressionless. He stopped a

few yards away and waited. The rear door opened and a thin, blond man

in a cashmere coat similar to his own stepped out.

“Stay here,” Kratos said to his companions.

“Boss,” Vincent muttered, clearly unhappy.

“I shouldn’t be too long.”

Kratos walked to the edge of the pier, ignoring the two Russian

bodyguards, deliberately giving them his back as if they were of no

consequence to him at all. He wanted to reinforce that they were on

his turf, where he held the power, and that he did not fear them. Mind

games. The kind he loved.

A few seconds later, the Russian boss stepped up beside him.

Kratos did not turn his head to acknowledge the other man. “Winter

is coming,” he said, staring out at the muddy river.

“Good,” the Russian said. “Cold weather is good for business.

Men want to be inside with a warm woman.”

Kratos laughed briefly. “Are you going to be able to supply what

we need?”

“There are always girls.”

• 173 •

RADclY fFe

“Yes, but not ones as beautiful and easy to manage as yours.”

Kratos disliked discussing the specifics of business with anyone

because the only thing he was certain of was that no one could be

trusted. Still, a discussion outdoors in the wind in an open parking lot

was as safe as any could be, unless the Russian was wired. To counter

the possibility, Vincent carried a radio frequency jammer in his pocket

that would distort audio transmissions enough to make the recording

inadmissible in court. “I understand that you have lost a substantial

amount of your inventory.”

The Russian shrugged. “When your authorities lose interest in us,

I will bring more. Until then, the American product will do.”

“My clients are used to quality,” Kratos said.

He provided women to some of the most powerful men in the state,

in several states, and they expected beauty, compliance, and skill. They

also expected anonymity. He couldn’t send common prostitutes or even

high-class escorts who might recognize the men or who might be under

surveillance themselves. The only reason he had allowed the Russians

to move in on a corner of his prostitution business was because they

could provide him with young, attractive, healthy girls who were no

threat to his high-powered clients. The Russian girls wouldn’t recognize

the men, and even if they did, they didn’t speak enough English to be

able to betray anyone. Many of his clients preferred the young Russians

for another reason, even if their expertise was sometimes lacking. For

these men, power was more erotic than flesh, and the combination of

fear and innocence was more appealing in a woman than a talented

mouth.

“Do not concern yourself,” the Russian boss said. “Your clients

will have everything they want.” He looked at Kratos for the first time.

“How is it that your police interfere with my business, but not yours?”

Kratos shook his head. “I am sorry for your misfortune. I’ll do

what I can to interest them elsewhere.” He didn’t add for a price, but

it was understood. If he used his influence to divert the investigation,

the Russian would be in his debt. It was also understood that when he

called in the debt, he would collect many-fold. He waited.

The Russian nodded. “I would be grateful.”

“Think nothing of it, my friend.” Satisfied, Kratos turned to go.

“I will need another house. Two would be better.”

• 174 •

Justice for All

“Someone will call you with the addresses,” Kratos said without

looking back. He nodded to Vincent, who stepped behind him to protect

his back until he slid inside the car once more. As they moved off, he

called Talia. With his supply lines secured, he could accelerate his plans

to disrupt the investigation.

v

“You know, we could just skip this thing,” Sloan said, wiping

water from her eyes and groping at a nearby counter.

“Looking for this?” Michael teased, holding up a large white terry-cloth towel. She wore a pale blue silk robe tied at the waist.

At the sight of her breasts moving gently beneath the thin material,

Sloan cared even less about the benefit they were supposed to attend.

She was also tired. And frustrated. After being lured to bed the night

before, she’d actually fallen asleep for a few hours, then worked all

day trying to discover who was attempting to breach her system. She’d

made little progress tracing the source of the cyberattacks and was

increasingly worried that Michael would be drawn into danger because

of the new investigation.

“Couldn’t you find anything to wear?” she asked. Michael had

been choosing a dress for the benefit when Sloan got home.

“I got distracted.” At Sloan’s look of confusion, Michael laughed.

In slow, succinct bites, she explained, “You. Naked. Taking a shower.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

Sloan heard the words, but it was the invitation in Michael’s voice

that held her attention. “How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful.” Michael hooked a finger around the top of the towel

and pulled it loose. When it dropped to the floor, she wrapped her arms

around Sloan’s neck and kissed her, moving from her mouth over her

jaw, and then down her neck.

“I’m going to get you all wet,” Sloan murmured.

“Done,” Michael whispered. She licked a bead of water from

the hollow at the base of Sloan’s throat as she caressed the muscles in

Sloan’s shoulders and back. “You snuck out of bed this morning before

I had a chance to say good morning.”

• 175 •

RADclY fFe

Sloan reached back and grasped the edge of the counter on either

side of her body. She let her head fall back as Michael cupped her

breasts and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry. Again.”

“Really?” Michael murmured, drawing a nipple between her lips.

“Not so much right now.” Sloan closed her eyes. “Michael. The

time.”

“Don’t worry.” Michael dropped to her knees and slid both hands

around to Sloan’s ass. “We have plenty.”

Sloan looked down, mesmerized as Michael kissed her belly, then

the angle of her thighs, then the sensitive cleft between. She hissed

between her teeth. “If you’re just teasing…”

Michael glanced up, her lids heavy, her mouth curved into a hungry

smile. “Oh, I’m teasing. In fact, I think you should see just how much.”

She dragged her nails lightly over the crest of Sloan’s hipbones and

down her stomach. Then she used both thumbs to part Sloan’s swollen

flesh. She held Sloan’s eyes for another few seconds before extending

her tongue and flicking at Sloan’s clitoris.

Sloan tightened her thighs, which suddenly felt like jelly, and

leaned forward to watch Michael play with her. Her clit had already

plumped up to its full size at the first touch of Michael’s tongue, and

now it twitched with each lick. “Do you want me to come in your

mouth?”

“Try not to right away,” Michael murmured, sucking Sloan’s

clitoris delicately between her lips.

“I really really want to,” Sloan warned, her voice catching in her

throat.

Laughing softly, Michael released her clitoris and stroked her

tongue deeper into Sloan’s center. When Sloan groaned, Michael traced

Sloan’s inner lips with a fingertip down to the muscled ring between her

buttocks. She massaged the tight opening and took Sloan’s clitoris into

her mouth again.

“That’s going to make me come,” Sloan said desperately. “Oh,

baby, really soon.” She felt her clitoris rise and stiffen as heat poured

into her stomach. The pressure took her breath away.

Michael’s fingertip entered her and the reflex muscle spasm

made her clit jerk. Michael murmured appreciatively and repeated the

motion.

• 176 •

Justice for All

Sloan twitched. “You make me want to come so bad.” She watched

Michael’s tongue swirl over her clit. “Can you fuck me, baby? I’m right

there.”

With a sharp cry of pleasure, Michael pulled on Sloan’s clitoris

with her mouth and pumped her finger in and out of the smooth tight

ring of muscle. Sloan’s orgasm crashed through her with such force she

shouted, and she doubled over, clutching Michael’s shoulders to keep

from falling.

Then Michael was in her arms, her mouth against Sloan’s ear. “In

me, Sloan. Hurry, darling. Hurry.”

Sloan kissed her, plunging her tongue into Michael’s mouth as

she filled her with her fingers. Michael trembled in her arms as her hips

rocked, demanding satisfaction. Sloan caught her rhythm and thrust,

her tongue and her hand moving together, forcing Michael to feel all of

her, everywhere inside.

“Oh yes,” Michael cried, tossing her head back, eyes slammed

shut as she tightened on Sloan’s fingers. “Yes, darling. Yes.”

When Michael slumped in her arms, Sloan caressed her hair and

gently kissed her. “We’re going to need another shower.”

Michael laughed. “I’ve missed that so much.”

“I love you.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Michael nipped at Sloan’s chin. “Come on.

Let’s get this event done with so I can have you again.”

v

Talia held the door open for Kratos.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, his eyes taking her in.

“Not at all.” Talia had almost changed her mind about meeting

him at the door in a dressing gown because she did not want to be too

obvious about wielding her body as a weapon. His attraction to her

blunted his usually intense focus and gave her a slight advantage in

their business dealings, but she did not delude herself into thinking she

was safe with him.

Men like Kratos Zamora were wholly without sentimentality for

anyone other than their wives and children. She had no doubt he would

dispatch her without a second’s thought if he felt she had become a

• 177 •

RADclY fFe

liability. Or a threat. He was a powerful man who wielded his power

as much for the pleasure of it as anything else. She wasn’t entirely

convinced that he cared about the police investigation or the fact that his

dealings with his Russian colleagues might be disrupted. She thought

he might simply want to prove that he was beyond the reach of the

authorities by beating them at their own game.

“Come into the sitting room,” she said. “The maid will bring

coffee in a few minutes.”

Talia led him into the adjoining parlor, where a fire burned in the

fireplace. She sat in one of the upholstered English armchairs and Kratos

took the other. She could tell from the way his eyes lingered on her

breasts that her choice of the burgundy satin robe was as distracting as

she intended. She willed her nipples not to rise. She wasn’t aroused by

his desire, but rather by the game between them. The danger inherent in

any encounter with him always aroused her, and she enjoyed the edgy

anticipation in the pit of her stomach.

“I took your advice,” he said, finally meeting her eyes. He slipped

a small envelope from inside his jacket and placed it on the Queen

Anne table between their chairs. “I had an interesting business meeting

yesterday.”

Intrigued, Talia picked up the envelope and lifted the flap. A

memory card was the only thing inside. She laughed softly. “Let me

guess. Photos?”

Kratos nodded.

“We’re very much alike, you and I,” she mused.

“How is that?”

“Easy victories are far from satisfying,” Talia observed. She was

talking about Kratos’s campaign against the authorities who had the

audacity to challenge his power, but she might just as well have been

talking about his interest in her.

“Sometimes,” Kratos said, his voice smooth and seductive,

“playing can be almost as pleasurable as winning.”

“Then by all means,” Talia said. “Let’s make the game a

challenge.”

v

• 178 •

Justice for All

Whistling softly, Sloan threaded the gold and platinum cufflinks

through her French cuffs as she walked into the kitchen. She thought a

glass of wine with Michael before they left would be nice because once

they arrived at the benefit, Michael would be busy networking and they

would spend the rest of the evening in their separate spheres. Between

the recent investigations and Michael’s injury, they’d had very little

time to enjoy one another, and she realized how unbalanced her life had

become without the simple joy of being with Michael.

Sloan stopped in the doorway when she saw Dell Mitchell standing

in front of the refrigerator with two bottles of beer in her hand. She wore

threadbare gray sweats hanging low on her hips and a black sleeveless

T-shirt with the PPD emblem.

“Hey,” Sloan said. “How are you doing?”

“I’m solid. You look slick.”

Sloan glanced down at her tux shirt and pants and shrugged.

“Gotta play the game.”

“Yeah,” Dell said, twisting the cap off one of the bottles before

taking a long swallow. She still had dark circles under her eyes, but

she looked a little more rested than the last time Sloan had seen her. “I

know what you mean.”

Sloan reached for a bottle of wine and fished a corkscrew out of

the drawer. She lowered her voice. “Things going okay with Irina?”

“I think we’re getting somewhere. At least we’re attracting some

attention from the Russians.”

“Frye know?”

Dell nodded. “Yeah. I filled her in on the phone a while ago.”

“We’re all tied up tonight, so you need to stay off the streets. No

backup.”

“I’m just going to check on Irina in a while. I don’t know how

hard anyone is looking for her, and she’s alone.”

Sloan frowned and pulled the cork from the bottle. “Keep your

eyes open.”

“Will do.”

“Jasmine with you last night?”

Dell smiled. “Oh yeah. She’s amazing. Hot too.”

“Hot.” Sloan chuckled. “That she is. And then some.”

“Out here talking about other women?” Michael said as she came

• 179 •

RADclY fFe

around the corner. She held out her hand for the glass of wine Sloan had

filled. “Is that for me?”

Wordlessly, Sloan handed it to her, taking in Michael’s midnight

blue evening dress. The color made her eyes even more vivid, and the

form-hugging cut accentuated her slender body and full breasts. In

heels, she was taller than Sloan, close to six feet, and she looked as if

she had just stepped off a Manhattan runway. Sloan swallowed hard,

instantly wanting Michael’s mouth on her again.

“Wow,” Dell blurted.

Sloan cut her a look.

“Hello, Dell,” Michael said. “Everything all right?”

“Fine.”

Sandy ambled in wearing one of Dell’s T-shirts and something

under it that wasn’t immediately visible. She went directly to Dell,

took the open beer bottle from her hand, and said, “Stop drooling over

Michael.”

“I’m not!” Dell exclaimed.

“Uh-huh.” Sandy settled her butt into Dell’s crotch and sipped the

beer. Dell wrapped an arm around her middle. “You look awesome.

Both of you.”

Michael smiled. “Thanks. I almost feel like we’re going out on a

date.”

Inwardly, Sloan grimaced. Nothing could be further from the

truth. She was supposed to be watching Kratos Zamora, trying to find

out who his upper-echelon political associates might be. And she was

going to be busy keeping Michael far away from him. She was not

looking forward to the evening.

“I want to stop downstairs for a second,” she told Michael. “I’ve

got a program running I need to check. Give me five minutes, okay?”

Michael stroked her cheek. “Promise you won’t get distracted?”

Sloan caught her wrist and kissed her fingers. “Promise.”

“Go ahead, then,” Michael whispered.

Sloan nodded to Dell and Sandy and took the stairs down to the

third floor. She had set several programs to launch in an attempt to trace

probes being sent out against her system. She wanted to see if they’d

been activated. As soon as she caught sight of her main screen, she

knew there was a problem. Images flickered across the surface, where

there should be only data.

• 180 •

Justice for All

As she drew closer and could make out details, a red haze of fury

clouded her vision at the same time as her stomach turned to cold, hard

stone. She stared at photos of Michael. Michael stepping out of the

building. Michael at the wheel of her car. Michael talking to several

colleagues in the lobby of her building. And one final photo that seared

into her brain.

Michael seated at a window table in a restaurant with Kratos

Zamora.

• 181 •

• 182 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER EIghTEEN

Sloan?” Michael reached across the space between them and

put her hand on Sloan’s thigh. “What’s wrong?”

Sloan hit the gas and whipped the Porsche around one of the many

horse-drawn carriages that shared the roads in Old City, providing tours

of the myriad historic sites. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She wasn’t

certain what she was going to do when she was actually in the same

room as Kratos Zamora. She could still see him leaning slightly across

the restaurant table toward Michael, his expression intent, as if he were

riveted to every word Michael might say. Michael had been laughing,

and she was so damned beautiful. Beautiful and innocent. Innocent of

the kinds of games that men like Zamora played. Innocent of the world

he lived in and that Sloan had lived in not so long ago. There were no

dark places in Michael’s heart, no monsters buried in her past. Michael

was everything good and pure in Sloan’s life, and she would kill to

prevent anyone from changing that.

“You know how much I hate these things.” She kept a grip on the

wheel, afraid Michael would see her hands shaking. Her head pounded

with rage.

Michael always knew when Sloan was holding something in,

forcing something down, containing her anger. She rubbed her hand

up and down Sloan’s thigh. The muscles were hard as iron, and even in

the low light of the car, the set of Sloan’s jaw was unmistakable. She

was oh so very good at holding on to her control. Except the price for

that remarkable control was distance, the one thing Michael could not

bear.

• 183 •

RADclY fFe

“I’ve only had you for a few minutes tonight,” Michael whispered.

“Please don’t go away so soon.”

The pain in her voice cut through the wall of Sloan’s fury

like nothing else could. She dropped her hand from the wheel and

covered Michael’s, lacing their fingers together. “I’m sorry. I’m…a

little preoccupied with the investigation.” Forcing a smile, she lifted

Michael’s hand to her lips. “And I really do hate these fancy parties.”

“For someone who looks so good in a tux, that’s a shame.” Michael

withdrew her hand and moved it to the back of Sloan’s neck. She toyed

with the wavy black strands that curled over the stiff collar of Sloan’s

shirt. “You know I don’t resent your work, don’t you?”

Sloan nodded.

“What’s hard for me is losing you to it.”

“You don’t,” Sloan said hoarsely. She glanced at Michael, then

back at the road. “You’re always in my heart. I’m sorry if I—”

“Pull over.”

Wordlessly, Sloan obeyed. As soon as she slid the transmission

into Park, the powerful engine still idling, Michael leaned over for a

kiss. With a soft groan, Sloan gave herself over to the silky heat of

Michael’s mouth. She wished she could take her home, away from the

evil and depravity, and let Michael exorcize her fear and anger. But

Michael was a woman with her own needs, her own life, and Sloan

could not protect her from everything that might hurt her.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” Sloan asked when she drew

back for a breath.

Michael smiled and skimmed her fingertip over Sloan’s mouth.

“Nothing to forgive. That was me telling you I love you exactly the

way you are.”

Sloan lowered her head. If Michael knew everything about her,

she might not say that. She whispered, “I love you so much.”

“You love me exactly the right way.” Michael stroked Sloan’s hair.

“Someday, my darling Sloan, I want you to help me do the same.”

“You do,” Sloan exclaimed.

“Only as much as you let me.” Michael smiled a little sadly. “Now

we need to go.”

Sloan let out a long breath and put the car in gear. “Let’s do this

thing.”

• 184 •

Justice for All

v

“You can leave your dick in the drawer,” Sandy said, crossing her

arms beneath her small breasts. “Because Mitch isn’t going anywhere

tonight.”

Dell pulled on her clean T-shirt and stared at Sandy. “What the

fuck, San?”

Perched on the edge of the bed, still in her T-shirt and panties,

Sandy said, “I heard Sloan say you don’t have any backup tonight. So

you can’t work.”

“What else did you hear?” Dell grabbed a clean pair of black jeans

from the pile of clothes Sandy had brought from her apartment. She

didn’t exactly mean to keep secrets from Sandy, but she hated for her to

get worked up about things that might happen. Or might not. And she

definitely didn’t want her getting worked up over Irina. Like that was

ever gonna happen. “Thanks for bringing clothes for me.”

“Let’s see. You were saying…” Sandy put a finger on her chin as if

she were thinking. “Oh, right. You’ve also got a hard-on for Jasmine.”

“I do not!” Dell stuffed her T-shirt into her jeans and bent over to

strap on her ankle holster before pulling on her motorcycle boots. “I

just said she was hot. Merely an observation.”

“Oh yeah. Like a guy says a girl has great tits, but he’s not really

thinking about getting his hands on them or anything.”

“I didn’t say she has great tits. Actually, I think she has a great

mouth.” Dell ducked, laughing as Sandy grabbed the pillow from

behind her and flung it.

“You blockhead.” Sandy flung the other pillow. “There’s no way

Jasmine could ever give you the kind of blow job I can. I don’t care

how pretty her mouth looks.”

Dell dropped to her knees in front of Sandy and wrapped her arms

around Sandy’s waist. She pulled her to the edge of the bed until she

could pillow her face against her breasts, then she nuzzled Sandy’s

nipple through the thin cotton T-shirt. “Babe, nobody can do anything

to me the way you can.” She tilted her head back and kissed Sandy’s

chin. “How come you’re so grumpy?”

“Maybe because my girlfriend is spending every night with a girl

who wants to get into her pants.” Sandy tugged a fistful of Dell’s hair,

• 185 •

RADclY fFe

and her expression darkened. “Maybe because you’re coming home so

wound up I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt out there.”

“Babe.” Dell stroked Sandy’s cheek. “I’m being careful. I promise.

And I’m going to be back early tonight. It’s just a quick check, okay?”

Sandy ran her fingertips over Dell’s eyebrows, then kissed her.

“Do what you have to. Just keep your dick on ice. ’Kay?”

“I will.” Dell stood and grabbed her motorcycle jacket. “I’ll be

back really soon.”

Sandy waited until she heard the elevator go down, then headed

for the shower. It was Saturday night, and she had things to do too.

v

Rebecca angled through the crowd toward Sloan, who stood next

to the bar set up against one wall, cradling a glass of liquor in her hand.

The city’s wealthy and influential occupied most of the linen-covered

tables filling the banquet hall. At the front of the room, a dais stood in

the center of an elevated stage, flanked by two tables. Catherine and

several board members from city and charitable organizations sat at one

table. Michael sat at the other, between the mayor and Kratos Zamora,

directly on her left. The police commissioner occupied the end seat

next to Zamora.

After the obligatory mingling over hors d’oeuvres and drinks,

dinner had been served and now the real work of the evening began.

Speakers took the stage in turns praising the mayor’s efforts to support

the city’s poor and disenfranchised and strengthen the local economy.

Pleas were made for more donations and pledges of support for the

mayor’s reelection campaign.

“Looks like the mayor’s got some important people on his side,”

Rebecca murmured. “Including our friend.”

“We pretty much already knew that,” Sloan said, clenching the

glass in her hand as Zamora leaned close and said something that made

Michael smile, even as she kept her eyes on the current speaker.

“Did you say anything to Michael about our interest in him?”

Rebecca asked.

“No.”

“His attention to her is just coincidental, then.” Rebecca watched

Sloan carefully. From the moment she and Michael had arrived, she’d

• 186 •

Justice for All

looked ready to explode. Anyone who didn’t know her as well as

Rebecca did probably would have missed the signs. Her usual feline

grace was absent. She moved instead with the wary precision of a trained

martial artist on the verge of launching a killing blow. Coiled muscles

and singular focus. And her prey was very obviously Kratos Zamora.

She hadn’t taken her eyes off him the entire evening. If he’d noticed, he

gave no indication of it, but Rebecca had seen his bodyguards scanning

the crowds. Their eyes continually returned to Sloan.

“His muscle has picked up on you,” Rebecca said.

“Fine.”

“You need to go outside. Take a walk around. Get some air.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You might as well be waving a banner with his name on it, saying

‘I’m after you.’”

Sloan slugged down her scotch. “You think they don’t know.”

“Probably they do. But we don’t need to take out an ad.”

“Fuck them.” Sloan finally took her eyes off Michael and focused

on Rebecca. “Doesn’t it bother you? That they flaunt their invincibility?

That they spit on us while cozying up to the mayor and the police

commissioner? When we know he’s dirty?”

“It doesn’t matter what we know. It matters what we can prove.”

“No,” Sloan said. “It matters what you can prove.”

“Times have changed. Men like him have become politicians.”

“What does that make men like the commissioner, then? Front

men for felons?”

“I haven’t had dealings with the commissioner. He didn’t come up

the ranks. It’s an elected position.”

Sloan held out a glass to the bartender for a refill. “And money

buys votes.”

“You don’t need that drink,” Rebecca said. “But you need to tell

me what lit your fuse.”

Sloan narrowed her eyes, challenging Rebecca. Rebecca was

the team leader, but she wasn’t technically Sloan’s boss. Sloan still

hadn’t decided whether to tell her about the surprise slide show. She

trusted Rebecca, but she didn’t trust anyone else and she didn’t have

any idea where the images were coming from. All she knew was that

Zamora had gotten close to Michael. And someone was playing with

her. She needed to know what they wanted, and why they were willing

• 187 •

RADclY fFe

to use Michael to send a message. Until she knew, she wasn’t telling

anyone who might further endanger Michael, willingly or unwillingly.

Including Rebecca. She cared about the investigation, she cared about

justice. But she cared about Michael more.

Rebecca held her gaze, her blue eyes cool and steady. Silence

stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the seconds ticked by.

Sloan took a shuddering breath and carefully placed her untouched

drink on the bar behind her. She needed to convince Rebecca nothing

was going on.

“Sorry. He’s sitting next to Michael. It’s driving me crazy.”

“She’s safe here.”

“I want to send her out of town.”

“I don’t blame you. Maybe Catherine will go with her.”

Sloan laughed shakily. “Yeah, right.”

“There’s no reason to think she’s in danger. He’s an influential

businessman. She’s the head of a multimillion-dollar corporation. They

swim in the same waters. It makes sense that he’s friendly.”

“Yeah,” Sloan said dryly. “Friendly.”

With a hand on Sloan’s back, Rebecca steered her away from

the bar and the occasional attendee who came for a refill. She didn’t

want to spend too much more time talking to her, not with Zamora’s

men watching, and Sloan seemed calmer now. “We’ll compare notes

tomorrow as to who else he’s friendly with. I’ve got Watts on camera

duty.”

Sloan rubbed her eyes. “Look. Sorry. I’m okay. I hate these

goddamned things anyhow.”

“Me too. But we can tell Clark and the captain we’ve done our

duty.” Rebecca squeezed Sloan’s shoulder. “And we’ve got a good look

at his muscle. That might come in handy.”

“Yeah,” Sloan said, planning to search the security tapes at

Michael’s office building for those same faces. “It might.”

v

Talia waited until the tall, sharp-eyed blonde moved away from

Sloan. That would be the detective Kratos had told her about. Frye. A

very capable-looking woman. Very intense. Very focused. Very cool.

Talia preferred her women hotter, although she knew the ones who

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Justice for All

seemed cool on the surface very often boiled over if you knew how

to stoke their fires. She wondered what it would take to fire up the

detective. She didn’t have to wonder about Sloan. It was written all

over her face every time she looked at the woman next to Kratos. The

woman Kratos had met for an impromptu business discussion the day

before.

Talia picked up a glass of Burgundy from a passing waiter and

gravitated toward Sloan. “I hate these things, don’t you?”

Sloan glanced at her and smiled politely. “I don’t think we’re

supposed to admit that.”

“I’ll keep it a secret if you will.” Talia sipped her wine. It was better

than average for affairs of this type. And Sloan was far more attractive

in person than in her photos. Her body appeared to be solid muscle, and

her eyes were the most startling shade of indigo-violet. With her dark

hair and square jaw she exuded raw sexuality. Talia registered a spike

of pleasure and struggled against the urge to touch her, but she let her

interest show in her voice. “I’m quite good at keeping secrets.”

“That’s a rare skill.” Sloan watched the stage as Zamora moved

to the lectern. She stiffened as his left hand drifted over Michael’s

shoulder in passing.

“He’s quite charismatic, isn’t he?” Talia observed, leaning lightly

against Sloan’s arm. She wanted to set her off. Women like her could

be thrillingly unpredictable when ignited.

“Not my type,” Sloan said through gritted teeth.

“No,” Talia said with a laugh. Her breast brushed Sloan’s arm and

her nipple tightened so quickly she almost gasped. “I don’t imagine he

is.”

“Friend of yours?” Sloan asked.

“Not precisely.” Talia smiled as the woman onstage looked over

at Sloan, then took Talia in with a curious expression. Curiosity. Not

jealousy. That was interesting. “But she’s a friend of yours.”

Sloan finally focused on Talia, her expression moving from distant

politeness to intense scrutiny. “More than a friend. But you knew that,

didn’t you?”

Talia sipped her wine to hide her smile. Oh, this woman was very

good. Very very good and very very exciting. She would have to be

careful. “I made a calculated deduction. You’ve been watching her all

night.”

• 189 •

RADclY fFe

“Does that mean you’ve been watching me all night?”

“Oh my. Am I that obvious?”

“No. Not at all.”

Talia looked toward the stage, breaking eye contact. She wasn’t

usually concerned with what others could read in her expression, but

she feared Sloan might see more than she intended. She was painfully

aroused and she did not want Sloan to realize she had an advantage.

“He seems quite taken with her,” Talia said, then continued as

if she didn’t hear the sharp breath Sloan sucked in. “But then, that’s

understandable. She’s quite beautiful.”

“You can give him a message for me,” Sloan said. “Tell him it

would be dangerous for him to even think about her, let alone touch

her again.”

“If I knew him that well, I would surely give him your message.”

Talia slid her fingers around Sloan’s forearm. “But I do know him well

enough to know that he always gets what he wants.”

“Not this time.”

Her fingers shifted to Sloan’s hip, and down. She slipped her

card deep into the left front pocket of Sloan’s tuxedo pants, her fingers

gliding inward, stopping just short of the point of flagrant groping. “If

he gets to be a nuisance, call me. Maybe I can help.” When she withdrew

her hand, she let her fingers drift upward over Sloan’s abdomen. “Of

course, you can call me anytime.”

“I didn’t get your name,” Sloan said.

Talia reluctantly stepped back, finished her wine, and set her glass

aside. “It’s Talia. You have my number. I’ll look forward to your call.”

v

“Is she all right?” Catherine slipped her arm through Rebecca’s

and tilted her head toward Sloan.

“I don’t know.” Rebecca frowned, studying Sloan from across the

room. The crowd was breaking up, a few people lingering in small

clusters, trying for one last connection, one last vote, one last dollar.

Sloan was headed straight through the throng for Michael. “She’s strung

pretty tight. I thought she was just worried about Michael’s health.”

“But now you’re not sure?”

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Justice for All

Rebecca shook her head. “I can’t read her, which means she doesn’t

want me to.” She clasped Catherine’s hand. “What do you think?”

“I think everyone is under a great deal of pressure. I saw Sloan

at the hospital when Michael was injured. She was very badly shaken.

She’s understandably frightened and trying not to be.” Catherine sighed.

“She’s not all that different than you. She doesn’t know she doesn’t

have to be strong all the time.”

“Every cop is like that. And she’s a cop, even if she doesn’t want

to admit it.”

“I know.” Catherine turned aside for a few seconds to say good

night to the deputy mayor, then she placed a hand on Rebecca’s arm.

“Are you coming home with me?”

“I think we’re done here for the night.” Rebecca watched Zamora

move toward the exit, followed by his entourage of bodyguards

masquerading as business associates. He stopped every few feet to

speak with some highly placed official. The deputy mayor. The district

attorney. The head of one of the local political parties. “We’ve seen

what we came to see.”

“Then I’m going to take advantage of the few hours when you’re

not working and I’m actually awake. Let’s go.”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Does that include taking advantage

of me?”

Catherine laughed. “Most definitely, my darling.”

• 191 •

• 192 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER NINETEEN

Dell was always relieved to find that Irina hadn’t taken off. But

then, where would she go?

“Sorry I didn’t think of this sooner,” Dell said, setting a large

cardboard box down by the foot of the mattress. She noticed a neat

stack of magazines and newspapers nearby. Some in English, some

in Russian. She knelt down and started opening the box. “You read

English?”

“Yes.”

“I guess that’s a dumb question. You speak English.” Dell shook

her head. “Sorry.”

“It is all right.” Irina walked to the refrigerator. “There is beer. Do

you want one?”

Dell glanced over her shoulder, surprised when she saw Irina

holding up a bottle of the brand she drank. Irina wore navy slacks that

hugged her legs like skin and a pink V-neck tee with little sequins along

the neck. The shirt ended an inch or so above her waistband. Jewelry of

some kind winked in a navel piercing. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She

usually didn’t. Her breasts were a lot bigger than Sandy’s. Dell looked

away. “Beer would be great. Thanks. Did you have enough to eat?”

“I am fine here.” Irina placed the bottle on the floor next to Dell

and curled up on the mattress nearby. She popped her head on her elbow

and watched Dell work. “You brought a television?”

“I thought you might be bored.”

“We are not going out tonight?”

“I thought after last night we should lay low for a little bit.” Dell

sat back on her heels. “Did anything happen today? Did anyone call?

This guy Olik, he has your cell number, right?”

• 193 •

RADclY fFe

“Yes, although before he would not call me. He would call Yuri.

When he wanted the girls for something special.”

Dell tried not to let her disgust show. “When he wanted them for

what? You took care of scheduling them at the club—to dance, right?”

Irina reached for Dell’s beer and took a swallow, then put it back on

the floor. “A van would come and bring the girls to Ziggie’s and home

again after. They were always guarded. That was usual. But sometimes

he would want them for parties. Or to make a movie.”

“What did you tell them? How did you get them to do this?”

“I told them the truth,” Irina said. “That if they did not obey they

would never have a chance to be free.”

“So why hasn’t he called you?” Dell carried the television across

the room, placed it on the kitchen counter, and plugged it in. “Why

hasn’t he come after you?”

“With men like this, it is all about games in the mind,” Irina said.

“He will not want me to think I am important. He will want me back,

but he will make sure I understand it is because I belong to him, like

his car or his dogs. Maybe he thinks I am going hungry, maybe he

thinks I will be frightened alone. Maybe he wonders about my new

boyfriend.”

“You think he knows about us?” Dell leaned against the counter

and crossed her ankles, her arms braced on either side.

Irina smiled. “He does after last night. I have fucked boys for the

job, but I have never had a boyfriend before. He will be suspicious.”

“The bartender has seen us together before. He knows I was trying

to get with you.”

“Yes.” Irina seemed to focus on Dell’s crotch. “They know I was

playing with Mitch.”

“That’s good, then,” Dell said, acutely aware of not packing. She

felt naked even with her clothes on.

“Very good.” Irina’s gaze drifted back up to Dell’s face. “When

will we go out again?”

“Tomorrow or the next night. Unless something happens before

then.” Dell thought it was time to bring up the other items they had

to deal with. “We want you to talk to someone—a doctor—about

these men, about how you lived. What they did. Where you went with

them.”

Irina’s expression went blank. “A prison doctor?”

• 194 •

Justice for All

“No. Just a doctor to talk to. A therapist.”

“No drugs.”

“No,” Dell said quickly. “No. Only talking. About the girls. About

you. About things that have happened. It might help us figure out where

to look for them, and for the other girls. And your sister.”

“Where is this doctor? I won’t go to the police.”

“I’ll take you to see her. At her office, okay?”

“Her?”

Dell nodded. “It’s okay. You can trust her. I promise.”

Irina studied her for a long time. “You will be there?”

“If you want.”

“When?”

“Monday.”

“Will I see you before then?”

“Sure,” Dell said. “I’ll come by tomorrow sometime.”

“Then I will talk to your doctor.”

v

“Hello?” Sandy took a cell phone call as she climbed out of a cab

at the corner of Vine and Delaware Avenue. She handed the driver ten

dollars and motioned with her fingers for him to give her back three.

“Lily said you were looking for some extra action,” a female voice

said.

“Darla?” Sandy thought she recognized the soft Southern accent

of a black girl about her age. She didn’t know her very well, only that

she had a story like all their stories. A home she didn’t want to talk

about, a family that didn’t miss her, and the new family she’d made

with other girls like her, living in squats or four to a room in crowded

walk-up apartments. But they were making it. And they were proud of

that.

“Sandy? Yeah, it’s me. I wasn’t sure I had the right number at

first.”

“Where are you, honey? The Blue D?” Sandy skirted through

traffic and crossed to the far side of Delaware and hurried north.

“Nuh-uh. The Iron Fist.”

“Alone?” The Fist was a biker bar, and the clientele was into

heavy-duty action. Sandy tried to stay away from there, even when

• 195 •

RADclY fFe

she’d been working regular. She disliked sweating men mauling her

and demanding she do things they’d be embarrassed to ask their regular

girlfriends for. Somehow, giving blow jobs to some anxious accountant

whose wife was too uptight to put her mouth on his cock was a lot

different than having a drunken pig piss on her.

“A trick dropped me off in the parking lot,” Darla said. “I just ran

in to use the phone, and I bumped into one of the guys as they were

leaving. They said there’s a party tonight and they’d pick me up on the

corner of Spring Garden and Second in ten minutes. Wanna come?”

“Which guys are these again?” Sandy asked, crossing back

over Delaware. She was only a few blocks from Spring Garden. She

wondered if she could reach Dell, and if Dell would even have time to

get here before the guys showed up.

“I don’t know their names,” Darla said. “Foreign guys. Russians,

I guess. They’ve got money. They promised me five large just to hang

around this party.”

“Hang around?”

Darla laughed. “Well. You know. I figure that means put out a little

bit.”

“Who else you got lined up?”

“No one yet. You’re the only one I could reach.”

Sandy couldn’t let Darla go alone. She could be walking into

something she couldn’t handle. Even if Sandy didn’t want to get

information for Frye, she couldn’t let any girl, even one she didn’t

know that well, do something like this alone. Shit, Dell was going to be

pissed. “I’m five minutes away. Don’t go without me.”

“Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll tell them someone extra special is on the

way.”

v

Dell tucked her phone between her ear and shoulder while she

looked under the sink for a place to stash her empty. “You sound short

of breath or something. Where are you?” She got a sudden cramp in her

stomach followed by a very bad feeling. “San?”

Across the room, Irina sat up, watching her intently.

“I’m on Spring Garden. I’m meeting up with a girl who’s going to

a party with some Russian guys.”

• 196 •

Justice for All

“No!” Dell exploded. “Do not go. You hear me? Do not go. ”

“It’s just a party, baby. I won’t do anything, I promise.”

“I’m not talking about that. It’s not about that. God damn it, Sandy.

It’s not safe.”

“I’ve been to a hundred of these things, baby. I know how to

handle myself with party boys.”

“These are not just good-time guys. These are—”

“I can’t let her go alone.”

“Yes, you can! Yes, you fucking can! She’s not your responsibility.”

Dell turned in a fast hard circle. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t

know if she should run out the door and jump on her bike or if she

should call Frye. What she wanted to do was crawl through the phone

and shake Sandy until her teeth rattled.

“I’ll call you when I get there, okay? I’ll go to the bathroom or

something and call you. I’ll be okay.”

“Sandy, please don’t do this. San—”

“I’ll call you, baby.”

Dell was left staring at the silent phone. The helpless feeling was

so overwhelming she almost threw it across the room. For a second, she

didn’t know what to do. “Jesus. Jesus Jesus Jesus.”

“Tell me what she said.”

Dell focused on Irina and her training kicked in. She held up a

hand and punched in Frye’s number on her speed dial. Then she held

her breath and counted. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four ri—

“Frye.” The lieutenant sounded hoarse and a little breathless, as if

she were out running. Maybe she was.

“It’s Mitchell. Sandy’s gone off to a party with some Russians.”

“When?”

“Now. She just called me from Spring Garden.”

“Where on Spring Garden?”

Dell closed her eyes, wondering what the fuck kind of cop she was

anyhow. “I don’t know. Jesus, I—”

“Tell me exactly what she said.”

Frye’s voice was calm and steady and Dell felt herself settle. She

relayed the conversation, what little there had been of it.

“Where are you now?”

“In Queen Village. At Mitch’s apartment with Irina.” Dell checked

her watch. Half past midnight. “Should I call her back?”

• 197 •

RADclY fFe

“No. She might already be with them. I’ll raise Watts and we’ll

pick you up. If she calls in the meantime, find out where she is and call

me back.”

“Okay.” Dell took a full breath, the first one in what felt like a

long time, and her brain seemed to click into gear. “Maybe Irina knows

something that can help us.”

“Good idea. Stay put. I’ll be right there.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” Dell disconnected and shoved

the phone back into her jacket pocket. “Do you know where they take

the girls to party?”

“There are a few places. Hotels, usually.”

“Names. Can you tell me names?” Dell searched through her

jacket and came up with a takeout receipt. “Pencil? Pen?”

Irina found her bag, fumbled in it for a few seconds, and handed

Dell a ballpoint pen. “I am not sure of all the names. I had no reason to

look at them. This is your girlfriend?”

Dell clenched her jaw and nodded. “Just tell me anything you can

remember.”

“They are not going to hurt her, Mitch. They don’t hurt the girls.

They need them. As long as they think she is just there for them to use,

she will be fine.”

“Fine.” The word felt like ashes on Dell’s tongue. As long as

Sandy let them use her, she would be fine. But Dell knew Sandy, and

even when she was still hooking to survive, Sandy never let anyone use

her. Christ, she had to find her. “Whatever you can remember.”

v

“I’m sorry about this,” Rebecca said, pulling on a pair of jeans.

“It’s all right. Is Sandy in trouble?” Catherine got out of bed and

found a pair of silk pajamas. She handed Rebecca a black pullover that

Rebecca shrugged on without even looking at it.

“Hopefully not. She could be with some college guys who are just

looking for a few girls to liven up their weekend in town. I don’t have

much information.” Rebecca opened the bedside drawer and pulled out

her weapon and shoulder harness. “God damn it. What the hell was she

thinking?”

“I imagine she’s thinking that she’s doing her job.”

• 198 •

Justice for All

Rebecca stopped moving. “Her job?”

“She is your CI still, isn’t she? You pay her to find out things. To

talk to people who won’t talk to anyone else. To go places no one else

can go.”

“I don’t pay her to put herself in danger.” Rebecca realized as

soon as she spoke that it was bullshit. Every time she asked Sandy to

pump her sources for information, she was asking her to take a risk. If

someone got suspicious and made her as an informant, Sandy wouldn’t

live long. “Ah, hell. You think I’m wrong, don’t you, for using her.”

Catherine sighed. “Rebecca, I wish many things in this world

were different. I wish Sandy had never had to sell her body to survive. I

wish there weren’t men who use the misfortune of girls like her for their

own pleasure. I wish you didn’t have to put the people you care about

in danger to stop evil. We live with what we must, and you do what you

must. You are not using her. Sandy is far too strong for that. Remember,

she’s very resourceful. And very, very bright.”

Rebecca sat down on the bed next to Catherine and took her hand.

“You help me see things in ways I never have before. You don’t excuse

me, and that’s okay. But you understand me, and that…that means

everything to me.”

Catherine took Rebecca’s face in her hands and kissed her. “I love

you. If you didn’t see the world the way you do, you wouldn’t be so

good at your job. And you need to be good at your job to keep yourself

and the others safe. And to do what’s right.” She brushed her fingers

through Rebecca’s hair. “Go now. Be careful.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Rebecca kissed her swiftly and

disappeared into the night, again.

v

Sandy made it to the corner of Spring Garden and Vine just as a

Lincoln Navigator with blacked-out windows veered out of traffic and

shot to the curb where Darla leaned against a signpost. Like Sandy, she

wore a miniskirt that hit just below the crease of her ass, although her

skirt was shiny red vinyl and Sandy’s was a black stretchy material.

They both wore cheap, skimpy jackets with oversized zippers and not

much else underneath.

Darla waved to Sandy, relief showing on her face in the light of

• 199 •

RADclY fFe

the street lamp just above them. The back door of the Navigator swung

open and a man stepped out. He wore dark slacks, a black leather

jacket, and sunglasses, which was weird, because it was the middle of

the night. He didn’t look like a college boy. He looked exactly like what

Sandy figured he was. A thug, probably a pimp. Not the ordinary kind

of pimp who provided girls shelter and protection, ha ha, in exchange

for the money they earned on their knees and their backs. No, this guy

looked like he worked for some man who didn’t want to get his hands

dirty, so he sent his men out to get what he wanted. And apparently, he

wanted pussy.

“Hi,” Sandy said, swinging her ass as she hurried toward Darla.

She hooked her arm through Darla’s and kissed her cheek. Then she

tossed her head and smiled at the man who stood watching them. “Are

these our dates, honey?”

“I guess,” Darla said, looking a little uncertain.

Sandy figured this wasn’t the guy Darla had talked to in the parking

lot at the Fist. Guys like the ones in the Navigator didn’t troll the streets

for what they wanted. They had someone else do it. She tried to get a

look at the rear of the car as she and Darla walked over, but she couldn’t

see the license plate.

“Who’s your friend,” the man said to Darla in crisp English. He

had an accent, but his speech was polished.

“This is—”

“Samantha,” Sandy said quickly, cocking her hips to give him a

good look at her legs as the skirt pulled up almost to her crotch. “But

everyone calls me Sam. Darla says we’re going to a party. I can’t wait.

I love parties.”

He looked them over for a long minute, then stepped aside and

gestured to the rear of the SUV. Sandy looked down the street, but she

didn’t see Dell’s motorcycle or anything resembling a cop car. Used to

be Frye showed up in her Corvette, but lately she’d been in a standard

issue. There was no sign of an unmarked. Which meant no one was

going to know where they went. She took Darla’s hand. “Well, come

on, honey. Let’s party!”

Sandy slid into the backseat where another man waited on the far

side and Darla crowded next to her, as if seeking shelter. Then the door

closed and the Navigator pulled out and headed north. Sandy tried to

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Justice for All

get a look out the window around the big guy sitting next to her, but all

she could see was the sign pointing to the on-ramp to 95 North.

They could be anywhere from Trenton to New York City in an

hour.

v

Michael reached out in the dark and switched on the bedside light

when she felt Sloan get out of bed. Sitting up, she let the sheet fall to

her waist. Sloan stood just inside the bedroom door, pulling on a T-shirt

over her boxers. “Can’t sleep?”

“Hey,” Sloan whispered. “Sorry. I thought you were asleep.”

“Drifting. I didn’t drink because I was afraid it might give me a

headache, so I didn’t have anything to dull the pain of the evening.”

Sloan laughed. “You too, huh?”

“It did seem endless. I’d forgotten how much I dislike these

functions, even if they are for a good cause.” Michael shrugged. “I’m

not altogether certain about this particular cause.”

Sloan sat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t like the mayor?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know him, but I’m not entirely certain that

he’s really the one making the decisions.” She frowned. “There was a

very interesting assortment of people there tonight.”

“Some pretty high-powered ones,” Sloan said carefully, not

wanting to alarm her unnecessarily. Even though Michael said she was

feeling better, she’d only begun to put in regular workdays and she

still seemed pale and fragile. The last thing she needed was to worry

about things that might not even involve her. Not when Sloan had a

feeling she was the one who really interested Zamora. If he didn’t want

her attention, why send those photos to her computer? They had to

be a warning. And if they were, then it was Sloan they wanted, not

Michael. “Your neighbor tonight—Zamora. I understand he’s pretty

influential.”

“Mmm,” Michael said absently. “He owns a great deal of real

estate along both sides of the river, as well as major shares in several

investment companies.” She reached for the cup of tea she’d left on her

bedside table, and sipped it. “It’s funny you should mention him. He

contacted me yesterday about a business proposal.”

• 201 •

RADclY fFe

“For Innova?” Sloan asked. Michael’s design company had an

international reputation, and Michael was often approached with

investment opportunities. She didn’t believe for a second that was

Zamora’s true intention, but Michael had no reason to suspect him of

anything out of the ordinary, so Sloan forced herself to sound casual.

“What did you tell him?”

Michael leaned back against the pillows and stroked Sloan’s

forearm. “Oh, I told him I’d keep him in mind.” She smiled. “But that

right now, I wasn’t looking for partners.”

“He seemed pretty friendly at dinner tonight.”

“With men like that, charm comes naturally. He reminds me of

Nicholas.”

Sloan wanted to say that Michael’s ex-husband Nicholas, a low-life cheating embezzler, was a choirboy compared to Kratos Zamora.

“Impressed with himself, huh?”

Michael smiled. “He’s certainly self-assured.” She threaded her

fingers through Sloan’s and gave her hand a little shake. “I noticed you

getting some attention yourself.”

Sloan frowned. “I don’t—”

“The redhead in the very revealing dress.”

“Oh. Her.” Sloan thought about the business card with a telephone

number scrawled on the back she’d slid from the front pocket of her

pants and stowed in the glove compartment of her car when Michael

wasn’t looking. She thought about the fingers grazing the inside of her

thigh, drifting over her stomach. “She was just making idle chat.”

“I’ve never seen her before. Who is she?”

“I don’t know. Probably another Society Hill heiress with more

money than she knows what to do with. Isn’t that one of the primary

requirements for an invitation to fund-raisers like this?”

“Well, the money part certainly is.” Michael sighed. “Will you try

to come back to bed tonight?”

Sloan leaned over and kissed her. “I just want to check a few

things. I won’t be long.”

Michael cupped the back of Sloan’s neck and held her close for

another long kiss. “Wake me when you come to bed.”

v

• 202 •

Justice for All

“That’s our second pass through here,” Rebecca said. “I don’t see

her.”

Dell leaned forward from the back seat of the unmarked, craning

her neck to see around Watts. This section of Spring Garden was

crowded with bars, and foot traffic was heavy. They were almost to

Delaware Avenue, and they still hadn’t seen Sandy.

“Maybe she walked up a few blocks. Let’s go around again,” Dell

urged.

“Hey, kid, you’re breathing down my neck,” Watts said. “Take it

easy. We’ll find her.”

“How?” Dell snapped. “She’s gone already. She could be

anywhere.”

Rebecca pulled into the darkened parking lot of a restaurant that

had gone out of business and turned off the engine. “We wait for her

to call us.”

“I’m going to check the clubs,” Dell said, pushing open the back

door. “Someone may have talked to these guys tonight. They might

know where the party is.”

“Yo,” Watts yelled, reaching for his door.

“I’ll handle it,” Rebecca said quietly. She slid out of the car and

closed her door. “Mitchell. Wait.”

Dell took another few steps, then stopped just short of the street.

Rebecca walked unhurriedly over to her. “Step back from the light.”

Together, they moved into the shadows of the boarded-up

building.

“Why is it a bad idea for you to start asking around about Sandy

in the clubs?”

Dell balled up her fists, her arms rigid at her sides, and looked

past Rebecca at the cars streaming by on the street. She didn’t want to

answer the question. She didn’t want to think about why she couldn’t

do what she needed to do to find Sandy. To look after her. She didn’t

want to have to choose anything over the woman she loved, ever again.

“I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t be a cop if it means I have to put everything else in front

of her.” She stared at Rebecca, her eyes hot with tears she refused to

shed. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.”

“What do you think is going to change if you’re not a cop

• 203 •

RADclY fFe

anymore?” Rebecca leaned against the building as if they had all the

time in the world to talk.

“I could…”

“What? Spend your time following her around? Checking out her

friends? Making sure she doesn’t go anywhere she could get hurt?”

Rebecca laughed. “Sandy would hand you your ass in under a week.”

“I could look for her right now. I wouldn’t have to worry about

blowing my cover. That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it? I’m

supposed to be with Irina now. So I can’t go running around trying to

find out if Sandy talked to some Russians tonight.”

“It wouldn’t be a very good idea, no. And chances are slim to none

you’d find out anything anyhow.”

“But what if it did make a difference,” Dell insisted. “What if I

found one of her friends who knew these guys, too, and they could tell

me where the party was.”

“What would you do? Crash it? All that would do is probably

get both of you beaten up.” Rebecca straightened. “You’ve had a lot

thrown at you in a short time. You’re undercover, and that’s always a

tough assignment. Sandy is right in the thick of things, and I know it’s

hard. Hard and…scary.”

“I let the Army take everything from me,” Dell said hoarsely.

“Everything I thought I was, everything I thought I believed in. The

woman I thought loved me. I couldn’t do a damn thing to change it.”

“You’re not alone now. You’ve got help. That’s why we’re here.”

Rebecca gestured toward the car. “Now we’ve got a lot of work to do

and it’s gonna be a long night. I suggest you sit your ass down and wait

for her to call. She’ll call.”

“I’m sorry I’m not…” Dell pushed her hand through her hair.

“Fuck, I’m sorry if I let you down.”

Rebecca clasped the back of Dell’s neck and rubbed the tight

muscles for a few seconds. “You haven’t let anybody down. And you

won’t. Not me. Not Sandy. Come on, let’s go.”

Rebecca dropped her hand and walked away, and after a second’s

hesitation, Dell followed. As she walked across the cold dark parking

lot, she felt the warmth in the back of her neck where Rebecca had

touched her. She didn’t understand it, but she wished for that touch to

return.

• 204 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy

Well, Sandy thought, she was right about one thing. They

were in Trenton. She caught a quick glimpse of a sign as

they pulled off I-95. She couldn’t see much else with the silent giant

next to her blocking most of the window. He hadn’t said anything. He

hadn’t touched her, for which she was thankful. Darla had been silent

for the entire forty-minute trip too.

“So where is this place?” Sandy asked brightly. She’d tried getting

information from the Russian a couple of times, but every question

she asked was greeted with a grunt or nothing at all. “Don’t they have

hotels in Philly? We have to come all the way up here for a party?” She

leaned forward and turned sideways on the seat so she could peer into

the man’s face. “Hey. You’re not sleeping, are you? We’re gonna party

tonight, remember?”

“I am not sleeping,” he said roughly.

“So where are we going?”

“We will be there soon.”

Sandy debated pushing him a little bit further, but she didn’t think

he was going to talk and she was pretty certain if she pushed him too

far, she’d find herself on the side of the road. Maybe walking, maybe

not moving at all. She settled back down on the seat.

“Is there anything to drink?”

“There will be drinks at the party. But you should not drink.”

“Why not?”

“Because men do not like drunken girls.”

“These guys. They’re your friends? Germans, like you?”

“I am Russian, not German,” he growled, confirming her

guesswork.

• 205 •

RADclY fFe

“Oh, cool.” Sandy felt the car slow and slid her hand into the

front pocket of her jacket. Her fingers closed over her cell phone. “Hey,

we’re here. Cool.”

A few seconds later, the rear door opened and the first man reached

in and grasped Darla’s hand. He guided her out, not roughly, but he kept

a grip on her, as if she might suddenly run away. When Sandy climbed

out, the other guy was right behind her. She glanced around quickly.

They were in the turnaround at the side entrance to a hotel, and she

couldn’t see the main sign from where they were. She could make out

letters on the glass door of the entrance opposite where they parked. A

hand closed around her left arm, marching her quickly toward the hotel.

She slid the cell phone from her pocket and held it down by her leg,

pushing buttons from memory. When they got almost up to the door,

she took a picture, hoping she got the name. Then she carefully slid it

back into her jacket. She had a lot more pictures to take.

She stepped into the hotel and put on a bright smile as they waited

for an elevator. “This is going to be fun.”

Twenty-second floor, room 2208. She repeated the numbers to

herself. She and Darla were sandwiched between the two big men in

front of a room at the end of the hall. When the door opened, she felt

a hand on the small of her back directing her forward. The suite was

huge, with two seating areas joined by open double pocket doors. She

counted eight men at first glance and three or four girls about her age.

The men all wore shirts and trousers, as if they had just recently come

from a business meeting. The girls didn’t wear much of anything at all.

Short skirts, thin cotton tops, high heels or thigh-high boots. A couple

looked young. Really young. Fifteen, maybe. She knew, because she’d

been fifteen when she’d started. But she hadn’t started off in places like

this. The first trick she’d ever turned was in a bus station. She’d blown

a guy for the price of a ticket to somewhere, anywhere, except where

she was.

The night she’d met Dell she’d been giving a routine hand job in

an alley when the john decided to get rough. If Dell hadn’t stepped in,

she probably would have been able to handle him, but she’d have worn

the bruises on her face and body for a long time. Sandy pushed that

memory away. She wasn’t that girl anymore. She wasn’t a girl at all.

Next to her, she sensed Darla getting skittish. She had probably

expected a fraternity party, with boys and beer and a couple of blow

• 206 •

Justice for All

jobs in the bathroom. These were not boys. These were men, and the

way the men looked at them made it clear they considered the girls on

a par with the trays of hors d’oeuvres sitting around the room. She was

surprised that most of them were speaking English. For some reason,

she’d expected them to be foreign, like the guys who brought them, but

they weren’t.

Sandy took Darla’s arm and tugged her toward the wet bar along

one side of the room. The surface was covered with ice buckets, open

bottles of liquor and champagne, and stacks of glasses. “Let’s get a

drink, honey,” she said loudly, “and then we can get acquainted with

these handsome men.”

“This place is creeping me out,” Darla whispered. “Who are these

guys?”

As they reached the bar, Sandy lowered her voice. No one was

really paying all that much attention to them, and she slid her camera

from her pocket again. “High rollers. If you hear a name, try to remember

it. Mix us a couple of drinks. Make them weak—mostly water and ice.

You want them to think you’re partying, but you need to keep your head

on straight, okay?”

“Can’t we just get out of here?” Darla pleaded. “I’ve got enough

money for us to get home on the bus.”

“Once you tell these guys you’re in, you’re in for the whole ride.

It’s the safest way to play it.” Sandy leaned on the bar, her phone

propped between a couple of glasses. She shielded her cell with her

hands, hoping there was enough space between the glasses to get some

shots of the guys sitting around the room.

“Should I offer to do them or anything?” Darla dumped ice cubes

into a couple of short glasses and dashed a little scotch into each one.

“Just sit down next to one of them with your drink and wait until

someone talks to you. They’ll let you know what they want. Try not to

go into a room alone with any of them. After they’ve had a few drinks,

they’ll probably do it right out here.”

“Don’t leave me, okay?” Darla said, her voice trembling.

“I won’t. I gotta pee right now, but I won’t go anywhere.

Promise.”

v

• 207 •

RADclY fFe

Watts shifted in the front seat and the car rocked slightly. “There’s

a Stop and Rob around the corner. I could use some coffee. Anyone

else?”

“Not me,” Rebecca said.

“I’m okay.” Dell checked her watch again. 1:30. Jesus. “Don’t

take too long, huh?”

“You need me, you know where I am.” Watts heaved himself out

of the vehicle and slammed the door.

Dell leaned her head back against the seat and stared at the

ceiling. “I shouldn’t have left her alone. I went over to check on Irina.

I should’ve stayed home.”

“It’s Saturday night,” Rebecca said. “Sandy is usually out and

about for a while.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dell sighed. “Sorry. Guess I messed up your

night. Watts’s too.”

“It’s not a big deal, Mitchell. I wasn’t asleep yet, and Watts was

just heading out for a late date when I called him.”

Dell rocked forward. “A date? Watts?”

“Apparently with a certain Port Authority captain.” Rebecca

chuckled. “Anyhow, this is the job. And it’s Sandy.”

“Man, I—” Dell’s cell rang and she jerked, fumbling at her belt.

She yanked it off. “Mitchell.”

“Baby, it’s—”

“Sandy,” Dell said, forcing herself to be calm. “Tell me where you

are.”

“I don’t know exactly. Somewhere in Trenton.”

Sandy spoke so softly Dell had to close her eyes and concentrate

as hard as she could to hear her over the pounding of her own heart.

Some kind of rushing noise in the background. Water running? “Are

you in a house somewhere? Did you see any street signs?”

“No, a hotel. Wait a minute. Let me see. I took a picture.”

Dell’s stomach twisted into a chain of knots. “Can you leave?

Sandy, can you leave right now?”

“I don’t think so. Darla’s with me. I don’t think they’re going to

let us just walk out.” Silence. “There. Sheraton.”

“Which one? Does it say?”

“I’m not sure. Close to 95.”

“We’ll be ther—”

• 208 •

Justice for All

“I gotta go, baby. I’ll try to call you when we’re leaving. It might

not be until morning.”

“Jesus, Sandy,” Dell yelled, finally losing her cool. “I want you to

get out of there. You—”

“I’ll be okay. I love you.”

Dell was left listening to dead air again. “Jesus Christ!”

“Where is she?” Rebecca said, starting the engine.

“Trenton. Fucking Trenton!”

Rebecca pulled out onto Spring Garden and headed east, cruising

around the corner toward the all-night food mart. Watts was just

walking up the street with his coffee. She eased up to the curb next

to him. “We’ll head up there. But chances are whoever took her will

transport her right back down here. They’re not likely to hurt these

girls, Mitchell, as long as they don’t find out what Sandy’s doing there.

And Sandy’s smart.”

“If she was that smart, she wouldn’t be there.”

“No. If she weren’t as brave and ballsy, she wouldn’t be there.”

Mitchell rubbed her face. “I could use some of those balls right

now.”

“What’s this about your balls?” Watts said, sliding into his seat.

“You having equipment problems, kid?”

“Not now, Watts,” Rebecca said softly.

“No,” Dell said gruffly. “Woman problems.”

Watts blew on his coffee. “Join the rest of us, kid.”

v

Sandy didn’t think she’d been gone more than a few minutes, but

when she returned, someone had turned the lights down so that she

almost stumbled over an end table. Darla was on the sofa next to a thin

man in a white shirt and dark pants. He’d removed his jacket and tie

and had his arm draped over her shoulders, his hand on her breast.

Sandy scanned the room. The Russian who’d been in the backseat

with her leaned against the wall next to the hallway door. His gaze

flicked over her as if she weren’t there, but she had no doubt he knew

exactly where she was. Since no one seemed to be paying her any

particular attention, she sauntered over to Darla and plopped down next

to her. She leaned close, and to anyone looking, it would almost seem

• 209 •

RADclY fFe

as if she had kissed her neck. She knew from experience that at these

kinds of parties, guys got off on seeing girls getting it on together. Most

of her friends in the life were totally comfortable having sex with each

other, and most of the time, would prefer it to the anonymous johns. So

they always tried distracting the men with a little girl-on-girl action at

parties like this. If they got really lucky, sometimes that was enough.

“Everything okay?” Sandy whispered.

Darla clamped onto her thigh with one hand as if to anchor her

to the couch. Then she turned and kissed Sandy full on the mouth.

“Missed you, baby.”

Sandy snuggled close, checking to see who might be watching

them out of the corner of her eye. A girl knelt on the floor in front

of the adjacent chair, giving a man a blow job while he talked on the

phone. On the opposite sofa, a big man with hands the size of baseball

gloves mauled another girl’s breasts, which he had exposed by pulling

her top down and scooping them out like treats from a candy sack.

Sandy hadn’t done anything like this in weeks, longer really, since

she’d started falling in love with Dell, and she was sickened in a way

she never had been before. She had been numb for a very long time, but

she wasn’t anymore. Now she was even more determined to stop these

men. All of these men.

“Well, I’m back now and I promise not to leave your side for the

whole night. Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is…” Darla, despite being a little freaked by her

surroundings, was no neophyte. She read Sandy’s message loud and

clear. Dropping her free hand into the thin man’s crotch, she squeezed

fleetingly, making him grunt in surprise. “What did you say your name

was, honey?”

“I didn’t.” He looked past Darla to Sandy. “Who are you?”

“I’m Sam,” Sandy said, putting a purr in her voice. “I guess my

girlfriend got the lucky seat first.”

“You two together?”

“Uh-huh,” Darla and Sandy answered in unison.

Sandy saw his pants tent under Darla’s hand. Bingo. He liked

to watch, and watching was the safest thing for them. If they were

really lucky, they could string him along until all the other guys were

occupied.

• 210 •

Justice for All

“You don’t mind if I join in, do you?” Sandy slid her arm around

Darla’s waist and nuzzled her throat.

“Kiss her,” he said, covering Darla’s hand with his and curling her

fingers around the ridge in his pants.

Darla had had practice at this, and they made it look and sound

like they were really into each other, showing a lot of tongue more than

really kissing. Giving the guy what he expected. Sandy almost never

kissed her johns, and hadn’t kissed another woman since Dell. The

touch of Darla’s mouth felt strange. Too soft, too casual. When Dell

kissed her, she always felt Dell’s need. Dell’s hunger for her. Dell’s

kisses could be gentle, but they were always demanding. This was an

act, and that was cool with her, especially if it kept her mouth off some

guy’s cock.

“Go slow on him,” Sandy whispered in Darla’s ear when they

broke for breath. “Don’t let him come right away until everyone else

gets busy.”

They went back to fondling and making out while Darla massaged

him through his pants. After a while, he unzipped and pulled himself

out, but Darla knew how to stretch a hand job into a marathon. By the

time he came, everyone else in the room was busy. No one bothered

Sandy and Darla as they curled up together in the corner of the couch.

After a while the thin man tucked his flaccid penis back in his pants and

sat with his eyes closed, drinking his drink.

v

“What about letting me check out the lobby.” Dell stared at the

hotel, her skin itching like fire ants were crawling inside her clothes.

Sandy was in there somewhere. With men who would dispose of her

like so much trash if they discovered why she was there. Even if they

didn’t hurt her, they were using her. Dell knew what Sandy had done

to survive. She didn’t care what Sandy might have to do tonight to stay

safe, as long as doing it didn’t hurt Sandy.

“Can’t,” Rebecca said. “You can bet there’s someone in the

lobby. They’ll have someone watching the ground-floor elevators, the

stairwells, and outside in the hall by the room. No one is going to get

close to the men in there.”

• 211 •

RADclY fFe

“I can get a look at the guy.”

“And he might look at you. We can’t risk it.” Rebecca turned

sideways and stared at Dell in the faint glow of the hotel marquee.

“You’re going to get up close and personal with these guys. But when

you do, it’s going to be because Irina introduces you.”

“I’ll take a walk around the block,” Watts said. “They’re going to

have a car, maybe two, near an exit. I’ll get the license plates.”

“Make sure your cell is on,” Rebecca said. He waved a hand as he

closed the door.

“What good is it to her with us out here,” Dell griped.

“This is surveillance, Mitchell. You know how it works. We

watch.” Rebecca moved her seat back to give herself more legroom

and rubbed the back of her neck.

“You okay?” Dell asked quietly.

“Yes. Little headache. It’s nothing.”

“I’m sorry. I keep thinking I should’ve seen this coming.”

Rebecca laughed softly. “If you ever get to the point where you

know what Sandy’s going to do before she does it, let me know. I’ll

promote you.”

“Irina agreed to talk to Dr. Rawlings.”

Rebecca turned her head. “Really? Nice work.”

“I think if we could get Witsec for her, she’ll come around about

her sister too.”

“I’ll talk to Clark on Monday.” Rebecca grunted. “Hell. Why

should he have a day off. I’ll call him later on today.”

“I want to be at the next one of these parties,” Dell said.

“Good. Because that’s the plan.”

v

By sometime around 4:00 a.m., the only sounds in the suite were

a few intermittent moans. Several of the girls were curled up asleep on

the floor or draped over slumbering men. A few men, still awake, sat

drinking and talking. Another was being serviced by two girls, one with

her mouth on his cock, the other offering him her breasts to bite.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” Sandy whispered.

She slid from the couch and carefully slipped into the shadows,

making her way down the hall. Earlier when she’d gone to the bathroom

• 212 •

Justice for All

to call Dell, she’d seen an open door with coats on a bed. After checking

that the hall was clear, she darted into that bedroom and closed the

door almost completely. A wall sconce gave her just enough light to

maneuver by. She pulled her camera out one more time and rummaged

through the coats. She knew where to look and quickly found several

wallets. Holding the billfolds open to the light, she shot pictures of the

driver’s licenses behind their clear plastic coverings. She had no idea

if her cell phone camera would be good enough for what she needed,

so she committed the names to memory. But she knew her word would

never be enough. She needed proof.

She’d just opened the third wallet when a muffled curse and the

sound of stumbling footsteps alerted her that someone was approaching.

Her options were limited. The bed was too close to the floor to crawl

under. She didn’t want to hide in the closet in case someone had left their

coat in there and was coming to retrieve it. Behind the bedroom door.

No. If someone came in and closed the door, she would be instantly

exposed. She shoved the wallets back into the coats, praying she had

them in the right order, and bolted over the bed and onto the floor on

the far side, rolling as close to the bed as possible. The bedroom door

opened wide and a shaft of dim light, seeming as bright as a searchlight

beam, cut across the room. Sandy held her breath, afraid her panting

would give her away. Heavy footsteps approached. The bed sagged as

someone sat on the far side, then she heard a few mumbled words in a

language she couldn’t understand. It must be one of the Russians.

The unmistakable sound of a zipper sliding down, a grunt, then

the liquid sounds of someone sucking. He was collecting a little bonus

pay before leaving, which meant that the party was probably going to

break up soon. Within minutes he was breathing heavily, and Sandy

prayed he would pop quickly before other men began rousing to leave.

His grunting increased and the sucking turned to gagging chokes. The

bastard wasn’t letting her breathe, and it was all Sandy could do not to

vault over the bed and smash him in the face. She squeezed her eyes

tightly shut, closed her hands until her nails dug into her palms, and

told herself she would only make matters worse if she were discovered.

He gave a hoarse cry and she slowly let out her breath. It was over,

and within seconds, they were gone. Trembling, she got to her knees,

checked that the room was empty, and hurried to the door. The hall was

clear.

• 213 •

RADclY fFe

The lights in the main rooms were still turned down low, but as

soon as she angled toward the couch she realized something was wrong.

Darla wasn’t there. Quickly, she hurried back down the hall the way she

had come. Beyond the room where the coats were stored was another

room, and she could hear the wet slap of flesh on flesh. She could also

hear Darla crying no.

Bastards. Sandy shoved open the door and stormed across the

room all in one motion, yelling, “Hey! That’s my girl.”

A heavy man with his pants down around his thighs had Darla

pinned to the bed, one hand on her throat, the other on his cock, which

he was trying to shove between her legs. Even in the half light, Sandy

could see Darla’s eyes bulging. He was choking her for real. Sandy

shoved his shoulder with both hands as hard as she could, catching

him unawares and forcing him to release Darla as he stumbled. He was

too quick for her to avoid the slashing backhand blow that caught her

across the face and knocked her onto the floor. She felt her lip split and

managed to roll partially onto her side so that the kick caught her on the

back, and not in the face. The force of the blow knocked the air from

her lungs, and a buzzing filled her head as another kick skidded off her

temple. She gagged, gasping for air, and dimly heard Darla screaming.

Then angry shouts in English, then Russian. Someone lifted her onto

the bed next to Darla, who gathered her into her arms.

“Leave her alone,” Darla shouted. “That bastard was choking

me.” “Let it go,” Sandy mumbled, still dizzy and sick. “Don’t fight

them.”

Darla pressed her face to the top of Sandy’s head. “I’m sorry. I’m

sorry. You told me not to go anywhere with anyone. But he said to come

with him and I—”

“S’okay. S’okay.”

“We go now,” one of the Russians who had brought them said

impatiently. He grabbed them by their arms and yanked them up.

“Now.”

Sandy’s right arm was numb, but her shoulder was in agony,

and when he jerked her up, her knees gave way. “Wait. Just a minute.

Please.”

“No,” he said fiercely and dragged her down the hall toward the

door.

• 214 •

Justice for All

Her vision swam and she was only dimly aware of the elevator,

the bright lights of the lobby, the cold night air. “Darla?”

“I’m here, honey,” Darla whispered.

Baby, Sandy thought as the doors to the Navigator opened and the

big man pushed her inside. Dell, baby, I’m so sorry.

• 215 •

• 216 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-ONE

Sloan swirled the melting ice cubes absently in her glass,

then swallowed the rest of the vodka while keying in a new

diagnostic with one hand. She was close. Very close. There was a ghost

in her machine, and she intended to find it and follow it.

“You’re not quite as good as you think, are you,” she murmured.

She thought of the men she’d seen earlier that night with Kratos

Zamora. Somehow, none of them struck her as likely candidates to be

her hacker, but appearances really meant nothing. Still, they all looked

like handlers or enforcers. Maybe Gregor, the brother, was more than

just a figurehead. Maybe he was the brains after all.

While the program ran, she wandered back to the small kitchen to

replenish her drink. It was almost dawn. She’d told Michael she wouldn’t

be long. That was hours ago, and Michael would be asleep, which was

what she really needed, not Sloan’s restless anger. Sloan poured an inch

into her glass, not bothering with ice, and leaned against the counter as

she sipped it. Her nervous system twanged as if a continuous current

ran through it, keeping her edgy. The vodka stirred a fire in the pit of

her stomach and with her ass pressed into the counter, she thought of

Michael kneeling in front of her in the bathroom earlier, taking her into

her mouth, soothing her even as she burned away her unrest.

She sighed and put her glass in the sink. When she returned to

her desk, code scrolled rapidly down her screen. It might be a while.

She clasped her hands between her knees and fought not to think about

the images of Michael and Zamora that had covered her screen earlier.

Mocking her. With an oath, she shot upright and her chair spun away.

She covered the distance to the stairs in a few rapid strides and

• 217 •

RADclY fFe

was in the loft seconds later. She only slowed as she reached the

corridor leading to their bedroom. She did not want to frighten Michael.

She undressed in the semidarkness and slid into bed, nude. Carefully,

she pressed against Michael’s back, sliding her arm around Michael’s

waist.

Michael murmured and rolled over, drawing Sloan’s hand to her

breast. “Sloan?”

“It’s me, baby.”

“Is it late?”

“Yes.” Sloan kissed Michael’s forehead. Her skin was smooth,

warm, her breasts soft against Sloan’s chest. She rubbed her hand up

and down Michael’s back, feeling calmed by the caress.

“Are you all right?” Michael asked.

“I just needed to be with you.”

Michael ran her fingers through Sloan’s hair. “Do you need to

make love?”

“No.” Sloan pillowed her head on Michael’s breast, realizing that

the beat of Michael’s heart, the scent of her skin, the touch of her hand

was enough. For now, in this moment, she had everything she needed.

“I just need this.”

“Go to sleep, darling. Can you do that for me?” Michael

murmured.

“Yes.”

“And will you be here when I wake up, so I can have you? I need

you.”

“I’ll be here.”

v

Watts pulled open the passenger door and slid into the front seat.

Puffing slightly, he snapped, “Head down to the corner and turn right.

They’re moving and we’ve got trouble.”

“Got it.” Rebecca started the sedan and took off in the direction

Watts indicated.

Dell rocketed forward from the backseat. “What’s going on?”

“Three guys just came out a side entrance—right around the corner

in that narrow service alley we passed—with Sandy and the black girl.

• 218 •

Justice for All

Darla.” Watts glanced over his shoulder. “One guy was holding Sandy

up. She wasn’t walking any too steady. Drunk maybe. Or high.”

“No,” Dell said instantly. “She wouldn’t be. She doesn’t use, and

even if she has to take a hit of something to keep her cover, she’s careful

to keep her head on straight.”

“There.” Watts pointed through the windshield. “Four cars up.

The Navigator.”

“I see it,” Rebecca said calmly. “What’s your read, Watts?”

“I couldn’t tell for sure, but if Sandy’s not high, she’s hurt.”

“Fuck,” Dell exclaimed. “Fuck! We have to get her out of there.”

Rebecca dropped back when one of the cars in front of them

turned off, leaving them too close to the Navigator. Without another

backup car to work with them, they couldn’t leapfrog, making it more

likely the driver of the SUV would pick up on their presence. She had to

think looking for a tail would be SOP for those guys. “They’re heading

for 95.”

“There’s a two-block stretch that’s pretty deserted right before the

on-ramp,” Watts commented casually. “We could probably take them

there. They’re sure to have firepower. If they use it, it could turn into a

clusterfuck to end all clusterfucks.”

Rebecca glanced back at Dell, then at the road. “Detective, you

make the call.”

Detective, you make the call. Just like that, everything inside Dell

went still. Sandy was in the SUV ahead of them. Maybe seriously hurt.

An innocent civilian was with her. And her partners, her fellow cops,

were in this car waiting for her to decide what they would all do next,

putting their lives in her hands. What was happening was bigger than

her fear, bigger than her anger. If she traded Sandy for any one of the

others—the lieutenant, Watts, Sandy’s friend—Sandy would never

forgive her, and she would have failed in her duty. She’d been trained to

lead soldiers in battle. To make the necessary sacrifices. And to never,

ever, leave one of her own behind. She had never feared for her own

life, and she had been honored to be responsible for the lives of her

fellow soldiers.

“Here’s the plan,” Dell said, her voice steady and strong.

v

• 219 •

RADclY fFe

Sandy bit her lip to keep from crying out every time the heavy

vehicle hit a rough spot in the road. Her chest hurt and she couldn’t take

a deep breath without causing a sharp pain to shoot down her side. She

leaned against Darla, who steadied her with an arm around her waist.

The Russian next to her grunted what sounded like a curse as a

flashing red light shot through the back window. Sandy pushed herself

upright, despite the pain. The man sitting next to the driver turned

around, the craggy black and red shadows shifting across his face

making him look like Hellboy. Only not as hot.

“You do not talk,” he said.

The man next to Sandy drew an automatic from under his jacket

and placed it on the seat between his leg and Sandy’s, his hand on the

grip, his finger on the trigger. She glimpsed movement in the front seat

and realized both men had their weapons out. The road was almost

deserted, with only an occasional vehicle passing. The night was dark.

Perfect spot for an ambush. Oh my God, Dell, Sandy thought. Don’t be

a hero. Please, baby.

“We won’t be starting any conversations,” Sandy snorted. “We

don’t want nothing to do with the fucking cops.” Even though every

movement felt as if her chest were tearing apart, she shifted closer to

the man beside her, ignoring the gun on the seat, and leaned her head

against his upper arm. “I’m just sitting back here with my man and my

girlfriend. Fuck them if they don’t like it.”

“Good,” the man in the front said, facing forward again as the

strobing red light was replaced by a harsh white glare from the cruiser’s

spotlight.

Sandy tensed as the driver rolled down his window. God, please

don’t let them shoot anyone. Please.

“Good evening, sir,” Sandy heard a man say. Not Dell. Not Dell. It

didn’t sound like Watts, either. “You appear to have a short in your right

rear taillight. It keeps blinking on and off.”

“I will repair it right away,” the driver said.

“Are you sure your electrical system is okay?”

Sandy saw a shadow cross the driver’s face as the officer outside

the vehicle leaned down and looked in the window.

“Looks like you’ve got a full house here,” the state police officer

said. “You don’t want to break down out here this time of night. The

next service station is a good twenty miles away.” He nodded at Sandy.

• 220 •

Justice for All

“I don’t imagine the young ladies would enjoy sitting out here in the

cold for a few hours.”

“Everything looks fine,” the driver said, his tone friendly. He

gestured to the dashboard. “No warning lights. It must be a loose

connection. I will have it repaired immediately.”

“All right then. I’ll follow you for a few miles to make sure there’s

no problem.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Ladies.”

And then he was gone and Sandy could breathe again. The man

beside her relaxed infinitesimally, placing his gun back inside his jacket.

Sandy slumped, the effort of having held herself upright leaving her

sick and dizzy. Awash in sweat, she felt cold and shaky and a little bit

like she might throw up. Darla circled Sandy’s waist and gently eased

her down until her head was pillowed in Darla’s lap.

“Close your eyes, honey,” Darla said. “We’ll be home soon.”

Home. Sandy closed her eyes. She really wanted to be home. She

wanted Dell.

v

Rebecca’s phone rang and everyone in the car tensed. She found

the speaker button and held the phone up for Mitchell and Watts to hear.

“Frye.”

“Three men, just like you said. Two in front, one in the left rear.

Two young females—also in the rear—one Caucasian, one African-American. Both conscious. Looked okay as far as I could tell.”

“Did the men seem suspicious?”

“Let’s just say I’m glad I’m wearing Kevlar. They didn’t look

jumpy. They looked cool. Very cool. Professionals.”

“You can pull off their tail in another mile. They know you can

place them with those two girls. They’re not going to do anything that

might jog your memory.”

“I thought if I asked for IDs I’d be pushing it,” the Statie said.

“Agreed. They know you’ll have their plates. Better for them to

think it was a courtesy stop. Nice work. We owe you one.”

“Don’t worry.” He laughed. “We’ll collect.”

Frye disconnected and rested her phone in her lap. “That should give

Sandy and Darla a little bit of a safety net. Those guys won’t want their

bosses to know they were stopped, and they’re not going to want Sandy

• 221 •

RADclY fFe

and Darla’s pictures circulating around the law enforcement channels.”

She took a quick look at Mitchell. “Good thinking, Detective.”

Dell wasn’t convinced it was enough. What if the guys operated

so far off the grid they wouldn’t care if the state police were looking for

them? Maybe they’d dump Sandy and Darla’s bodies in the river and

take their chances. She just hadn’t been able to think of any other way

to force the men not to hurt the girls without the possibility of a gun

battle. But what if she’d been wrong? She was so agitated she thought

she might puke.

“We’ll be back in Center City in twenty minutes,” Rebecca said as

she punched in a series of numbers with her thumb. “Hey, it’s me.”

“Are you all right?” Catherine asked instantly.

“I’m fine.” Even though she spoke with calm confidence, Rebecca

knew Catherine wouldn’t really believe it until she saw her. “But we

might have a casualty. Sandy. Can you get dressed in case we need you

at the hospital?”

Dell concentrated on staying strong for Sandy through whatever

was coming, but she had to convince Sandy to quit risking her life for

Frye. She just had to, because she wouldn’t make it without Sandy.

v

Sandy heard the crunch of gravel as the Navigator slowed. She

opened her eyes and for a few seconds couldn’t remember where she

was. Then the pain returned. The light inside the SUV had turned gray,

the sickly pallor of a rainy winter morning. The driver slammed to a halt

and she rolled partially forward, swallowing a moan as Darla clutched

her to keep her from falling to the floor.

The rear door opened and the handsome Russian in the sunglasses

said, “Get out.”

“What about our money?” Sandy slid to the edge of the seat but

did not get out. She looked up at him as he stared down at her, his face

impassive. She held his gaze. Finally, he laughed shortly, reached into

his pocket, and came out with a folded wad of bills. He waved them in

the air before turning and walking a few yards away from the Navigator.

She followed him, motioning for Darla to wait nearby.

“Okay,” Sandy said, holding out her hand. “Give.”

• 222 •

Justice for All

With a thin smile, he leaned forward, cupped her right breast in his

huge hand, and squeezed as he slid the money inside her blouse.

“You’re lucky you and your girlfriend look good together,” he said.

“The client liked your little show.” He pulled on her breast, dragging

her closer, and she felt the ridge of his cock against her stomach. His

fingers closed around her nipple, twisting until it burned. “Next time,

don’t interfere. They pay to fuck you any way they want.”

“Next time,” Sandy said, trying not to gasp as her head swam.

“Tell them not to rough us up. Because no one will want to party with

you.”

“Who says?” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it around his

cock. It felt like he had an iron bar in his pants.

Sandy tilted her head back and smiled. “I do. And if you want

me to make that rocket blast off the next time I see you, it’s going to

cost you five bills.” She tightened her grip until she knew the pressure

bordered between pleasure and pain. For men like him, it was often the

same thing.

His voice came out tight, the corners of his mouth white with

strain. “What makes you think we’ll meet again?”

“Because I know what you want.” She twisted her wrist until his

breath grew shallow. “And you know it.”

He looked toward the car and lowered his voice. “Give me your

number.”

Sandy told him, squeezing one last time before she yanked her

hand out from under his. She wasn’t going to let him come for free.

She needed him to be thinking about how good it would feel when she

finally did him for real.

“We’ll want your girlfriend too.”

“So call me.” Sandy stepped back hoping he couldn’t see how

badly she was shaking.

He turned and strode to the Navigator, his back rigid. Gravel

spewed as the SUV careened out of the lot.

Sandy reached out for Darla, her legs suddenly numb. Distantly

she heard Darla call her name as she sank to her knees, then crumpled

to the ground. Pinpoints of pain shot into her cheek. Stones. But she

could move her head. She heard the roar of the engine again, but she

knew she couldn’t get up. No matter what they were going to do to

• 223 •

RADclY fFe

her, she couldn’t fight anymore. She tried to tell Darla to run, but she

couldn’t form the words.

A gentle hand slid behind her neck, a strong arm lifted beneath her

knees. Then she was cradled against a lean, firm chest. “Dell?”

“Right here, babe.”

“’Bout time.” Sandy closed her eyes and let herself drift. Safe

now.

• 224 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-TwO

I can walk,” Sandy said, sounding irritated.

“Well, that’s very good news.” Catherine ducked lower to

reach into the back of the car and brushed a few strands of blond hair

off Sandy’s cheek. She could only see the part of her face that wasn’t

cradled against Dell’s chest, but even in the poor light, she could see

that her mouth was swollen and a streak of blood trailed down her

neck. Anger welled within her and she struggled to find the calm that

Sandy needed. That Dell needed. “We have rules, you know, even if

they don’t always make sense. So rather than get me into trouble, why

don’t you just stay here a few more minutes and then let us give you a

ride inside.”

“Don’t fight it, babe.” Dell cradled Sandy in her arms. In the dim

light, Dell’s pale face looked bloodless, her eyes dark pits of fathomless

sorrow. Stroking Sandy’s back, she said, “You won’t win this one.”

“’Kay,” Sandy muttered.

Catherine smiled, nodded to Watts, who emerged out of the

passenger side like a dark behemoth out of the sea, and squeezed Dell’s

shoulder. “Just another minute.”

When she straightened and turned, she saw Rebecca emerging

from the emergency room pushing a stretcher. Her emotions warred

in the familiar battle between relief that Rebecca was unhurt and guilt

over her happiness, because someone else was injured. Sandy. God,

Sandy. Barely more than a child and already with a lifetime of pain, and

now possibly more. Why was life so unfair? She knew better than most

not to ask those questions, but sometimes in the dark hours of the night

when she was weary, she couldn’t help but ask herself.

• 225 •

RADclY fFe

She hurried forward. “Let me do that. Are you all right?”

Rebecca stopped the gurney with one hand and cupped Catherine’s

jaw with the other. She kissed her fleetingly. “I’m okay. This is a mess,

though.”

“We’ll take care of it. Can you see about getting her inside? I’ll

find Ali.” Catherine wanted to tell Rebecca to go inside and sit down.

She looked exhausted. But she knew that would be pointless. Rebecca

would not rest until Sandy was cared for, and probably not even then.

Whatever had happened tonight would demand her attention. They

would not, none of them, stand for one of their own being hurt this

way.

As Catherine hurried away, she heard Rebecca tell Watts to get

Darla’s statement. Darla, she assumed, was the frightened young

African-American she’d seen getting out of the car. She blinked as the

harsh lights assaulted her eyes, and she blamed the sudden tears on

that rather than the ache in her heart at the thought of yet more young

victims.

Dell couldn’t seem to move. She feared once Sandy was inside

the hospital she would lose her, even though rationally she knew that

wasn’t true. Still, how could she protect her if she let her go?

Rebecca leaned into the vehicle and held out her arms. “Give her

to me, Mitchell. It’s okay.”

“I can’t,” Dell whispered, sheltering Sandy in the curve of her

body.

“Yes, you can. You’ll be right beside her. You know I won’t let

anyone hurt her.” Rebecca slid her arms around Sandy’s shoulders and

under her knees, alongside Dell’s. “Trust me.”

Rebecca’s eyes held hers steadily, utterly sure, unwaveringly

strong. Dell eased her grip on Sandy, who murmured something she

couldn’t understand.

“What?” Dell asked hoarsely. “Babe?”

“Everything is all right, baby,” Sandy whispered. She opened her

eyes and tried to smile. “Stop stressing.”

Dell clamped her lower lip between her teeth so tightly she tasted

blood. Desperate to believe, she let Rebecca take Sandy from her and

settle her onto the stretcher. She felt dizzy as she climbed out of the car,

and grabbed the metal railing on the stretcher as much to steady herself

as to stay connected to Sandy. “Don’t worry. I’m solid.”

• 226 •

Justice for All

Sandy closed her eyes. “I know.”

Rebecca pulled the stretcher toward the double ER doors. A

willowy brunette nurse in navy blue scrubs and a stethoscope dancing

around her neck hurried outside and grasped the stretcher opposite

Rebecca.

“Dr. Rawlings said you had a patient for us. Trauma two is open.

Right down the hall on the left.”

“Thanks,” Rebecca said. The nurse smiled at her.

“You’re Dr. Rawlings’s detective.”

Rebecca smiled back. “I am.”

v

“This light might bother your eyes, honey. I’m sorry.” Ali flicked

her penlight quickly between Sandy’s left and right eyes, watching the

pupils constrict. “Everything looks good here.” She clipped the light to

the pocket of her scrub shirt and put her hands on her hips. “You didn’t

lose consciousness?”

“No.” Sandy glanced toward the end of the stretcher where Dell

stood, her hands still clenched around the metal railing. “I wasn’t out. I

know what that feels like.”

Ali shifted her gaze to Dell. “You might want to wait outside,

Dell.”

“No. I’m staying.”

“Go ahead, baby,” Sandy murmured. “This is just routine.”

“No.”

“Sandy, do you want Dr. Rawlings to come in?”

“No, just go ahead, Doc.”

Ali covered Sandy’s hand with hers. “Were you sexually

assaulted?”

“No one touched me.” Sandy’s eyes flickered to Dell again. “No

one.”“I only care about you being okay,” Dell said gruffly.

“You’re sure nothing else hurts?” Ali asked.

Sandy started to laugh, but then caught her breath when her ribs

screamed in protest. “That’s it.”

“Once we finish the x-rays, we’ll move you upstairs—”

“I want to go home,” Sandy said immediately.

• 227 •

RADclY fFe

Ali blew out an exasperated breath. “Now why doesn’t that

surprise me?”

“You should stay here, San, if that’s what the doctor wants,” Dell

said.

Sandy frowned. “Oh. Look who’s talking. Macho cop who doesn’t

want to stay in the hospital even after she’s been stabbed.”

“Ah, Jesus. Save me from the whole bunch of you.” Ali pointed

at Dell. “See that she stays in bed.” She fixed Sandy with a lethal stare.

“You take the medications I prescribe and get your butt back here if you

develop any problems. All of which I will write down for you.” She

started toward the curtain that enclosed the cubicle, then looked over

her shoulder. “And I really don’t want to see any of your team back here

again. I’m sick of you all.”

Sandy smiled as much as her swollen lip would allow her. “We all

love you too.”

“Yeah yeah,” Ali muttered as the curtain swung closed behind

her.

“How is she?” Rebecca asked as soon as she came through the

door.

“She’s stable, and all things considered, lucky.” Ali shook her

head. “Scrapes and contusions, probably several cracked ribs. Her face

is bruised, but the abrasion on her lip doesn’t require sutures. If she

weren’t eighteen, I’d say she’d be too sore to get out of bed for a few

days. But, knowing her, anything is possible.” Ali grinned ruefully.

“She wants to go home, and there’s nothing more we’re going to do

for her here. I’m inclined to let her go.” She glanced at Rebecca. “She

needs to stay off the streets for a few days. Until she can move enough

to protect herself.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Isn’t there some way you can get these pricks?” Ali gestured

toward the hall and the cubicles beyond. “These girls, the streets are

eating them alive.”

“If I could take her place in there right now, I would.”

“Hell. I know. I’m sorry.” Ali let out a weary breath and rubbed

her forehead. “I’m just tired. Tired of seeing them come in like this.”

She met Rebecca’s gaze. “So take care of it, will you?”

Rebecca smiled wryly. “I’m working on it.”

• 228 •

Justice for All

v

“Look, rookie,” Sandy said, “I know Rebecca wants you downstairs

with the rest of the team. So go.”

“They’re just finishing up reports and filling in Sloan and Jason.”

Dell hovered inside the door of the bedroom in Sloan and Michael’s

loft. “They don’t need me.”

“Neither do I. So just go do your job.” Sandy couldn’t find a

comfortable position to lie in. She usually slept on her stomach unless

she was with Dell, and then she slept with her leg over Dell’s and her

head on Dell’s shoulder. She wanted Dell in bed with her, but she didn’t

want Dell thinking she had to babysit her.

“I’ll get you some water in case you need to take some more

pills.”

“I don’t want any pills. I don’t want any water. I just want you to

take off.”

Dell shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans, staring at the

floor. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Oh Jesus.” Sandy stretched out her arm. “Come here.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just—”

“Now, Dell.”

Dell crossed the room in three big strides and knelt by the side

of the bed. She grasped Sandy’s hand in both of hers and lowered her

head until her forehead touched the back of Sandy’s hand. After a few

seconds, Sandy felt tears on her skin and her heart did the tighten and

roll thing that only Dell had ever made it do.

“Baby,” Sandy murmured. “Everything is all right, baby.”

“I was so freaking scared,” Dell whispered without looking up.

“I wasn’t. Because I knew you were there. I knew you would find

us. And you did.”

Dell’s head snapped up. “I fucked up. I left you here to go buy

Irina a fucking television.”

Sandy narrowed her eyes. “You bought her a television?”

“I figured she needed something to do. And the more time she

spends inside, the safer she is.”

“Yeah well, as long as it isn’t flowers. No flowers, right?”

Dell shook her head, grinning weakly.

• 229 •

RADclY fFe

Sandy stroked her face, brushing away the tears. “You know I still

would’ve gone out whether you were here or not.”

“I wouldn’t have let you go with those guys.”

Sandy sighed. “And what? We let Darla go by herself? She almost

got raped, Dell.”

“I’m going to fucking kill them.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to do exactly what Frye tells you

to do, because that’s who you are. That’s your job.” When Dell tried to

look away, Sandy grabbed her T-shirt and tugged her closer, ignoring

the pain that reared up in her chest. “Look at me. Look at me, rookie.”

Dell finally met her eyes.

“Promise me. Right now. Promise me you won’t do anything

crazy. You’re a cop, Dell. That’s important. It’s important to you. It’s

important to me.”

“Oh fuck,” Dell whispered. She started to shake and lowered her

head again.

“Baby?” Sandy asked gently.

Dell took several long, deep breaths, then raised her head and

smiled crookedly. “I’m okay. Long night, you know?”

Sandy laughed. “Yeah. I noticed.”

“So I was thinking, after I finish with the meeting downstairs, I

could maybe sleep in here. Grab some blankets and a pillow. You know,

sleep next to the bed so I wouldn’t bother—”

“When you’re done, you get in bed with me.” Sandy stroked Dell’s

arm. “I’ll sleep better if you’re here. You make me feel safe, baby.”

Dell swallowed hard. “Okay then. I won’t be long.” She leaned

over and kissed Sandy’s forehead. “I love you lots.”

“Same here. Go do your cop thing now, baby.” Sandy waited until

Dell left to try to get comfortable again. She moaned as a hot flash of

pain raced around her rib cage.

From the doorway, Michael said, “Can I get you anything?”

“There’s some pills on the table next to me,” Sandy said, trying

to breathe evenly so the pain wouldn’t get worse. “I think I might need

another one.”

“I’ll get some water and be right back.” A minute later Michael

returned. She opened the medication, removed a pill, and handed it

to Sandy. Then she sat on the side of the bed and gently slid her arm

• 230 •

Justice for All

behind Sandy’s shoulders, helping her to sit up so she could sip the

water. “I heard about what happened. How are you feeling?”

Sandy leaned against her. “Pretty crappy. Don’t tell Dell,

though.”

“I won’t.” Michael eased her back onto the pillows. “How are you

doing besides the pain?”

“It was scary there for a while.” Sandy held Michael’s hand. “But

I think I’m okay.”

“Good. If you need to talk, I’m here. Or Catherine.”

“They didn’t hurt me. I mean, not the way you’re worried

about.”

Michael sighed. “I don’t know what to be worried about first

anymore. Or who.” She stroked Sandy’s hair with her free hand. “So

just don’t frighten me like this again, okay?”

“Top of my list.”

“You should get some sleep.”

“Are you okay? You look pretty tired.”

Michael smiled a little. “I am tired. Good tired, though.”

Sandy grinned. “Oh. Sloan gave you a nice wake-up call.”

“No,” Michael said playfully. “I gave her a nice wake-up call.” She

rose carefully and tucked in the blankets around Sandy. “I understand

you’re supposed to stay in bed all day today. I’ll check on you later.”

“Hey,” Sandy called as Michael started toward the door. When

Michael looked back, Sandy said shyly, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. And remember, I’m here if you need

anything.”

Sandy closed her eyes. Dell would be back soon. And she was

among friends. She didn’t need anything else.

• 231 •

• 232 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-ThREE

Rebecca nodded to Mitchell, who came into the conference

room after everyone else, dressed in the same clothes she’d

worn the night before. She looked tired, but steady. “Grab a cup of

coffee, Detective.”

“I’m okay, Lieutenant.” Dell sank into the chair on the far side of

Watts. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Understood. How’s Sandy?”

“Crabby.”

“Doing all right, then,” Rebecca said with a flicker of a smile before

glancing down at her notes. “Okay. Last night confirms what we’ve

suspected all along. The Russians are part of a high-level prostitution

game, but they’re not likely to be the ones pulling the strings. They’re

doing a lot of the ground-level work—procuring and delivering the

girls. Providing security.” She looked at Jason, who was rapidly keying

data into the laptop in front of him. “You have those images for us

yet?”

“Coming…now.” Jason hit a few more keys and images appeared

on a screen built into the wall at the end of the conference room.

Rebecca squinted. The images were murky, the resolution poor.

“Can you clean those up at all?”

Jason raised a brow.

“Sorry,” Rebecca said dryly. “Foolish question.”

“Give me a minute,” Jason said, working away. “When I get these

into my other program I’ll be able to do better for you.”

“There—that’s good for now. Thanks.” Rebecca waited while the

entire series of images Sandy had taken flicked across the screen. “We

• 233 •

RADclY fFe

got three names from the license photos Sandy shot. Two businessmen

with strong ties to local government and a city comptroller. I recognize

at least one of the others. A state senator.”

Sloan said, “There’s no way men like that would do business

directly with the Russian mob.”

“No,” Rebecca said. “They wouldn’t. They would only trust

someone who moved in their circles. Someone they considered one of

them.”

“The Zamoras?” Watts said skeptically. “Why would these guys

trust them?”

“Not them, necessarily,” Rebecca said. “But Kratos. Remember,

he’s kept himself apart from the family business, at least on the surface.

The good brother. He’s just a businessman.”

“Yeah.” Watts pulled a face. “And I’m the next chief of detectives

too.”

“Sandy got us the kind of intel it might’ve taken us months to

get. These guys.” Rebecca waved a hand at the screen where Jason had

arranged the images in a series of headshots. “One of them will talk.”

“Maybe,” Sloan said. “If Clark doesn’t get to them first.”

“Clark doesn’t know we have this information. And for now, that’s

exactly the way it’s going to stay.”

“That’s not gonna win you points for interagency cooperation,

Loo,” Watts said. “Could put you in a tight spot, especially since the

brass told us to play nice with the feds.”

Rebecca rolled her shoulders, fighting a headache that had beat at

the back of her skull for the last two hours. “If anyone in the PPD thinks

this unit is going to lay down so Clark can fuck us over again, then they

haven’t been paying attention.”

Watts grinned. Sloan stared at the table, her expression remote.

“So what does that mean for Mitch’s part of the operation? Him

and Irina?” Watts asked. “Maybe Sandy got us everything we need.”

“Sandy only got us a piece,” Dell said before Rebecca could

answer. “Those pictures don’t tell us who’s putting the clients and the

Russians together. We need the connection, hopefully someone close to

Zamora, and Irina knows the men who know them. Those are the guys

we want. Irina can get me close to the key players. And then we can put

on some real pressure.”

• 234 •

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“I agree,” Rebecca said. “We’ve got verification of one piece of

the puzzle. But we need someone higher up than street-level soldiers

like the men who picked Sandy up last night.” She nodded at Dell. “We

still need Irina, and I imagine the Russians want her brought back in.

They know she’s alive. And they know how much she knows. I think

it will be safer and smarter if she initiates contact now. A show of good

faith on her part.”

“What if she can’t bring me in with her?” Dell glanced round the

table uncomfortably. “You said it yourself. She knows a lot. They could

decide she knows too much, especially since the house she lived in was

raided.”

“If it looks like she’s in trouble, we’ll pull her out and try to get

Sandy back in again. That’s probably a good idea anyhow. We know

these guys are interested in—”

Dell shot to her feet. “No!”

Watts coughed into his hand and muttered, “Sit down, kid.”

Rebecca stared down the length of the table at Mitchell, watching

the young detective struggle with her emotions. After a few seconds

she said to the room in general, “Would everyone take a break, please.

Except for Detective Mitchell.” After the door closed behind their

colleagues, she said, “You have an objection you would like to make,

Detective?”

Dell automatically stepped to attention. “Yes ma’am, I do. If I

might speak freely.”

“Go ahead.”

“Sandy’s hurt. They could have killed her last night. She’s not

trained to do this.”

“Do what, Detective?”

“Work undercover,” Dell shot back. “She doesn’t know how

to fight. She doesn’t carry a gun. She doesn’t have any goddamn

backup.”

“And you conclude from this?” Rebecca asked. “As a cop,

Mitchell, not as her lover.”

Dell sucked in a breath. “The risk of sending her back in again is

unacceptable.”

Rebecca scanned the faces of the men in the images splayed across

the wall, a silent gallery of users and abusers. She wondered fleetingly

• 235 •

RADclY fFe

what separated her from them, and if the shield of justice was after all

only a façade to hide the crimes of those sworn to uphold the law.

“I won’t argue, although I don’t completely agree.” Rebecca

spoke quietly, trying to separate the cop in her from the woman and the

friend. After a few seconds, she stopped trying because she could only

be who she was. “But I will point out this. Sandy is trained. More than

you for the work you’re doing with Irina.” When Dell started to protest,

Rebecca cut her off. “She has street training. Real-life experience. She

handled herself perfectly last night. Probably better than you would

have. Or me.”

Rebecca sighed. “She got into trouble not because of the situation,

but because she did what she would’ve done if she’d been in a bar

on Delaware or a street corner on Arch. She defended one of her

own. It had nothing to do with her being at that party because of this

investigation.”

“You’re saying it’s her fault,” Dell said flatly.

Rebecca shrugged. “Probably as much as it’s your fault you got

stabbed or my fault that I got shot. We do what we do because we can’t

do anything else. Neither can she.” Rebecca put her hands flat on the

table and leaned forward. “I guarantee you this, Mitchell. If we tell her

to stop, she’s going to laugh in our faces and go out there on her own.

And I for one would rather know where she is and what she’s doing.

I’d rather be sitting in a car on the street in front of that hotel than sixty

miles away.”

Dell looked down at the floor. When she spoke, her voice was low

and rough. “You know her better than I do. You’d probably be better

for her than me.”

“Well, that’s fucked-up logic on many levels.” Rebecca laughed.

“Forgetting Catherine, which is impossible, I don’t love Sandy the way

you do. Not with my last breath. So unless there’s something else you

want to say to me, I think we should let that topic rest.”

“Noted.”

“Look, Mitchell. It’s been a hard night. We’re all tired. And before

you and I decide what’s best for Sandy, we’d better check with her.”

Dell finally smiled. “Oh yeah. Not a bad idea.”

“That’s why I’m the lieutenant.” Rebecca walked around the

table and dropped her hand on Dell’s shoulder. “If she goes out again, I

promise you she’ll have backup. They didn’t check the girls last night.

• 236 •

Justice for All

They don’t think of these girls as a threat. That’s to our advantage.

We’ll wire her somehow.”

“Okay.” Dell colored. “I’m sorry for the outburst, Lieutenant.”

“Forget it. I’d have done the same.” Rebecca thumped Dell lightly

on the arm. “In fact, I have. Now let’s get the team back in here and

work out a plan to put these guys out of business.”

v

“Okay. Jason.” Rebecca pointed. “Your job is to ID the rest of the

clients. DMV, Armed Forces databases, newspaper archives. You know

the drill. They’re too high profile to be hidden. Run the SUV plates…

maybe we’ll get lucky there and turn a name that isn’t fake.”

“On it.” Jason closed his laptop, tucked it under his arm, and

headed out into the main office.

“Mitchell. Get some sleep. Then I want you to show Irina copies

of these photos. See if she can ID the Russians or any of the clients.”

“I’ll see her tonight,” Dell said.

“Right. Good.” Rebecca turned to Watts. “I’m going to pay Clark

a visit later. You stay close in case Mitchell needs backup. Mitchell…

Watts is your first call if you so much as go out for pizza with Irina.”

“Make sure you call me, kid.” Watts shrugged into his raincoat. “I

thought I’d check to see if we’ve turned up anything on the computer

forensics at the pier too.”

Rebecca grinned. “Do that.”

With the room emptying, Rebecca faced Sloan, who closed the

door behind Watts and leaned against it. She’d been wondering if this

moment would come. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”

Sloan hooked her thumb over the waistband of her jeans. “Hear

what?”

“Whatever it is you’ve been chewing on the last couple of days.

Trying to decide whether to handle it on your own or not.”

“What makes you think that?” Sloan held Rebecca’s gaze without

blinking, her eyes a cold, flat indigo. Storm clouds at sunset on a winter

night. When Rebecca said nothing Sloan grinned wryly. “Okay. You

know how we’ve been thinking Clark’s ultimate goal is to use us to turn

someone in Zamora’s organization?”

• 237 •

RADclY fFe

“SOP for the feds. They make most of their cases by squeezing

the guys they’re trying to put away until somebody cracks and makes a

deal. This time we’re the nutcracker.”

Sloan nodded. “So I think someone on the other side is looking

for the same thing.”

Everything in Rebecca went completely still. Fury ate at the edges

of her control. She would not tolerate an assault on her team. Not on the

streets. Not in secret. Not anywhere. “Who?”

“Me.”

“Michael?” Rebecca couldn’t think of any other threat that would

be powerful enough to tempt Sloan to cross a line. And she knew with

absolute certainty that Sloan had been considering it for the last two

days. The question was, what line. Rebecca could not imagine Sloan

betraying the team, which left only one option. “How did they get to

you?”

Sloan gestured to her laptop and pulled a jump drive from her

pocket. “Sit down. I’ll show you.”

Rebecca yanked out a chair at the conference table and Sloan slid

the laptop in front of her. Rebecca watched the images of Michael with

Kratos Zamora flash by, one after the other. “Son of a bitch.”

“Yes.” Sloan removed the jump drive and slipped it back into her

pocket.

“Have a seat.” When Sloan hesitated, Rebecca said, “Don’t fight

me on this, Sloan.”

Wordlessly, Sloan sat across from Rebecca.

“Have they approached you with an offer?”

“No.”

Rebecca frowned. “Then what the hell have you been trying to

work out for the last few days?”

Sloan shrugged. “Whether I was going to take out Zamora. And if

I did whether that would neutralize the threat.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake. Who else knows about this?”

“No one.”

“Michael?”

Sloan shook her head.

“Jesus.” Rebecca wanted to climb over the table and knock Sloan

on her ass. The problem was, she understood. And she also understood

that Sloan could not be contained by the ordinary rules of engagement.

• 238 •

Justice for All

She had not been trained that way and she didn’t have the temperament

for it. She was as close to rogue as a member of a team could be and still

be trustworthy. But Rebecca trusted her. She trusted her because Sloan

was sitting across from her right now telling her she’d been considering

her own brand of justice. “Can we prove who sent the pictures?”

“No, and we never will be able to. I can tell you where they came

from.” Sloan shrugged. “Well. Not just yet, but soon. But that doesn’t

prove who entered the data. And, unless an overt threat is made, they’re

just pictures. Michael was at a business meeting. Zamora moves in the

same circles. No crime in that.”

“But you think you can get a name.”

“I guarantee it.”

“I don’t want you to take a single breath between the time you

know the name and the time you call me with it. Are we clear?” Rebecca

watched Sloan’s eyes, because the answer would determine the future

of their team and their friendship.

Not a muscle flickered in Sloan’s face until she said, “Crystal,

Lieutenant.”

Rebecca shoved to her feet, suddenly very tired. “I’m going to

grab a few hours’ sleep. Then talk to Clark.”

“What are you going to tell him about this?”

“I’m not going to tell him anything. If he knew, he’d bury you so

deep you wouldn’t see daylight for a year.”

“He could try.”

“He could do it.” Rebecca stopped with her hand on the doorknob.

“I want you on this team. I need you on this team. And Michael needs

you with her. You’re not alone anymore, Sloan.” She opened the door,

then looked back. “And if anyone kicks your ass, it will be me.”

v

Michael stood by the windows and looked out at the river. Sloan

was somewhere behind her. The loft was dark, the only light coming

from the fireplace. The reddish glow reflected off the walls of glass as

if the world were on fire. For a few terrifying moments, Michael felt as

if her life was crumbling to ashes. She’d listened to what Sloan told her,

trying to take it in. She’d understood the facts, but she had no context

for the actions. She had no reference point in her life for such events.

• 239 •

RADclY fFe

She wasn’t frightened by what Sloan told her, but she was terrified by

the fact that Sloan had not told her until now.

“What did Rebecca say?”

Sloan stood a few feet away, afraid to cross the gap between them.

Michael’s hair shimmered like red gold, and her slender frame looked

fragile and so far away. Sloan’s chest constricted with the sudden fear

that Michael would somehow slip into the night and she would lose her.

“Something along the lines that I’m an ass. That if I didn’t do exactly

what she said she’d kick mine.”

Michael turned, hugging herself. “She’s right. On both counts.

Except she might have to get in line for the ass kicking part. Behind

me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough.” Michael crossed the few feet between them

and slapped her palm against Sloan’s chest. “You think so little of me

that you don’t trust me to handle a problem? How do you think that

makes me feel?”

“Michael, I—”

“Am I your partner, Sloan? Or just the woman who keeps your

bed warm?”

Sloan jerked back. “God, Michael! I love you. I love you with all

my heart. You’re the only thing in my life that really matters to me.”

Michael cupped Sloan’s face in both hands and kissed her softly

on the mouth. Then she drew back and stared into her eyes. “Then treat

me that way, Sloan. Not like I might break. Not like I might leave you

because I’m angry or because things are dangerous or difficult. Treat

me like I’m the woman you want to stand by your side. Forever.”

Sloan started to shake and looked away, but not before Michael

saw the glitter of tears on her cheeks. Her anger evaporated, replaced

by an enormous, aching need to take away her pain. “Oh, baby.” She

pulled Sloan into her arms and stroked the back of her head. “I love

you. I love you even when you’re an ass.”

“I’m sorry,” Sloan whispered, burying her face in Michael’s

neck.

“I know. And later,” Michael said, pulling Sloan’s T-shirt from her

jeans, “I’m going to want to know everything that Rebecca said.” She

slid her hands up Sloan’s back, then down the tight muscles on either

side of her spine. She kissed Sloan’s neck and dug her fingers into

• 240 •

Justice for All

Sloan’s tight butt, dragging Sloan against her body. “And everything

that you’re going to do about it.” She sucked Sloan’s earlobe, then bit

down until Sloan groaned. “But first, I want to go into the bedroom.”

She insinuated one hand between their bodies and cupped Sloan’s

crotch, squeezing the soft denim in her palm. “I want you to make love

to me.” She caught Sloan’s lower lip between her teeth and tugged, then

slipped her tongue into Sloan’s mouth. She toyed with Sloan’s tongue,

teasing and taunting until she was breathless and Sloan’s hands were on

her breasts, inflaming her. “What do you say, Sloan?”

“Yes,” Sloan gasped. “I say yes.”

v

“Why offer her Witsec when we can get what we need without it?”

Clark drained the glass of bourbon and gestured to the hotel bartender

for a refill.

Rebecca sipped her coffee, wondering if Clark actually had a

house or if he just moved from one hotel to another. She thought about

going home to Catherine that morning, of crawling into bed and having

Catherine join her. Falling asleep with Catherine’s arms around her, just

holding her. Just being there. For a fraction of a millisecond she almost

felt sorry for Clark. And then she thought about Irina and the other

girls who were nothing but pawns to him. Players on a game board.

She realized in that instant that appealing to his better instincts was

pointless. She knew how he saw the world. His was the righteous path,

and the end always justified any means. Collateral losses were simply

the cost of doing business.

“She has a picture of her sister, but she won’t give it up to us because

she doesn’t trust us. If we find the sister, we’ll have more leverage on

Irina and we’ll also have another girl on the inside.” Rebecca drank

more coffee but it tasted like acid as she said what she knew she needed

to say. “New identities and protection for both of them. The cost is

nothing compared to how big this will be if we make the case against

the Russians. And if we connect them to someone bigger.” Rebecca

shrugged. She didn’t need to tell Clark it was a career-making case.

“All right. I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll need to have her meet with the federal marshals to convince

her.” Rebecca pushed the coffee away. “She’s not your biggest fan.”

• 241 •

RADclY fFe

Clark snorted. “You’re breaking my heart.” He finished off his

bourbon. “I’ll set it up.”

“Thanks.” Rebecca walked out of the bar, the scent of bourbon

lingering in her consciousness. She opened her phone and punched in

a number. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes. Can you throw some things

in a bag—enough for overnight.”

“Where are we going?” Catherine asked.

“I don’t know. Somewhere not here. Just us.”

“That’s just what I need.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Rebecca closed the phone and took a deep breath

of the chill night air. “Me too.”

• 242 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-FOUR

Dell put the pizza box on the counter next to the six-pack of

beer she’d picked up at the corner deli. The television was

turned to a nature show. Irina sat cross-legged on the bed, barefoot in

black tights and a cobalt blue sweater. Without makeup and with her

dark, wavy hair loose around her shoulders, she looked much younger

than Dell had previously thought.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“Twenty-three.”

Dell slid a piece of cheese pizza on a paper plate and carried it to

Irina, then went back to get extra napkins and a piece for herself. Irina

shifted over on the mattress, which she’d covered with a floral print

sheet and lime green blanket, and Dell sat on the corner of the bed, her

booted feet stretched out in front of her.

“If you had called me, I would have cooked you something to

eat,” Irina said.

“You don’t need to do that. But thanks.” Dell took a bite of her

pizza as she framed her next question. The topic was sensitive and she

didn’t want Irina to close down. “Your sister’s younger, isn’t she?”

“She will be seventeen next month.” Irina crumpled the napkin

she was holding.

“Fuck,” Dell muttered, but before she could ask her next question

a hand slid along the inside of her thigh and Irina changed the subject.

“You aren’t dressed to go out tonight.”

“No.” Dell methodically chewed her pizza and ignored Irina’s

hand. Maybe if she didn’t make a big deal out of it, Irina wouldn’t

• 243 •

RADclY fFe

either. “My lieutenant thinks it’s a good idea for you to contact Olik,

though. Call him and tell him you feel safer now, as long as you have

Mitch, and you want to come back in.” Dell glanced at Irina. “It’s

important that I go with you. Olik isn’t going to hurt you with a witness

there, Irina.”

The assurance sounded more confident than realistic. Dell was

pretty sure Olik wouldn’t want a boyfriend hanging around, seeing too

much. He’d have to convince Olik he could be useful.

Irina’s fingers drifted higher, skimming Dell’s crotch. “If I bring

Mitch, Olik will be angry.”

“What will he do?” Dell covered Irina’s hand and placed it on the

bed between them.

“I don’t know. He will test us.”

Dell thought of the undercover narco detectives who were forced

to sample drugs during drug buys to prove they weren’t cops. Some of

them developed a taste for the product they were trying to eradicate.

She wasn’t exactly certain what Olik might want, but she couldn’t

worry about that. “That’s okay. We’ll be fine.”

“So you say, new boy,” Irina said softly.

Dell pulled the envelope from the inside pocket of her jacket and

showed Irina the images Jason had printed. “Do you know any of these

men?”

Frowning, Irina took the photos and sorted through them. Once or

twice she slowed and Dell noticed her hands trembling.

“What? You recognize someone?” Dell probed.

Irina’s mouth tightened. “I know the big man, Sergei. He is one

of Olik’s men.”

“What does he do, exactly?” Dell’s heart raced. This was the kind

of information they needed.

“He…” Irina hesitated, as if searching for words. “He makes sure

that the girls get to the parties or the movie set or wherever Olik wants

them to go. Then he stays to make sure no one bothers them. That the

girls behave. That the customers are satisfied.”

“He’s an enforcer—like the guy in the club the other night?”

Irina shook her head. “No. He is more like an officer. Not a

regular soldier.” She looked frustrated. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how

to explain.”

• 244 •

Justice for All

“No, I get it. He’s one of Olik’s lieutenants. How high up is

Olik?”

“I don’t know for sure.”

Dell thought for a second. “You’ve been to these parties. These

movie shoots. That Olik arranges, right?”

Irina nodded.

“Where? Where were they?”

“All over. Here. New York City. Washington, once.”

Dell wanted to shout. The Mid-Atlantic corridor. Moving women,

girls, between states for the purpose of prostitution was going to buy

someone a lot of years in federal prison. “That’s good. You’re doing

great.”

Irina smiled. “I made a mistake, believing men like Olik back in

Russia. I have been paying for that ever since.”

“You did what you had to do.” Dell squeezed Irina’s hand. “And

you’re doing the right thing now.”

“I will leave a message at Ziggie’s. Olik usually comes around on

Wednesday nights. To check on the girls. Collect money, I think. I’ll

say I want to meet him.”

“Okay,” Dell said. “Mitch and you. Ziggie’s. Wednesday night.”

v

“Rebecca, darling,” Catherine murmured, stroking Rebecca’s

face, “it’s time to get up.”

The night before they’d driven an hour outside the city to a small

bed and breakfast in the mountains. After an unhurried, intimate dinner,

they’d gone to bed early with a fire burning in the fireplace in their

room. Rebecca had fallen asleep in her arms, and Catherine hated to

wake her. She studied her lover’s face in the predawn light. The bruises

hadn’t completely faded yet and now smudges of fatigue were visible

beneath her eyes. If she had her wish, they would stay here for a week,

to heal in body and soul. But that was not to be.

“Rebecca,” Catherine whispered.

Usually, even when completely exhausted, Rebecca would

awaken at full alert, but not this morning. She murmured something

unintelligible and rolled closer, pressing her face to Catherine’s breast.

• 245 •

RADclY fFe

Catherine felt her nipples tighten and the familiar stirring in the pit of

her stomach, and even though she knew they needed to get up soon

if they were going to beat the rush-hour traffic back to the city, she

responded to an even greater need. Not for the sex, but for something

far more important. Sliding her fingers through the short thick hair at

the base of Rebecca’s neck, she cradled Rebecca’s head and guided her

nipple into Rebecca’s mouth. She gasped in surprise at the swift tug of

teeth against her already turgid flesh.

“You’re awake, you faker.”

Rebecca shifted her hips and pushed her leg between Catherine’s,

forcing her onto her back and following her over. “I wanted to see if

you were really worried about the traffic.”

“I think you have your answer,” Catherine said, knowing Rebecca

must feel the rush of wetness where her thigh was pressed to Catherine’s

center. “I do have appointments, though.”

“Don’t worry,” Rebecca murmured, kissing her way down

Catherine’s body. “I’ll use the siren.”

v

Six hours later, Catherine leaned back in her office chair and

closed her eyes, allowing herself a few minutes to relive the earlier

moments of pleasure. The sex had been wonderful, but what lingered

with her now was the unique feeling of connection to Rebecca that she

shared with no one else in her life. Between clients, she thought about

calling her just to hear her voice, but then she remembered that Rebecca

had said she would be in court that morning and unavailable. Because

the HPCU functioned outside the normal hierarchy of the department,

Catherine often forgot that Rebecca still had to perform the routine

duties of any other detective. The phone call would have to wait until

the afternoon.

Just as she reached for a stack of insurance forms, her secretary

rang.

“The special appointment you’re expecting has arrived,” Joyce

said with a hint of disapproval. She’d informed Catherine in no uncertain

terms earlier that morning that there was no time in her schedule to

squeeze in another patient. She’d been very unhappy when Catherine

told her she would work through her lunch hour.

• 246 •

Justice for All

“Thank you. Detective Mitchell is with her?”

“Yes.”

“Send them both in, please.”

“You have clinic at one,” Joyce said curtly.

“I know. Thank you.”

“Do you want me to get you a salad to take with you?” Joyce

asked in a conciliatory tone.

“That would be wonderful. You’re a dream.”

“I know.”

Catherine smiled to herself as she waited for Joyce to bring Dellon

and Irina back. When the door opened, she walked around her desk

to greet them. The beautiful young woman with Dellon was not what

she’d expected. In Catherine’s experience, criminals tended to be either

extremely guarded, hostile, or psychopathically charming. This woman

appeared to be confident and without subterfuge. Her gaze was clear

eyed and direct, and she regarded Catherine with a mixture of curiosity

and suspicion.

Adjusting her expectations for the interview, Catherine shook

hands with her as the introductions were made, then asked, “Do you

know why we asked you to come in to talk to me?”

Irina sat on the edge of the armchair as though poised to flee at the

first opportunity. “Mitch said if we talked, it might help the police.”

“Ordinarily, I don’t discuss with the police the things I talk about

with my clients,” Catherine said, settling back into the chair behind her

desk. “Are you comfortable with Mitch being here? Because you do

know Mitch is a police officer.”

Irina smiled. “I know who he is. He can hear what we say.”

“Detective Mitchell?” Catherine said. “If at any point Irina wishes

you to leave, I’ll ask you to do that and what we discuss after that time

will be confidential.”

“I understand, ma’am.”

“Before we talk about what’s happened to you since you arrived

here,” Catherine said, “I wonder if you could tell me a little bit about

your life before. Where you grew up. Detective Mitchell said you have

a sister. What about the rest of your family?”

“My sister is my only family,” Irina said. After a slight pause, she

told them in a dispassionate voice of the small Russian village where

she grew up. Of her father who died in an accident when she was too

• 247 •

RADclY fFe

young to remember him. Of her mother, uneducated and unskilled,

who had barely been able to provide for them. Of the men who offered

young girls a way out of poverty, a chance to realize their dreams in a

bright and shiny new world.

For the first time, her voice faltered and she looked down at her

hands. “I brought my sister here and now I cannot protect her.” Tears

glittered on her lashes and she turned to Mitch, reaching out a hand.

“Even if we find her, how can I get her away from these men?”

Dell clasped Irina’s hand. “There might be something we can do

about that. I didn’t tell you before, because it’s not totally set up yet, but

my lieutenant called me this morning. She’s arranging for you and your

sister to go into the witness protection plan. When we find her.”

“Protection?” Irina looked uncertain. “We will have to go away?”

“Yes.” Dell explained the plan, trying to make the legal process

sound more straightforward than it really was. “You’ll be sent

somewhere secret where you can start fresh. You’ll have people to help

you. And you’ll be safe.”

“What if we do not want this? To go away?”

“Irina,” Catherine said gently. “You don’t have to decide that right

now. You’ll be able to talk to the federal marshals who are in charge

of the program. Then you can decide. But Mitch and the other police

officers want to help you and your sister.”

“Not the man who put me in jail,” Irina said. “He does not want

to help me.”

“Ah,” Catherine said. “Forgive me. I was speaking of the officers

who work with Mitch. You can trust them.”

Irina threaded her fingers through the detective’s. “I trust Mitch.”

Catherine understood the message. Irina believed Mitch and

probably no one else. “Tell me about your sister.”

Irina picked up the purse she had placed by her feet. She rummaged

in it for a few seconds, then withdrew a photograph and handed it to

Catherine. “This is her. She was only thirteen in this picture.” She

smiled sadly. “She looks different now.”

“We can have our artist work with the image,” Dell said. “Change

it until it looks more like her now.”

“You will not need to,” Irina said. “You already have a better

picture of her.”

• 248 •

Justice for All

Dell frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“You showed it to me last night.”

v

“We finally got a bit of a break,” Rebecca told Sloan and Jason

when she arrived at the HPCU headquarters. “One of the girls Sandy

got a shot of at the party the other night is Irina’s sister.”

“Which one?” Jason said, pulling up the images.

“Give me the full-room shot.” Rebecca leaned down and pointed

to one of two girls flanking a distinguished-looking man in his sixties.

He was fondling one girl’s breasts while the other girl worked the

erection that jutted through his open fly. She pointed to the girl with her

hand on his penis. “That’s her.”

“And that’s the Most Reverend Joseph Thomas,” Jason announced.

“He’s that bishop who’s been getting all the press for wanting to root

out gay priests, even if they’re celibate.”

“Shit,” Rebecca muttered. If politics weren’t bad enough, now

she had a high-ranking cleric in the middle of her case. “This has the

makings of a real media nightmare.”

“You know,” Sloan said, “as soon as Clark gets wind of this,

that’s the guy he’s going to go after. The church will want the priest to

cooperate and turn state’s evidence. The other guys in this photo—they

might get fancy lawyers to keep their names out of the paper, protect

their interests. But with a priest, nothing has to be made public and

he’s still completely fucked if they ship him off to some backwater

parish. His political power and influence within the church will go up

in smoke.”

“And once Clark gets his witness,” Jason added, “he’s not going

to care about anything else. He might even convince the brass to pull

the plug on our end of things.”

“Which leaves us with nothing,” Rebecca said, thinking about

the men who would still be left to take advantage of girls like Sandy.

“Jason, print me out a copy of Bishop Thomas and his friends. I feel the

need for a little salvation coming on.”

v

• 249 •

RADclY fFe

Rebecca knocked on the door to Sandy’s room. “You decent?”

“No. Come on in.”

Laughing, Rebecca pushed the door open. Sandy, wearing a PPD

T-shirt, sat up in bed, the covers pooled around her waist. She had an

open magazine in her lap. The left side of her face was swollen and

when she tossed the magazine aside, she moved carefully.

“Mind a visitor for a few minutes?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you anyhow.” Sandy patted the space

beside her. “You can sit here. I’m too sore to jump your bones.”

There was no chair in the room, so Rebecca sat where Sandy

indicated and clasped her hands around her bent knee. “How are the

ribs?”

“They’re okay as long as I don’t move too fast or poke them.”

“I’m sorry about the other night.”

Sandy narrowed her eyes. “Why? You didn’t hit me.”

“You shouldn’t have been out without backup. Not on this

operation.” Rebecca shook her head. “We should have placed an

undercover cop with you. Someone from vice, maybe.”

“No way,” Sandy said dismissively. “You know these guys can

smell a cop in the next state. Plus, you’re not going to have anyone

young enough. These guys, they like them young. I’m surprised I made

the cut.”

“You look young, Sandy.” Rebecca took a deep breath. “I don’t

want you going out again.”

Sandy sat up straighter, then grimaced. “Fuck.”

Rebecca put her hand on Sandy’s arm. “Hey. Take it easy. I didn’t

come here to upset you.”

“Then stop acting like you get a say in my life.”

“I get a say in what you do for me. And I say—”

“Look, I feel like shit. I don’t want to fight with you, okay?” Sandy

covered Rebecca’s hand.

The contact was so out of character that Rebecca took a few

seconds to react. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up right now. I

just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I will be.” Sandy withdrew her hand. “But I’m glad you came by.

There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something I don’t want

you to tell Dell.”

• 250 •

Justice for All

“Sandy.” Rebecca shook her head. “She’s my officer. Hell. And

you’re my CI. I knew this was a bad idea.”

Sandy laughed and then caught herself, rubbing her side. “Just

listen. Okay? You think you can do that?”

“I’ll try, but it’s not my strong suit.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Sandy hitched up the oversized T-shirt that

had fallen down over her shoulder. “Here’s the deal.”

When she finished, Rebecca studied her for a long moment. Sandy

held her gaze, looking years older than her age.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I really am.”

“Okay then.”

Sandy’s eyes flashed. “You mean it?”

“Yes. I mean it.” Rebecca squeezed Sandy’s knee. “But you have

to deal with Mitchell. And soon.”

“Okay,” Sandy said with a sigh. “I will.”

• 251 •

• 252 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-FIvE

Alone in the office, Sloan stared at the screen. A lot more than

a minute had passed since she’d traced the IP address for

the computer where the images of Michael and Zamora had originated

and pulled up a name and address for the account. Frye expected her to

provide the details as soon as she was certain, preferably within sixty

seconds. Before she took action. That was the part Sloan struggled with,

because as soon as she turned over the information, what happened

next would be out of her hands. And Michael’s safety was at risk.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, trying to sort through

the labyrinth of choices, some of which would take her well outside the

law.

“What’s the matter?” Michael said from behind her.

“I’m pretty sure if I open my eyes,” Sloan said, not moving, “I’m

going to see the Sword of Damocles right above my head.”

“So if I’ve got this right,” Michael began to knead the bunched

muscles in Sloan’s shoulders, “you know something you’re not certain

you want to know. That’s not like you.”

“I know.” Sloan opened her eyes, swiveled her chair around, and

tugged Michael onto her lap. Kissing her neck, she said, “I think I’m

losing my edge.”

“No, you’re not. You’re finding a different edge.” Michael rested

her cheek against the top of Sloan’s head. “Tell me.”

Sloan hesitated. Involving Michael went against every instinct she

had. Her need for secrecy, her need to protect, her need to mete out

justice according to her own rules. She’d lived by those tenets all her

• 253 •

RADclY fFe

life, and the one time she’d broken her own rules, she’d paid with her

career and a huge piece of her heart. But all that had transpired before

Michael. And now everything had changed.

She took a breath, and before she could question where this new

path would take her, she said, “I know who sent the pictures of you and

Zamora. I’m supposed to tell Frye.” She looked at her watch. “Twenty-two minutes ago.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Why aren’t you asking me who it is?”

Michael caressed the side of Sloan’s neck. “Because I care about

you more than I care about them.”

“If I tell Rebecca, then what happens will be beyond my

control.”

“What do you want to do that Rebecca would stop you from

doing?” Michael asked as calmly as she could, but her heart was racing

and she felt slightly sick to her stomach. She didn’t fear what Sloan

was capable of, only what Sloan might suffer as a consequence of her

actions. She felt as if she were walking through a minefield, but she

would not be the victim of a misstep. Sloan would. Michael was certain

of only one thing. All that mattered was helping Sloan find her way to

a decision that would not destroy her. “Baby?”

“I want to pay her a visit.”

Michael stiffened. “Her?”

“Yes. The redhead you saw talking to me at the fund-raiser the other

night.” Sloan laughed shortly. “I guess that wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Apparently not,” Michael said coolly. “What kind of game do

you think she’s playing?”

“I imagine they’re hoping to buy my cooperation with a threat to

you.”

“So why would she reveal herself to you at all? Why not a phone

call? A message on your computer?” Michael walked a few paces away,

then spun around. “She might be in league with Zamora, or someone

like that. But she’s got her own agenda.” Michael pointed a finger at

Sloan. “And you are on the menu.”

Sloan’s eyebrows rose. “Me?”

“Darling, you are so clueless sometimes.” Michael walked back

and leaned down, gripping the chair arms on either side of Sloan’s body.

• 254 •

Justice for All

“I thought at one point the other night, when I noticed the two of you

together, that she was flirting with you, but I told myself it was just my

imagination. Obviously it wasn’t. She has designs on you.”

“Designs?” Sloan thought back to the business card and the phone

number. “She gave me her card. With her home number on it.”

“Did she?” Michael studied Sloan through narrowed eyes. “Does

that happen to you often? Women you’ve just met giving you their

number?”

“Not anymore.” Sloan held up her left hand, where she wore a

platinum band that matched the one on Michael’s finger. “But I knew

something was off, that’s why I kept it.”

Sloan lifted Michael’s arms away from the chair and kissed

her soundly as she stood up. Talia Ballenger had made a mistake by

revealing herself. She’d misjudged just how meaningless Sloan found

the attentions of any other woman except Michael.

“Not so fast.” Michael grabbed the back of Sloan’s shirt when she

would have hurried away. “What are you going to do?”

“Why, I’m going to call Rebecca, of course.” Sloan pulled Michael

close and kissed her once again. “What else?”

v

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Bishop Thomas,”

Rebecca said, taking the chair he indicated across from his desk.

The Most Reverend Joseph Thomas was even more distinguished

looking in person than the poor-resolution photograph had conveyed.

He wore a black suit and dark shirt with a clerical collar. His steel gray

hair was thick and expertly cut, his body fit, and his face tanned and

healthy. His blue eyes regarded her with speculation.

“How can I help you, Officer?”

“Lieutenant.” Rebecca crossed her legs and regarded him silently

for a moment, letting him look her over. She waited until his gaze

flicked away. “I wonder if you could account for your whereabouts

Saturday evening from, say, ten p.m. until three a.m.?”

“I can’t think why you would need to know that,” he said with

casual confidence.

“I imagine if you gave it a little time, you would.” Rebecca smiled.

• 255 •

RADclY fFe

“Since it was only a few days ago, I suspect you remember. So perhaps

you would just indulge me so that I won’t have to take up any more of

your time. I’m sure you’re busy.”

Bishop Thomas’s eyes became glacial. “Do I need to consult an

attorney, Lieutenant?”

“I don’t know.” Rebecca withdrew the photo from her inside

pocket. She’d had Jason print it on photo paper, highlighting the date

and time stamp. She slid it across the desk to him. “What do you

think?”

He looked at the photo for a long moment without picking it up.

Then he pushed it back to her, obviously knowing that other copies

existed and that keeping that one would not protect him. Rebecca was

impressed with his control. He was faced with potentially ruinous

exposure, and if they could find the girls in the photograph and prove

their ages, he could be prosecuted for rape and would undoubtedly go

to prison. Still, by all outward appearances, he was unruffled.

“The fact that you’re here and haven’t gone to my superiors or,” he

laughed humorlessly, “simply arrested me, tells me there’s something

that you want.”

“There are a lot of things that I want,” Rebecca said softly. “I

would be happy just to see you in prison, and if that’s all I can get out

of this, that will be enough.”

“But?” He steepled his fingers under his chin, as if waiting patiently

for her to confess so that he could absolve her of her sins.

For a few seconds, Rebecca wondered if he really believed he was

above the law. “Arresting you would make my day. But I’d rather make

my week or even a whole month. I want the men who organized this

little soirée.” She held up her hand before he could speak. “And you

know who they are. If you want to plead ignorance, you certainly may.

But then I’m going to walk you out of this building in handcuffs and

let the lawyers fight it out. And I guarantee you’ll spend time in a cell

while they do.”

The bishop nodded. “I don’t suppose you’d care that I have some

very important friends who might be unhappy if you did that.”

“Not a bit.”

“No, I didn’t think so. What do you want?”

“I want to know how it works. Who you call when you want…

What? A date?”

• 256 •

Justice for All

He winced. “A companion.”

Rebecca thought of the young girl with her hand on the man’s

penis, and the fact that he could sit across from her as if it hadn’t

happened. She had to struggle not to cuff him on the spot. “I want to

know who you call. Who gives instructions as to where to go. Who do

you pay? I want to know how it works.”

“And then?”

“And then I want you to request an evening’s companionship.”

v

“You’re overstepping on this, Lieutenant,” ADA Eva Dunbar

snapped when Rebecca laid out the plan for her.

After she’d left the Bishop Thomas, Rebecca had called the thirty-five-year-old African-American prosecutor and asked her to meet in a

coffee bar near City Hall. She’d chosen Dunbar because she’d worked

with her a few times before and knew she had a sense of the big picture.

Dunbar wasn’t about a quick and easy win if there was a bigger prize to

be had, even if there was some risk involved.

“If you’re not interested, I’m sure the feds will be.”

Eva Dunbar wore a deep red Armani suit with a thin black shell

and heels. She and Rebecca were nearly the same height, but Dunbar’s

body was fuller than Rebecca’s. When she leaned across the table, her

dark eyes sparked with irritation. “I’m not a rookie, Rebecca.”

“I know,” Rebecca said with a slight smile. “That’s why I picked

you.”“If you trusted the feds, you would’ve gone to them first.”

“You might be right.” Rebecca shrugged. “But I favor the home

team. So I thought you’d want a shot.”

“What I want,” Dunbar said, “is to make my own deals. What did

you promise him for his cooperation?”

“Not a thing. Only that his cooperation would be given serious

consideration.”

“I want to nail his ass to his own cross,” Dunbar said vehemently.

“Perhaps you could keep that sentiment to yourself until I get the

one I’m after.”

Dunbar leaned back in her seat. “You really think you’re going to

get Zamora?”

• 257 •

RADclY fFe

“I think I’m going to get someone high enough up the ladder to

give him to me.”

“Wouldn’t that be pretty.”

When Dunbar smiled, Rebecca had the sense of a powerful

predator savoring the coming kill. “So do we have a deal?”

“You’ll still owe me for not coming to me first with this.”

“Consider me in your debt.”

v

“Hey, babe,” Dell called, walking into the bedroom at Sloan and

Michael’s. “Your sexy cop is home.”

“Good. Because I want to shower and I need you to wash my

hair.”

Dell frowned. “Are you sure you feel up to it?”

“I’m sure if you don’t give me a hand, you’re going to be one dead

sexy cop.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m on it.” Dell kicked off her boots and shed her

shirt and jeans in record time. Naked, she walked to the bed and pulled

down the covers. Holding out her hand, she said, “Ready?”

Sandy surveyed her, taking her time, looking over Dell’s wiry

muscular frame, her small neat breasts, her tight ass. She licked her

lips. “Man, do I want a piece of you.”

Watching Sandy’s tongue skate across her soft, full lips, Dell got

hot all over and her clit went wild. “You just gave me a full-on hard-on,

babe.”

“Yeah?” Sandy smiled in satisfaction. “That’s nice.”

Dell groaned and ran the flat of her hand down her stomach,

brushing lightly through the crisp hair at the apex of her thighs. “It

would be except you’re in no shape to take care of it.”

“So?” Sandy patted the bed next to her. “You’ve got a hand. Get

your butt down here and kiss me while you do the job.”

“You sure?” Dell was already having trouble catching her breath.

“Move, rookie.” Sandy eased back on the pillows and turned onto

her good side. When Dell stretched out beside her, she skimmed her

fingers over Dell’s chest, lightly brushing her nipples. “Come here,

baby.”

Dell almost forgot about the pressure in her clit because Sandy’s

• 258 •

Justice for All

tongue teasing inside her mouth, playing over her lips, sucking and

nibbling, felt so good she got lost in the kissing. When Sandy scratched

her nails down the center of Dell’s belly, her clit jerked and she

remembered it in a big way. Dell groaned and cupped her crotch in the

palm of her hand.

“Need to come, baby?” Sandy whispered, flicking the tip of her

tongue rapidly over Dell’s.

“Yeah,” Dell gasped roughly. “You get me so hot.”

“Let me watch you jerk off.” Sandy covered Dell’s hand and

pushed her fingers down on her clit. “Keep your eyes open while you

do it.”

Sandy started kissing her again and Dell didn’t have to think about

the rest of it. She just stroked and squeezed, drifting in the blue of

Sandy’s eyes until the tension deep in her belly started to uncoil and

lick at the edges of her consciousness like flames flaring from embers.

“I’m gonna come, babe,” Dell murmured against Sandy’s mouth.

“You feel so good.”

“I love you, Dell,” Sandy said, sweeping her hand down Dell’s

back to massage her ass. “Oh yeah. That’s it, baby.”

Dell whimpered, clenching her ass as she pumped into Sandy’s

hand, coming in long, hard pulses while Sandy kissed her. Finally she

closed her eyes and let her head fall onto Sandy’s breast. “You kill

me.”

“Good.” Sandy slapped her butt. “Don’t fall asleep, rookie. I want

my shower.”

“Man, I can’t move.” Dell flopped over onto her back, grinning.

“It never feels that good when I do it by myself.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dog. Get up.”

Dell had a better idea. “I could, you know, make you come really

easy so you wouldn’t move too much.”

“Oh yeah? Since when.” Sandy eased her legs to the floor and

grabbed Dell’s arm to steady herself as she stood. “I’m horny, but I’d

rather wait until I don’t have to worry about breaking anything when I

come.” She looped her arm around Dell’s waist. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

“Okay, babe.” Dell led her into the adjoining bathroom. “Sit down

while I get the shower ready.” When the water felt warm enough, she

helped Sandy up and joined her in the shower. “Stand still. I’ll do

everything.”

• 259 •

RADclY fFe

“Deal.”

Dell squirted shampoo into her palm and lathered Sandy’s hair.

“Did everything go okay today?” Sandy asked.

“Yeah. Irina told us that you got a shot of her sister at that deal the

other night.” Dell cupped Sandy’s chin and looked into her eyes. “You

did a really good job, San.”

“About that,” Sandy said quietly.

“Look, I know you want to help. I get that. But—”

“I talked to Frye today, Dell.”

Dell tensed. “Yeah?”

Sandy punched her shoulder. “Don’t get all bristly right away.”

“You told her you want to go back out again.”

“Well, yeah,” Sandy said as if Dell were being dumb. “But I talked

to her about something else too.”

Dell frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna go to work for Michael.” Sandy cradled Dell’s

face and kissed her. “I’m going to be a cop.”

• 260 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-SIx

Sloan pulled her Harley Super Glide into an empty parking

space across from Talia Ballenger’s address on the Benjamin

Franklin Parkway. She swung her leg over the big machine, clipped

her helmet onto the back, and slid her hands into the pockets of her

black motorcycle jacket while she sauntered across the street. Casually

dodging the cars as she cut across six lanes of traffic streaming along

either side of the Parkway, she checked out the building, recognizing

it as one of the most exclusive in the city, gated and guarded, with a

waiting list that was more for form than function. No one got one of the

luxurious apartments unless someone died and willed it to them, or they

knew some very important people in very high places.

A security guard behind the desk in the lobby was dressed in an

elaborate uniform that was supposed to make him look like a doorman. It

didn’t. He regarded her as if she were lost. “May I help you, madam?”

Sloan smiled. “I’m here to see Ms. Ballenger. The penthouse,

right?”

“Are you expected?” he said with just a little more warmth.

Sloan tilted her head from side to side. “Expected. In a manner of

speaking. Yes.”

His brows knit as if he didn’t understand the language.

“Madam?”

Sighing, Sloan leaned her elbow on the ornate, carved wood

counter. “Call her up and tell her it’s Sloan.”

“Of course. She usually lets me know if she’s expecting a visitor,”

he said apologetically. Apparently, it wasn’t so unusual for Talia to

• 261 •

RADclY fFe

receive female visitors. Even ones who didn’t look like they belonged

in her social circle.

“I’m sure she’s been busy.”

His face flushed, but he said nothing. After pushing a number on

a portable phone, he muttered a few words, then set the handset down

briskly. Coming around the side of the counter, he removed a small key

from his belt. “Right this way, please.”

Sloan followed and waited while he keyed the private elevator.

“Hers is the only residence on the top floor. Have a nice evening.”

“Thanks. I’m planning on it.” As the doors slid closed, she saw

him flush once again.

The ride up was swift and silent, and when the doors glided open

she stepped out into a foyer as large and well appointed as some people’s

living rooms. Thick wool carpets, a crystal chandelier, paintings on three

walls above dark wood wainscoting, and a solid wood door worthy of

an English mansion. A buzzer was discreetly inset into the wide, carved

molding, but before Sloan had a chance to push it, the door opened.

“This is a nice surprise,” Talia said in a voice like warm honey.

She wore a dressing gown—not quite a robe, but not a dress, either. The

maroon silk dipped sharply into the cleavage between her obviously

unfettered breasts, and the belt tied loosely at her waist was more an

invitation to be opened than anything else. Her legs were bare below

the knee-length hem, her feet ensconced in backless sandals.

Sloan leaned her shoulder against the open door. “I assumed I was

invited. You did give me your card.”

“Yes, but my address wasn’t on it.” Talia stepped aside so Sloan

could enter. “I just opened a bottle of Romanée-Conti. Won’t you join

me.” “Not the ’78, I hope,” Sloan said, referencing one of the costliest

red Burgundy vintages ever produced by the fabled vineyard.

Talia smiled slowly and surveyed Sloan from head to toe. “Why

not? I’m sure you’re worth it.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me.” Sloan followed her through

the high-ceilinged living room, noting a dining room off to one side

beyond a set of double French doors, and a hallway that she presumed

led to the bedrooms.

They passed through an archway into a formal library where a fire

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Justice for All

burned in a marble fireplace. A laptop occupied the center of a huge

desk positioned in front of floor-to-ceiling windows with a million-dollar view of the city. Several books rested on an antique cigarette

table next to one of the chairs facing the fireplace. An open bottle of

wine and a single glass sat on a silver tray on a low table between the

two empty chairs.

“Please.” Talia gestured toward one of the chairs. She retrieved

another wineglass from a sideboard near the fireplace and poured two

glasses of wine. Handing one to Sloan, who had remained standing, she

said, “Let me take your jacket.”

Sloan placed the wine on the low table and shrugged out of her

jacket, aware that Talia was watching her intently. She wore a black

T-shirt with her jeans. She tossed the jacket on the floor next to her chair

and sat down, retrieving her wineglass. “No need to bother hanging it

up.”

Talia settled into the opposite chair, one leg tucked beneath her.

Her gown clung to her thighs, opening enough to show a triangle of

tanned flesh from her knee to the top of her leg. Sloan glanced down

briefly, then looked up into her eyes, waiting.

“How did you find me?” Talia asked, cradling the wineglass in

her palm.

“Phonebook?”

Talia laughed. “I don’t think so.” She sipped her wine and regarded

Sloan over the top of the glass. “Unlisted.”

“Of course.” Sloan grinned. “This is an excellent red.”

“A modern classic.” Talia leaned forward to replace her wineglass

on the table between them. The folds of her gown shimmered, affording

a tantalizing glimpse of the inner curve of her breast. When she settled

back, she ran her fingers casually from the base of her throat down the

center of her chest and back up again. “I believe it’s your move.”

Sloan positioned her wineglass next to Talia’s and bent down to

reach into the inner pocket of her jacket. She withdrew an envelope

and passed it wordlessly to Talia. Their fingers touched briefly as Talia

accepted it. Talia’s long, tapered fingers were warm and soft. The only

sound in the room as Talia looked through the prints, one after the other,

was the crackling of the wood in the fireplace. At length, she replaced

the photos in the envelope and handed it back.

• 263 •

RADclY fFe

“You’re better than I expected,” Talia said.

“You weren’t easy to track,” Sloan replied. “Cost me a few

sleepless nights.”

Talia smiled wryly. “I suppose that’s some comfort.” She gestured

toward the envelope that Sloan had dropped onto her jacket. “She’s

very beautiful.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Zamora is quite taken with her.”

“If he touches her, I’ll kill him.”

Talia regarded Sloan intently. “Is that why you came? So that I

could give him a message?”

“No. If he doesn’t already know that, he’s a fool. And I don’t think

he is.”

“Then why expose yourself to me?”

Sloan chuckled. “Have I? You already know who I am.” Her smile

disappeared and her voice dropped. “And you know what matters to

me. What else is there?”

“Yes, but now I know that you know who I am. So you’ve lost the

advantage.”

Sloan spread her legs, draped her arms over the sides of the antique

chair, and watched the fire eat away at the substance of the wood. “On

the surface it looks like a stalemate.” She glanced over at Talia. “But I

have one more move to make.”

“What would that be?” Talia refilled their wineglasses. “You can’t

prove I sent those images. I often have visitors. My computer is readily

accessible.”

“I doubt any of them have the skill to infiltrate a highly protected

computer network at Port Authority, intercept and reroute dozens of

shipping containers, and alter the security programs set to track them.”

Sloan was impressed with Talia’s nerves. Her expression didn’t waver.

She gave no sign of being shocked or anxious. “But you do. And given

time, I’ll be able to prove it.”

Talia crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. “An

ambitious undertaking.”

“Do you want to bet against me?”

The silence stretched for several minutes until Talia sighed. “No.

I don’t think so.”

Secretly, Sloan was relieved. Talia was good. Very good. And the

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Justice for All

odds were probably sixty-forty that Sloan would actually be able to

prove her complicity in the human trafficking operation at the port.

She had wagered that like her, Talia would bet the odds. And when

losing meant decades in a federal prison, a smart woman would not risk

coming up short.

“I should tell you,” Talia said, “that I am not in his employ. I’m a

freelancer. I don’t have any information of value.”

Sloan and Rebecca had discussed the merits of arresting Talia

and trying to force her into testifying against Kratos Zamora. They’d

agreed that the evidence supporting her involvement in anything illegal

was thin, and cyberevidence was often the least convincing to a jury

because they didn’t understand it. Any good attorney would know that

and advise Talia not to deal.

“I would imagine that your freelance enterprises must be very

interesting. I’d really like to get a look at them one of these days.”

Sloan spoke casually, but she knew that Talia would get the message.

Sloan had the skill to chase her through cyberspace for as long as she

wanted, monitoring her activities and making it very difficult for her to

do business. Eventually, Talia would slip up, and when she did, Sloan

would be there. She was not only a threat to Talia’s business, but her

freedom.

“While I think you’re terribly attractive,” Talia said, “and I admit

I had hoped we would have the opportunity to share some of our skills

privately, I’m not interested in a long-term relationship.”

“No promises if your name surfaces in the future,” Sloan said,

“but at the moment, neither am I.”

“Then what is it you want?”

“Nothing very complicated. I just want you to send your…

client…a report with a little something extra from me.”

“You understand that if he discovers I’ve compromised him, he’ll

kill me.”

“Fortunately for you, there are only a few of us good enough to

prove it.” Sloan grabbed her jacket and stood up. She removed a jump

drive from the front pocket and held it out to Talia. “I think you know

what to do with this.”

Talia rose and closed her fingers around Sloan’s. She stepped so

close their bodies touched. Skimming her palm over Sloan’s chest, she

said, “It’s not too late for that private conversation. After all, we’ve

• 265 •

RADclY fFe

already started, there’s still half a bottle of wine, and we both know it

would be good.”

Sloan extracted her fingers and dropped the jump drive into Talia’s

open palm. “You were quite a challenge, and I enjoyed the hunt. But

make no mistake. If any harm comes to Michael, I’ll come for you too.

And I’ll never stop.”

“I envy her,” Talia said.

Sloan shrugged into her jacket and started toward the door, Talia

beside her. “Thanks for the wine.”

“You’re welcome. I’m only sorry I couldn’t offer you more than

that.” Talia kissed her on the mouth, then opened the door. “Good

night.”

v

As soon as Sloan turned the corner, she saw Rebecca’s Corvette

parked across the street from their headquarters. She rolled into the

garage, parked, and rode the elevator to the third floor.

“That was fast,” Rebecca said. Rebecca was alone in the conference

room. “Should we have gone in wired?”

Sloan kicked out a chair and dropped into it. “No. She’s careful.

We wouldn’t have gotten anything.”

“Did we get something?”

“Nothing you want to know about.” Grinning, Sloan checked

her watch. By morning she expected to be walking around in Kratos

Zamora’s virtual office. She’d be able to see who he e-mailed, his

financial statements, his business plans, his real estate holdings, and

anything else he did with his computer. The cybertap didn’t precisely

fall under the investigative parameters the team was officially bound

by, but then the laws regarding cyberinvestigation were still murky. “To

be safe, we’ll need to corroborate anything we eventually want to bring

to court, but we’re finally getting ahead in this game.”

Rebecca nodded, thinking of Jeff and Jimmy, and the men who

had taken their fists to Sandy. “Work it.”

“That’s my plan.” Sloan started for the door, then turned back. “I,

uh…I want to thank you for trusting me on this. I know I screwed up

not telling you sooner.”

• 266 •

Justice for All

“Yeah, you did.” Rebecca rubbed both hands over her face. “But I

never doubted which side of the line you stood on.”

“Thanks.” Sloan shrugged. “I suppose you know you look like

shit. Maybe you should call it a night.”

“I’m going to. I just need to check in with Mitchell.”

“Okay then.” Sloan left her there, hoping she’d get some rest,

because she had a feeling things were going to move quickly now.

Upstairs, Michael was waiting on the sofa in the living room,

curled up in the corner, reading. Sloan pulled off her jacket, tossed it on

the adjoining chair, and kissed her.

“She gave you wine?” Michael grabbed Sloan’s arm and pulled

her down next to her.

“A very nice red Burgundy.”

Michael raised her eyebrows. “Friendly of her.”

“We parted on friendly terms.”

“You got what you needed?”

Sloan nodded. “Yes.”

“I gather she didn’t.”

Laughing, Sloan kissed her again. “You’d have to ask her, but I

don’t think so.”

“No need.” Michael cupped the back of Sloan’s neck and pulled

her closer. The lingering taste of wine and the heat of Sloan’s mouth

were intoxicating. “I’m just feeling a little territorial.”

“I’ve got a few hours before I need to get to work.”

Michael reached behind her and blindly dropped the book onto the

end table. “Then let’s not waste any time.”

v

Dell knocked on the open conference room door. “You want to see

me, Lieutenant?”

Rebecca was leaning back in her chair, her eyes closed. “Come on

in. Have a seat, Detective.” She straightened. “Any word from Irina?”

“Yes ma’am. I was on my way back from seeing her when you

called.” Dell pulled out the chair opposite Rebecca. “Olik left a message

at the club. He wants to see her Wednesday night.”

“She’s still at the apartment?”

• 267 •

RADclY fFe

“Yes. I’m going to meet her there and we’ll go over to Ziggie’s

together.”

“I don’t think we can risk wiring you. Not for the first meet with

Olik. He’s going to be suspicious.”

“I agree. But at least we’ll be at the club. That’s probably safer

than meeting him anywhere else.”

Rebecca nodded. “I’m going to put Jasmine inside again.”

Dell nodded. “Jasmine will need an escort. One of the Kings,

maybe.”

“How much do you trust them? I don’t want to bring them in on

the whole investigation, but they need to know there’s some risk.”

“I think they’ve got a pretty good idea what’s going on. I trust

them.” Dell considered the guys. “Phil has a bit of a thing for Irina.

He’d be willing to help.”

“We’ll have Jasmine talk to them.”

“Okay.” Dell hesitated. “Do we have anything from Bishop

Thomas yet?”

“He was instructed to put a message out that he wants in on the

next big party. We’re waiting for someone to contact him. Hopefully

Irina will get some idea as to when and where that will be in time for us

to set up the takedown. I want her to be there.”

“And Sandy?”

“We’ll play that as it comes.” Rebecca watched Dell, waiting.

“She told me what she wants to do. About applying to the academy.

That you’ll back her application.”

“She’s a natural. And she wants it.” Rebecca grinned. “She’s a lot

like you that way.”

“I just want you know,” Dell said as she stood, “that I’m glad she’s

got you to help her.”

“She’s got something she needs even more than that. She’s got

you, Mitchell. Don’t ever let her forget that.”

“No ma’am. I won’t.”

• 268 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-SEvEN

Darling, your brother is here,” Sofia Zamora said from the

doorway of Kratos’s den.

Kratos smiled at his wife and motioned her in as he placed the

report he was reading next to his coffee cup on the table where he was

enjoying a late breakfast. The small dining alcove adjacent to his den

overlooked the gardens in the rear of their home. “Tell him to come

back. And would you have Marianna bring in more coffee and food.”

“Of course.” She leaned down and kissed him. “You won’t forget

that we have tickets to the symphony on Friday.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He caught her hand and brushed his

lips over her knuckles. She smelled of roses, the delicate scent reminding

him of her deceptive strength. Her small-boned figure, luminous dark

eyes, and pale skin made her appear fragile, but he knew that, like the

rose, she was not only beautiful but also dangerous. She guarded her

territory—her family—as fiercely as he guarded his business. They

were well matched.

“And tell Jacqueline,” his wife said, referring to his private

secretary, “to schedule you for a haircut too.” She ran her fingers through

the hair just above his collar. “You’re looking a little uncivilized.”

He laughed and pulled out his PDA to send a message. “Done.”

“Thank you, darling.” Sofia skimmed his mouth with hers. “I’ll

see you tonight.”

Kratos watched her depart, feeling a pull in his groin. Even after

two children she was still striking, and he knew he was the envy of

other men. He had chosen well. He stretched out his legs, pleased with

• 269 •

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his life. Gregor entered followed by the maid, who pushed a cart laden

with more coffee and pastries. She arranged these on the table and

quickly left without making eye contact with either man.

“You’re up early,” Kratos said. Much of Gregor’s part of the

business involved meetings with men who spent their nights in bars

or private clubs and didn’t go to bed until after sunrise. Ordinarily, his

brother’s day began at three in the afternoon.

“I felt the need for confession this morning,” Gregor said, helping

himself to coffee.

“And now you feel closer to God?” Kratos laughed.

“God’s money, definitely.”

“I take it our religious friend enjoyed his evening out.”

“Not only the evening, but the company.” Gregor tilted back in his

chair with a smirk. “Apparently one of the girls twists his crank in just

the right direction. He wants her again.”

“How soon?”

“Whatever she did to him, he’s addicted. As soon as we can set

something up.”

Kratos frowned. The interruption in their supply lines from the

port, coupled with a lapse in security at one of the Russian safe houses,

had strained their escort business. If all their girls were out on private

calls, it was difficult to set up a group gathering quickly. “Will he

solo?”

“No. He thinks he’s more anonymous if he’s with the others.”

Gregor laughed. “Who knows. Maybe he’s secretly a homo, and he

gets off watching the other guys get their pipes cleaned.”

“Can we accommodate him?”

“We’ve got a couple other clients who are hot for an instant replay.

That makes it worth setting up something soon. Maybe the weekend.”

“What about the girl he wants?”

Gregor shrugged. “She’s one of the Russians. They can’t seem to

keep track of their merchandise. Hopefully they haven’t lost her.” He

finished his cheese Danish and brushed off his hands. “I’ll tell them

to bring the same group as the last time. A few others want the same

girls too. Jesus, you’d think when you were paying for it, all you’d care

about was the pussy, not who it belonged to.”

“These are discerning men,” Kratos said dryly.

“Yeah, right.” Gregor squeezed his crotch and shook his head.

• 270 •

Justice for All

“Set it up. Let me know if you have any problems.”

“I’ll put a call in to Olik.”

“Good.” Kratos checked his watch. “I’ve got a meeting with the

board in an hour. Anything else?”

“Yeah. The Russians are grumbling. They want to know when

they can start bringing girls in again. They’re running short in the clubs

too.”

Kratos lifted the report he’d been reading and smiled. “I got an

update this morning from Talia. She’s not only beautiful, she’s good.”

“Have you had a piece of that yet?”

Kratos had a quick flash of Talia’s smile as she denied him, and

his temper spiked along with his erection. Determined not to give

his brother the satisfaction of seeing his frustration, he ignored the

uncomfortable throbbing in his groin. He’d have her soon enough. He

could tell she was enjoying the game, but she was as ready as he was for

it to end. “She’s been able to hack into the HPCU databases. They’re

pulling back surveillance at the port.”

“Ha. Why?”

“Lack of manpower. And they couldn’t trace anything in the

computers.” Kratos smiled with satisfaction. “Security will be tightened

temporarily, but it shouldn’t take long to loosen up. It’s a big port and it

costs money to keep a big security force.”

“What can I tell the Russians about resuming business as usual?”

“Tell them soon.”

“What else do they have?” Gregor asked, indicating the papers

resting under Kratos’s hand.

“They’re focusing their investigation on the Russians, but thus far

they’ve only identified a few street-level numbers runners. Nothing in

our line of work.”

“Nothing to worry about, then.”

“No,” Kratos murmured, reaching down to adjust himself, letting

his hand linger for a few seconds on the turgid reminder of his own

power and prowess. “Nothing to worry about at all.”

v

Bishop Thomas opened the door to his study and motioned

Rebecca inside, checking up and down the hall as if to be certain they

• 271 •

RADclY fFe

were alone. Before the door had even closed behind her, he said sharply,

“I hope this is the last time.”

“Problem?” Rebecca reached for the credit card–sized recorder he

passed to her over his desk. The thin wires leading to a microphone the

size of a shirt button were barely visible to the naked eye.

“No.” He sat down behind his desk, his expression registering

distaste. “He has no reason to be suspicious.”

“Good.”

“I can’t carry that to the meeting.”

Rebecca smiled thinly. “Meeting. Is that what you call it?”

He clenched his jaw and didn’t answer.

“Why not? Do they search you?”

He looked affronted. “Of course not. We’re paying them to see

that we are protected. Just the same, it would be too easy for one of the

women to find it.”

“The girls, you mean. The underage girls providing you with

sexual services.” Rebecca remembered the pictures of the teenagers

servicing him. He should be behind bars, and in all likelihood, the

worst that would happen to him was that he would be transferred to

another prestigious diocese in another city. She wondered if letting

Talia Ballenger walk away was as difficult for Sloan as allowing this

man go practically unpunished was for her.

“You have no right to put my life at risk.”

Rebecca shot up so quickly he flinched back in his chair. She

leaned over his desk, her arms braced on either side of his expensive

leather blotter. “The minute you put your hands on one of those girls

you gave me the right to do whatever I want.”

“I’ve paid you back.”

“Not enough,” Rebecca whispered. “Not nearly enough.”

v

Rebecca placed the recorder in the center of the conference table.

“Jason, it’s all yours. Another link in the chain. I want a copy secured

off-site. Nothing about this goes into the central records system.”

“Our network is completely separate from anything at One Police

Plaza.” Sloan grinned. “And about a thousand times better.”

• 272 •

Justice for All

“I hope so,” Rebecca said.

Jason, seated next to Sloan, picked up the small device. “Have you

listened to it?”

“No. I didn’t trust myself not to ram it up his ass,” Rebecca said

tightly.

“What about Irina’s sister?” Mitchell asked. “Did he say anything

about her?”

“He was instructed to ask for the same girls as last time. He’s

smart enough to do as he’s told at this point.”

Watts grunted. “He’s not as smart as he thinks. We’re going to bust

him with the rest of those pervs, right, Loo?”

“We are.” Rebecca sighed. “But he’s probably going to get a walk

on most of the charges. And no official record of any of them. But his

superiors will be informed. That’s nonnegotiable.”

“It’s not right,” Mitchell muttered.

Rebecca swung around in her chair. “You’re right. It isn’t. But we

trade up, or we get nothing.”

“I know.” Mitchell stared at the table, a muscle quivering along

the edge of her jaw. “But it blows.”

Watts laughed. “You keep getting pissed off about pricks like this

getting a deal, kid. It’ll keep your edge.”

“Sloan?” Rebecca asked. “Something for me?”

“Zamora got the package from Talia. It’s going to take Jason and

me a few days to comb through his system, but he downloaded her

report with what she supposedly found in our records. And left a little

present behind.”

“So he thinks we’re getting nowhere at the port, correct?” Rebecca

confirmed.

“Yes. By the time they start up their operations again, we should

have traps in place to detect when they start manipulating the records

of the containers coming in and their positions on the docks. We’ll be

able to track them.”

“Even if Ballenger is behind it?”

“She won’t be,” Sloan said with certainty. “She’s too smart not to

know when she’s out of the game.”

“Won’t Zamora be suspicious if she pulls out?” Mitchell asked.

“As far as he’ll know, thanks to the disinformation we’re feeding

• 273 •

RADclY fFe

him,” Sloan said, “it’s safe to keep using the same system they had.”

She shrugged. “By the time they find out otherwise, I imagine she’ll be

long gone.”

“So,” Rebecca said, surveying the team. “We’re just waiting for

the last link in the chain. This tape ties Gregor to the girls, and when we

have him, we’ll get his brother.” Everyone looked at Mitchell. “Now

we need the Russians to make a clean sweep of all the garbage.”

“I guess I’m up tomorrow night,” Mitchell said.

“You’re ready.” Rebecca stood. “That’s it, then. Game’s on.”

• 274 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-EIghT

Sandy checked her makeup in the bathroom mirror. The bruise

along her jaw was still visible, but that wasn’t anything

unusual for girls in her line of work. Her lip was puffy, but it didn’t hurt

anymore. She cupped her breasts and jiggled them a little inside the

tight white lycra top to get as much bang out of her minimal cleavage

as she could. Then she shimmied into her miniskirt and pulled on knee-high white vinyl boots with three-inch heels.

“You look like such a whore,” she said to her reflection, laughing

as she gelled her hair into short blond spikes. For the first time in her

life she felt like she was wearing a costume and not her work clothes.

“Do you have any underwear on?” Mitch said from the doorway.

She spun around and looked him over. He wasn’t dressed in his

usual T-shirt and jeans tonight, but a tight-fitting black shirt with the

top two buttons open, black pants that hugged his thighs and stretched

across the bulge in his crotch, a slick black leather belt with a small

square silver buckle, and black shoes.

“Jesus, you look like a player.” She stared pointedly at his crotch.

“Are you wearing any underwear?”

“I asked you first.”

Sandy thought about teasing him a little, but she knew he was still

pissed off and they had serious work to do. “Yes. A thong. And no one

is going to get close enough to find out. What about you?”

“You can see for yourself later. How do your ribs feel?”

“Baby,” Sandy said, “I wouldn’t have volunteered if I wasn’t

ready.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed his ear. “Don’t be

mad.”

• 275 •

RADclY fFe

Mitch held her stiffly, his hands on her waist. “I know you don’t

answer to anyone but the lieutenant, but I still wish you’d said something

to me first.”

“You know what? You’re right. I should have.” She skimmed his

mouth with hers. “I wasn’t even sure she’d go for it. But I still should

have told you what I was thinking first.”

Mitch let out a sigh and rested his forehead against hers. “I know

it makes the most sense for you to go with Jasmine tonight. They know

you at Ziggie’s. I’m just worried.”

“I know. But we’re only going to be watching who’s coming in

and out. And keeping an eye on you and Irina.”

“You haven’t seen us together before, San.”

Sandy gripped his shoulders and leaned back, pressing her pelvis

into his. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her

stomach. She liked the way it felt. She imagined that Irina did too, and

even if she didn’t, she’d have to play like she did. “These guys are

killers, Mitch. You think I’m going to care if you have to feel her up

or she grabs your dick to prove to these guys that the two of you are

together?” She gave him a little bump with her hips. “I love you, and I

know you love me. End of story.”

Mitch grinned. “Just the same, I’d appreciate it—if you notice any

of the dick grabbing—if you’d look the other way.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t enjoy watching?”

“Ha ha.”

“Okay. Maybe that’s pushing it. Come on.” Sandy took his hand.

“The lieutenant wants to brief us, right?”

Mitch held her back. “Just trust me to do my job, okay? I know

you know what you’re doing, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sandy stroked his cheek. “Right back at you, rookie.”

v

“Are you ready?” Mitch asked Irina as he opened the back door

of Ziggie’s.

“Yes,” Irina said. “I’m tired of belonging to them.”

The hallway was dimly lit by a few low-wattage bulbs, and clouds

of cigarette smoke swirled indolently in the air. The atmosphere was

• 276 •

Justice for All

close and hot, smelling faintly of urine and liquor and sex. As they

neared the end of the tunnel-like passageway, the ever-present bump and

grind music grew louder. Two girls performed onstage, hip-thrusting

and pole-humping in a weary parody of ecstasy. Even at midweek, the

swivel stools at the bar were half full and most of the booths were

occupied. Sex for sale never went out of style.

“Have a good vacation?” the bartender asked snidely, eyeing Irina

as he swiped a dirty rag over the surface of the bar.

“Vodka shot and a beer,” Irina said, ignoring his remark.

“Olik’s looking for you,” he said, making no move to get the

drinks.

Mitch straddled a stool with his back to the bartender and Irina

snuggled in between his legs, leaning against the front of his body with

her arms loosely draped around his waist. Her expression was bored.

“I am here now.” She raised a brow. “Are you on vacation?”

He snorted and went off to get their drinks.

Irina ran her fingers through Mitch’s hair and scanned the bar. She

wore a wraparound emerald green blouse that left a generous expanse

of her full breasts bare and a tight black skirt that came to mid-thigh.

With her heels she was almost as tall as Mitch.

Mitch kissed her neck and murmured, “Any sign of our friends?”

She arched her back and thrust her breasts against his chest,

exposing more of her neck to his mouth. “Two men, Olik’s men…

bodyguards, at the end of the bar. He must be here somewhere.”

“What about the muscle we ran into the last time we were here?”

“I don’t see him.”

Mitch traced his tongue down the center of her throat. “Too bad.”

Irina laughed and tugged his head back with her fist in his hair.

“You are bad, new boy.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” Her eyes suddenly softened and the fingers in his hair slid

down to caress his neck, catching Mitch off guard. Then her haughty

expression returned. “Good boys bore me.”

The bartender delivered their drinks. Irina handed the beer to

Mitch, then picked up the shot of vodka and tossed it back.

Mitch checked out the rest of the room as he sipped the beer.

Jasmine and Sandy sat at a small round table not far from the stage. He

• 277 •

RADclY fFe

started in surprise when he noticed Phil with them. That hadn’t been

part of the plan, and he wondered if the King had arrived by himself.

Looking for Irina, maybe. Sandy laughed at something Phil said and

slid her chair closer to him, draping her arm around his neck. Phil

grabbed her and pulled her into his lap. Sandy didn’t even glance in

Mitch’s direction.

“So this is your new bodyguard,” a deep male voice said from

Mitch’s right.

Mitch automatically shifted Irina in his arms, moving her away

from the stranger who had walked up next to them. The man looked

to be about forty, with broad shoulders and an irregular scar bisecting

his left cheek that marred an otherwise coldly handsome face. His suit

was expensive looking, and the watch on his left wrist appeared to be

a Rolex. The tailored jacket nearly hid the weapon holstered on his

right hip. He was not a street-level enforcer. Mitch smiled inwardly in

satisfaction. Finally.

“Mitch takes good care of me,” Irina said suggestively, rubbing

his chest with her fingertips.

The man who must be Olik looked Mitch up and down, his gaze

lingering between Mitch’s legs. Then in a move so fast Mitch didn’t

have time to react, he shot his hand out and gripped Mitch’s cock.

Mitch sucked in a breath as pain bored into his pelvis from the pressure.

He summoned all his willpower and said casually, “I don’t want to

embarrass you in front of your men, so I suggest you let go.”

Olik started to laugh but stopped abruptly when Mitch flicked his

right hand and a switchblade dropped into his palm. Mitch thrust his

arm forward until the point of the six-inch blade was a millimeter from

Olik’s crotch. “Then again, I don’t really care if you lose face. Or…

anything else.”

With a growl, Olik released Mitch and stepped back out of knife

range. “You have balls after all.”

Irina laughed and caressed Mitch’s stomach, then let her fingers

drift over the swell of his cock. “He has everything he needs.”

“Come in the back.”

v

• 278 •

Justice for All

Sandy tensed when she saw the big man crowd Mitch, frustrated

that she couldn’t make out what was happening. The two men who’d

been standing at the far end of the bar started toward Mitch and Irina.

Three on one. She didn’t like it. Irina seemed to be taunting the guy,

fondling Mitch with a self-satisfied look on her face. Sandy hoped to

hell she knew what she was doing, because if she got Mitch hurt, Sandy

was going to send her back to Russia personally.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Sandy said abruptly, climbing off

Phil’s lap. She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed a closer look.

“Oh, wait for me, honey.” Jasmine gripped her arm. “But I want

to finish my drink first.”

When Sandy started to protest, she caught the look in Jasmine’s

eyes and checked the bar again. The big man had backed off, and Mitch

and Irina were following him down the hall. The other two men were

close behind them. Reluctantly, she settled back into Phil’s lap. For

now, all she could do was wait.

Phil circled her waist to steady her, but kept his hands to himself.

“You and Mitch,” he said, his voice pitched low. “You’re not really

done, are you?”

“You see me with him?” Sandy shot back.

“Nope.” Phil grinned. “So does that mean you’re going to give me

a chance?”

Sandy patted Phil’s chest. “I don’t know, baby. I think you might

be too much guy for me.”

He laughed. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. So, if you need

anything.” He tilted his head slightly in the direction Mitch and Irina

had disappeared. “Say the word.”

“Thanks, but we’re cool.” Sandy just hoped she wasn’t lying.

v

Olik’s office was a converted storage room, with a plain desk,

two file cabinets, a couple of straight-backed chairs, and an upholstered

sofa that held the impression of a decade of asses pressed into the

faded cushions. One of the two guards who’d followed them down the

hallway stepped inside and closed the door. The other was probably

outside in the hall making sure they weren’t disturbed. Olik rested his

hips against the front of the desk and gestured to the sofa.

• 279 •

RADclY fFe

“Sit down.”

Mitch preferred to stay standing because he could fight better from

that position, but he didn’t want to get into anything with Irina in the

room, so he let her tug him down beside her on the sofa. Spreading his

legs, he leaned back and stretched one arm along the back. He slung the

other around Irina’s shoulders, pulling her close against his side. She

crossed her legs, causing her skirt to ride up and expose a lot of creamy

thigh. When she dropped her left hand casually onto the inside of his

right leg, Olik’s gaze followed her hand.

“The girls are getting out of hand. I want you to stay with them,”

he said gruffly.

“Until the police come for us like last time?” Irina scoffed. “I will

stay where I am safe.”

“You will stay where you are told.”

“She stays with me,” Mitch said softly.

“This is not your affair, boy.”

“Irina is my business.”

Olik gripped the desk on either side of his hips, his smile

condescending. The outline of an erection was prominent beneath the

expensive material of his trousers. “Maybe you should show me what

you’ve got that Irina likes so much.”

“That’s private,” Mitch said.

“Irina,” Olik said, his voice low and dangerous. He drew back the

edge of his jacket, exposing the automatic on his hip. “Explain to your

boy who’s in charge.”

“It’s all right, Mitch,” Irina whispered. “I know what he wants.”

Before Mitch could protest, Irina shifted until she straddled his

thighs, her skirt pulled tight across the junction of her pelvis. He gripped

her hips automatically.

“Irina, what—”

Then Irina’s hands were in his hair and her tongue was in his mouth,

and she was kissing him feverishly. For a second, he was too stunned to

do anything but hold on to her while she rocked on his cock. He finally

pulled out of the kiss and stared into her eyes. She was breathing fast

and her lids drooped heavily.

“It’s all right,” she murmured again, sliding a hand down to his

belt buckle. “I don’t care if he sees.”

She wasn’t acting. She wanted him to fuck her. And suddenly

• 280 •

Justice for All

Mitch wasn’t thinking about Sandy, or the job, or Olik, or what was

right or what was wrong. He was thinking about Irina, a woman he

cared for. He could feel her heat through his pants. He looked down and

saw the ridge of his cock nestled between her thighs. Irina tugged at his

belt. Oh fuck, she really was going to take him inside her, right here.

“Irina.” Mitch brushed his thumb across her full lower lip, then

cradled her hips in his palms. He tensed his thighs and lifted her off his

body, rising to his feet all in one motion. He stared at Olik. “I know how

to treat a woman right. That’s why she prefers me.”

Olik flicked his hand at the muscle by the door. “Show this boy

how we treat disobedient dogs in our country.”

The guy was twice Mitch’s size, but Mitch had fought big men

before. The cadets at West Point only came in two sizes. Big and bigger.

With men like this, there was no choice but to hit hard and hit fast. He

wouldn’t get a second chance. With a leering smile, the Russian threw

a looping haymaker and Mitch did exactly the opposite of what the

guy expected. He stepped forward to the inside of the punch, blocked

the big man’s forearm with his own, and rabbit punched him with a

straight hard shot to the larynx. The Russian’s eyes bulged, he grabbed

his throat with both hands, and sank to his knees. With a wet gurgling

moan, he collapsed onto the dirty gray carpet.

Mitch sidestepped as he toppled. “His larynx is fractured. He’ll

drown on his own blood if someone doesn’t take him to the hospital.”

The man thrashed on the floor and the front of his pants turned dark

as he urinated. Olik cursed in Russian and strode to the door, yanking it

open so hard it ricocheted off the wall. He snapped out something else

in Russian and the man in the hall rushed in, grabbed the prone man

under the arms, and dragged him out. Olik kicked the door closed and

spun around.

Mitch braced for the next round. Irina appeared beside him and

put her arm around his waist. Olik stopped a few feet away, his face

stony.

“The girls would feel safer with Mitch on security,” Irina said.

“He’s good and he’s not going to try to fuck them.”

“You’ll supervise them. Go with them on their jobs? Make sure

they behave?” Olik asked.

“Da,” Irina said.

Olik regarded Mitch. “You provide security when they travel.”

• 281 •

RADclY fFe

Trying to appear nonchalant although his heart was pounding,

Mitch said, “When Irina’s not working, she stays with me.”

Olik nodded.

“Okay then,” Mitch said. “When do we start?”

• 282 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-NINE

Mitch keyed in the security code so he could park his Ducati

inside Sloan’s building. When he turned around, Sandy

stepped out of the alcove at the top of the stairs and headed his way.

“What are you doing out here alone?” Mitch asked. “It’s the

middle of the night and it’s freezing.”

“I was hoping I’d get lucky.” Sandy linked her arm through his.

“And I guess I did.” She tugged him into the shadows and kissed him.

“Everybody’s here—upstairs rehashing tonight. I wanted to see you

alone first.”

Mitch rolled the bike in next to Sloan’s Harley on the other side

of the Porsche and closed the overhead doors. Then he unzipped his

jacket and leaned back against his bike. Sandy took off her jacket and

dropped it over the handlebars. When she kissed him again she tasted

a little like liquor and smelled like fresh snow. Her skin was cold and

her mouth was hot. Mitch tightened his grip and buried his face in the

curve of her neck.

Sandy stroked his hair. “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah.” He spoke without looking up. Olik had seemed satisfied

with the agreement Irina had made to supervise the girls, but Mitch had

taken Irina back to the apartment and waited for an hour to be sure she

wouldn’t have any unwanted company. They didn’t talk about what had

happened in the back room of Ziggie’s. They’d both done what they’d

had to do.

“Irina handle things?”

“She did fine.”

• 283 •

RADclY fFe

“Was there trouble?” Sandy asked.

“Some. Olik needed a little convincing that Irina and I were a

package deal.” Mitch flexed his right hand and noticed for the first time

that his knuckles were sore. Sandy caught the motion and grasped his

wrist, drawing his hand up to the light.

“You broke some skin over your knuckles. Got any bruises

anywhere else?” Sandy asked casually. She didn’t want to fuss over

him because she knew he needed to believe she had total faith in him.

Her fears were hers to deal with, not to lay on him.

“He never touched me,” Mitch said without much satisfaction.

He’d thought he would feel better about taking one of these guys out,

but he didn’t really. He’d realized as he watched the Russian flail on

the floor, choking to death, that all he wanted was to put the guy behind

bars. He didn’t need to deliver the punishment himself. “I hurt him

pretty bad.”

“Did he come after you?”

“Yeah.”

Sandy framed Mitch’s face so she could look into his eyes. “Then

you did what you needed to do. Don’t feel bad.”

Mitch smiled wryly. “I don’t. Not really.” He brushed his fingertips

through the soft, short hair at her temple. “I saw you had a new boyfriend

tonight.”

“Phil?” Sandy laughed. “He is so all talk.”

“Glad to hear that.” Mitch’s smile disappeared. “You okay about

everything?”

“Don’t talk in code, rookie.” Sandy poked his chest. “You mean

am I having a fit about Irina—who happens to be very hot in the flesh,

by the way—having her hands all over you?”

Mitch nodded.

“If I said I didn’t mind, you’d know I was lying. But I’m not having

a fit either.” She leaned into him, her thighs against his thighs, her belly

tight against his crotch. “When I was still working, you never told me

not to. You made love to me when you thought I was still hooking. You

loved me even when you thought I was giving my body away.”

“Sandy,” Mitch whispered.

Sandy pressed her fingers to his mouth. “If you keep doing what

you’re doing, and I guess you’re going to since Frye thinks you’re so

good at it, you might have to do more than kiss a girl’s neck some night.

• 284 •

Justice for All

Whether I see it, or I don’t, it’s about work. I don’t need to know the

details.”

“Just so you know, it won’t happen unless there’s no other way.

And…” Mitch sighed. “It won’t mean anything to me.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Sandy ran her hands down his arms,

then rubbed her palms over his chest inside his jacket. “You’re pretty

tight.”

Mitch shook his head. “Maybe a little. How about we check

in with the lieutenant and then you can find out if I’m wearing any

underwear.”

“I don’t want to be distracted in front of Frye,” Sandy whispered

against Mitch’s mouth while she worked the zipper down on his fly.

Mitch stiffened as she slid her hand inside his briefs and gripped his

cock. “One question answered.”

“That’s as far as you better go,” Mitch said thickly. “Because we

don’t have time for the rest.”

“Five minutes?”

Mitch laughed. “You know how to straighten out my head when

I’m twisted around. No one else ever has.”

Sandy licked his neck. “I know how to straighten something out.

Got a safe in your wallet?”

“You know I do. But I’m still not going to fuck you right now.” He

gripped her hips and backed her off a few inches, then looked down at

her hand inside his pants. “Jesus. You make me hot.”

“That’s more like it.” She kissed him lightly on the mouth,

rearranged his clothes, and zipped his fly. “Now, let’s go to work.”

v

“Jesus Christ, Frye,” Clark barked as he held his hotel room door

open a few inches. He wore boxers and a white T-shirt, and he needed

a shave. “It’s five o’clock in the morning.”

“Five twenty,” Rebecca replied. “We need to talk.”

“I’ll be in the office by nine.”

When Clark tried to close the door, Rebecca wedged her foot in

the opening. “This can’t wait.”

Clark looked back into the darkened room. “I’ll meet you

downstairs in the coffee bar in fifteen minutes.”

• 285 •

RADclY fFe

“Fine.” Rebecca strolled back to the elevator, pleased that she had

derailed his plans for morning wake-up sex. Since she hadn’t been to

bed yet, she figured that was an even trade. She ordered coffee and

settled into a booth at the back of the nearly empty restaurant.

Twenty minutes later, Clark slid in opposite her. His hair was wet,

his eyes bloodshot, and his rigid posture indicated he was not a happy

man.

“Coffee,” he snapped before the waitress had even reached their

booth. She promptly spun around and disappeared. “What?”

“I’m getting warrants for Gregor Zamora, a priest, and half a

dozen members of the Russian mob. When we make the sweep, we’re

going to pick up some high-profile public figures too.” Rebecca smiled

when Clark’s eyes popped.

“Why am I just hearing this now?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“I’ll talk to the U.S. attorney. My people should make the

arrests.”

Rebecca shook her head. “You can have Zamora. You’ll get him

one way or the other. But the rest are mine.” She pushed the coffee cup

to one side. “The district attorney’s office has already been informed.”

“This isn’t what we would call cooperation, Lieutenant.”

“Sue me.”

“What about the brother?” Clark asked.

“He’s smart—doesn’t get his hands dirty. But there’s dirt on him

just the same. Squeeze Gregor—you guys are good at that. Maybe he’ll

roll.”

“Maybe isn’t good enough.”

“It’s a lot more than you could have gotten on your own.” Rebecca

stood up. “We did all the work, and you’ll get your chance to flip

someone all the way at the top of the food chain. I’ll let you know when

we’re ready to move, and you can send your agents for Zamora. Then

we’re done, Clark. All done.”

“We’ll see about that,” he called after her.

Rebecca didn’t bother to answer.

v

• 286 •

Justice for All

Catherine met Rebecca at the front door and held out her hand for

Rebecca’s blazer. “You really need to wear an overcoat, darling.”

“You know,” Rebecca said, “that’s exactly what I need to hear

right now.”

“Something ridiculously domestic?” Catherine hung the jacket in

the closet, hooked her thumbs under the leather straps of Rebecca’s

holster, and lifted it off. “That sounds hopelessly unromantic.”

Rebecca carried her weapon in one hand and circled Catherine’s

waist as they started toward the bedroom. “Believe me, it isn’t. It’s

exactly what I need to come home to.” She slowed just inside the

bedroom. “I don’t suppose you could come back to bed for a while.”

“Only if you promise to go right to sleep.”

“I promised you once I’d never lie to you,” Rebecca murmured,

drawing Catherine to the side of the bed. She unbuttoned her shirt

and pulled it her from her trousers. “But despite my best intentions, I

probably will fall asleep on you.”

“That’s all right. I like holding you while you’re sleeping.”

Catherine worked Rebecca’s belt loose from her trousers. “How did it

go with the operation?”

“Mitchell’s inside and we’re close to the endgame,” Rebecca said,

shedding the rest of her clothes and climbing under the covers. The bed

still held Catherine’s warmth, and she felt as if she were slipping into a

sanctuary. Catherine lay down beside her, and Rebecca settled into her

arms with a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

“You’re here now.” Catherine kissed her. “Everything is all right

with Mitch and Irina?”

“They made some heads-up plays tonight,” Rebecca mumbled.

“Why?”

“Irina is necessarily very dependent on him. He’s her only chance

for safety, and for having her sister returned to her. He’s her lifeline.”

“Meaning she’s likely to get attached.”

“Yes.”

“Mitchell can handle it.” Rebecca laughed quietly. “Mitchell’s in

for an interesting time. Sandy wants to be a cop.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Catherine said. “Do you approve?”

“Not for me to say. But, yeah. I do. She’s got guts. And street

smarts. And she’ll understand what needs to be done in ways the rest

of us never will.”

• 287 •

RADclY fFe

“And you’ll take care of her, won’t you,” Catherine said softly.

“You mind?”

Catherine kissed Rebecca’s forehead. “No, darling. I don’t

mind.”

“We know when the Russians are delivering girls to the next

private party set up by the Zamoras. Mitch and Irina will be working

the inside. We’re going to hit them then.”

“All I ask is that you don’t take the door. You’re not ready for

that.”

“Okay. I need to be there, but I’ll let Watts take the lead. We’ll

have uniform backup for this too.” Rebecca kissed Catherine’s breast.

“Don’t worry. There’s not going to be trouble.”

“All right then.” Catherine stroked Rebecca’s face. “I still want

to know when it’s happening. Now, close your eyes. For the next few

hours, you’re just mine.”

• 288 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER ThIRTy

Mitch zipped his jacket and lingered by the bedroom door,

watching Sandy pull on a fake fur coat that hit right in the

middle of her pert, round ass, about three inches above the bottom of

her skirt. Even though she was shorter than him, her legs looked like

they went on forever, slender and shapely, her toned calves tightening

with each step she took in her mile-high heels.

“I wish you’d wear shoes you could run in,” he grumbled.

Sandy shot him a look. “Like no one would notice if I showed up

in sneakers.”

If he had his way, she wouldn’t show up anywhere at all, but the

lieutenant had called the shots. Business as usual tonight. Mitch knew

it made sense not to change anything that might tip off the Russians that

something was up. Even when that meant Sandy would be making the

rounds at the clubs.

“Be sure to call Frye if they make contact,” Mitch said for the fifth

time.

“I will.” Sandy picked up a tiny purse on a shiny silver chain and

slung it around her neck. She had her cell phone, a spray container of

mace, lipstick, and condoms. Work supplies. “You’re the one who needs

to be careful. You and Irina are gonna be right there when everything

goes down. You don’t need to be thinking about me. You don’t need to

be worrying about anything except keeping safe. You got it?”

“Don’t go anywhere with them unless Frye knows.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “I know the drill. If I show up in Atlantic

City tonight at this party, you don’t worry about me. You just do your

thing and I’ll do mine.”

• 289 •

RADclY fFe

Mitch cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over her chin. “I

love you. See you when this is over.”

Sandy kissed him. “Just remember that.”

v

Sloan, in black jeans and a black T-shirt, settled the holster onto

her right hip and shoved her federal credentials into her back pocket,

aware that Michael was watching everything she did. She’d been in

some tight spots in Southeast Asia, particularly when she’d been a field

agent on the trail of some of the major drug smugglers in the region.

She wasn’t afraid of a fight, but things were different now. She had

Michael to think about.

“It’s just a precaution, and I’m not going to be anywhere near the

action.” She held out her hand. “Walk me out?”

“I’d rather see you spend twenty-four hours a day in front of the

computer, than this,” Michael said softly. “I don’t know how Catherine

stands it.”

“There’s really nothing to worry about. I promise.” Sloan took

her hand. “These are businessmen, not hardened criminals, and most of

them are gonna have their pants around their ankles. They’re not going

to resist.”

“What about the Russians who are with them?”

“Rebecca has the state police on standby. They’ll go in first along

with Watts. Once everyone is locked down, Rebecca and I will just

coordinate the transfers. We don’t trust Clark’s men not to show up, and

we’re not losing our prisoners this time.”

“I suppose this is going to sound selfish, but I don’t really care if

Clark makes off with a bunch of criminals or not.” Michael stopped

Sloan before she could call the elevator. “I just want you coming home

in one piece.”

Sloan kissed her. “It’s not selfish. And at the first sign of trouble,

I’ll run.”

“Sloan. You’re such a bad liar.” Michael laughed shakily and

kissed her as the elevator doors opened. “Call me, darling. As soon as

you can.”

“I’ll be late,” Sloan said as the elevator doors slid closed. “Don’t

worry.”

• 290 •

Justice for All

v

“You know your sister is probably going to be there tonight,”

Mitch said, standing in the bathroom doorway.

Irina squinted into the small mirror above the bathroom sink and

touched up her mascara. “I hope so. You said they would bring the same

group as last week.”

“The lieutenant will wait until the party is under way before

making the arrests. You’ll probably have to…you know, put your sister

to work.”

“Mitch,” Irina said, turning in the tiny space to face him. “We

don’t think like you do. If she needs to fuck some man tonight, she will

not care and neither will I. As long as later, we are free.”

“I get that,” he said. “I just…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want

you to be upset.”

She smiled at him, her expression softening. Then in another one

of those moves that always took him by surprise, she pressed close and

whispered against his mouth, “This might be the last chance I get.”

Then she kissed him in a way she never had before. Not urgent,

not challenging, but softly, gently. Her fingers glided through his hair,

her body undulated languidly against his, her hips rocked rhythmically

into his. He responded before he had time to think about it, and then

when he would have pulled away, she did.

“That was to say thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.” Mitch stepped back from her so that their

bodies no longer touched. “I think you’re pretty special.”

“But you already have a girl, don’t you, new boy,” she said quietly,

her eyes searching his.

“I do.”

She nodded and slipped past him. As she reached for the leather

coat he’d bought her, her cell phone rang. She answered and spoke a

few words in Russian.

“Olik is on his way with the girls,” she said. “He wants to see for

himself how we work.”

Mitch grinned. “You ready?”

Irina took his hand and laced her fingers through his. “Da.”

v

• 291 •

RADclY fFe

Halfway up the block, a black stretch limo slid to the curb in front

of Mitch’s apartment. A burly, flat-faced man in a long black leather

trench coat exited the front passenger side and walked around to the

sidewalk. He pulled open the rear door, folded his arms, and stood there

like a statue. A minute later, Mitch and Irina came down the steps and

climbed into the limo. The man slammed the door, got back in front,

and the car slid away.

“Here we go,” Rebecca said, starting the engine. She waited until

the limo had turned the corner heading east before following.

“Atlantic City, here we come,” Watts muttered, slouched in the

passenger seat of the unmarked.

Sloan leaned forward from the back to get a look out the

windshield. “New Jersey, here we come,” she said with satisfaction.

“Taking those girls across the state line should make the federal charges

nice and solid.”

“Why don’t we just drive right to the casino hotel,” Watts said,

“instead of following them around and risking them picking us up on

their tail? That jerk-off Thomas already told us where this little fuckfest

is going down.”

Rebecca’s gaze locked on the taillights of the limo five cars ahead

of them. “Since Mitch isn’t wired and there’s no way he can call us if

they change the location at the last minute. They could direct the johns

to a new rendezvous spot, and we’d be sitting in front of the Boardwalk

Hotel with our thumbs up our butts for the rest of the night.”

Watts grunted. “Must be why you’re the lieutenant.”

“Of course, maybe you’d like Sloan’s thumb up—”

“Hey!” Watts and Sloan objected at once.

Rebecca grinned fiercely, feeling the burn of anticipation in the

pit of her stomach. Everything made sense now that she could finally

see the big picture. Jimmy Hogan, a narcotics detective and one of

Clark’s agents, had gone undercover to get information on the Zamora

organization. In the process, he’d stumbled onto the human trafficking

operation at the pier being run by the Zamoras’ new Russian associates.

Needing help to investigate that, he’d arranged a rendezvous with

Rebecca’s partner Jeff in the Special Crimes Unit, but Jimmy’s cover

had been blown and he hadn’t known it. He and Jeff had been executed,

and Rebecca knew with every cop instinct she had that one of the

• 292 •

Justice for All

Russian enforcers had pulled the trigger. Tonight, she would have

justice for her dead partner.

“I still can’t believe the DA agreed to let that pervert priest walk,”

Watts said bitterly.

“We needed his cooperation and the church has a lot of power.

We had to bargain.” Rebecca had objected violently, but her arguments

hadn’t done any good. She’d been instructed to personally take charge of

him during the bust and sequester him away from the other prisoners.

Thinking of the phone call she’d made just before she picked up

Watts and Sloan, Rebecca turned onto the Atlantic City Expressway.

“But you never know. Anything can happen.”

v

“You might want to work one of the other clubs tonight,” Sandy

said when Darla plunked down next to her at the bar at the Blue

Diamond.

“How come?”

Sandy tilted her head toward the two men talking to a couple of

girls across the room. “Our friends are back.”

Darla followed her gaze and stiffened. “Oh man. Those nasty

pricks—I was hoping I’d never see them again. You think they

remember us?”

“Yeah.” Sandy kept her eyes on the hard-eyed guy who’d gotten

off manhandling her in the parking lot the week before. He smirked

at her and adjusted his crotch. When he started toward them, she said

quickly, “You don’t want to be in on this tonight. Go out the back.

Now.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Darla didn’t bother to wait for an

answer. She just hopped down from the stool and hurriedly collected

her purse and jacket.

Sandy held the Russian’s gaze as he approached. She smiled at

him, and she didn’t have to fake it. She was really glad he’d found her,

because now she’d have the chance to see him go down. “I’m gonna

be just fine.”

v

• 293 •

RADclY fFe

Mitch leaned against the wall just inside the door of the penthouse

suite at the Boardwalk Hotel and Casino and watched the party get under

way. A Russian security guard occupied a similar spot on the opposite

side of the door, looking bored. Irina directed the girls, speaking to them

in Russian and moving them about the room like players on a stage.

Placing one next to a portly sixty-year-old who immediately began to

fondle her while gulping the drink Irina handed him. Instructing another

to kneel between the spread legs of a thirtysomething in a business suit

who unzipped his fly and tugged out his penis while sharing a joke with

a man seated nearby. She’d chosen two of the youngest to sit on either

side of Bishop Thomas on a wide leather couch.

Mitch recognized Thomas from the photograph Sandy had taken

at the last party. He recognized Irina’s sister, too, whom Irina had just

delivered like a party favor to the priest. Nothing showed on Irina’s

face as she went about the business of seeing to the clients’ needs, and

her sister had been equally cool, only the faintest smile showing for a

second when she’d first seen Irina. Mitch wondered if Irina struggled

with the same blind rage that hammered at the edges of his control, or if

she had long ago accepted the reality of what she must do to survive. He

thought of her and Sandy, and ached for retribution for all the injustices

they had endured.

Realizing his fists were clenched at his sides, he made a conscious

effort to relax and put his personal feelings aside. He didn’t know

precisely when the lieutenant would greenlight the takedown, but when

it happened, he needed to be completely focused.

When Irina finished distributing the girls, a few men were still

without escorts, and one of them appeared to be having a heated

conversation with Olik, who lounged on a stool at the wet bar on the far

side of the room. The thin, agitated man stalked off and Olik pulled out

his cell phone and made a call. The Russians didn’t have enough girls

of their own to cover the party, and Mitch knew what that meant. When

a knock sounded at the door and the guard next to him exchanged words

in Russian with someone outside in the hall, Mitch steeled himself for

what was coming.

The guard pulled the door open and a man walked through

with three more girls. Sandy didn’t look at Mitch, and he gave her a

cursory glance and then looked away. Even when Sandy and one of

• 294 •

Justice for All

her girlfriends headed straight for the thin man who sat fidgeting on the

love seat across the room, Mitch just stared straight ahead. He didn’t

flinch when the man said something to Sandy and pressed her hand

over the bulge in his crotch. Sandy laughed and pulled her hand away

before reaching for the girl beside her and deep-throating her. Mitch

didn’t mind the kiss as long as the guy wasn’t touching her anymore.

Sandy had a job to do, and so did he. The best way to keep her safe was

to get between her and the Russians when the fireworks started. He

would preserve his cover, but if he got the chance, he’d kick that slimy

bastard’s balls into his throat.

• 295 •

• 296 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER ThIRTy-ONE

Everyone should be settled in by now,” Rebecca said a few

minutes after they watched Sandy climb out of a black SUV

and go into the hotel with two men and a couple of other girls. She

checked Watts and Sloan. “Ready?”

“Fucking A,” Watts growled, releasing the strap on his holster

before reaching for the door handle.

“Looking forward to it,” Sloan said easily.

“I’ll alert Clark to move on Zamora. Watts, radio when you

rendezvous with the tactical team at the service elevators. We’ll take

the lobby and clear the stairwell. Wait on the door until we get there if

you can.”

“Roger, Loo.” Watts slid out of the car and hurried away with a

spring in his step.

Rebecca speed dialed Clark, snapped, “We’re moving,” and

disconnected.

“The Russians will be armed,” Rebecca reminded Sloan. “You

stay at the rear and out of the line of fire.”

“How about I just watch your back and we don’t worry about

where I’m standing.”

“Fair enough. But Jesus, keep your head down.” Rebecca grinned

as she opened her car door. “I don’t need Michael after me for getting

you bruised.”

Laughing, Sloan climbed out and joined Rebecca as they headed

toward the front entrance. “I’m sorry Jason is missing this one.”

“We need him back at headquarters monitoring Zamora, just in

case he gets wind of this and starts dumping data.” Rebecca slowed as

• 297 •

RADclY fFe

her radio crackled and Watts relayed that the strike team was in position.

“I copy. Give us thirty seconds. Then go.”

Rebecca and Sloan sprinted into the lobby, jogged around guests

and bellmen, and hurtled into the stairwell.

v

Dell heard a muffled shout through the door and knocked the

Russian guard next to her off balance as the door crashed open. Everyone

in the room shouted at once as officers in riot gear stormed into the

room. Girls cowered on the floor, men scattered while trying to zip

and cover, and the Russians reached for weapons. Dell took advantage

of the pandemonium and the momentary cover provided by the strike

team to elbow the guard in the temple. The guy dropped like a stone.

Dell immediately checked for Sandy and saw her drag the girl with

her behind the sofa. Across the room, Watts manhandled the other guard

up against the wet bar and slammed his head down amidst the bottles

and glasses. The lieutenant shoved the priest to the floor next to the sofa

and cuffed him. The remaining johns jostled like spooked cattle, trying

to get out the door past the police who were busy restraining them.

The situation seemed contained until Dell caught a glimpse of

Olik yanking Irina by the arm toward the hallway that led to the rear of

the penthouse. She wasn’t certain of the layout, but she thought there

might be another exit.

Shouldering her way through the melee, she raced down the hall.

When she pushed through a partially open door, she found herself in

another large sitting room with a wide foyer to her left and sofas and

chairs grouped around an empty fireplace off to her right. In the foyer,

Olik, one hand twisted in Irina’s hair, jerked open the door to the hall.

Dell couldn’t let him take her. She yanked her backup piece from her

ankle holster and leveled it at Olik’s head. “Olik. Let her go!”

Seconds stretched into eternity as Olik thrust Irina in front of him

and raised his automatic.

“Irina! Get down!” Dell shouted, desperately angling for a clear

shot. Then Irina lunged at Olik and the air erupted in gunfire.

v

• 298 •

Justice for All

Rebecca dropped into a crouch in the doorway and scanned the

sitting room. Mitchell knelt nearby, blood covering one side of her face

and her gun hand wavering. Irina was sprawled in the center of the

foyer, a widening patch of crimson soaking her blouse.

“Hallway,” Mitchell gasped, staggering to her feet. “I’ll cover

you.”

Sloan stormed by and yelled, “See to the girl! I’m with Frye.”

Rebecca leapt for the door. “Go low.”

“Got it,” Sloan called.

They burst into the hall side by side. Rebecca pivoted against the

wall and Sloan skidded to her knees on the far side, weapon extended.

Olik was twenty feet away, almost at the stairwell doors.

“Police,” Rebecca shouted. “Drop the weapon!”

Olik half turned in their direction and fired blindly while diving

for the stairwell. Sloan and Rebecca opened fire.

v

“Dell!” Sandy threw herself down next to Dell. “Dell. Oh,

Jesus.”

“I’m okay,” Dell said, wiping her forearm across the side of her

face. “Just nicked me. God, Irina.”

Gunfire clattered in the hall outside.

“Go,” Sandy yelled, flinging herself toward Irina. “I’ll take care

of her.”

Dell rushed across the room and ducked into the hall. Sandy pulled

up Irina’s blouse and pressed the heel of her hand to the ragged two-inch hole below her left collarbone. Flecks of blood streaked Irina’s

lips, and her breath rattled with each shallow inhalation.

Irina’s eyes fluttered open. “Mitch?”

“He’s okay,” Sandy muttered, pressing harder as the flow of blood

picked up. “Don’t talk, okay? Just lie still. You’ll be okay.”

“Mika,” Irina whispered. “My sister. Someone take care…”

“Listen,” Sandy snapped, leaning over so Irina could see her face.

“Shut up. You’re making the bleeding worse. You’ll be fine. You can

take care of your sister yourself. You got it?”

Irina smiled weakly. “Mitch’s girl.”

• 299 •

RADclY fFe

“You bet your ass. Now hush.” Sandy’s heart dropped when Irina’s

eyes rolled back and she went very still. When she heard pounding

footsteps behind her, she prayed it wasn’t one of the Russians.

“Fuck,” Watts yelled. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Do something, will you?” Sandy screamed at him.

He already had his radio out and was shouting for EMTs. Then he

disappeared into the hallway, too, leaving Sandy alone in the sudden

stillness.

• 300 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER ThIRTy-TwO

Rebecca stepped over the pool of blood where Irina’s body had

lain. The bitter tang of blood and cordite hung in the air and

coated her throat with frustration and fury. Uniformed officers strung

yellow crime scene tape over the doorways, and a police photographer

and the crime scene crew, talking in hushed whispers, processed the

now empty rooms.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Rebecca said to Sloan, stopping outside

the bedroom door where she had posted one of the state police.

“You need help with this?” Sloan asked.

“No, but do me a favor? Call Catherine for me. Tell her…” Rebecca

grimaced. “Tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“No problem.”

The other johns had already been loaded into police vans and

shipped off for booking. Her duty was to deliver the priest to a waiting

squad car so he could be whisked away in anonymity. She nodded to

the officer on the door. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

The Most Reverend Joseph Thomas sat on the side of the bed,

glaring at her, his hands cuffed behind his back. His unbuckled belt

hung over his open fly, but he’d apparently had time to get his dick back

in his pants. Too bad.

“Take these things off my wrists,” he demanded. “They’re very

uncomfortable.”

“Sorry, I can’t do that until you’ve been transferred. Then you can

complain to whoever will listen about anything that’s bothering you.”

She grabbed him by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

• 301 •

RADclY fFe

She escorted her special prisoner down the hallway to the service

elevator and then through a long, deserted basement tunnel to the

delivery entrance.

“I certainly hope this isn’t going to take the rest of the night,” he

complained.

“Not much longer now.” Rebecca pushed the door open and,

tightening her grip, pulled him out onto the loading dock.

Immediately, the harsh glare of television spotlights lasered in on

them. A dozen voices shouted and as many arms thrust microphones

toward the priest. When he tried to duck away, Rebecca forced him

around toward the camera lenses.

“Is it true those girls were sex slaves?”

“How much did you pay them?”

“Were they all teenagers?”

“Does the church know of your involvement?”

“How long have you been using prostitutes?”

“Father…”

“Father…”

“Father…”

Satisfied, Rebecca dragged him through the crowd and pushed

him into the rear seat of a waiting patrol car.

“You! You miserable bitch! You did this!” he screamed, his

handsome face distorted with outrage and disbelief.

Rebecca braced her arm on top of the car and leaned in until they

were eye to eye. “No, you did this. But you’re finished now.”

v

Ninety miles away, Kratos Zamora reached over his wife in bed

and picked up the phone. He listened for half a minute and said, “Call

me back on the other line.” Then he rose, careful not to wake her, and

slipped out of the bedroom.

Once in his office, he took a Cuban cigar from the humidor on his

desk, clipped the end, and lit it with a gold-plated lighter. Savoring the

fragrant smoke, he waited for the call to come through on the disposable,

and untraceable, cell.

“Where are they taking Gregor?” he asked. “Federal? Who do we

have there?”

• 302 •

Justice for All

After he got the details he needed, he said, “I’ll be in touch.”

He disconnected and smoked in silence for a few moments. Then

he called Talia Ballenger. When she didn’t answer, he hung up, removed

the cable connection from his personal computer, and pressed several

keys to initiate the program that would wipe the hard drive clean. After

he finished his cigar, he pushed the intercom to the guard’s quarters.

“Vincent. Come around to the office, would you please.”

He got up and poured himself a drink, mapping out his strategy

for damage control. He had learned long ago that the most powerful

weapon was often the unexpected.

v

“Dell,” Sandy said in a low soothing voice, rubbing the back of

Dell’s neck. “Baby, you gotta try to relax.”

“I fucked up,” Dell muttered for the tenth time, staring between

her boots at the scuffed waiting room floor. “I should’ve known what

he was going to do. I should’ve gone for Olik the second they came

through the door. Man, I let him take her.”

“You didn’t let him do anything.” Sandy resisted the urge to shake

her because she knew her head must be hurting. The two-inch gouge on

her cheek wasn’t serious, but a bullet wound was a bullet wound, and

it had to hurt. At least Sandy had been able to force her into letting one

of the nurses in the emergency room clean it out and put some butterfly

bandages on it. “You went after them. You stopped him from escaping

with her. You know he would’ve killed her if he suspected she was

involved. And you couldn’t know she was going to go for his gun.”

“After all this, what if she dies?” Dell searched Sandy’s eyes,

desperately seeking reassurance. “It’s so fucking unfair.”

Sandy smiled softly, loving that Dell still believed that life ought

to be fair. “Baby. That girl is tough. She’s not going to die. Besides, you

and Watts got her flown here, didn’t you? That was the best thing you

could have done. ’Cause you know Ali kicks ass in the OR.”

“That I do,” Ali said, walking up to join them. “Your friend lost

a lot of blood and I had to remove a little bit of her left upper lobe, but

she’s got plenty of lung tissue left. In fact, she’s doing so well, we’ll

probably pull the breathing tube tonight.”

Dell grabbed Sandy’s hand. “She’ll be okay?”

• 303 •

RADclY fFe

“You know the drill. Anything could happen, but yes. I think she’ll

be fine.”

“Can I see her?” Dell asked.

“She’s pretty out of it. And she won’t be able to talk to you.”

“That’s okay. Just for a minute?” Dell looked at Sandy. “Okay,

babe?”

“Sure, rookie. You go see her.”

Sandy waited until Dell left with Ali, then she called Michael.

“Hey. Sloan get home?…No, we’re okay. We’ll be here for a little while

longer.” She laughed, leaned back, and closed her eyes. “Nope. Haven’t

changed my mind. I’ll need my GED to get into the academy, though.

Now that’s scary. You will? You’ll help?”

She waited a few seconds until her voice was steady. “Yeah, I get

it. That’s what friends do.”

v

“Hey,” Dell said softly, taking Irina’s cool hand in hers. “I know

you’re probably sleeping…”

Irina’s eyes opened and slowly focused on hers.

Dell swallowed hard. “I’ll be back tomorrow, but I wanted to tell

you that Mika is okay. She’s in a safe house.”

Irina squeezed her fingers with surprising force.

“She’ll be there until you get out. I’ll check on her. So don’t worry,

okay?”

Irina’s lids fluttered and she seemed to make a huge effort to keep

them open. Dell saw the question in them.

“Olik is still in the operating room. He’s shot up pretty good. He

might make it, but even if he does, he’ll be in prison for a long long

time. He’s not going to hurt you anymore.” Dell leaned over and kissed

her forehead. “Go to sleep now. You’re free.”

v

Catherine watched the report of the arrests on television and then

fell asleep in the living room while reading through resident admission

applications. She woke at the sound of the key in the front door and set

• 304 •

Justice for All

the folders aside to make room on the sofa. When Rebecca settled next

to her, Catherine took her hand and leaned over to kiss her.

“You looked good on camera.”

Rebecca laughed. “Just as long as he did.”

“Are you going to get in trouble for that? You were the one who

tipped them off, weren’t you?”

“The department is happy about the positive coverage, so for the

moment, nobody’s asking any questions.”

“Good. Because you did the right thing.” Catherine curled up in

Rebecca’s arms and rested her head on her shoulder. “I love you.”

Rebecca rubbed her cheek against Catherine’s hair. “I love you

too.”

“What about the rest of it?”

“Well, the politics still have to play out, but the Russian girls are

with Immigration—they’ll be okay after all the red tape is sorted. Clark

has Gregor Zamora, and you never know what the feds might get out of

him. We’re still processing the Russians, but if we’re lucky, we’ll get

more names. And I dragged Flanagan out of bed to run a ballistics test

for me.”

Hearing the tension in Rebecca’s voice, Catherine tilted her head

back to study her face. Her usual sharp profile was even more rigid than

usual. “What? What did you find?”

“Olik’s gun is a match for the one that killed Jimmy and Jeff.”

Catherine caught her breath. “God, Rebecca. You got Jeff’s

killer.”

Rebecca held Catherine tightly. “When I drive over to Shelley

Cruz’s tomorrow and tell her I caught her husband’s killer, do you think

it’s going to make her pain any less?”

“I do,” Catherine said firmly. “Maybe not today. Maybe not

tomorrow. But at some point she’ll be ready to face the rest of her life,

and she’ll be able to do that because she will know that justice has been

done.”

“It doesn’t seem like enough sometimes.”

“It’s all that we have.” Catherine placed her hand over Rebecca’s

heart. “That and what we hold in here for each other.”

Rebecca kissed her. “Then I have everything I need.”

• 305 •

• 306 •

Justice for All

EPILOgUE

One Week Later

Hey, kid.” Watts clapped Dell on the shoulder as he reached

for a doughnut from the box Sloan dropped into the center

of the conference table. “I hear your squeeze is gonna be packing heat

before long.”

Dell stared at him. “Gimme a minute while I translate caveman-speak.”

Watts laughed. “Sandy. The academy. Cop. Gun. Jesus, there’ll be

no stopping her then.”

“Oh yeah,” Dell said. “Like there ever was.”

“True,” Watts said around a mouthful of jelly. He leaned back,

a happy smile on his face. “Man, it feels good to be on top once in a

while.”

Across from him, Jason sniggered.

“What?” Watts demanded.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Sloan cut Jason a look. “Don’t tease the infirm.”

“Aww, I never get to have any fun.” Jason placed a Boston crème

on a napkin next to his computer.

“It sounds like you’ve been having plenty of fun,” Sloan said.

“Don’t you have a little something to share with us all?”

Jason turned red. “I guess Sarah called you, huh?”

“About time too,” Sloan said.

“What?” Watts looked back and forth between Sloan and Jason.

“Sarah’s pregnant,” Jason said, referring to his partner.

• 307 •

RADclY fFe

After a second of silence, Dell gave a cheer.

“Nice work,” Watts said, then frowned. “So if you’re gonna be a

daddy, what does that make Jasmine?”

Jason grinned. “You better ask her.”

Watts’s laughter broke off suddenly when Rebecca appeared in the

doorway of the conference room. The look on her face had him sitting

up straight in his chair. “Hey, Loo.”

Rebecca walked to her customary spot at the end of the table but

she didn’t sit down. “I just got a call from Clark.”

Everyone stared at her. The air in the room grew heavy and still.

“At five fifteen this morning, Gregor Zamora was shanked in the

breakfast line. He’s dead.”

“Holy fuck,” Watts whispered.

“At six thirty when Ali Torveau was making rounds, she found

Olik with his throat cut in his bathroom.”

Dell bolted upright. “Irina!”

“Irina and Mika are fine. I just talked to the federal marshals.

They’re en route to the safe house right now. Ali said Irina was okay

to travel.”

“Talia Ballenger?” Sloan asked.

“Status unknown.” Rebecca shrugged. “The concierge at her

building says she’s out of the country. Maybe he’s right. Apparently

she has residences on several continents.”

“What about the other Russian prisoners?” Dell asked, settling

back into her seat.

“We’ve doubled the guards on them. They probably don’t know

enough to be a threat to anyone important.” Rebecca pulled out a chair

and sat down.

“Kratos Zamora’s doing?” Sloan asked.

“That would be my guess, yes,” Rebecca said.

“His own brother,” Jason murmured.

“What do we do?” Dell asked.

“Nothing,” Rebecca said. “The crimes will be investigated.

Someone may even be found accountable. But as to who really gave

the order? We’ll never be able to prove it.”

“What’s the point, then?” Dell demanded angrily. “Everything we

did. The people we put in danger. For what? Is this justice?”

“Justice is fleeting,” Rebecca said quietly. “But we did our jobs.

• 308 •

Justice for All

That’s what counts. Irina and her sister have new identities, a chance

for a new life. The other girls aren’t being abused anymore. We put a

big hole in the Russian operation.”

Dell stared at the table. “We’re always one step behind because we

have to play by the rules and they don’t.”

“You’re absolutely right. We play by the rules, at least all the ones

that matter, because if we don’t, we’re no different than them.” Rebecca

looked around the table. “Anybody want out? Because this is just the

lull between innings.”

Sloan looked at Jason, who nodded sharply.

“We’re in,” Sloan said.

“Fucking A,” Watts said.

“Yes ma’am,” Dell declared.

“Good. We got close to Zamora once, and we can do it again.”

Rebecca’s eyes gleamed fiercely. “And I promise you this. When this

game is over, we will be the winners.”

• 309 •

About the Author

Radclyffe is a retired surgeon and full-time award-winning author-publisher with over thirty lesbian novels and anthologies in print.

Five of her works have been Lambda Literary finalists including

the Lambda Literary winners Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments

edited with Stacia Seaman and Distant Shores, Silent Thunder.

She is the editor of Best Lesbian Romance 2009 and 2010 (Cleis

Press), Erotic Interludes 2 through 5 and Romantic Interludes

1: Discovery with Stacia Seaman (BSB), and has selections in

multiple anthologies including Best Lesbian Erotica 2006, 7, 8, and

9; After Midnight; Caught Looking: Erotic Tales of Voyeurs and

Exhibitionists; First-Timers; Ultimate Undies: Erotic Stories About

Lingerie and Underwear; Hide and Seek; A is for Amour; H is for

Hardcore; L is for Leather; and Rubber Sex. She is the recipient of

the 2003 and 2004 Alice B. Readers’ award for her body of work

and is also the president of Bold Strokes Books, one of the world’s

largest independent LGBT publishing companies.

Her latest release is an all-Radclyffe erotica anthology, Radical

Encounters (Feb 2009), and her forthcoming 2009 romances include

Secrets in the Stone and Returning Tides.

Table of Contents

PROLOgUE

ChAPTER ONE

ChAPTER TwO

ChAPTER ThREE

ChAPTER FOUR

ChAPTER FIvE

ChAPTER SIx

ChAPTER SEvEN

ChAPTER EIghT

ChAPTER NINE

ChAPTER TEN

ChAPTER ELEvEN

ChAPTER TwELvE

ChAPTER ThIRTEEN

ChAPTER FOURTEEN

ChAPTER FIFTEEN

ChAPTER SIxTEEN

ChAPTER SEvENTEEN

ChAPTER EIghTEEN

ChAPTER NINETEEN

ChAPTER TwENTy

ChAPTER TwENTy-ONE

ChAPTER TwENTy-TwO

ChAPTER TwENTy-ThREE

ChAPTER TwENTy-FOUR

ChAPTER TwENTy-FIvE

ChAPTER TwENTy-SIx

ChAPTER TwENTy-SEvEN

ChAPTER TwENTy-EIghT

ChAPTER TwENTy-NINE

ChAPTER ThIRTy

ChAPTER ThIRTy-ONE

ChAPTER ThIRTy-TwO

EPILOgUE