Forbidden Fantasies Bundle(71)
“It’s fine. Just a couple more clients and Rick should be here in a moment.”
“If you’re sure, hon.” But Darien was tugging her out. Samantha heard Bianca’s faint words—something about her duty to a friend—then she was gone. Another strange event in a very strange day. And where was Rick, anyway? How long could his errand take?
AT BIANCA’S YARN HUT, Rick pushed his handcuffed prisoner into the nearest chair, which happened to be a doily-decorated rocker. Sitting there, the guy looked like he’d been strong-armed into visiting his granny.
Nearby, Mark ripped open a skein of silver-flecked yarn. Tightly wrapped packets of powder tumbled to the table and he added them to the pyramid of baggies he was building. Dangerous drugs in sweet lengths of yarn. Ingenious, really.
Rick had reached the scene in time to block the delivery van from leaving the back lot and now had the driver and two loaders in custody. A third officer watched the other two perps.
No Darien, though, dammit.
Thank God Rick had been at Samantha’s place for Bianca’s early morning call or they might have missed this entirely. A rationalization, he knew, but he’d take it for now. The heat was off Mirror, Mirror and all they had to do was snag Darien and Rick would be free of his undercover assignment.
“Where’s Sylvestri?” he demanded of his captive.
“I just deliver the goods.”
“You’re not helping yourself here, pal. You think Darien Sylvestri would protect you? He’d save his own ass first and to hell with you.”
The guy tightened his jaw, considered the idea, then sagged. “We made another delivery last night, okay?”
“Give me an address.”
The guy named familiar cross streets and Rick had him describe the building. It was Mirror, Mirror Beauty Center, no question. Adrenaline rushed through him. This guy had dropped off a shipment when Rick was supposed to be staking out the place. Instead, he’d been licking chocolate off Samantha’s body in her town house.
“Mark.”
Trudeau turned from where he’d been piling up baggies of dope. “Yeah?”
“Something’s happening at Mirror, Mirror. Call it in. I’m heading out there.” He had to be sure Samantha and the other shop owners were okay. If his carelessness or inattention or, hell, lust, had put them in danger, he’d never be able to live with himself.
HOW DID A PERSON get the name Billy Bones? Samantha wondered, snapping the man’s photo. He was huge, with a Neanderthal brow and slicked-back hair. His black leather vest, sweat-stained leather hat, chained-to-his-pants wallet and scuffed biker boots looked too natural to be a costume.
“And one more,” she said, clicking the shot. She’d only taken two frames. The last thing she wanted was to capture this guy’s inner light—probably an inky black blot.
“Yeah.” He tipped his hat at her, then tromped toward the door. He paused to bend down and sniff Bianca’s abandoned flowers. Maybe he had a soft spot somewhere in his soul.
He was the last of the wedding clients, thank goodness. She’d done fine without Bianca, but she sure wished Rick had been here if for no other reason than to tell her she wasn’t crazy for finding these people a little frightening.
Samantha removed the film from the camera, marked it, then headed up front to check the schedule for the next day, feeling a heavy sense of dread. If it weren’t for Bianca, she’d cancel.
She bent to pick up a cowboy hat that had been left in the hall and carried it to the dressing room.
Except the door was shut, the knob twisted to the locked position. Odd. It hadn’t clicked though, so she pushed the door open and what she saw shocked her cold.
Billy Bones stood in the middle of the room pulling his leather vest over a smaller plastic vest that seemed to consist of dozens of compartments bulging with white packets. Behind him, Elisha stood on a ladder reaching into one of the locked cupboards for what looked like more white packets.
“Hey!” Billy yelled, then headed for her, moving fast.
Samantha dropped the hat and backed up, but not quickly enough. Billy grabbed her, forced an arm behind her back and locked his forearm under her chin.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’ll be in my office. You just finish up in here. Whatever you’re doing.”
“Take it easy, Billy,” Elisha said, jumping off the ladder. “Don’t hurt her. Darien will be pissed.”
“Just shut up and get the stuff. You can’t lock the damn door?”
“I locked it. You didn’t shut it. I can’t do everything. Jamming this stuff into the vests is hard work. The pockets are sewed too tight and—”