She clicked off the call without saying more about Lydia’s location, but if she was planning to “send” a gift, she obviously knew the address. So which way should he play this, as the good cop or bad cop? Not that he was either, strictly speaking. But once he identified himself, he could either intimidate the information out of her with the usual threats about aiding and abetting charges or he could play the white knight and make a plea to her better judgment. Or he could do neither and dial up his surveillance mode, tail Valerie around while she hit the post office with her conveniently addressed birthday gift.
He was still extrapolating likely outcomes for each option when Valerie started talking on her phone. She wasn’t placing a call, however. She was using the voice-activated help.
“What male stripper services are near Venice Beach, California?” she asked.
That stopped Nate short. His pulse sped up while he started scribbling notes.
The electronic voice was kind enough to respond out loud, and Valerie instructed it to dial the number for Hot and Ready Exotic Male Dancers. He shook his head while she spoke to the service and haggled price on a birthday strip-o-gram and private lap dance. From what he’d heard about male strippers, plenty were willing to celebrate special occasions with more than dancing. Special present, indeed. His cock stirred in interest at the thought of a birthday poke, and he shifted uncomfortably while he listened to Valerie debate costume choices.
“No, definitely not a cop,” she said, and Nate stifled a laugh. Lydia probably wouldn’t appreciate the humor of a fake cop at the door. “I guess let’s just go with the businessman. She’s a sucker for a hot guy in a suit.”
He glanced down at himself and smirked, but not because he happened to be wearing a suit. To his utter delight, Valerie went on to not only spit out her credit card information, but the exact address in Venice Beach where she wanted the stripper to deliver his “package”.
Holy fucking grail. In all his years tracking down fugitives, he had never gleaned this much info from a casual eavesdrop. Maybe after all the shit he’d been through, fate had decided to give him a break.
He drained his beer while she finished and hung up, and then he slid out of the booth. With a subtle nod to Benny, he walked out. He didn’t even need to interact with Valerie now. He had all he needed and more. Venice Beach was a good day’s drive from Colorado Springs. If he left now, he could hopefully have Lydia in custody by late the following night. She’d celebrate her birthday cuffed in his backseat. The stripper Valerie had just dropped a bundle on would never get the chance to grind his dick against Lydia at all. Too bad for her. And the guy, for that matter, if the mug shot Nate had seen was any indication.
Nate got in his car and opened the Lydia Franklin file while he typed in the first number on his cell phone’s speed dial.
“A-1 Bail Bonds,” said a rushed voice. “Open twenty-four hours a day.”
“Asa, it’s me, Nate.”
“What’s up? Got something for me already?”
“She crossed state lines, all right. I’m headed out again.”
“You said the trail went dead in New Mexico.”
“That’s not where she landed. I’m leaving for California in a few hours.”
“You’re sure this time?”
“Positive.”
“And you’re not taking a team?”
“I made my conditions clear.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“You said this was a cake job, and I’m taking you at your word. No team, no guns. Just an easy pickup. That was the deal.”
“You’re one ballsy son of a bitch. Or else a really stupid one. But you can trace skips faster than anyone I’ve ever dealt with. I swear, it’s like you’re magnetized to bond jumpers. And I ain’t about to bend over and eat two-fifty.”
Nate pulled out the photo of Lydia, which was stapled to his authorization papers. Despite the typical haggard appearance mug shots brought out in people, there was delicateness in her features, a soft curve to her nose and cheeks that matched her wispy blonde hair. Pale eyes stared out at him with an undeniable intelligence that could definitely have pulled off the crime she’d been accused of. Still, there was a haunted look in those glassy eyes, as though she had just seen a horror she never knew existed. And if there was one thing most all criminals knew long before their capture, it was horror.
“Give me a couple days,” he said. “I’ll be in touch when I have her.”
He hung up and stared at the photo. No, he wouldn’t want a woman like that on the other end of his weapon. At least, not the one he used to carry around in a shoulder holster. The weapon Benny had correctly guessed hadn’t seen much action lately was another matter. He’d be all too happy to point that one her direction. Under different circumstances, of course.