In between their shopping trip and now, Charlie had spent most of her time trying to dig through the files she’d found on Arturo’s computer. When that had yielded a jack ton of nothing, she’d changed her strategy to the first two military-linked abductions and their finances and, hours later and from the cab of their rental, she was finally making headway.
“Anything?” Vince kept half his attention on the back of the club.
They were splitting their time, staking out Sinful Delights and trying to find more leads. “Hold on a sec.”
Charlie pulled up the bank accounts and credit card statements for each of the girls and set them side by side, until her entire computer screen was one big sheet of deposits and withdrawals.
A loud crunch broke the looming silence. Charlie ignored it, until it happened again, this time hellishly closer to her ear. “Must you do that?”
“What? Eat?” He pulled another potato chip from the bag in his lap and deliberately chomped—loudly. “Yes, I must. I’m fucking starving. You had the chance to pick the poison and didn’t. Now you have to deal with it, sweetheart.”
“SEALs are supposed to treat their bodies like temples, not garbage disposals, love.”
“My body’s doing just fine.” He purposefully flexed his arms.
Even in the cab’s dark interior there was enough light for her to catch the fluid movement of his muscles before focusing back on her laptop. Sweet mercy, the man made her hormones go ape-crazy even while he binged sour-cream-and-yak-flavored chips.
“Why the hell are you so goddamned twitchy tonight anyway?” Vince asked.
“Other than the fact that I don’t like puzzles I can’t figure out? I can tell I’m close, and it’s driving me bloody crazy.”
Vince tossed the chips into the back seat. Maybe she shouldn’t have poked him about the chips, because now he was focused on her instead of clogging his arteries. “Although I’m sure that’s the case most of the time, there’s more to it than that. You’ve been a little off since we talked to Sarah this morning.”
Did she dare?
Did she tell him? All of it—or just enough?
If she diarrhea’d everything out into the open, she chanced Vince pulling the plug on going to Sinful Delights tonight. Delaying it increased the probability that the traffickers would make another grab and add one more victim to the tally.
“I’ve been here before,” Charlie finally admitted.
Vince, in mid-swallow, choked on his water. “Excuse me?”
Charlie rolled her eyes. “Not since it’s been a sex club. Get your mind out of the gutter. It used to be an underground club called Illusions. I hung out there. A lot.”
“Teenage English living up the nightlife, huh?” He peered over her shoulder at the computer screen. “What are you looking for now?”
“This.” Charlie brought up the map of Ocean Drive’s popular clubs and pointed to the screen. “As far as we knew until now, each of the three last abducted girls had been at different clubs, right? The pair of friends, from Pink. The second, from Poison Ivy. And even though Sarah said she and Tiffany Jansen started the night at Hot Lips, they ended at Sinful Delights.”
“Clubs all owned by your uncle—except Delights. At least, as far as we know.”
“Let’s think about this realistically. Arturo practically has the monopoly on nightlife here in Miami Beach. No overprivileged, twenty-something young woman is going to come to Ocean Drive and not go to one of his clubs. Chances that the missing girls were at one is pretty damn high.”
“So we find the metaphorical smoking gun that links all three.”
“We may have already found it.” Charlie nodded toward the screen. “Sarah said the regular cover charge for Sinful Delights was ten grand, right? Well, look at Ann Rittle and Genie Estevez.” Charlie blew up the bank statements from the first two military-related girls. “From Ann’s savings, ten grand gets withdrawn four days before she’s reported missing by her uncle, and when you compare it to Genie’s, it’s the same ten grand, but it’s a tally of a savings withdrawal and credit charge. I don’t believe in coincidences that blaringly bright.”
“If Genie charged part of the fee, wouldn’t it come up on some kind of report?”
“Wow. Smart and buff,” Charlie teased, bringing the next coincidence to her screen. “Sin Enterprises.”
Vince’s brow lifted. “Well, can’t get much clearer than that, huh? So what the hell is Sin Enterprises, and who the hell owns it?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a shell company and, so far, I can’t tell who owns it.”
“And what the fuck does that mean?”
“It means if the real owner of the ‘company’ has a halfway decent computer geek on their payroll, it can be near impossible to find out who owns a shell company, or where the money’s being directed. It makes laundering money ridiculously—and scarily—easy.”
“Does your uncle have that kind of person?”
Charlie grimaced, hating what she was about to admit. “I was my uncle’s person until I refused to do his dirty work anymore.”
She waited for a judgmental comment, for the additional questions, but he surprised her by moving onward. “So maybe he found someone else.”
Charlie contemplated it a moment. “Always possible, I suppose. But then I think about his sham security system at the house, and how he hasn’t even changed the password to his computer. It’s not likely. Anyone with a lick of computer sense would’ve made those adjustments the first chance they got. And then there’s the added factor that Arturo doesn’t trust easily.”
“Will you be able to figure out the owner of the shell company?”
“Eventually. But we need to be prepared that Arturo may not be the one behind it all. I’m afraid if we go looking for bread crumbs that lead specifically to his doorstep, we may miss the real trail.”
Vince nodded. “You’re right.”
Charlie did a double take. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“What was what?” Vince cocked his head, looking genuinely confused.
“You just agreed with me.”
“Because you’re right. Narrowing our focus decreases our odds of finding the person responsible. Casting a wider net takes longer, but it has a higher success rate. It’s basic search-and-rescue tactics.” He glanced up at the nondescript warehouse structure and watched as a leather-clad couple approached the back door. “Fuck. We’re really going to have to go in there, aren’t we?”
Charlie followed his gaze and chuckled. “Afraid so, stud. And if we can link more abductions with the same MOs, I see return trips in our future. And since we only have two free passes, that’s going to mean becoming official members. I wonder if that ten grand is for a person, or for a couple.”
With a groan, Vince scrubbed his hand over his face. “Stone’s going to shit a litter of kittens when he sees the bill for all this crap.”
Charlie signed off on her computer and stuck it in the back compartment. “Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re out of state.”
* * *
Vince’s specialty on his SEAL team had been blowing shit up—a little putty, a timer, and you sat back and watched the show. The closer they got to Sinful Delights, the clearer it became that this time around, he was the show—a freak one, dressed up in matching leather pants and vest.
Wrapping his arm around Charlie’s waist, he anchored her close to his side. “You seriously think people are going to be having sex in there?”
Charlie’s wicked smirk and eyebrow lift alerted him to the coming smart-ass comment. “No. I think they’re playing cards.”
“You’re making fun of me now?”
“Making fun of you would be saying that they’re playing Old Maid and the first loser takes a flog to the arse. Maybe that would be the winner. I don’t know, with this being my first sex club appearance, all the particulars are still a little fuzzy.”
As she pressed her lips together and fought not to laugh, his gaze shot down to her mouth. “Now you’re making fun of me.”
“Why yes. Yes, I am.”
Vince reflexively slid his hand over the large cherry blossom tattoo her half-top left partially exposed. “We need to get one thing straight before we go walking into that club. You stay within arm’s reach of me at all times. Glued to my fucking side, you got it? There’s no way in hell we’re chancing whoever’s behind the abductions setting his sights on you, and in that getup, that chance is pretty fucking high.”
Her brown eyes narrowed on him.
“Throw your daggers somewhere else. I know you can handle yourself. But we don’t know who we’re dealing with yet. It could one or two sick fucks, or an entire organization. I don’t want to figure it out the hard way.”
She looked reluctantly appeased by his explanation. “Fine. You’ll have a Charlie-sized growth on your hip.”
“Thank you. And besides,” Vince added, “if any perv touches you, I’m going to be forced to touch them. Then cops will be called. Arrests will be made, and Stone will be up both our asses for having to bail me out of jail.”
“Well, there goes my idea of jumping on the first man with nipple chains.” Charlie feigned disappointment. A moment before her hand clamped on his arm in excitement, her brown eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. “We should get you some for when we come back! You can take out those barbells and put in some hoops. Add a clip and a chain, and voilà! A dog leash for your nips! I can lead you around the club like you’re my hairless poodle!”
“I’m not leashing my nipples together.” Vince confined his laugh to snort. “And I’m no fucking poodle.”
Her low chuckle sent a warm tingle to his dick. “Then you leave me with no choice but to get my bondage thrills elsewhere, Navy.”
He gently pulled her to a stop, suddenly not caring if she was joking or not. “Let’s get one thing clear right now. If you want to be hog-tied and blindfolded, you come the fuck to me. No way in hell am I going to stand by and let some twisted bastard do it—and that goes for inside this fucking club and out of it. Got it?”
Charlie’s eyes widened in shock—and heat? Hell, his offer took him by surprise, but not as much as realizing he fucking meant it. The idea of her putting that kind of trust into someone who wasn’t him conjured a flash of anger that took him a few minutes to get over. It took another to realize that it was because he’d never had enough emotional investment to want to slug some unknown, faceless man—not until Charlie had flipped things all the fuck around. Realizing just how much she’d come to affect his daily life was probably something he should’ve refrained from realizing until after they’d made their sex club drop-in.
Charlie laid her hand flat against his abdomen and, shirt or not, her touch seeped straight to his core. “Got it. But just so you know, I’m not into the whole blindfold thing, and definitely not hog-tying. This probably doesn’t come as much of a shock, but I’m not a particularly trusting person. No way would I put myself in that kind of position with just anyone.”
“And you shouldn’t…but you trust me.”
She studied him, her face blank way too long. Finally, she gifted him a faint nod. “You’re right. I do.”
Vince’s chest expanded, finally taking the breath he’d been holding. “Let’s get this over with.”
He threaded his fingers through hers and led them to the nondescript metal door of the large warehouse structure. No neon lights. No blaring advertisements. From the outside, it looked like a run-down, forgotten, and abandoned building.
“Here it goes.” Vince knocked.
A narrow slat slid open, the eyes behind it giving them a thorough once-over that turned into a second. Charlie slipped their black cards from beneath her top and flashed them, along with a charming smile. “We’re here for a trial run—told this was the place to let loose and have some fun.”
The peek-a-boo window snapped closed and, a moment later, the door opened. The barest hint of music wafted toward them as the bulky man ushered them into a cramped foyer. “Let me see the cards.”
Charlie handed them over, her smile never wavering.
“Your sponsor?”
“Sarah. She said we could use the cards to see if the place fits our needs before we decide to put in our membership papers. These places have been either hit or miss with us.”
Mountain Man gave them another cursory look before nodding. “Sinful Delights will be a hit. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of any complaints, and I’ve been here since we opened. You’re first-timers, correct?”
“Virgins.” Charlie smiled, saddling up to Vince. “At least in some ways.”
The man didn’t even bat an eye. “So here’s the deal; your free passes don’t allow you a free pass from house rules. You don’t follow them, you’re out. Rules are: “No” means fuck the hell off. You don’t pressure. You don’t stalk. No video or audio recordings. If we find them, they’re dust and you’ll be blackballed from every fantasy club coast-to-coast. Front room’s for observation and the crowd. If you go in the back, prepare to be approached.” He gave Charlie an approving scan. “And you, hon, will get approached.” He slid a look to Vince. “If you’re not into sharing—”
“I’m not,” Vince growled.
The bouncer nodded and produced a set of red plastic bands. “Anyone wearing green bands is up for anything, or at least is willing to be propositioned. Red means don’t bother asking. If a green band approaches you looking for some fun, flash your band and they move on. If they don’t, find the nearest employee, and we’ll take care of it.”
The bouncer snapped on their bands and pulled out a small gold key. “And lastly, for your locker.”
“Locker?” Vince frowned, reluctantly taking the key. “What is this, an amusement park?”
“No cell phones beyond this point. You put them in the locker and you get them back when you’re done for the night. Now last, I need to look at your driver’s licenses.”
“Surprised you don’t have a goddamned metal detector,” Vince grumbled, handing over their phones and IDs.
“We do. It’s embedded in the frame of the front door. You were already cleared.” Once satisfied they weren’t in possession of any recording devices, the bouncer jotted something on a list and handed back their identification. When he opened the inner door, he finally smiled. “Have fun…and welcome to Sinful Delights.”
Six deployments, not counting special assignments, and Vince thought he’d seen it all. Boy, was he fucking wrong. He enjoyed a bit of kink as much as the next red-blooded male, but these people took the kink and slipped it into a damn knot a few dozen times over.
The deeper into the club they went, the more imaginative people became. Thick, heavy curtains cordoned off the more “active” part of the club, a setup that made him give thanks.
Half-naked, horny people surrounded them, yet there wasn’t a single twitch in his pants. But one glance at the woman at his side and little Vince practically saluted the flag. He touched her arm and guided her to their right, where a large group of people huddled around a small, circular stage.
On it, a man, wearing nothing but black leather pants, circled around a naked woman. In this place, that alone wasn’t cause for an eyebrow-raise, but the long, silky rope he weaved around her body in an intricate latticework of webbing, was.
“Wow,” Charlie whispered. “That’s…I don’t know if I have the right word for that.”
“Shibari,” he answered reflexively.
Charlie’s eyes widened before her mouth slid into a suggestive grin. “And you know this how?”
He shrugged. “I read—and no, not porn. It’s a form of ancient Japanese art. It can look incredible when done right, or painful if done by someone who hasn’t studied it their whole life.”
Charlie’s head swiveled back to the show, and he knew how she felt. The guy on stage, whoever he was, had definitely learned from someone skilled.
Vince scanned the room, looking for something—anything—out of the norm when his gaze stopped and rested on a lithe brunette. Her hair was twisted into an intricate braid, keeping it off her face, but there was no denying who it was.
Brushing his hand down Charlie’s arm, Vince gently guided her attention toward the other side of the room. “Two-o’clock. Brunette in black leather. You’ll know her when you see her.”
She surveyed the room and came to an abrupt stop. “What the bloody hell is Tina doing here?”
“Looks like your cousin isn’t as uptight as you’d like to believe, sweetheart.” Judging by the waving arms and pissed-off body language, Tina Franconi’s conversation with the tall man in front of her wasn’t a happy one. “I feel a little sorry for the poor fuck she’s castrating right now. I’m starting to see a family resemblance.”
Charlie nearly neutered him with her glare. “I’m nothing like Tina. You couldn’t have insulted me more if you said I smell like I bathe in garbage.”
Across the room, Tina stormed away, leaving the poor fuck to watch her make a dramatic exit toward the hallway in the far back corner of the club.
“Well, isn’t that interesting.” This time, Charlie aimed Vince’s attention at the man Tina had left behind.
Brock-fucking-Torres.
The DHS agent studied Tina’s departure a beat longer before turning and stalking away in the opposite direction. Charlie’s gaze bobbed back and forth.
“I know what you’re thinking, and no. No way in hell, English. Like glue, remember?” Vince growled, reading her mind.
“It’s going to have to be stretchy glue, because we need to follow them and we can’t do it attached at the hip. There’s no way the two of them being here is a coincidence, and even if it was, they can’t stand each other.”
“Well, they didn’t exactly look friendly. Maybe they didn’t know the other was a member.” At Charlie’s continued glare, Vince cursed, knowing she was right. “Goddamn it, fine. I’ll take Torres, but if someone even threatens to get in your way, you lay them out. You hear me? You don’t question. You don’t warn.”
“You worry too much, Mum.”
“Damn straight I do.” Vince caught her hand before she stepped away. “We’re only here to watch tonight. If we draw too much attention to ourselves, we’re never going to find out what’s going on here.”
“I’m always the picture of low-key.”
Gripping the back of her neck, Vince pulled her into an automatic kiss, and despite being given no warning, Charlie not only accepted it, but returned it with a vengeance. Her tongue touched his, instantly disintegrating any will to stop.
It was a husky, “Can I get in on the action?” spoken from a leering man two feet away, that brought Vince back.
“Fuck off.” Vince flashed his red band, and like the bouncer said, the guy nodded and walked away.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Charlie scolded him playfully. “We’re here to make friends.”
“You don’t need any other friends except me.” Something in his tone must’ve alerted Charlie to his seriousness because she gave him a probing look. “Now’s not the time to hash it out, English. You follow Tina and be careful. We’ll meet up at the bar.”