Page 41 of Captive

I walk into Clark's office. He has his round elbow on the arm of his chair and he's gnawing on his thumbnail as he stares out the officewindow.

"You wanted to seeme?"

"Yeah, sit down. I'm not going to lie, Maddox. I'm losing fucking sleep over Tennyson. I've never sent anyone undercover into such a deeply secretive situation." He pushes a homicide case file folder toward me. It sends a jolt of fear throughme.

Clark senses his mistake. "No, it's not anything to do with Tennyson. Not technically. It's the file for the girl we found in the dumpster with her throat slashed. I thought her murder might lead us to this secret club. Turns out, it was a jealous boyfriend. The really fucked thing is I think if we could have gotten to her first, we could probably have gotten her to spill everything she knew about this LaceUnderground."

I arch a brow at him. "Seriously? That's the really fucked uppart?"

He waves his hand and sends several papers shuffling across his desk. "Other than her tragic, violent murder. You know what I mean. Don't try me today, Maddox. I'm not in themood."

I raise my hands in surrender. "Not trying totryyou. I just want my partner back." I just want Ten back, I repeat to myself. "So what about thisgirl?"

"It seems she disappeared for several months, then resurfaced. But her boyfriend slit her throat before we could get toher."

"Where is he? I want to talk to him. See what heknows."

"Leave it to the guys in homicide. They're questioning him now. You've got enough to deal with." He tossed me another file. "A private mail order delivery company seems to have discovered that illegal drug delivery pays better. Gonna need you to start tailing the trucks. Get evidence for a search warrant for the shippingwarehouse."

I jam the folder under my arm. "Let me talk to theboyfriend."

"No. Leave italone."

"Well fuck, Clark. Thanks for this lovely reassuringtalk."

His face turns red with rage but I just blow past that fact. "You start by letting me know that you can't sleep because you're worried that you made a bad fucking decision and sent Ten into a dangerous situation by herself." I stand up and rest my fists on his desk as I stare down at him. "And she's alone. She's alone. By the way, if you think I'm getting one fucking wink of sleep, I've got news for you, I'm not. Maybe I should ring you up in the middle of the night and we canchat."

I expect to have him thunder his angry retort at me as I leave but he's quiet. I reach thedoor.

"I fucked up, Maddox." It's the first time since I've worked under his command that he's admitted he made a mistake. He once set the staff microwave on fire with his foil wrapped burrito and he blamed the 'goddamned microwave inventors' for themishap.

An idea pops into my head as I reach for the door. I spin around. "Send me undercover onthis."

Clark laughs dryly as he pulls a stick of gum from his desk. "As pretty as you are, I don't think you can pass as a younggirl."

"Getting a little tired of being called pretty," Imutter.

"Huh?" He sticks the gum into hismouth.

"Nothing. I could be a club member. I know there's a budget for high end sting operations. Make me abillionaire."

He shakes his head. "Go stake out that shipping warehouse and catch some badguys."

I walkout.

Silvana comes out of the lounge with a banana and can of cola. "Was it a pleasant meeting?" He points to the folder under my arm. "Our nextassignment?"

I nod and hand it to him. "But first I'm going to head down tohomicide."

28

Angie

"Big news, my darlin'."Blake bursts into the bathroom where I've stewed myself in the hot tub until my skin has turned darkpink.

It's been hours since my last shot of nectar. In between doses, my head clears just enough for me to reflect on what the hell I'm doing. During the last few minutes I've been trying to make a mental catalogue of anything pertinent I've discovered since my arrival. But there's nothing. Only the stark, embarrassing reality that I've been swept easily into the sordid, secret Lace Underground as if I was always meant to be a part of it. Shabby-ass detective work—that's what Clark would callit.

Blake sits on the edge of the tub and rings out my hair. "Do you want to hear the news, or are you just going to sulk in thesebubbles?"

---