Private Dicks (10 page)

Chapter Six

Trevor was leaning a shoulder against the brick wall.
Although he had his expressionless bouncer face on, his boredom was obvious.
After a quick glance around to confirm that no one was watching, Rhodes snuck
up behind him and squeezed a handful of tight ass cheek.

Cursing, Trevor jumped a foot and swung around, his shock
turning to exasperated amusement when he saw Rhodes.

“Asshole,” he muttered, obviously fighting a smile.

“Probably,” Rhodes agreed, leaning against the wall next to
the bouncer, just an inch too far into his personal space. “Bored?”

“Out of my skull,” Trevor agreed, rolling his eyes. “I hate
Sunday nights. You going in?” When Rhodes nodded, Trevor asked, “Mind starting
a fight? Breaking it up will give me something to do.”

Rhodes gave a short laugh. “I’m meeting Ness, so I probably
will
end up knocking him on his ass.”

Sobering abruptly, Trevor let his fingers brush against
Rhodes’. “Be careful, huh?” He looked across the street, giving Rhodes his
profile.

Catching the other man’s hand in the barest of squeezes,
Rhodes released Trevor and headed for the club entrance. “Always,” he threw
back over his shoulder.

The club was almost empty. The few patrons at the bar made a
depressing contrast to the wild mob of the previous night. The music was low
and the fluorescent light given off by the overheads was sucked up by the black
walls, making the cavernous space both too bright and too dim at the same time.

Blinking, Rhodes allowed his eyes to adjust before walking
toward the bar. Before he could reach it, Ness slid off the stool he had been
occupying and intercepted him.

“Mr…Rhodes, is it?” Ness asked, politely enough. He had his
corporate image going tonight—conservative suit, no chest exposed and a fraction
of the hair product he’d worn the night before. Rhodes shook the other man’s
hand, fighting the urge to wipe his hand on his pants after. No matter how well
the guy cleaned up, there was still something sleazy about him.

Hiding his revulsion, Rhodes just nodded. “Mr. Ness.”

“Why don’t we talk in my office?” Ness suggested, leading
the way through the same hallway Rhodes had been in the night before with
Trevor. Ness opened a door and gestured for Rhodes to precede him into the
room.

It looked like a standard office—oversized, modern-looking
desk, piloted by a leather chair. Ness touched the back of one of the smaller
visitors’ chairs before taking a seat behind the desk.

“Please sit down,” Ness told him.

Despite the normalcy of the office and Ness’ perfectly
polite manner, Rhodes felt prickly and claustrophobic, every instinct he
possessed telling him to run. Instead, he gritted his teeth and sat down.

“Thank you,” he managed, although a smile was beyond him. “I
didn’t expect you to meet with me so soon—you’re a busy man.”

Ness had no problem smiling, although his eyes didn’t match
his lips. “I’m always happy to make the time for someone who shares my…business
interests.”

“Yeah.” Rhodes’ hand wanted to reach for his hip, toward the
phantom gun that he used to carry holstered on his duty belt. After getting
kicked off the force and joining up with Wash, he’d gotten his concealed weapon
permit but he rarely carried his gun. Sometimes it was needed for intimidation,
like with Terry Glade, but most of the time it was more of a bother than
anything. Also, if Trevor hadn’t been stationed at the front tonight, a frisk
would have revealed a weapon and that would have definitely started this
meeting off on the wrong foot.

Rhodes shifted his hand away from the nonexistent gun at his
hip and forced himself to relax and feel out the direction of the conversation.
He wanted to get the fuck out of this office and out of this club as quickly as
possible but he didn’t want to spook Ness by going too fast. Why couldn’t
Wash
have played the pedophile? His partner was much better at undercover work than
Rhodes was.

“How’s your pretty friend Nate?” Ness purred, his tone thick
with suggestion. Rhodes almost flew over the desk to punch Ness in his
disgusting mouth.

Instead, he shrugged, trying to keep his voice as
uninterested as possible. “Fine, I suppose.”

Ness raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t keep a better eye on
your toys, someone might steal them away from you.”

“So steal him,” Rhodes grunted, lounging back in his chair
and meeting Ness’ gaze. “He’s not really my type anyway.”

Eyes narrowing, Ness leaned back, mirroring Rhodes. “So what
exactly
is
your type then, Mr. Rhodes?”

Allowing one side of his mouth to curl up, Rhodes murmured,
“A little younger, a little sweeter, a little more…innocent.” His stomach
churned as he said the words but Ness seemed to be pleased by his answer.

“Hmm,” Ness murmured, resting his elbows on his chair arms
and pressing his fingertips together. His position was so stereotypically
villain-like that Rhodes half-expected the man to say something “eee-vil”.
Cutting off his smile before it could make it to his mouth, Rhodes just raised
an encouraging eyebrow.

“So what do you do, Mr. Rhodes?” Ness finally asked. “I
asked around about you. I hear rumors you were once a boy in blue?”

“Once. Not anymore.”

“What happened? Did your fellow officers figure out that
your definition of ‘spread ’em’ was different from theirs?” Ness’ oily smile
brought back Rhodes’ urge to beat it off his face. Hell, the whole conversation
made him want to punch Ness. Repeatedly.

Instead, Rhodes shook his head. “Just bureaucratic bullshit.
I shot someone. They asked if I had to. I said I did. They disagreed and asked
me to leave. I left. The end.”

“A loose cannon? How…primitive.” Ness’ eyes lit with arousal
and Rhodes felt a shiver of disgust ripple through him. “So what exactly do you
do now?”

Rhodes chose his words carefully. “I assist people in
fulfilling certain needs.”

“That’s funny,” Ness told him, his face amused. “So do I.”

Biting back a sharp retort at being compared to the creepy
bastard in front of him, Rhodes just gave an expressionless nod.

“Be more specific—what ‘needs’ do you fulfill?” Ness
pressed.

“It depends.” Rhodes shrugged. “If someone needs
encouragement to leave town, I give them that encouragement. If certain
gentlemen need to know who stole their stash, I find out for them. Things like
that.”

“A thug for hire?” Ness smirked.

With a shrug, Rhodes accepted the term. “Sure. The pay’s
better than police work. What exactly do
you
do, Mr. Ness?”

“Call me Barry. I have a feeling we’re going to be friends.
I’ve done some real estate development. I run this club. Occasionally, if there
is enough monetary incentive, I also procure certain…items. If someone has an
interest in, say, a hard-to-find…toy, I find that plaything for him.”

Leaning forward and forcing the corner of his mouth to curl
up with pretend fascination, Rhodes suggested, “Maybe a twelve-,
thirteen-year-old toy? Mint condition?”

With a slow smile, Ness cocked his head. “Possibly. I have a
buyer who has disappointed me. He’s slow in coming through with the payment.
I’m tempted to pull the sale.”

“The toy is obedient? Trainable?” Rhodes swallowed back
bile, hoping that the rough break in his voice would be translated as
excitement.

“Oh yes,” Ness promised. “The sweetest little virgin you’ve
ever seen, big doe eyes and silky black hair, just dying to please you.”

“How much?” Rhodes didn’t have to fake his interest anymore.
Ness was talking about Miguel—he just knew it.

“Twenty-five thousand.”

“Can I try him first?” No harm in asking. Rhodes could get
the money together but he’d rather his savings didn’t get tagged as evidence if
everything went down wrong.

“No,” Ness told him, turning to the computer on the corner
of his desk. He tapped a few keys, clicked the mouse a few times and then
turned the screen toward Rhodes. “But you can window shop.”

The black-and-white image was typical grainy security
footage but it was clear enough to see that the boy curled on the cot was
definitely Miguel. Rhodes swallowed hard, his eyes darting across the screen,
trying to find some clue as to where the boy was being kept. There was
nothing—three windowless walls and the cot, plus the sleeping teenager.

“I want him,” Rhodes said roughly, his eyes not leaving the
screen. He heard Ness laugh.

“Then I’ll take your cash—and your cast-off.”

Rhodes ripped his gaze from the screen and stared at the
other man. “Wash?”

“Nate Washington, yes.” The heat was back in Ness’ eyes.

Rage was simmering beneath his skin. Rhodes clung to his
control—he was so close to finding Miguel and nailing this slimy fucker to the
wall. He couldn’t lose it now, no matter how good it would feel to wrap his
hands around that well-fed neck and squeeze until Ness’ egotistical head popped
off.

“He’s not mine to give,” Rhodes managed to say fairly
casually.

“But he’ll come with you if you ask him to the club and
follow you if you lead him into this office. I saw his face when he talked
about you. That boy loves you—he’d do anything you asked. Once you get him in
here, I’ll take care of it.”

Despite his brain’s screaming protest over the plan, Rhodes
managed to shrug and say, “A toy for a toy, huh?”

Ness licked his lips and grinned. “A toy for a toy,” he
agreed.

“When?”

“Next Friday night. Midnight. Bring the cash with you,” Ness
ordered.

Rhodes eyes flicked back to the black-and-white live picture
on the screen. “I want him sooner.”

“Too bad.” Ness flicked his fingers, blowing off Rhodes’
demand. “I want it busy in here when you bring in Nate, and Fridays and
Saturdays are packed. You just have to be patient—and get your money together.”

Pressing his lips together to hold back the arguments he
still wanted to make, Rhodes gave a short nod. “We have a deal then? You won’t
sell him to that guy who ordered him?”

“He’s all yours—if you pay me, as promised.” Ness stood up,
holding out a hand.

Rhodes shook it numbly. “Friday night then,” he said,
turning to leave.

“Isaac?” Ness’ silky voice brought Rhodes’ head around. “You
won’t let me down, will you?”

“Of course not.” Forcing a smile, Rhodes pulled open the
office door.

Let Ness down? Definitely. Kill him? Hopefully.

Wash was waiting at Rhodes’ apartment. He’d wanted to come
along but they both knew that Ness could very easily put a tail on Rhodes and
follow him home. If he was meeting up with Wash at the Waffle House two blocks
away, that might ring some suspicion alarms.

“What’d he say? What happened?”

With a tight shake of his head, Rhodes moved around his
partner. “Give me a minute. I need to shower.”

“But I’m dying here—at least tell me if you found out
anything. Did he take Miguel, do you think?”

“Yeah.” Rhodes headed for the bathroom, not even able to
look at Wash. “I saw him.”

Wash grabbed his arm, jerking Rhodes to a stop. “You
what
?
You saw Miguel? Ness just showed him to you? Where is he? Is he okay?”

With his eyes locked on the bathroom door, Rhodes took a
shivery breath, fighting the urge to shake Wash off. His skin still crawled
from the meeting with Ness, from the glimpse of Miguel’s slight form curled in
on itself, from his own disgusting words that had to be said, but still… Fuck,
he felt dirty. “Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

After a few seconds of silence, he felt Wash’s grip soften,
slipping away as a caress. “Sure, Rhodie,” Wash said quietly. “I got you.”

With a tight nod, Rhodes escaped to the shower to try to
scrub away the filth that clung to him. Even as the door swung shut behind him,
blocking out Wash’s concerned face, Rhodes knew the shower was a futile effort.
This wasn’t something that was going to leave him anytime soon.

Wash was watching TV—the news, judging by the sound of
it—when Rhodes emerged in a cloud of steam, towel wrapped around his waist.
Glancing up, Wash reached for the remote and hit the mute button.

“Let me throw some clothes on,” Rhodes told him, heading for
the bedroom. Yanking on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, he stood still for a
moment, not wanting to go into the living room and replay the whole meeting.

“Fucking baby,” he muttered, running a shaking hand over his
smooth head before walking out of the room.

“Sorry,” he told Wash, dropping down next to him on the
couch.

“No problem,” Wash reassured him, turning off the
television. “I did the same thing to you last night, only I was a bigger bitch
about it. Ness is a nasty-ass piece of work.”

“Yeah,” Rhodes sighed, slouching down until he could lean
his head against the back of the couch. He closed his eyes. “I’m buying Miguel
next Friday night for twenty-five grand. And…”

“And?” Wash nudged after a few silent seconds.

“You.”

“Me?” An incredulous laugh touched Wash’s voice. “When did I
turn into currency?”

Rhodes opened his eyes and glared at him. “Since you shook
your sweet ass in Ness’ face and he got a fucking boner for you.”

“What?” Wash demanded, sitting up. “You’re pissed now? I was
working
. And it got us what we wanted, didn’t it?”

“I guess.” The anger was gone as quickly as it had arrived.
Rhodes rubbed his eyes. “I’m not pissed—at you, at least. This just complicates
things.”

“But in a good way.” Wash grinned at him. “This gets me in.”

Rhodes frowned at his hands, which were clenched on his
thighs. “Right,” he said.

Leaning back, Wash crossed his arms over his chest. “What
does
that
mean?”

“What?” Rhodes grumbled, knowing perfectly well what his
partner was referring to. “I agreed with you.”