The Player's Club: Lincoln (23 page)

She gaped at him. “Absolutely. No. Way.”

“That’s too bad,” he said slowly. “You should’ve done a deal with me. You might’ve even enjoyed it…”

She smacked his hand away before he could touch her.

George grinned. “It’s your own fault, really. Now, not only do I have you for theft…you brought the proof of the Player’s Club downfall right to the chief of police. How much do you think they’re going to hate you, Juliana?”

“What are you talking about?” she yelled. “I didn’t steal anything!”

“I had a talk with the officer who took your belongings. He said you had some jewelry, a cell phone, a watch…
and a flash disk.
”

She blinked. Then, slowly, she forced her face not to smile. She was planning on using that as her ace in the hole. And the fact that he knew she had it made it that much sweeter.

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“Now,” he said, opening the door and motioning the chief back into his own office, “I’m afraid we couldn’t come to an agreement. I’d like to press charges for breaking and entering and theft, and she has evidence of the defacement of public property.”

“I was planning on simply taking back a flash disk that I owned,” she said, in a calm voice. “It was film you shouldn’t have had. Film you have no rights to.”

George smiled a little too toothily. “Chief, I think that, as a good citizen, I have to insist that you look at the film on that flash disk. I have every reason to believe that a crime was committed and filmed, and that tape is proof of exactly who did it.”

The D.A.’s brow furrowed. “Listen, what exactly am I here for? Harold, the chain of evidence isn’t clear here, I don’t even think some of this is…”

“Don’t worry, Cecilia. These guys think they’re above the law, and I think we can make sure this all looks good on paper later,” Chief Freedman said dismissively. He took the flash disk and popped it into his computer. Then he stared at the folder. “What am I supposed to open?”

George stared at the files for a second, blankly. “Wait. There’s not…”

Gotcha.
“Try the second file from the end,” Juliana suggested.

She knew the exact second when George realized why there were more than one file name…and why the file names were suddenly, painfully familiar.

She’d flushed the flash disk with the footage of the Player’s Club. Instead, she’d grabbed a disk of his that looked just like it. And she’d made sure that it had files on it, all right, from George’s computer.

If they tried to get her to incriminate the Player’s Club, she wanted to be sure Chief Freedman got an eyeful of just what his star witness was up to.

“No!”
George yelped, trying to stop the computer. But it was too late. The film cued, and suddenly, the loud, lusty sounds of sex streamed from the chief of police’s speakers.

The chief looked puzzled. “Just what is this?”

“Oh,
George,
” a high female voice said, her breathing hard and ragged. “Yeah,
just like that…
”

The chief’s face turned pale, then red. He stared at George, murder in his eyes.

“Is that my daughter Carolyn?”

The D.A. coughed and glanced at the ceiling.

George was backpedaling quickly, reaching across the desk and shutting off the speakers. “Sir, that was…um…it was all…”

“He’s been filming women he has sex with,” Juliana explained in a low voice that rang out like a hammer on steel. “Without their knowledge and, I imagine, without their consent. I broke in because he’d stolen some film of mine from a different project, but I couldn’t find it. Instead, I found this. I did take it, but only so I could let these women know exactly what a scumbag he is.”

The chief advanced on George, who scooted away, tripping on the chief’s chair in his retreat. “You bastard.”

“Sir…”

The chief ignored him. “Cecilia, if you breathe a word of this,
to anyone,
I will personally make sure…”

“Certainly, Chief,” the D.A. said. She fled the office.

The chief put his skeletal fingers down on the surface of his desk. “George, you’re dropping all charges against this woman.”

“What?” George stammered. “No! She…the police…”

“You’re dropping all charges,” the chief intoned. “And all evidence of this is going to disappear.
Permanently.
This is a bloody election year and the last thing I need surfacing…” He slammed his hands down on the desk. “My youngest daughter, you rat
bastard,
my innocent little Carolyn…”

Juliana bit her cheek. Carolyn was one of the biggest party girls on the circuit. Evidently, being chief of police didn’t equal superior powers of observation.

“You have my apologies, Ms. Mayfield,” the chief said. “We’ll get this cleared up for you. You can leave.”

“Thank you,” she said, getting ready to go.

“But if you tell anyone…”

“Mum’s the word,” she promised. George started to follow her.

“I’m not done with you, Macalister,” Chief Freedman said, forbidding George from reaching the door.

The D.A. was waiting in the hallway. “What an arrogant, stupid boob,” the D.A. said, and for a second, Juliana wasn’t sure which man in the chief’s office she was referring to. “And a gutsy move on your part. Are you going to be putting this in the tabloids?”

“I guess it depends on whether or not any charges get filed, doesn’t it?”

The D.A. studied her before smiling. “You know, I thought you were just a dumb, pretty face. I’m pleasantly surprised to find you’ve got huge brass balls to go with it.”

“Thanks,” Juliana said with a wry grin. “It’s hard to find a dress that fits them properly, but there you go.”

14

LINCOLN WAS WAITING for Juliana when she exited police headquarters. He saw her eyes widen as she recognized him—then watched as she walked right by him.

“Hey,” he said, stopping her. “What’s happened? What’s the matter?”

“It’s taken care of.” Her words were heavy with resignation. “The club’s safe, if that’s what you’re wondering. You’re safe. He didn’t have any trace of the video that I could find, and I flushed the disk.”

“What about you?”

When she simply shrugged, he wanted to shake her—and at the same time, he wanted to hold her tightly and try to chase the shadows from her eyes. “Are you in trouble?”

“It’s not your problem anymore, remember?” Now her words were clipped, and she tried to keep walking.

“
You’re
my problem,” he snapped back. Then, immediately, he winced at the wording, even as she flushed and her eyes snapped to life.

“I’m not ‘your’ anything.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. “Let me take you home. You don’t even have a car here,” he persuaded, his voice low. “Please. Let me help.”

She had a stubborn tilt to her chin, and he braced himself for an argument. But like a squall that had spent itself, all the fight drained out of Juliana. Slowly, she nodded, then followed him to his car without another word.

She was asleep before he pulled away from the parking space.

He rousted her to get her back into the condo, only because he didn’t want to explain why he was carrying her unconscious body to the security guard in the lobby. “Come on, Juliana,” he said, propping her up as they stumbled to the elevator. “Just a few more steps…”

“Why?”

“Because it’d be uncomfortable to sleep in the lobby, love,” he said with a smile.

“No,” she said, her words slurred with exhaustion. “You said…I wouldn’t see you again. Said I wouldn’t see any club members.”

“Shh. We’ll talk about it later.” When he had an idea of what he was going to say, he thought. And when she was a little more coherent.

When the elevator doors closed behind them, he scooped her up, then carried her to her condo door. He swore as he juggled her and her purse to dig for her key, but he finally managed to get them inside. He carried her to her bedroom, taking off her shoes and tucking her in fully dressed. He shut the bedroom door behind her, then settled into her living room and dialed Finn.

“She okay?” Finn asked without preamble.

“Yeah. I think. But she’s out cold—I doubt she’s slept in forty-eight hours.” He paused. “She didn’t betray us, Finn. Hell, she protected us.”

“And then some,” Finn said. “I haven’t gotten the full story, but apparently, George’s folks got an earful—something about him videotaping the chief of police’s daughter while they were doing the nasty. Obviously, the twenty-year-old daughter is none too pleased, as well. Carolyn’s told everybody in San Francisco that she’s going to be giving him a vasectomy with a melon baller.”

“Ouch,” Lincoln said, frowning. “Vivid.”

“Anyway, my family’s lawyers are handling it, but it’s clear that George didn’t get anything pinned on us. Otherwise I’d have heard about it, too.”

“She flushed the flash disk, and when she saw George was going to try and make a deal, she trapped him.”

“She’s brilliant,” Finn said. “I wouldn’t want to piss her off, either.”

“She rectified her mistake with the club,” Lincoln said. “And she finished her third challenge.”

Finn was quiet for a moment. “So how do you want to play this?”

“Take a vote,” Lincoln said. “General consensus, majority rules. See if the club will take her in as a member.”

“You got it,” Finn said. “You know she’s got my vote. But a lot of the members were
really
ticked. They don’t like her, and won’t trust her.”

“I know.”

Another pause. “What are you going to do if they vote no?”

“What do you mean?” Lincoln asked, frowning.

“You’re in love with her,” Finn said, the silent
duh
heavily implied. “There’s nothing that says a player can’t date since we tossed that rule. There’s certainly nothing that says you can’t date a nonmember. But with this much bad blood between the club and Juliana, if they find out that you’re still seeing her…” Finn sighed. “Could be trouble, is all I’m saying.”

Lincoln grimaced. He gripped the phone tightly.

“They’re like my family, Finn.” He felt the muscles in his jaw clench spasmodically. “But they’re not my goddamned keepers. I don’t answer to them. I love her, and I’m not giving her up, not even for them.”

Finn gave an approving chuckle. “Congrats, man. Best news I’ve heard all day.”

Lincoln thought about what he’d just admitted…what he’d just committed to. He rubbed his free hand over his face. “Don’t know what I’m thinking,” he muttered. “She’s going to drive me insane.”

“Yeah, but you won’t be bored,” Finn replied, tongue in cheek. “Hell, I’d rather be dead than be bored. Talk to you later.”

Lincoln laughed again, more easily.

Several hours later, he was just finishing up some emails when she emerged from her bedroom. Gone was the lingerie-clad, stiletto-wearing sexual Amazon that he’d met at Agent Provocateur. She was wearing no makeup; her hair tumbled in damp curls over her shoulders; she wore a gray tank top with a cartoon monkey on it and a pair of running shorts, and her feet were bare.

She was breathtaking, he thought.

She eyed him warily. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

He crossed the room to stand in front of her, framing her face in his hands. “I’ll be here for as long as you want me to be.”

“I’m forgiven, then?” The question was defensive, almost dismissive, but he could sense the vulnerability underneath.

“You made a mistake,” he said softly, kissing her cheeks…tasting a tear. “You were scared, and desperate, and you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. It certainly wasn’t your fault that George stole the footage.”