Fanfiction: Single Parent Hawke - Part II

[rachel500]

For disclaimers and author's note see Part I.


Part 5

‘I don’t understand.’ Caitlin said, picking up the photo. ‘Are you saying Minh was right and Le’s Mom is alive?’

‘Sure looks that way.’ Hawke replied and folded his arms. They were all crammed into the Santini Air office reviewing the folder of information Hawke had been given on the FIRM’s investigation into Ana.

‘And Michael’s been looking for her?’ Dom asked.

‘Thought she might be a lead on Saint John.’ Hawke explained seeing the disbelief in Dom’s eyes. Even after everything the Airwolf team had been through, Dom still had trouble believing Michael would act on purely altruistic motives; truth was, Hawke thought, Dom was right most of the time.

‘According to this Ana was last seen two weeks ago at a nightclub called the Dancing Lounge.’ Caitlin read.

‘I’ve heard of it.’ Dom remarked. ‘It’s a dive.’ He caught Caitlin’s eye. ‘Not your kinda place.’

Hawke’s eyes twinkled. ‘But definitely yours.’

‘Guys.’ Caitlin interrupted before the exchange of barbs could get going in earnest. ‘So she’s still at the Dancing Lounge?’

‘According to Michael, she disappeared.’ Hawke refilled his coffee and took a sip. ‘Darrow has been under suspicion for trafficking women particularly illegal immigrants.’

‘You think he sold her?’ Caitlin asked incredulous.

‘Or he’s holding her somewhere ready to sell her. The FBI believes the women have been sold to be wives in the past at mass auctions. They get a green card and in return they become some rich guy’s willing slave.’

‘That’s barbaric.’ Caitlin snapped.

Hawke held up his hand in supplication. ‘I agree with you.’

‘Me too.’ Dom’s brow was low over his brows, his eyes flashing ominously. He was an old-fashioned man; women were to be cherished, looked after. The very notion of selling them like cattle boiled his blood.

Caitlin took a breath, the colour fading from her cheeks. ‘So Michael’s handed the investigation over to us?’

‘He thought we would want to do it.’ Hawke murmured, knowingly omitting why Michael had handed the folder to him.

‘And are we doing it?’ Dom questioned. He waved at the folder. ‘This guy sounds like trouble, String.’

‘We can’t not do it, Dom.’ Hawke replied. ‘This could be Le’s mother; Saint John’s wife.’

‘I was afraid you were going to say that.’ Dom muttered.

Hawke hid a smile by sipping his coffee.

‘Are you going to tell Le?’ Caitlin asked putting the folder down on the desk.

‘I can’t keep something like this from him.’ Hawke pointed out.

Caitlin’s lips twitched. ‘You know he’s going to want to be involved.’

‘I know.’ Hawke raised his mug. ‘At least I’ll be spending time with him, huh?’

Caitlin smiled. ‘I forgot to ask; how did it go with Mrs Taylor this morning?’

‘Not so good.’ Hawke admitted.

‘Oh Hawke.’ Caitlin murmured softly.

‘She’s given me two weeks to improve or she’ll look into revoking the temporary custody arrangement.’

‘Can she do that?’ Dom asked.

‘I guess she can.’ Hawke said. He shrugged. ‘If we find Le’s mother, I guess it won’t be a problem.’

‘You’d hand custody back to his Mom?’ Caitlin asked.

‘It would be the right thing to do.’ Hawke said quietly ignoring Dom’s sharp look.

‘I guess we have to find her first.’ Caitlin murmured.

Dom sighed. ‘Do you have a plan?’

‘Maybe.’ Hawke said.

‘That’s what I was afraid of.’ Dom muttered.

Hawke and Caitlin exchanged an amused look.

‘When do we start?’ She asked.

‘Tomorrow. I’ll talk to Le tonight about it.’ Hawke said. ‘Reconnaissance only. I’ll go in for a drink, see what I can pick up. We’ll take it from there.’

‘Sounds like a plan.’ Dom agreed.

‘I could go in too.’ Caitlin said.

Dom and Hawke stared at her. She frowned and gestured at the folder as they swapped identical incredulous looks. ‘I could go in as a dancer or a waitress.’

‘Cait…’ Hawke began.

‘No, don’t tell me.’ Caitlin placed her hands on her hips. ‘I’m going to be babysitting Le.’

‘It’s not that.’ Hawke denied. ‘It’s just…’ he gestured, ‘it’s not really the type of place…that you would…’ he looked at Dom who shrugged helplessly; he sighed, ‘…fit in.’

‘I have gone undercover before.’ Caitlin argued.

‘Not this time, Cait.’ Hawke said firmly. ‘Besides I need you to pick up the FIRM’s background investigation into Darrow. You’re much better at that stuff than Dom or I.’

Caitlin held his gaze for a heartbeat. ‘Sure.’ Her eyes flickered away to the clock. ‘I’d better get the chopper ready. I’ve got a lesson scheduled.’ She made her way out of the office closing the door behind her.

Hawke sighed.

‘She’ll get over it, String.’ Dom assured him. ‘You’re right to keep her out of that place. It’s just too dangerous.’

Hawke patted his arm and walked out to the hangar.

Part 6

The neon sign above the Dancing Lounge promised girls, drink and music; it didn’t promote the gloomy fog of smoke, the tables scarred with drink and cigarette burns. It didn’t promise the dim lighting, the watered down alcohol and broken sound system that pumped the music out with the accompaniment of static crackle. All of which didn’t seem to bother the customers gathered in the small, cramped club, eyes following the writhing girl on the stage.

Caitlin wondered what she’d been thinking as she tried to resist the urge to tug at the cut-away shorts that showed the full length of her leg as she made her way from the bar with another full tray of drinks. She hadn’t been thinking, she thought. She’d been too angry that the guys were underestimating her abilities - again. After she completed her flight lesson, she’d marched out of the airfield and straight down to the Dancing Lounge to get herself a job.

It had been easy to sass her way through the door; adrenaline had carried her through a nervous interview with Darrow and on the basis of her sheer gall, he’d given her a tryout as a waitress. She’d had some crazy idea about being able to sneak into the back office and find a clue to Ana’s disappearance but she hadn’t even had time for a break. Her other potential sources of information, the other waitresses, weren’t going well either; they were busy or unfriendly and there was little chance of picking something up by gossip.

She unloaded her tray and flashed a false smile at the guy patting her bum as she sidestepped away. She made her way back to the bar. Brick, the barman, greeted her with a ready smile. He was a bald black man with muscles that bulged from the frayed grey t-shirt he wore. Caitlin waited while he loaded up another tray of drinks.

‘This one’s for the boss’ table.’ Brick swiped the grimy bar counter and nodded at the private booth located just off the stage. Darrow was sat there with two men who Caitlin had tagged as criminal associates. Darrow wasn’t the dodgy club owner cliché that she had expected. The blond attractive forty-year old was dressed nicely in an understated expensive suit. He was quick to halt any trouble in the club, including any customer getting too close to the dancers. He seemed to treat the girls well although with a business-like approach that categorised them as merchandise rather than as people.

Caitlin took hold of the tray and sauntered over to the booth. She slowed seeing the three men in deep conversation.

‘I have buyers lined up, Jarvis. We’re ready to go.’ The greying man on Darrow’s right-hand side commented.

‘We need to wait.’ Darrow said firmly.

The third man piped up. ‘The warehouse is getting some heat, Jarvis. We need to move the…’

Darrow held up a hand, noticing Caitlin standing awkwardly to the side of the booth. He motioned her forward and she hastily stepped up and unloaded the drinks with a sassy smile to cover her eavesdropping. She stepped back and made her way back to the bar.

Another back-breaking two hours of work later, Caitlin finished her shift and made her way back to the small staff room. She rubbed the ache in her back and opened the battered locker she’d been assigned, reaching in for her handbag.

‘You did a good job tonight.’

Caitlin spun around and pressed a hand to her racing heart. Darrow moved out of the shadows of the doorway, closing the door behind him. Caitlin tensed but held her ground. ‘You scared me.’ She managed to gasp out with another smile to cover her nerves.

‘Did I?’ Darrow placed a hand on the locker door beside her head, effectively trapping her between his arm and the door of her own locker. She jerked at the touch of his other hand on her hip. It travelled up her side and rested on her rib cage just under her breast. Caitlin glanced at the hand before meeting Darrow’s eyes deliberately.

‘This part of my job responsibilities?’ She drawled aiming for insolence.

Darrow smiled. ‘Could be.’ His hand slid around to her back and pressed her against him. ‘If you play your cards right.’ He searched her expression and leaned in to whisper in her ear. ‘How much did you hear?’

‘Hear?’ asked Caitlin trying to brazen it out.

‘At the table.’ Darrow’s fingers played up her spine until his hand was cupping the back of her neck. ‘And don’t pretend you weren’t listening.’

‘Just…just some stuff about a warehouse getting some attention from the cops.’ Caitlin didn’t have to pretend the fear in her voice.

‘Hmmm.’ Darrow eased back and searched her eyes. ‘You made a good choice in not denying it. Maybe you’ll get those additional responsibilities.’ He stepped back, releasing her and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a wad of banknotes which he handed to her. ‘Your pay. See Brick on your way out for your next shift.’ Darrow left the room and Caitlin slumped against the locker door. Her heart was thumping in her chest and she could feel the sweat running down her back. It was definitely time to leave.

Part 7

Hawke glanced up from his book at the clock; it was five minutes after the last time he checked and still just after one in the morning. The living room was cast in a cosy glow with only one small lamp by Hawke’s side lighting the room. He was slouched on the sofa; legs stretched in front of him, a book in one hand. He could have passed as a picture of relaxed contentment if not for the fingers of his free hand which drummed the side of the sofa in an angry rhythm. His head suddenly cocked to one side; the hum of a car engine; Caitlin was finally home. He put the book down and stood up. His eyes met hers accusingly when she walked in the door.

Caitlin froze at the sight of Hawke; she’d worked with him, been his friend long enough to see the anger bubbling under the impassive surface. She slowly closed the door and slipped her jacket off her shoulders to hang it up; grateful she’d had the foresight to change out of the revealing waitress outfit and into her usual garb of jeans and shirt.

‘I didn’t think you’d still be up.’ She said keeping her voice low and turning back to him. ‘Le asleep?’

‘He’s with Dom.’ Hawke said in a polite tone that had her tensing. ‘Where’ve you been?’

Caitlin folded her arms over her chest. She considered his still expression. ‘I get the feeling you already know.’

‘Dammit, Cait.’ Hawke snapped. ‘I told you to keep out of it.’

‘And I told you that I could be useful,’ she shot back, ‘only you ignored me, like always.’

‘This isn’t a game, Caitlin.’ Hawke began angrily taking a couple of steps toward her.

‘You think I don’t know that?’ Caitlin said moving into the room to stand directly in front of him. They were toe to toe. ‘Darrow’s a creep, I get it. It’s a dangerous, risky op. Guess what? I get that too.’

‘You went there alone and without back-up. You could have been killed.’ Hawke’s voice was low but his eyes flashed at her. ‘What the hell were you thinking?’

They stared furiously at each other and the room filled with an uneasy tension, part anger and part something else that had Caitlin suddenly lowering her gaze.

She sighed, the anger draining out of her. ‘I wasn’t. Thinking, that is.’ She admitted and stepped around him to slump tiredly onto the sofa. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples in a futile effort to shift a headache.

Hawke looked down at her pale, strained face and felt his own fury melt away; leaving only the worry that had prompted it. He sat down beside her.

‘You just made me so mad relegating me to the background checks.’ Caitlin muttered before she opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. ‘You always seem to forget that I used to be a pretty decent cop before I met you.’

Hawke sighed; he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He leaned back and met her reproachful gaze. ‘I tend to forget that you had a life at all before you joined the team.’ He admitted ruefully.

His comment raised a small smile from her. She shifted to face him fully. ‘I’m sorry I worried you.’

Hawke nodded. ‘You look wiped out.’

She caught her breath at the concern shining from his eyes. ‘I am.’ She smiled. ‘I’d forgotten what hard work being a waitress is.’

‘You eaten?’

‘Not really.’

‘Come on.’ Hawke stood up and offered her a hand. ‘I’ll make you some soup.’

She allowed him to pull her to her feet. ‘I think I’ll take you up on that offer.’

It didn’t take Hawke long to put together the soup and set the table. He waited until she’d ploughed through half of the food before he asked her whether she’d learned anything at the Dancing Lounge.

She stirred the soup thoughtfully. ‘Honestly, not much.’ Caitlin fiddled with the spoon and set it aside. ‘I did overhear a conversation that Darrow had with two men who visited with him. I think they were talking about the auction but I didn’t have much of a chance to listen.’ She slumped back in her chair and tried to remember exactly what had been said. ‘One of them said the buyers were ready. Darrow wanted to wait.’ Her eyes widened and she sat forward. ‘The second guy, he said the warehouse was getting some heat.’

‘Warehouse?’ Hawke mused and went to get the folder Michael had given him. He flipped through the paperwork and handed her a sheet which listed all the property that Darrow owned. He pointed out a section on the paper. ‘Darrow owns three warehouses down by the old docks.’

‘Two are empty.’ Caitlin pointed out. ‘One is leased to a textile company…there’s a note here from Meryl…she followed up. There should be a sheet on a Farrick Textiles?’

Hawke rifled through the disordered folder and plucked out a piece of paper. He frowned. ‘Farrick Textiles…owned by a guy called Matt Sterling. Sterling is on the FBI watch-list for organised crime.’

‘Darrow’s partner?’ Caitlin mused.

‘Maybe.’ Hawke rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘According to this Sterling is the big league. Darrow’s a pretty small fish in comparison. It seems unlikely that they would be working together.’

‘Maybe…’ Caitlin tapped the folder, ‘maybe Darrow’s slave trade is providing a cover for Sterling doing something else.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Misdirection.’ Caitlin explained. ‘It’s the oldest trick in the magician’s handbook. Darrow provides the distraction and Sterling gets to pull something else off under everyone’s noses.’ She concluded. ‘He must be paying Darrow really well to get him to take that kind of risk.’

‘Or maybe Darrow doesn’t even realise it.’ Hawke said. ‘Michael’s going to want in on this.’ His eyes flickered to the shadows under Caitlin’s eyes. ‘But it can wait till morning. You head up, get some sleep. I’ll clear up.’

Caitlin nodded and Hawke watched her walk up the stairs. He sighed at the sound of her bedroom door closing. It had been a tense evening. He’d realised what she’d done almost immediately after he’d arrived home with Le and Dom and found the house was empty. Dom had taken one look at his face and offered to take Half-pint for the night. Hawke had left the house twice to go to the Dancing Lounge and get her. He’d even gotten as far as the end of the street the second time before he’d stopped realising that if he stormed into the bar he would blow whatever cover she might have constructed. He had mentally given her until two o’clock…and worried the whole time about whether the decision would cost Caitlin her life.

Hawke pushed a hand through his hair and stood up, gathered the dishes and headed to the kitchen. He’d been so relieved to hear her car, to see her walk through the door; if anything had happened to her…his hands shook. He put the bowl he was washing on the drainer and braced himself against the sink, took a deep breath. She thought he kept her out of it because he underestimated her abilities; he wondered what she would say if he told her it was because he was bone scared he would lose her one day like he’d lost so many people in his life already. He shook himself. He was tired. Too tired if he was thinking about…he dried his hands and headed up the stairs.

Part 8

‘That’s him.’ Caitlin pointed at the screen in Michael's office.‘He was definitely one of the guys talking with Darrow last night.’

‘Tommy Linton.’ Michael nodded at Kelly who tapped an instruction into the computer. Linton’s file duly appeared on the computer screen.

Dom whistled. ‘He has a record as long as my arm.’

‘Longer,’ noted Hawke.

‘Drugs, arms, assault, battery…’ Caitlin reeled off the list and shuddered. She was grateful she hadn’t known about Linton’s crimes when she’d been eavesdropping on him.

The computer screen flickered and the next page of the file was displayed.

Caitlin peered closely at the known associates and pointed at the third picture. ‘Him. He was the other one.’

‘Charles Gorel.’ Kelly noted.

‘Linton’s usual sidekick and all-round henchman.’ Michael expanded. ‘They’re suspected associates of Sterling but there has never been proof of a direct connection.’

‘Who is this Sterling guy?’ Dom asked.

Kelly obligingly brought up his details. ‘Matthew Garrett Sterling. Entrepreneur and noted businessman.’

‘His personal fortune is estimated at around $75 million dollars.’ Michael pointed at the screen. ‘That’s the legal value.’

‘Didn’t he win an award a few years back?’ Caitlin asked dredging the trivia from the depths of her memory. ‘Philanthropist of the year?’

‘He did. He has some powerful political allies who either don’t know about his illegal operations or choose to turn a blind eye.’ Michael sighed. ‘His background has been sanitised by his PR people. Poor kid from Hell’s Kitchen pulls himself out of the mire and builds a fortune.’

‘He’s living the American dream.’ Kelly commented.

‘Only the money that got him started is rumoured to have come from the New York Mafia.’ Michael explained. ‘Sterling is very slick. Nothing has ever stuck or been traced back to him directly. There’re a number of law enforcement agencies that would kill to get their hands on him.’

‘You included?’ Hawke asked.

Michael shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t be averse to having him behind bars.’ He frowned. ‘The DEA has been trying to prove Sterling has used his textile industry as a front for bringing in drugs from the Golden triangle for years.’ He turned to Kelly. ‘Bring up the DEA information on Sterling.’

Kelly raised one elegantly arched eyebrow but quickly accessed the DEA database to bring up the relevant file.

Michael gestured at the information. ‘The DEA tracked a major sale of pure heroin in Hong Kong two months ago. They believe Sterling was the buyer but the heroin disappeared without a trace.’

‘Two months ago?’ Caitlin murmured. ‘It was two months ago that Farrick Textiles started to lease the warehouse from Darrow.’

‘Ah…it could be coincidence.’ Dom said.

‘I don’t think so.’ Caitlin argued. ‘I mean I don’t think the drugs are there, that’s too obvious but I do think it explains why Sterling might have turned to a small fry like Darrow.’

‘So do I.’ Hawke agreed. ‘Sterling needed somewhere to misdirect the law enforcement. I bet that place is surrounded by any number of agencies falling over themselves.’

‘No bet.’ Michael murmured. ‘But all we have at the moment is conjecture and theory.’

‘We?’ Hawke’s eyes twinkled at the spy.

‘But how does Le’s Mom figure into all this?’ Dom asked ignoring Hawke’s jibe at Michael.

‘I don’t know but we’ve got to try and find out.’ Hawke said.

Michael ignored them and turned back to Caitlin. ‘How good is your cover? Was Darrow suspicious?’

‘Now wait a minute,’ Dom began, ‘she’s not going back in there. Especially now we know about,’ he waved at the screen, ‘all this.’

Caitlin’s eyes flashed and she rose from her chair.

‘She has to go back.’ Michael insisted. ‘Darrow might get suspicious if she doesn’t.’

‘It’s too dangerous.’ Dom argued.

‘She,’ stressed Caitlin, ‘can decide for herself.’

Dom looked beseechingly at Hawke. ‘You agree with me, don’t you, String?’

Hawke glanced at Caitlin before looking back at Dom, struggling between his own knee-jerk reaction to agree with the older man and Caitlin’s comments that he continually underestimated her the night before. He retreated to what was best tactically. ‘Michael’s right, Dom.’

Michael’s eyebrows shot up as Dom glowered at his young friend.

‘She has to go back or Darrow will get tipped off.’ Hawke concluded. ‘But you’re not going back alone.’ He continued directing his comment at Caitlin. ‘I’ll go in as a paying customer to provide you with back up.’

Dom threw up his hands and took a seat.

‘I’ll organise a ground unit too.’ Michael added. ‘If Darrow is involved with Sterling and there’s a chance we can get him…the Committee will want in.’

‘Our primary objective is still to find out about Ana.’ Hawke continued, his gaze moving to Michael.

‘I wouldn’t have expected anything else.’ Michael said dryly. ‘Shall we?’ He gestured at the conference table and they all took their places to plan the operation in detail.

It seemed no time at all before Hawke found himself sat on the bar stool at the Dancing Lounge, nursing a bad beer and a headache. He couldn’t believe how packed the club was with every kind of lowlife LA had to offer. He knocked back a slug of the beer.

‘Can I get you another?’ Caitlin’s Texan drawl inquired beside him.

Hawke glanced at her and his eyes widened as he took in the low cropped top and the cutaway shorts that showed off the long line of her legs. It took him a moment to find his voice. ‘Sure. I’ll take another.’

Caitlin nodded and reached over to take his glass. He watched her walk to the other end of the bar and he shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable.

‘She’s something, isn’t she?’

Hawke turned to find a sweaty, balding man next to him, leaning on the bar with a beer clutched in a meaty paw. He turned to look at the girl up on the stage and didn’t reply.

‘I’m Bill.’ The guy offered Hawke a cigarette.

Hawke declined with a shake of his head; he refused to take up smoking as part of his cover. There was a pause in conversation as Caitlin arrived back with his drink and Hawke took it from her with a short nod.

Bill lit up and watched Caitlin move away to serve a table. ‘You seem to have more of a thing for the waitress than for the dancers.’

Hawke took a sip of his drink and gestured with the bottle. ‘Maybe I have a thing for redheads.’

Bill blew smoke out between his teeth. ‘I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t mind riding that little filly.’

The hair on Hawke’s neck bristled. He forced a smile to his lips and ignored the impulse to punch the other man.

Bill drew in another drag of his cigarette. ‘You know if you want to get to know her better, I could arrange that.’

Hawke took a gulp of his beer. Clever, he thought. Darrow must have this loser stoking up trade for the prostitution side of his business; complete deniability if the guy approached a cop.

‘Thanks but no thanks.’ Hawke bit out.

‘You sure?’ Bill stubbed the cigarette out in an already over-flowing ash-tray. ‘This one’s a brand new dolly. You’d be the first customer.’

Hawke smirked, staying in character. ‘I’ve never needed to pay for a girl.’

Bill’s beady eyes gleamed. ‘I wouldn’t be trying to touch the merchandise here without paying.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ Hawke didn’t even try to hide his amusement, his eyes wandering over the other man’s paunchy belly.

‘Call it a friendly warning.’ Bill pushed away from the bar and sauntered to a table close to the stage. Hawke smothered the urge to go after him and let his eyes wander back to the stage.

Caitlin had been right, he thought. There was little opportunity for her to leave her position and make her way to the office but there was even less opportunity for him to do so. The door to the back of the club was watched over by a guard positioned on a table just off to the side and if he somehow managed to get past him, the door was in clear sight of Darrow’s booth. The owner was alone and keeping a careful watch on everything going on. They would need the distraction Caitlin had proposed, Hawke mused.

He tensed as Darrow suddenly stood up and left his booth. The club owner paused at the bar to talk to the barman and Hawke strained to hear him but couldn’t make out the words over the blaring dance music. He kept his gaze firmly on the stage as Darrow passed by him and went through the door to the back of the club. Hawke sighed. It didn’t look as though there was going to be an opportunity to get to the office at all. His eyes drifted back to Caitlin as she returned to the bar and he jerked his gaze back to the stage, annoyed at his lack of concentration. He frowned when Caitlin walked past him, heading for the door; Darrow must have sent for her. His worry warred with the instinct that they’d been handed a perfect opportunity. He hoped Caitlin would be able to handle Darrow. He picked up his glass and looked at a group of drunken men sat next to the stage jeering at the dancers. Maybe there was a way he could help her.

In the office, Caitlin took the glass of champagne Darrow handed her and sipped it cautiously; she wouldn’t put it past him to have spiked it. He’d set the office up for a seduction; low lighting, soft music and the two of them squished together on a battered leather sofa. The cliché of it almost had her giggling.

‘You seem to be attracting some admirers out there.’

‘I am?’ She asked in response to his remark.

‘You are.’ Darrow sat down beside her on the old leather sofa. ‘In addition to myself, of course.’ He lit a cigarette. ‘Guy at the bar hasn’t taken his eyes off you.’

Caitlin bit her lip and ignored the way her heart was pounding. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’ Darrow blew out a stream of blue smoke. ‘You know him?’

Her fingers tightened on the glass and she shook her head. ‘Never seen him before.’

Darrow flicked his ash into an oversize crystal ashtray. ‘It’s an interesting co-incidence, don’t you think? You start working one day; I get a new customer who only has eyes for you the next.’

‘I guess.’ She murmured.

Darrow smiled and stubbed the cigarette out. ‘It’s probably nothing.’ He moved closer to her. ‘I believe we need to talk about your additional responsibilities.’

Caitlin held her position. ‘Is that what you wanted to do? Talk?’

Darrow’s hand slid up her thigh. ‘Well, now that you mention it…’ He leaned across her, his lips heading for hers; Caitlin forced herself not to squirm away but pretended to respond. His hand grabbed her breast roughly and she used the opportunity to jerk physically as though in surprise and upend the glass of champagne she still held into his lap.

‘Jesus Christ!’ Darrow yelped getting to his feet and looking at the sodden crotch on his trousers.

‘Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I’m just so incredibly clumsy…’ Caitlin grabbed hold a tissue and started to dab ineffectually at the dampness. His hand clamped around her wrist.

‘I’ll take care of it. Stay here.’ Darrow ordered and staggered out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Caitlin was on her feet. She headed directly for the computer sitting on Darrow’s desk; he’d left it switched on and unprotected. She hunted around for a floppy disk and gave the instructions to copy the files. With the computer occupied with its task, she flipped through the open folders and papers on Darrow’s desk. Most of the papers were legitimate invoices, orders and payslips for the club. She bit her lip and glanced at the closed door. She wouldn’t have much more time. A sheet of paper caught her attention. It was filled with a series of words and numbers, like a code. She ripped off a sheet of notepaper and copied the information before she retrieved the floppy disk and hid both in the back pocket of her shorts. She’d just made it back to the sofa when Darrow threw open the door. The sound of breaking glass and raised voices in the bar drowned out the romantic music in the office.

‘Dammit!’ He headed straight for the phone and started dialling a number. He spun round to look at her as though suddenly remembering she was there. He covered the mouthpiece. ‘You’d better get out there and help clear up. Some idiot started a brawl. The place is a mess.’

‘Sure.’ Caitlin slid off the sofa and made her way to the bar. Darrow hadn’t been kidding; there was glass and spilt booze everywhere. The place was in chaos; the music had been switched off and the room was filled with chattering, angry voices as the customers yelled for their money back at an increasingly furious looking Brick. Caitlin started to pick her way through the throng of people and saw Hawke heading straight for her. She carried on walking until they inevitably bumped into each other. She felt Hawke’s hands go around her to steady her. She shrugged his hands off her, frowning at the new scrapes across his knuckles and sidestepped around him. A glance back and he nodded; the acknowledgement that he’d retrieved the information from her. He headed out with the other customers.

Darrow slammed the phone down. He heard a noise behind him and turned to look at his associate. ‘Report.’

Bill shrugged. ‘I’ve checked. Nobody local has a sting operation going down.’

‘Feds?’ Darrow asked.

‘Could be.’ Bill shrugged again. ‘They don’t always see the need to inform us local boys but usually we get whispers and there’s nothing beyond the stuff at the warehouse.’

‘The guy at the bar?’

‘Cagey. Didn’t give much away. Didn’t get a name so I can’t run a check.’ Bill rubbed a handkerchief over his sweating face. ‘He certainly looks the part of a deadbeat.’ He gave a snort. ‘He didn’t jump on my approach to him which if it is a sting was damned clever.’

Darrow smiled at his bought cop. ‘What about the girl?’

‘Her background checks out. Just another small town girl down on her luck.’ Bill sighed. ‘Maybe you’re jumping at shadows, Darrow.’ He suggested. ‘You know if walks like a duck, quacks like a duck maybe it’s a duck.’

Darrow shook his head. ‘My gut’s telling me something’s off.’

‘You’re being paranoid,’ Bill commented, ‘because of this deal with Sterling.’

‘We can’t afford to screw this up.’ Darrow shot back. ‘This could be the start of bigger and better things for the both of us.’

Bill held up a hand. ‘You don’t have to convince me.’

Darrow frowned and looked at his desk. Something was wrong. His eyes narrowed. He took two strides to his computer and brought up the screen. It was in the same place that he had left it but something…his eyes scanned his desk again. The notebook. He picked it up and a finger drifted across the frayed top edge where a sheet of paper had been ripped off. He swore.

‘What’s the matter?’ Bill asked.

Darrow put the notebook down and marched out to the main room.

Caitlin was sweeping the debris into a tidy pile when she saw Darrow making his way to her like a cruise missile fixed on a target. She barely had time to register the fury in his face before she felt the force of it as he backhanded her across the cheek so hard she staggered and fell. She barely registered him telling the other girls to get out.

His hands were around her arms like bands of steel as he dragged her back to her feet. ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘What…do you mean?’ Caitlin tried to get her breath and tried not to give into the fear crawling up her spine.

Darrow grabbed her under the chin and backed her up, pinned her against a wall. ‘You ripped something out of my notebook.’

‘I just made a note to buy some milk. What’s gotten into you?’ Caitlin stuttered.

‘Where is it?’

‘I threw it in the trash.’

‘Right.’ He pushed his hand into the pockets of her shorts, searching her without any finesse. He released her and threw her at Brick. ‘Take her in the back, tie her up and guard her.’

‘Wait a minute…’ Caitlin started to protest but with Brick’s firm grasp on her upper arm she was propelled into the back office before she could complete it.

‘What are you going to do with her?’ Bill asked.

‘We’ll keep an eye on her until I can arrange an accident.’ Darrow lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. ‘Nothing is going to screw this up for me.’'

Continued in Part III