Fic: The Task At Hand (Leighton/Victoria, Adult, 59,000 words) 1/6
Master Post
"Just one second," Victoria said with a smile. She turned away from the john to rummage through her purse, and she knew Leighton was doing the same thing on the other side of him. When she turned around, Leighton had her hand closed over something and she was smiling, smirking really.
Victoria held up her badge, and Leighton opened her hand to show the john hers too. "NYPD. You're under arrest."
They always protested, always, and it never did them any good. They knew prostitution was illegal, and they picked up hookers up in hotel bars anyway.
Leighton had the cuffs in her other hand. She cuffed the john while Victoria read him his rights, and by the time Mike and Michael showed up outside the door, he'd been properly Mirandized and shut up in favor of asking for a lawyer, which made him smarter than a good sixty percent of the scumbags they arrested.
"Got the concierge too," Mike told them when they led the john out of the room. "Had a uni take him in."
Victoria nodded shortly. "We're all going there anyway; we could have taken them both in."
"We didn't want to miss any of the excitement," Michael said. He pulled the door shut behind Leighton. He was always doing that kind of thing; Victoria had trained Mike out of chivalrous gestures meant to reinforce women's weakness long ago, but Leighton and Michael had their own way of working together. Victoria might not always like it, but she and Leighton let each other make their own choices.
"He's lawyering up," Leighton said. "Not much in the way of excitement here."
The four of them surrounded the john in the elevator, and marched him across the lobby where he kept his head down and the people in the lobby and the near side of the bar didn't look directly at any of them.
After Victoria and Mike made sure the john was secured in the back of Leighton and Michael's car, they split up for the drive back to the precinct.
Mike held up the keys, but Victoria shook her head. "You drive." She got in on the passenger side and tipped her head back against the seat. "Fuck, I hate doing one-offs."
"Got the concierge too."
Victoria closed her eyes. "That was an accident. It's been, what? Three months since we had a real case. The john'll pay his fine and the concierge will try to make some kind of deal, and someone else will move in to exploit the working girls in the hotel."
"Jesus, you're cynical."
Victoria opened her eyes and rolled her head to look at him. "Like you think it's going to be any better."
"Jesus," Mike said again. "I'm glad we have tomorrow off. You should take Gizmo to the park and let little kids pet him."
Victoria said, "Fuck you," without heat and listened to the occasional crackle of the radio for the rest of the drive.
*
"Good work," Lieutenant Beckett said.
Leighton nodded and said, "Thank you, sir," for all four of them. She was sitting straight up in the chair in front of him, while Victoria slouched against the door frame and Mike and Michael stood at what passed for attention with them.
"Captain Wentz will be down here on Wednesday."
Leighton didn't need to turn around to see the way everyone else in the room was suddenly focused on Lieutenant Beckett.
"What for?" Mike asked.
"I suppose he'll tell us when he's here." There was a good chance Beckett didn't know, and an equally good chance he just wasn't saying. "Briefing room, nine a.m. Enjoy your day off."
They took that for the dismissal that it was, and filed out of the room, Victoria first and Michael taking up the rear. Leighton slipped past Mike to catch up to Victoria, who was moving toward the locker room at a brisk clip.
"Think Wentz is actually bringing us something or is he just slumming it with us?"
"If he were slumming it for publicity, he'd be out with the beat cops," Victoria pushed through the locker room doors, and they left Mike and Michael behind. "Let's hope it's something good."
They both opened their lockers, and Victoria seemed to stop there, staring into hers without moving.
Leighton put a hand on her back. "V?"
"I really want a shower," Victoria nearly whined. "But I just want to go home."
Leighton chuckled and pulled her coat and her bag with the clothes she'd worn to the precinct out of her locker. "Let's get out of here. You can shower at home."
Victoria shrugged on her coat, covering up both her dress and everything it didn't cover. Leighton waited until Victoria had her purse and then held the locker room door for her.
Mike and Michael were still lingering on the sidewalk, far enough away from the doors that they could smoke.
"Thought we'd hit a club," Mike said. "You two wanna come?"
Leighton shook her head and glanced to her side to see Victoria doing the same. "Not tonight."
"Ask us next time," Victoria said. She didn't wait for Mike or Michael to answer before starting down the sidewalk.
Leighton waved at the boys and followed Victoria, catching up to her at the corner where she was waiting for the light to change. By the time they headed down the steps into the subway, Leighton was more than ready to be home herself.
*
The good thing about working night shifts was that the subway was never too crowded when they went home. Victoria could sit and lean against Leighton and just listen to the sound of the subway sliding through the tunnel toward home.
Home was a scant two blocks from their stop, and the elevator was working, which meant they didn't have to trek the five flights up. They walked it on a regular basis even when the elevator was running, but not when Victoria was tired from a long day of paperwork followed by pretending to be interested in strangers' advances and tired of one-off jobs that didn't make even the slightest dent in the city's crime.
She barely had the door open before Gizmo was jumping at her. Coming home to Gizmo never failed to put a smile on her face, and tonight was no exception.
"Inside." Victoria could hear Leighton smiling, even as she gently pushed both Victoria and Gizmo all the way into the apartment.
They went only so far that Leighton could close the door, and then Victoria crouched down and let her bag slide to the floor as she accepted Gizmo's sloppy doggy kisses.
"Hi, baby. Did you miss me? I missed you." Victoria scratched behind his ears, and his little tail wagged as fast as it possibly could. She stood up and smiled at Leighton, reached for her.
Leighton kissed her for a long time, every moment of it slow and soft, and when she was done, she asked, "Better?" and Victoria nodded because, yes, that made everything better. "Good." Leighton pressed her close for a moment. "You want me to take Gizmo out?"
Victoria looked down, to where Gizmo was sitting back on his haunches and looking up at them. "No, I'll take him." She stepped back and bent down to clip Gizmo's leash to his collar.
No matter how tired Victoria was, she could always find time for Gizmo, and he ran ahead and came back to her as they walked around the block. By the time they got back to their building, Victoria felt like she'd unwound enough that she would be able to sleep.
Leighton was already in bed, hair damp and lounging in the middle of it like she always did when she was the only one in it.
Victoria kicked her shoes into the closet, dropped her clothes on top of Leighton's in the hamper, and took a brief but scalding shower that left her feeling clean for the first time since she'd left the house earlier in the day. She didn't bother with a nightshirt and she could see Leighton's appreciative once-over before she turned out the light and crawled into bed with her.
Leighton scooted over, making room for her. Victoria settled in against her, feeling Leighton's breasts press into her back, Leighton's knees nudge against the back of her own. Leighton pushed Victoria's hair out of the way to kiss the back of her neck. Victoria smiled into the darkness and reached back to rest her hand on Leighton's thigh.
"We got a couple of people off the street," Leighton said. "Not a totally bad day."
"No, not totally bad." Victoria brushed her hand up and down Leighton's thigh. "Day off tomorrow."
"Yeah. We sleeping in?"
Victoria closed her eyes. "Yeah. We can go running on Wednesday. Blow off some steam before we find out what Wentz wants."
"Sounds good." Leighton kissed the back of her neck again.
Victoria knew she would end up moving after she fell asleep, but she left her hand where it was. She liked to fall asleep touching Leighton deliberately.
*
Leighton woke up to the sound of the bedroom door closing. She opened her eyes, expecting to see an empty room, and instead was greeted with the sight of Victoria's breasts being revealed as she peeled out of her casual dress.
"Hey," Leighton rasped.
Victoria was smiling when she emerged from under the cloth. "Hey." She hung up the dress in the closet and came toward the bed.
Leighton knew Victoria wasn't trying to be particularly sexy, but she was anyway. Leighton drank in the welcoming smile on her face, the fullness of her breasts, the curves of her hips.
"I took Gizmo out." Victoria's voice was soft. "And I picked up bagels for breakfast." She climbed into bed, and Leighton curved around her again.
One of the many things Leighton loved about being with Victoria was that there had never been any posturing about the roles in their relationship. She'd had an ex-girlfriend who objected to being spooned for political reasons, and another who would never vacuum. Victoria wouldn't let Mike hold the door for her unnecessarily, but she would pick up bagels if she was up first, and she never minded Leighton curling around her in bed.
"Thanks." Leighton pressed a kiss to the back of Victoria's neck. Victoria was settling in like she thought they were going back to sleep, but Leighton had felt a flare of disappointment when she'd woken up in bed alone and while she couldn't remember the details, she knew her dreams had included dark hair and messy kisses.
Leighton put her hand on Victoria's hip, and then slid it around to the inside of her thigh and tugged Victoria's leg up just a little, so there was enough room for her fingers.
Victoria mmmed, and moved at her direction, opening up to her and sighing when Leighton pressed her fingers there, just between Victoria's legs. Victoria's breathing got heavier, and she hitched her hips against the pressure of Leighton's touch.
They had the day off, and Leighton didn't want anything more than this, Victoria rocking against her, gasping and sighing when the two of them managed to get everything just right.
"I think I was dreaming about this," Leighton murmured.
"Yeah?" Victoria rocked harder and put her hand over Leighton's, holding them both harder against her cunt.
"Yeah." Leighton pressed her lips to the back of Victoria's neck and kept them there. "About making you come."
Victoria pressed their hands tighter in, moved them a little, and her noises, little uhs and ohs of pleasure, came faster until they dissolved into just her hitching breath and then a last "Oh" that broke in the middle as she came.
Leighton didn't try to move until Victoria let go of her hand, and even then she only let her hand slide along Victoria's skin as Victoria turned over onto her back. Victoria's hair was a messy halo around her head on the pillow and her cheeks were flushed. She was the prettiest thing Leighton had ever seen.
*
"Was that like your dream?" Victoria asked. She liked Leighton dreaming about her.
"Yeah, I think so." Leighton leaned up over her and then came down for a kiss.
Victoria slid her hand up Leighton's side to cup one of her breasts, run a thumb over her nipple. It made Leighton shiver, and Victoria smiled into the kiss.
"Did you get off in this dream?"
"I don't know." Leighton's hair made a curtain around them, the light from the only mostly closed blinds filtering through it and catching the highlights. "I only remember you."
"That doesn't seem fair." Victoria rolled them over so Leighton was on her back with Victoria half lying on her, using one leg to hold Leighton's open. "You should definitely get off."
Leighton smiled up at her. "I can get with that plan." Her fingers brushed over Victoria's cheek as she pushed Victoria's hair behind her ear. "You going to do it for me?"
"When have I ever not?" Victoria nipped at Leighton's neck, knowing that Leighton would arch her head back instead of answering. She could feel Leighton's cunt already wet against her thigh. The day off and nothing to do meant she could take her time, but the pleasure still making her limbs heavy made her want to give that back to Leighton without delay.
Victoria rubbed her thumb over Leighton's nipple again, and then pinched it, twisted it between her fingers.
Leighton gasped, "V," and brought one knee up, making it easier for her to rock against Victoria's thigh.
Victoria switched to the other nipple, watching the flush spread across Leighton's chest. She shifted her weight, pressing more of it onto Leighton, giving her something solid to rub against.
Leighton hissed when Victoria let go of her nipple. She reached between them, and Victoria let up enough to let Leighton get her hand between her body and Victoria's thigh. Victoria missed the feeling of Leighton's cunt directly against her skin, but it was more than worth it for the look of hungry desire it put on Leighton's face.
"Good?"
"Jesus, V, don't stop."
Victoria laughed a little and scraped her teeth over Leighton's throat, not hard enough to leave a mark, as she pinched Leighton's nipple again.
Leighton hitched her hips up so she was pressed harder against Victoria, her knuckles digging into Victoria's thigh, and Victoria rocked down against her, trying to match her rhythm.
"There," Leighton said, "there, don't-"
Victoria stopped moving, focused on tracing light circles over Leighton's breasts while Leighton thrust up against her, pressing harder and harder, and Victoria watched her face for that moment when she was almost there. Then she twisted Leighton's nipple hard between her fingers, and Leighton shuddered against her with a sharp cry.
"Told you I would get you off," Victoria said.
Leighton exhaled what might have been a laugh. "You did."
Victoria could feel her still moving her fingers, no doubt riding out the aftershocks. She watched the way Leighton closed her eyes and the way her mouth was still a little open, like it was so good she had to drag in as much air at once as possible.
"Fuck," Leighton said after a moment, when she opened her eyes and smiled at Victoria. "You are really fucking good in bed."
Victoria rolled to the side, letting Leighton have a little more room on the bed, a little more freedom to move if she wanted to. "I know. It's the reason you'll never leave me."
Leighton laughed and rolled with her, draping an arm over Victoria's waist and holding onto her with a comfortingly possessive touch. "I'll never leave you because I fucking love you. The sex is just a bonus."
*
Leighton and Victoria made their way into the bullpen, coffees in hand, at eight forty-five. Mike and Michael were already there, sitting on the edges of Mike and Victoria's desks and trying to look like they'd been there all morning. Leighton was willing to bet they'd only beat them in by five minutes at the most, and that was only because they actually liked the swill that passed for coffee in the breakroom.
Michael came over to his own desk and sat down across from her as Leighton put her purse away and got herself settled. "Good day off?"
Leighton looked up and across the room at Victoria. Their desks were situated so that they could see each other while Mike and Michael had their backs to each other. "Yeah. It was good. Any word yet on what Captain Wentz wants?"
"Mike reckons it's a case, but Beckett's still not talking."
Of course he wasn't. Beckett liked to keep close counsel when it suited him. "We'd all better hope it's a case. V's getting restless." Leighton flicked on her monitor and logged on. There was the usual collection of departmental crap in her email, and a notice informing them that the john from Monday night had pled out to a misdemeanor. Leighton wasn't happy about it, and Victoria was going to be even worse. She looked up in time to see Victoria making a face at her own monitor.
"Same shit, different day," Mike said. He'd left his desk and was looming over Michael's. "Wentz still isn't here."
Victoria came over to join them and leaned on the edge of Leighton's desk. "He likes to make an entrance."
As if summoned by her words, the door to the bullpen opened, and Captain Wentz came ambling through, followed by Lieutenant Beckett, Lieutenant McCoy from Narcotics, and a pair of men Leighton didn't know but guessed, from the way they were following behind everyone else and the way they were carrying themselves, were also from Narcotics.
"You're all early," Wentz said, beaming at them. "Come on into the briefing room and let's get this show on the road."
*
Victoria pushed off of Leighton's desk and felt a bit like she was stuck in a parade, or a line of ducklings, as they all joined the trek to the briefing room. She couldn't help snorting at the image of Captain Wentz as a mama duck.
"What?" Leighton asked.
Victoria shook her head. "Nothing," and when Leighton threw her a questioning look, added, "I'll tell you later."
There were chairs around the briefing room, and they sat in a curving row, new guys at one end, then Mike, Victoria, Leighton, and Michael. With Beckett and McCoy joining Wentz at the front of the room, it just escaped feeling like they were about to be lectured.
"Introductions first," Beckett said. "You've all met Lieutenant McCoy and Captain Wentz. These are Detectives Andy Mrotek and Adam Siska, from narcotics. These four are Detectives Mike Carden, Victoria Asher, Leighton Meester, and Michael Chislett."
They each raised a hand to identify themselves as Beckett named them, and Mrotek and Siska nodded at them.
Beckett made a go ahead gesture at Wentz, who stepped forward like he owned the place. "Gabe Saporta," he said. He slapped a picture onto the board. It was meant to be impressive, and Victoria reminded herself that he'd had time to put tape on it while Beckett was making the introductions.
The man in the picture was smiling at the camera, the kind of smile that said he knew your most intimate desires and would be happy to indulge you in them. He was also wearing a garishly bright plaid shirt and his hair was a mass of untamed curls.
"Saporta runs a club." Another photo on the wall, this time a storefront deli. "Underground in the literal and figurative sense. Gambling and dancing, that we know of. This is a joint vice and narcotics operation because we think there are drugs too."
"There are definitely drugs," Mrotek said.
"We think there are drugs Saporta knows something about," Wentz amended.
"Look," Mrotek leaned forward, elbows on his knees, "nothing goes on in that club that Saporta doesn't know about. He knows every win, every loss, and every hookup. I guarantee you he knows about the drugs, and he's at least getting a cut off the top if he's not heading up the operation. We just can't prove it."
"Butcher," McCoy said, nodding at Mrotek, "has been undercover in Saporta's club for a couple of weeks. We were hoping to take him down on drugs and let the vice shit fall by the wayside, but it's not working out that way. We can't get enough on him."
"This is where you come in," Beckett said.
Victoria knew, from the way he was looking at them, that he really meant her and Leighton.
"Bill says you have extensive undercover experience," Wentz said. "We want the two of you to go undercover in Saporta's club."
*
Leighton could practically feel Victoria vibrating with excitement. This was a real case, something they could sink their teeth into.
"What's our angle?"
Wentz handed them each a file folder, but it was Mrotek who spoke first.
"Saporta likes his women hot, smart, and bitchy. You say no to him and he'll be all over you. We're hoping he'll be a little stupid about it and let too much slip."
"We've got cover identities in place for both of you that should help with that," Wentz said. "Asher, you're new to town and looking to party. Bill says you have the attitude that can make Saporta interested in you."
Leighton pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Victoria could pull off attitude all right.
"Meester, we're going a different route with you. You're going to be nouveau riche, courtesy of a divorce engineered by a good lawyer, and looking for something to invest in that will pay back big."
"Saporta's not stupid," Mrotek said, "and he's a businessman. We're hoping the lure of an inflow of cash will be enough for him to let you in on the business side of things."
Leighton was already turning that over in her mind, wondering if she could use her parents' history to good advantage in the role. The best identities were the ones that were built on enough truth that she could remember it all at once.
"When do we go in?" Victoria asked.
"Friday," Beckett answered. "You'll be going into Saporta's club. Meester will float around some of the other clubs first. Saporta has eyes and ears all over the city. We're hoping if you hang out elsewhere he'll invite you in."
"Saporta's contacts mean this is a deep cover operation," Wentz said. "You'll have full identities and lives to lead." He nodded at them. "It's in the folders. You won't be able to have contact with your old life or each other. We've got covers in place to let you meet up with Carden and Chislett. They'll be doing whatever you need them to on the outside, but we're going to be relying on you."
"Butcher's on the inside too," McCoy said, "but not as deep. Chances are good Saporta knows he's a cop, so be careful with how close you get."
Leighton tapped a finger against her file folder. "How long?"
"As long as it takes," Wentz said.
"What she means," Victoria said, "is how long should we tell our dog sitter to expect to have Gizmo?"
"Three weeks, minimum," Beckett answered for them. "This is an expensive operation, and we're hoping it won't drag out too long, but tell Anna she can expect to have Gizmo as a long-term guest."
*
Wentz went off with McCoy and Beckett, leaving the rest of them in the briefing room. Victoria opened her folder, and laid it half across her lap and half across Mike's so they could both read it. He was going to need to know what was in it as much as she did. Leighton and Michael were similarly sharing her folder.
"I don't know how much contact we'll be able to have once you're inside," Mrotek said. "So if you want to ask me anything, now's the time."
"Give us a couple of minutes to look this over," Leighton said, saving Victoria the trouble.
Mrotek shrugged, and Victoria tuned him out in favor of reading through the details of her new life. It wasn't too bad; it had been a long time since she was the girl fresh from L.A. and new to New York, but she could remember what that had been like well enough to pull it off.
She did raise her eyebrows at the budget. The brass was serious about this operation if they were throwing that kind of money at it.
Reading every detail over again, enough to have it memorized, could wait. Undercover work was as much about knowing the people involved as it was about knowing the job.
"So," Victoria said, catching Mrotek's attention, "Butcher?"
"Nickname," he answered. "Might as well call me that. It's how Saporta knows me."
Victoria nodded. "Got it. Now, tell us everything you know about Saporta."
"The most important thing you need to know about Saporta is that he's smart. I know him, and he'll come over to congratulate me about a win or some shit, but I'm not even close. I know they're throwing a shitload of money at this, but I don't know if it'll work." Mrotek - Butcher, she was going to have to get used to calling him Butcher, even in her own head - shrugged. "I know sending in a beautiful woman to find out all the villain's secrets is a classic, but," he shrugged again.
"This time there are two of us," Victoria said. "And we're smart too. And we've got hot and bitchy covered. Is there anything else he likes in his women?"
"He has an ex he was serious about, Bianca Dueñas, but I haven't been able to find out much about what she's like personally."
"We did background on her," Siska told them. "We'll get the files to you. She's a buyer in the fashion industry. They met clubbing, but not at his club. Apparently ended because she wanted to settle down and he wanted to party for another couple of years first."
"We'll want to see pictures," Victoria said. She looked back down at the budget for the op. Maybe it wasn't as outrageous as it first appeared; if the ex was in fashion, Victoria and Leighton would have to step up their game.
"I know that look," Mike said. "You're not going to drag us shopping with you, are you?"
"No," Leighton said. "And we shouldn't go ourselves either. We'll have to send someone to pick things up. If Saporta has fashion connections, we don't want to tip him off. We need to dig through everything in every file about this or any other case connected to Saporta. We're not going in there unprepared."
Her easy competence made the base of Victoria's stomach tighten with want. Three weeks, minimum, away from Leighton was going to be the worst part about this operation.
*
"Ready to go?" Victoria asked.
"Almost." Leighton walked through the apartment one more time, making sure everything that needed to be turned off or unplugged actually was. Anna would be by to check on things occasionally, but they might as well make it as easy as possible for her. They already owed her big for taking Gizmo.
"One more thing," she said when she made it back to the door where Victoria was waiting. She pressed in close, one hand threading into Victoria's hair and the other at the small of her back, and kissed her.
Victoria smiled into it and kissed back. It was comfortable and familiar, and she was going to be without it for a while.
"That's your one more thing?" Victoria asked when the kiss ended.
"The most important one." Leighton didn't want to let go of Victoria, but she took her hand out of Victoria's hair anyway and smoothed it down. "I love you."
Victoria stroked her fingers across Leighton's cheek, a touch Leighton leaned into. "Love you too."
Leighton smiled at her, letting her gaze roam across Victoria's face, taking in what it was like now, the softness and slight smile of it. Next time Leighton saw her, she knew, she would look completely different, and it would be a while before she got this again.
"We really have to go," Victoria said, but she was looking back.
Leighton stepped away and turned to pick up her bag. "Okay, let's go." She let Victoria precede her out of the apartment and locked it up behind them.
It was a busy enough time of day that once on the street, they merged into the crowd, and they had to stand on the subway. They had the timing down, though, and they arrived at the precinct exactly on time.
Mike and Michael were standing over Mike's desk, open file folders in front of them, but they both turned at Leighton and Victoria's approach.
"You ready to do this?" Mike asked.
"I was born ready," Victoria said. She hefted her purse up first and emptied it out onto the table, pulling things out and piling them into the waiting box that would be stored in her locker until she got back.
Mike turned the bag upside down and shook it, then went through every one of the pockets, uncovering an old stick of gum, a pair of ticket stubs, and photos from a photo booth that Leighton didn't even remember taking, even though she was in them. The photos and the ticket stubs went into the box. Victoria repacked her purse, clean of anything that would reveal her real identity, and then it was Leighton's turn.
*
Victoria tapped her fingers against the edge of box. She and Leighton had done so much undercover work that it was mostly routine, but they didn't do long-term cover very often, and it always surprised her how much of her life could fit into such a small box.
Lieutenant Beckett emerged from his office just as Leighton put her new ID and cell phone into her thoroughly cleaned bag. "Everything ready?"
"Yes, sir," Michael answered for all of them.
"We just have to store this," Leighton said, "and then we're out of here."
He nodded. "You know everything there is to know about this case. Be careful, and do good work."
"We always do," Victoria said. She picked up her box and waited for Leighton to do the same before heading for the locker room to lock them up. It was their last moment to be alone for a long time. Leighton had to have the same idea, because when Victoria turned to her, Leighton was already looking back.
They'd already said everything they needed to say, and spent half the morning in bed, but Victoria was still grateful for the moment to just take each other in.
"Don't take any stupid chances." Leighton reached across the space between them to brush her fingers against Victoria's.
"You either." Victoria darted in to press her lips against Leighton's in one quick kiss, and then she led the way back to the bullpen. "I'm out of here," she announced to Mike and Michael as soon as they reached it. "Have to go get in costume before I meet the infamous Gabe Saporta."
Mike squeezed her shoulder. "Call us if you need us. See you in three days."
"Three days," Victoria said. She waved to Michael and smiled at Leighton on her way out.
Three blocks away from the precinct, she hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of the building next to the one that held her temporary apartment.
Her new building had a couple of entrances, chosen precisely for its escape routes, and she took one of the less conspicuous ones. She also took the stairs instead of the elevator for the same reason, and arrived in front of 7B without seeing anyone else. That was good; the fewer people who saw her before she transformed herself into the woman she would need to be to get to Saporta the better.
Victoria let herself into the apartment, locked the door behind her, and took a deep breath, taking in the freshly cleaned scent of the place that was going to be her home for three weeks, minimum. Despite the antiseptic cleaning product smell, the place looked entirely lived in. Victoria knew there was a team of people who had taken care of those details, and they had certainly done their job well. If she didn't know better, she would have thought she'd walked into someone else's apartment just after they'd walked out.
*
Leighton shook her head at the extravagance of her new place. A significant portion of the budget for this operation had to be going to the rent on it: a spacious fifteenth-floor apartment in a building where even the hallways had lush carpeting, the elevator never broke, and there was a doorman to receive packages and check in visitors.
Her briefing on her new life had included the tidbit that there was a part-time housekeeper/cook, and the fridge was accordingly filled with meals that only had to be heated up.
Leighton ate one of them, perfectly prepared salmon and the salad that was labeled to go with it, before tackling her transformation into Elle Masters, wealthy divorcee.
The closet was as well stocked as the kitchen, and she only had to choose which dress she wanted to wear. She picked through them and divided them out into two mental categories: Saporta, for anything she thought Saporta would like, based on what they knew of his ex; and Other, for everything else. It would be at least a few days before she went into Saporta's club, so she chose one from the Other category with accessories and makeup to match.
The extravagant divorcee lifestyle came with the budget for cabs, which Leighton was happy to take advantage of. The subway was perfectly fine, but the change was nice, and it meant she could relax in the back of the cab and let herself think through the details of her role.
The place the cab driver left her was a small club with a discrete door, the kind of place frequented only by people who already knew about it. Not that there was anything illegal going on at this location, but it lent it an air of both exclusivity and danger that had to be a thrill to the real divorcees who frequented it.
Leighton, of course, had no problem getting past the bouncer, and she paused just inside, both letting her eyes adjust to the lighting and taking in the place. This particular club was one that Saporta and several of his associates were known to frequent, and while Leighton didn't expect to run into Saporta himself, she did need to start establishing a presence for herself.
She strolled through the place, taking a path that was just indirect enough that much of the club would be able to see her, until she reached the bar. The bartender was no fool, and he came right over to her to take her order. The time it took him to make her Manhattan let Leighton look over the room in the mirror to see who had taken notice of her. There were a few looks being directed her way and one well-dressed man coming across the room.
Leighton took her drink, tipped the bartender heavily, and turned around just in time to let the man think his approach had surprised her.
*
The entrance to Saporta's club was through a door at the back of the small deli from one of Wentz's photographs. Victoria, with Butcher's coaching, gave the code word and paid the cover to the man working the counter. Novarro, according to the files, and part of Saporta's inner circle despite the seemingly low-level job. He'd looked bored when she came in, but had given her a once-over and a surprisingly sweet smile, sweet enough that Victoria half-smiled back, enough to acknowledge it but not enough to break character.
Saporta apparently believed in the theatrical; the staircase was lined with realistic but plastic sides of meat that clubgoers had to pass in order to make it into the club. There was another door at the bottom, one with good soundproofing. The stairs were quiet but for the tapping of Victoria's shoes against the floor, but opening the door unleashed a wave of sound: music, voices, an undertone of clacking roulette wheels and poker chips that carried even over the music.
The place was surprisingly lush, for a club in a basement beneath a deli. It had to occupy the ground beneath more than just the deli, which explained why Saporta owned half the block. There was a fully stocked wooden bar against one wall, an upraised platform along another, DJ booth across from the bar, and gambling tables scattered around the edges of an area that was clearly meant to be the dance floor. Butcher had mentioned poker tables, too, but they weren't in the main room. There was a hallway that no doubt led to the restrooms; perhaps the poker was in a quieter room off the same hallway. Victoria could investigate that later. It wasn't the right area of interest for a first-time visitor to the club.
Instead, she went to the bar and leaned in close to order a rum and Coke. She left the bartender a heavy but not extravagant tip, and worked her way around the dance floor to check out the gambling.
Victoria edged her way into the crowd around a craps game and watched the betting. The croupier was extremely professional. There hadn't been much about Saporta's staff in the briefing materials, but Victoria was willing to bet this guy had worked AC or Vegas before ending up here. It would make sense for Saporta to stock his club with professionals.
She hadn't been watching for more than five minutes or so when Saporta himself slid up to the table. "What you need," he said, throwing his arm around the unlucky man trying his third throw, "is a bit of good luck." He nodded at Victoria. "Why don't you get a lovely lady to blow on those dice for you?"
The guy, who'd started looking discouraged, held out his hand. "Will you?"
Victoria leaned over his hand, gave him a look from under her eyelashes, and blew. The guy didn't look back at the table until the cheering crowd announced his win.
"There you go." Saporta clapped him on the back. "Works every time." He slipped through the crowd and around to Victoria. "Buy you a drink?"
Victoria looked him up and down, taking in his jeans, brightly colored flannel, and white plastic glasses frames. She leaned in close enough to be heard over the music. "I don't accept drinks from strange men."
She walked away from him, downed her drink, and melted into the crowd on the dance floor.
*
Leighton had enough patience that the uselessness of the guy who'd try to pick her up the first night didn't bother her too much. She'd been seen in the club and she'd demonstrated that she was approachable but not willing to go home with the first guy who asked her, both of which were the first step in building up her cover. For the club to really be of any use to her, she'd probably have to go during the week anyway; Saporta and his crew were likely to be at his club on weekends.
The hardest part of her first night as Elle Masters was coming home to an empty apartment and sleeping alone for the first time in a very long time. Even on the rare occasion when Victoria wasn't home, there was Gizmo, who was always excited to partake in the treat of sleeping on the bed. If she was honest with herself, it wasn't Gizmo Leighton missed; it was Victoria. She hadn't worked a case without close, ongoing contact with Victoria since before they'd transferred into Vice.
It took her a long time to fall asleep.
Being a wealthy divorcee had its benefits, however, and one of them was that she could sleep as late as she wanted on Saturday morning, eat breakfast in her robe, and then spend much of the day being pampered at a day spa. The spa was more than just a rich woman's entertainment; Narcotics' background information said that Saporta's ex and at least one of the women connected to one of his crew frequented it, and women undergoing beauty treatments liked to talk. The crowd on Saturday was mostly women with day jobs who couldn't come during the quieter weekdays, but Leighton still might get some good contacts out of it.
"Come out with us tonight," Kelsey, one of the women in a group of five invited Leighton.
Leighton agreed easily, and found herself that evening at a tapas bar in the midst of a cheerfully gossipy group: Kelsey, who was clearly the one who met new people; Stephanie, who was a food writer; Whitney, whose impulse toward cattiness was tempered by the way she clearly cared about the other women; Erika, whose forthrightness made her the one Leighton would most want to be friends with as herself; and Megan, who seemed to fill the role of the quiet one.
"The bartender," Stephanie sighed at one point. "I really think he's the thing that could get me over the pain of my divorce."
Leighton joined the other women in laughing.
"You're out of luck anyway," Whitney said. "Steven and I were in here last week, and we ran into Bianca. She's getting over the pain with the bartender."
Erika winced, and explained to Leighton, "Bianca broke up with a guy she really loved a couple of months ago. They'd been together for four and a half years. It was brutal."
Leighton nodded. "Divorced. I know how that goes." Inside, her mind was racing. If their Bianca was Bianca Dueñas, there had to be a way she could make this useful to her.
*
Victoria decided that she was the kind of party girl who would go back to the same place a second night, and not just because it was her job. She dressed accordingly, paid the cover to Novarro, and descended into the controlled chaos of the club.
Instead of heading for the bar or the dance floor, she made her first stop the cashier to pick up a stack of chips. Every table was as full as they had been on Friday, with the dance floor even more so. Her best chance to actually place a bet was the roulette table.
Victoria had enough practice making her presence unavoidable that she was able to work her way from the back of the crowd to the edge of the table relatively quickly.
She started by putting a few chips down on black, just as a warm-up. She wasn't averse to riskier bets, but she was there to see and be seen, and the more chips she had the longer she could play. The ball landed on black, and once she'd collected her winnings, she eyed the table and the players around it and bet on seventeen.
"So you're a risk-taker," a voice said close to her ear. Victoria hadn't been watching the people around her too closely - she was trying to blend in enough that her presence would be remarkable for reasons other than that there was something wrong about her - and Saporta had managed to reach her side without her notice.
"I can be," she answered without looking away from the table.
"And yet you wouldn't let me buy you a drink."
"I told you, I don't accept drinks from strange men."
The ball landed on twenty-five, and Victoria made a face as the croupier raked her chips in with the rest.
"I'm Gabe Saporta," Saporta said. "Now I'm not a strange man."
"Strange enough." Victoria still didn't look at him, instead watching the croupier pay out bets.
"I own this place."
At that, Victoria did turn. He'd traded the glasses for contacts and the brightly colored flannel for one in a more subdued red and black.
"Really? It's a good club." She held out her hand. "Victoria Teague."
Instead of shaking her hand, he bent over it and brushed his lips over the back of it. On some men, it would have been sleazy. On Saporta it was charming.
"Nice to meet you, Vicky-T. Can I buy you that drink now?"
Victoria glanced at the table, then turned fully away from it. "One drink," she agreed. "But shouldn't you be encouraging people to gamble?"
Saporta put his arm through hers and drew her away from the table. "A drink with me is only going to make you more likely to come back."
*
"So what happened, if you don't mind me asking?" The question came, not unexpectedly, from Erika.
"Left me for the younger secretary," Leighton said. "But I had a better lawyer, so now she's pretty much all he's got."
"Ouch," Kelsey said.
"Pretty much." Leighton swirled her glass, watching the fruit move in the small whirlpool of her sangria. "But now I'm rich and totally free to start a new life."
"Hear, hear." Stephanie raised her glass, and the other women followed suit, Leighton joining in with a grin.
"So what does your new life look like?" Whitney asked. "Aside from meeting a bunch of awesome women like us, of course."
Leighton put her glass down. "Something more exciting than being a stock broker's wife. I've been thinking about investing, not stocks, obviously, but something more interesting, like a club or a restaurant or something." She was going to have to be more direct about that in other places to attract Saporta's attention, but the softer sell would blend better with this group.
"Not a restaurant," Megan advised. "Trust me. My last ex had a restaurant. It's so much work. I barely saw him. If you want a life, try a club."
"I dated a guy who managed a club," Stephanie said. "It was great - we always got in and our drinks were free." She looked at the empty pitcher, then the bar. "Are you sure the bartender's dating Bianca?"
Whitney laughed. "Pretty sure. You know Bianca. I can't imagine her having just a fling on purpose."
Stephanie sighed. "I was so looking forward to someone dulling the pain for me."
"What you don't know," Erika mock-confided to Leighton, "is that Stephanie's been divorced for four years."
"The pain," Stephanie said, completely deadpan, "never ends."
It drew a laugh from the rest of the table, but Leighton didn't join in. She was supposed to be newly divorced, after all, and she could imagine that if she and Victoria were to ever break up, the pain might not end.
Kelsey put her hand on Leighton's arm. "You'll have to learn not to mind us. None of us have been through a breakup recently. They're all old hurts."
Leighton nodded, because she understood and because Elle Masters would understand.
Megan looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "Maybe we should call Bianca. You can compare stories." She flashed a smile at Stephanie. "And we can get the scoop on the bartender."
Erika already had her phone out. "I'll do it."
Leighton couldn't believe it had been that easy.
*
Victoria was frankly amazed with the speed the bartender got their drinks. She wasn't sure if it was just prudence on his part or if it was indicative of what Saporta expected from his employees, but she wasn't about to complain either way.
Saporta ordered Red Bull and vodka, and Victoria made a face at him that made him laugh.
"Don't knock it till you try it."
"I'll stick to this, thanks," she said, holding up her rum and Coke.
"Maybe tonight," he said, "but I'll get you to try this." There wasn't the slightest bit of hesitation in it. He sipped his drink, never taking his eyes off of her. "So what brings you to my club, Victoria Teague?"
"What brings anyone here? I like to party." Victoria turned half away from him, enough to watch the room but not enough that she couldn't also watch him. The look on his face was edging toward frustration, but she was betting on Butcher's information being right and that it was the kind of frustration that would keep him interested.
"So where'd you hear about my club?" Saporta clearly wasn't the type to give up after half a brush off.
"Oh, a friend of mine, Adrian?" Victoria let her voice tilt the name up into a question. "When he heard I was moving to New York, he told me I had to come here." It helped that she actually did know Adrian and that he was bicoastal, giving truth to the lie.
Victoria was careful not to fidget under Saporta's steady gaze. Adrian had actually been to Saporta's club once, but he wasn't a regular; had, in fact, been one of the people to tip off the department that it might be worth investigating.
"Don't think I know him."
"I'm not sure it's really his kind of place. I mean, he'll go out with people, but," Victoria shrugged, "his parents met at a commune, so, you know. Not so much with the decadent partying."
"But you are." The corners of Saporta's mouth turned up in a small, surprisingly sweet smile.
"'Decadent partying' is practically my middle name."
Saporta's smile turned into an all out grin. Victoria didn't even think about it before she turned so she was looking more at him than at the room.
"Were your parents from some kind of alternative culture too?"
Victoria returned his grin. "No. My real middle name's Jane, and I'm not sure my parents would quite approve of this."
"Which part?" Saporta asked. "The drinking, the gambling, the rampant partying?"
"Oh, all of that," she said, "but mostly I was thinking of letting strange men buy me drinks." Victoria swallowed the last of her drink and put the glass on the bar. "But I appreciate it. Thank you." She pushed herself off of her bar stool and walked away from Saporta for the second time in two days. Butcher had better have been right about him.
When she got to the roulette table and turned enough to see him through the crowd, he was still sitting at the bar, sipping his drink and watching her. She stopped watching back and placed a bet.
*
"There's Bianca," Whitney said.
Leighton turned to look at the woman coming through the door. She recognized her, of course, from the file on her, but Elle didn't know her, so Leighton took her in as if she were seeing her for the first time. A little taller than Leighton, but not as tall as Victoria. Expensively dressed, high heels, wavy blond hair.
Dueñas waved at them but went to the bar first. The whole group of women watched her as she ordered a drink and leaned across the bar to get a kiss from the bartender.
Stephanie heaved a sigh of disappointment.
Erika swatted at her arm. "Stop that."
Dueñas reached them and put her drink down on the table before making her way around to hug everyone.
"This is Elle," Kelsey said. "We met her at the spa today. Elle, this is Bianca."
"Nice to meet you," Leighton said, meaning every word of it.
"So," Stephanie said, "we all hope you're doing well and all of that, but what we really want to know is: what's the story with the bartender?"
"What Stephanie means," Erika said while the others were laughing, "is that she's jealous you got there first."
Dueñas glanced back at the bar before answering. "His name's Antonio." The smile on her face said he was more than just a name, but the name was what Leighton noted. She would give it to Michael when she saw him. Maybe he was just an innocent bystander, but maybe there was something there she needed to know.
"How'd you meet him?" Whitney asked.
"Some friends from work and I came in here one night, and he gave me his number." Dueñas tucked her hair back. "I know a lot of bartenders, and they're more likely to get numbers than give them."
"Bianca's ex owns a club," Megan explained to Leighton.
"Really?" Leighton leaned forward. "I'm thinking about investing in a club."
"Elle got everything in the divorce," Kelsey said to Dueñas.
"A club's not a bad idea," Dueñas said. "Good ones make steady money, and even ones that fail will get you in the door in the scene. Actually, you should talk to Gabe. My ex. He might know of something, or he was talking about expanding." She lowered her voice a little. "His club isn't entirely aboveboard. It's sort of half dancing and half gambling, but if you don't mind that kind of thing."
"I definitely don't," Leighton said. "I was married to a stock broker, and now I'm looking to have some fun."
"Give me your number," Dueñas said, handing over her phone. "I'll let him know you're looking to invest and get him to call you."
Leighton watched the other women out of the corner of her eye as she put her number into Dueñas's phone. They were practically vibrating with curiosity.
Surprisingly it was Megan who asked, "You still talk to Gabe?"
Something in Dueñas's face changed, and she was no longer the cool, confident woman who'd joined them. She looked softer, almost wistful.
"Yeah, well, just because we aren't together doesn't mean I don't love him."
*
Victoria's buzzer rang on Sunday afternoon just as she was trying to decide what Victoria Teague would do with herself on a Sunday. There was a theater showing independent films that she thought might be worth the trek, or she could order Chinese food and watch TV.
When the voice coming through the speaker said, "Flower delivery for Victoria Teague," Victoria hesitated a moment. It could be flowers, or it could be a cover for something else. Victoria Teague, she thought, would be naive enough - or reckless enough - to buzz a delivery up instead of getting it herself, and Victoria Asher could take care of herself.
She kept the locks on, though, and peered through the peephole to be sure the guy was actually carrying flowers before she opened the door just wide enough to sign for them and take the vase from him. It was easier than she thought to sign "Victoria Teague."
The flowers themselves were a simple arrangement of purple tulips set against smooth lengths of greenery, with a matching purple ribbon around the vase and an envelope held in a bit of plastic in the middle of them. Victoria set the vase down on the kitchen counter and opened the envelope.You're a mystery, Victoria Teague, and I'm fond of mysteries. Come to the club on Tuesday. It'll be quiet. We can talk.
♥,
Gabe
Victoria put the note down on the counter. She'd told him nothing more than her name and that she was new in town, and he'd found where she lived in less than twenty-four hours. Butcher was definitely right about the extent of Saporta's knowledge of what happened in his club. He also, it seemed, was right about how to attract Saporta's attention.
Victoria herself found it creepy, but Victoria Teague might like it. She was a party girl, after all, and a risk-taker who was willing to flirt with strangers when it suited her.
Victoria moved the flowers around the apartment, trying to figure out where they looked best, while she worked her way around the question. The hardest part was trying to separate out what Victoria Teague might want from her own eagerness to get on with the next phase of her case. The faster she could get close to Saporta the faster she could get the evidence they needed to take him down.
The flowers would really look best on the dresser in the bedroom, but Victoria couldn't bring herself to put them there. She didn't need Saporta that far inside her personal space. She settled for putting them on the end table in the living room.
Saporta liked that Victoria was a mystery, so she would continue to be one. She would go back to the club on a night that was likely to be quiet, but not Tuesday. It wouldn't do to be at his beck and call.
*
Leighton's phone rang on Monday afternoon just as she was taking her coffee from the barista at the Starbucks just around the corner from her apartment. She answered it with a crisp, "Elle Masters," and ducked around the two other people waiting.
"Elle," an unfamiliar male voice said, "this is Gabe Saporta. Bianca said you were interested in investing in a club."
Leighton settled into a chair at a table near the window. There were a handful of magazines in her bag she'd been planning to read, but this was better.
"That's right." Victoria could play hard to get, and Leighton would say no to any advances he might make, but when it came to business, she needed to be direct. "You must be the ex who owns one."
"That's me. Bianca seems to think you're worth talking to, which means I'll give you a chance. Can you meet me for a drink tonight?"
"I'm sorry," Leighton said, "I'm busy tonight." That wasn't even a lie, so if Saporta decided to check up on her it would hold up. "How about tomorrow?"
"I have plans tomorrow evening. Wednesday?"
"Wednesday will be fine. Where should I meet you?"
"Coldman's," Saporta said. "Do you know where it is?"
Leighton did - it was on her list of places to be seen to get in with Saporta's crowd - but Elle wouldn't. "Never even heard of it," she said cheerfully, and pretended to be taking notes while Saporta gave her an address.
"Six-thirty," Saporta said.
"Sounds perfect. Thank you for agreeing to this."
"Don't thank me," Saporta said, "thank Bianca. She's the one who got you this far, and I might not be able to help you. See you Wednesday." He hung up with a click, and Leighton shook her head at her phone as she put it down on the table. He was proving to be a presumptuous ass as well as a criminal. Leighton sipped her coffee and gazed out the window, automatically noting but not really paying attention to the people passing by. She really hadn't expected to meet Saporta quite so quickly. The original plan had called for her to slowly work her way into his acquaintance. If Victoria was doing half as well as she was, they might wrap this case up and be home in no time.
Leighton shook her head at herself and pulled her stack of magazines out of her purse. Four days in and she was already wishing for her own bed and Victoria. Michael would be sympathetic if she told him, but he'd tell Mike who would roll his eyes at their domesticity. Of course, he'd probably also tell Victoria, and Leighton had no problem with Victoria knowing she missed her.
Part 2
"Just one second," Victoria said with a smile. She turned away from the john to rummage through her purse, and she knew Leighton was doing the same thing on the other side of him. When she turned around, Leighton had her hand closed over something and she was smiling, smirking really.
Victoria held up her badge, and Leighton opened her hand to show the john hers too. "NYPD. You're under arrest."
They always protested, always, and it never did them any good. They knew prostitution was illegal, and they picked up hookers up in hotel bars anyway.
Leighton had the cuffs in her other hand. She cuffed the john while Victoria read him his rights, and by the time Mike and Michael showed up outside the door, he'd been properly Mirandized and shut up in favor of asking for a lawyer, which made him smarter than a good sixty percent of the scumbags they arrested.
"Got the concierge too," Mike told them when they led the john out of the room. "Had a uni take him in."
Victoria nodded shortly. "We're all going there anyway; we could have taken them both in."
"We didn't want to miss any of the excitement," Michael said. He pulled the door shut behind Leighton. He was always doing that kind of thing; Victoria had trained Mike out of chivalrous gestures meant to reinforce women's weakness long ago, but Leighton and Michael had their own way of working together. Victoria might not always like it, but she and Leighton let each other make their own choices.
"He's lawyering up," Leighton said. "Not much in the way of excitement here."
The four of them surrounded the john in the elevator, and marched him across the lobby where he kept his head down and the people in the lobby and the near side of the bar didn't look directly at any of them.
After Victoria and Mike made sure the john was secured in the back of Leighton and Michael's car, they split up for the drive back to the precinct.
Mike held up the keys, but Victoria shook her head. "You drive." She got in on the passenger side and tipped her head back against the seat. "Fuck, I hate doing one-offs."
"Got the concierge too."
Victoria closed her eyes. "That was an accident. It's been, what? Three months since we had a real case. The john'll pay his fine and the concierge will try to make some kind of deal, and someone else will move in to exploit the working girls in the hotel."
"Jesus, you're cynical."
Victoria opened her eyes and rolled her head to look at him. "Like you think it's going to be any better."
"Jesus," Mike said again. "I'm glad we have tomorrow off. You should take Gizmo to the park and let little kids pet him."
Victoria said, "Fuck you," without heat and listened to the occasional crackle of the radio for the rest of the drive.
*
"Good work," Lieutenant Beckett said.
Leighton nodded and said, "Thank you, sir," for all four of them. She was sitting straight up in the chair in front of him, while Victoria slouched against the door frame and Mike and Michael stood at what passed for attention with them.
"Captain Wentz will be down here on Wednesday."
Leighton didn't need to turn around to see the way everyone else in the room was suddenly focused on Lieutenant Beckett.
"What for?" Mike asked.
"I suppose he'll tell us when he's here." There was a good chance Beckett didn't know, and an equally good chance he just wasn't saying. "Briefing room, nine a.m. Enjoy your day off."
They took that for the dismissal that it was, and filed out of the room, Victoria first and Michael taking up the rear. Leighton slipped past Mike to catch up to Victoria, who was moving toward the locker room at a brisk clip.
"Think Wentz is actually bringing us something or is he just slumming it with us?"
"If he were slumming it for publicity, he'd be out with the beat cops," Victoria pushed through the locker room doors, and they left Mike and Michael behind. "Let's hope it's something good."
They both opened their lockers, and Victoria seemed to stop there, staring into hers without moving.
Leighton put a hand on her back. "V?"
"I really want a shower," Victoria nearly whined. "But I just want to go home."
Leighton chuckled and pulled her coat and her bag with the clothes she'd worn to the precinct out of her locker. "Let's get out of here. You can shower at home."
Victoria shrugged on her coat, covering up both her dress and everything it didn't cover. Leighton waited until Victoria had her purse and then held the locker room door for her.
Mike and Michael were still lingering on the sidewalk, far enough away from the doors that they could smoke.
"Thought we'd hit a club," Mike said. "You two wanna come?"
Leighton shook her head and glanced to her side to see Victoria doing the same. "Not tonight."
"Ask us next time," Victoria said. She didn't wait for Mike or Michael to answer before starting down the sidewalk.
Leighton waved at the boys and followed Victoria, catching up to her at the corner where she was waiting for the light to change. By the time they headed down the steps into the subway, Leighton was more than ready to be home herself.
*
The good thing about working night shifts was that the subway was never too crowded when they went home. Victoria could sit and lean against Leighton and just listen to the sound of the subway sliding through the tunnel toward home.
Home was a scant two blocks from their stop, and the elevator was working, which meant they didn't have to trek the five flights up. They walked it on a regular basis even when the elevator was running, but not when Victoria was tired from a long day of paperwork followed by pretending to be interested in strangers' advances and tired of one-off jobs that didn't make even the slightest dent in the city's crime.
She barely had the door open before Gizmo was jumping at her. Coming home to Gizmo never failed to put a smile on her face, and tonight was no exception.
"Inside." Victoria could hear Leighton smiling, even as she gently pushed both Victoria and Gizmo all the way into the apartment.
They went only so far that Leighton could close the door, and then Victoria crouched down and let her bag slide to the floor as she accepted Gizmo's sloppy doggy kisses.
"Hi, baby. Did you miss me? I missed you." Victoria scratched behind his ears, and his little tail wagged as fast as it possibly could. She stood up and smiled at Leighton, reached for her.
Leighton kissed her for a long time, every moment of it slow and soft, and when she was done, she asked, "Better?" and Victoria nodded because, yes, that made everything better. "Good." Leighton pressed her close for a moment. "You want me to take Gizmo out?"
Victoria looked down, to where Gizmo was sitting back on his haunches and looking up at them. "No, I'll take him." She stepped back and bent down to clip Gizmo's leash to his collar.
No matter how tired Victoria was, she could always find time for Gizmo, and he ran ahead and came back to her as they walked around the block. By the time they got back to their building, Victoria felt like she'd unwound enough that she would be able to sleep.
Leighton was already in bed, hair damp and lounging in the middle of it like she always did when she was the only one in it.
Victoria kicked her shoes into the closet, dropped her clothes on top of Leighton's in the hamper, and took a brief but scalding shower that left her feeling clean for the first time since she'd left the house earlier in the day. She didn't bother with a nightshirt and she could see Leighton's appreciative once-over before she turned out the light and crawled into bed with her.
Leighton scooted over, making room for her. Victoria settled in against her, feeling Leighton's breasts press into her back, Leighton's knees nudge against the back of her own. Leighton pushed Victoria's hair out of the way to kiss the back of her neck. Victoria smiled into the darkness and reached back to rest her hand on Leighton's thigh.
"We got a couple of people off the street," Leighton said. "Not a totally bad day."
"No, not totally bad." Victoria brushed her hand up and down Leighton's thigh. "Day off tomorrow."
"Yeah. We sleeping in?"
Victoria closed her eyes. "Yeah. We can go running on Wednesday. Blow off some steam before we find out what Wentz wants."
"Sounds good." Leighton kissed the back of her neck again.
Victoria knew she would end up moving after she fell asleep, but she left her hand where it was. She liked to fall asleep touching Leighton deliberately.
*
Leighton woke up to the sound of the bedroom door closing. She opened her eyes, expecting to see an empty room, and instead was greeted with the sight of Victoria's breasts being revealed as she peeled out of her casual dress.
"Hey," Leighton rasped.
Victoria was smiling when she emerged from under the cloth. "Hey." She hung up the dress in the closet and came toward the bed.
Leighton knew Victoria wasn't trying to be particularly sexy, but she was anyway. Leighton drank in the welcoming smile on her face, the fullness of her breasts, the curves of her hips.
"I took Gizmo out." Victoria's voice was soft. "And I picked up bagels for breakfast." She climbed into bed, and Leighton curved around her again.
One of the many things Leighton loved about being with Victoria was that there had never been any posturing about the roles in their relationship. She'd had an ex-girlfriend who objected to being spooned for political reasons, and another who would never vacuum. Victoria wouldn't let Mike hold the door for her unnecessarily, but she would pick up bagels if she was up first, and she never minded Leighton curling around her in bed.
"Thanks." Leighton pressed a kiss to the back of Victoria's neck. Victoria was settling in like she thought they were going back to sleep, but Leighton had felt a flare of disappointment when she'd woken up in bed alone and while she couldn't remember the details, she knew her dreams had included dark hair and messy kisses.
Leighton put her hand on Victoria's hip, and then slid it around to the inside of her thigh and tugged Victoria's leg up just a little, so there was enough room for her fingers.
Victoria mmmed, and moved at her direction, opening up to her and sighing when Leighton pressed her fingers there, just between Victoria's legs. Victoria's breathing got heavier, and she hitched her hips against the pressure of Leighton's touch.
They had the day off, and Leighton didn't want anything more than this, Victoria rocking against her, gasping and sighing when the two of them managed to get everything just right.
"I think I was dreaming about this," Leighton murmured.
"Yeah?" Victoria rocked harder and put her hand over Leighton's, holding them both harder against her cunt.
"Yeah." Leighton pressed her lips to the back of Victoria's neck and kept them there. "About making you come."
Victoria pressed their hands tighter in, moved them a little, and her noises, little uhs and ohs of pleasure, came faster until they dissolved into just her hitching breath and then a last "Oh" that broke in the middle as she came.
Leighton didn't try to move until Victoria let go of her hand, and even then she only let her hand slide along Victoria's skin as Victoria turned over onto her back. Victoria's hair was a messy halo around her head on the pillow and her cheeks were flushed. She was the prettiest thing Leighton had ever seen.
*
"Was that like your dream?" Victoria asked. She liked Leighton dreaming about her.
"Yeah, I think so." Leighton leaned up over her and then came down for a kiss.
Victoria slid her hand up Leighton's side to cup one of her breasts, run a thumb over her nipple. It made Leighton shiver, and Victoria smiled into the kiss.
"Did you get off in this dream?"
"I don't know." Leighton's hair made a curtain around them, the light from the only mostly closed blinds filtering through it and catching the highlights. "I only remember you."
"That doesn't seem fair." Victoria rolled them over so Leighton was on her back with Victoria half lying on her, using one leg to hold Leighton's open. "You should definitely get off."
Leighton smiled up at her. "I can get with that plan." Her fingers brushed over Victoria's cheek as she pushed Victoria's hair behind her ear. "You going to do it for me?"
"When have I ever not?" Victoria nipped at Leighton's neck, knowing that Leighton would arch her head back instead of answering. She could feel Leighton's cunt already wet against her thigh. The day off and nothing to do meant she could take her time, but the pleasure still making her limbs heavy made her want to give that back to Leighton without delay.
Victoria rubbed her thumb over Leighton's nipple again, and then pinched it, twisted it between her fingers.
Leighton gasped, "V," and brought one knee up, making it easier for her to rock against Victoria's thigh.
Victoria switched to the other nipple, watching the flush spread across Leighton's chest. She shifted her weight, pressing more of it onto Leighton, giving her something solid to rub against.
Leighton hissed when Victoria let go of her nipple. She reached between them, and Victoria let up enough to let Leighton get her hand between her body and Victoria's thigh. Victoria missed the feeling of Leighton's cunt directly against her skin, but it was more than worth it for the look of hungry desire it put on Leighton's face.
"Good?"
"Jesus, V, don't stop."
Victoria laughed a little and scraped her teeth over Leighton's throat, not hard enough to leave a mark, as she pinched Leighton's nipple again.
Leighton hitched her hips up so she was pressed harder against Victoria, her knuckles digging into Victoria's thigh, and Victoria rocked down against her, trying to match her rhythm.
"There," Leighton said, "there, don't-"
Victoria stopped moving, focused on tracing light circles over Leighton's breasts while Leighton thrust up against her, pressing harder and harder, and Victoria watched her face for that moment when she was almost there. Then she twisted Leighton's nipple hard between her fingers, and Leighton shuddered against her with a sharp cry.
"Told you I would get you off," Victoria said.
Leighton exhaled what might have been a laugh. "You did."
Victoria could feel her still moving her fingers, no doubt riding out the aftershocks. She watched the way Leighton closed her eyes and the way her mouth was still a little open, like it was so good she had to drag in as much air at once as possible.
"Fuck," Leighton said after a moment, when she opened her eyes and smiled at Victoria. "You are really fucking good in bed."
Victoria rolled to the side, letting Leighton have a little more room on the bed, a little more freedom to move if she wanted to. "I know. It's the reason you'll never leave me."
Leighton laughed and rolled with her, draping an arm over Victoria's waist and holding onto her with a comfortingly possessive touch. "I'll never leave you because I fucking love you. The sex is just a bonus."
*
Leighton and Victoria made their way into the bullpen, coffees in hand, at eight forty-five. Mike and Michael were already there, sitting on the edges of Mike and Victoria's desks and trying to look like they'd been there all morning. Leighton was willing to bet they'd only beat them in by five minutes at the most, and that was only because they actually liked the swill that passed for coffee in the breakroom.
Michael came over to his own desk and sat down across from her as Leighton put her purse away and got herself settled. "Good day off?"
Leighton looked up and across the room at Victoria. Their desks were situated so that they could see each other while Mike and Michael had their backs to each other. "Yeah. It was good. Any word yet on what Captain Wentz wants?"
"Mike reckons it's a case, but Beckett's still not talking."
Of course he wasn't. Beckett liked to keep close counsel when it suited him. "We'd all better hope it's a case. V's getting restless." Leighton flicked on her monitor and logged on. There was the usual collection of departmental crap in her email, and a notice informing them that the john from Monday night had pled out to a misdemeanor. Leighton wasn't happy about it, and Victoria was going to be even worse. She looked up in time to see Victoria making a face at her own monitor.
"Same shit, different day," Mike said. He'd left his desk and was looming over Michael's. "Wentz still isn't here."
Victoria came over to join them and leaned on the edge of Leighton's desk. "He likes to make an entrance."
As if summoned by her words, the door to the bullpen opened, and Captain Wentz came ambling through, followed by Lieutenant Beckett, Lieutenant McCoy from Narcotics, and a pair of men Leighton didn't know but guessed, from the way they were following behind everyone else and the way they were carrying themselves, were also from Narcotics.
"You're all early," Wentz said, beaming at them. "Come on into the briefing room and let's get this show on the road."
*
Victoria pushed off of Leighton's desk and felt a bit like she was stuck in a parade, or a line of ducklings, as they all joined the trek to the briefing room. She couldn't help snorting at the image of Captain Wentz as a mama duck.
"What?" Leighton asked.
Victoria shook her head. "Nothing," and when Leighton threw her a questioning look, added, "I'll tell you later."
There were chairs around the briefing room, and they sat in a curving row, new guys at one end, then Mike, Victoria, Leighton, and Michael. With Beckett and McCoy joining Wentz at the front of the room, it just escaped feeling like they were about to be lectured.
"Introductions first," Beckett said. "You've all met Lieutenant McCoy and Captain Wentz. These are Detectives Andy Mrotek and Adam Siska, from narcotics. These four are Detectives Mike Carden, Victoria Asher, Leighton Meester, and Michael Chislett."
They each raised a hand to identify themselves as Beckett named them, and Mrotek and Siska nodded at them.
Beckett made a go ahead gesture at Wentz, who stepped forward like he owned the place. "Gabe Saporta," he said. He slapped a picture onto the board. It was meant to be impressive, and Victoria reminded herself that he'd had time to put tape on it while Beckett was making the introductions.
The man in the picture was smiling at the camera, the kind of smile that said he knew your most intimate desires and would be happy to indulge you in them. He was also wearing a garishly bright plaid shirt and his hair was a mass of untamed curls.
"Saporta runs a club." Another photo on the wall, this time a storefront deli. "Underground in the literal and figurative sense. Gambling and dancing, that we know of. This is a joint vice and narcotics operation because we think there are drugs too."
"There are definitely drugs," Mrotek said.
"We think there are drugs Saporta knows something about," Wentz amended.
"Look," Mrotek leaned forward, elbows on his knees, "nothing goes on in that club that Saporta doesn't know about. He knows every win, every loss, and every hookup. I guarantee you he knows about the drugs, and he's at least getting a cut off the top if he's not heading up the operation. We just can't prove it."
"Butcher," McCoy said, nodding at Mrotek, "has been undercover in Saporta's club for a couple of weeks. We were hoping to take him down on drugs and let the vice shit fall by the wayside, but it's not working out that way. We can't get enough on him."
"This is where you come in," Beckett said.
Victoria knew, from the way he was looking at them, that he really meant her and Leighton.
"Bill says you have extensive undercover experience," Wentz said. "We want the two of you to go undercover in Saporta's club."
*
Leighton could practically feel Victoria vibrating with excitement. This was a real case, something they could sink their teeth into.
"What's our angle?"
Wentz handed them each a file folder, but it was Mrotek who spoke first.
"Saporta likes his women hot, smart, and bitchy. You say no to him and he'll be all over you. We're hoping he'll be a little stupid about it and let too much slip."
"We've got cover identities in place for both of you that should help with that," Wentz said. "Asher, you're new to town and looking to party. Bill says you have the attitude that can make Saporta interested in you."
Leighton pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Victoria could pull off attitude all right.
"Meester, we're going a different route with you. You're going to be nouveau riche, courtesy of a divorce engineered by a good lawyer, and looking for something to invest in that will pay back big."
"Saporta's not stupid," Mrotek said, "and he's a businessman. We're hoping the lure of an inflow of cash will be enough for him to let you in on the business side of things."
Leighton was already turning that over in her mind, wondering if she could use her parents' history to good advantage in the role. The best identities were the ones that were built on enough truth that she could remember it all at once.
"When do we go in?" Victoria asked.
"Friday," Beckett answered. "You'll be going into Saporta's club. Meester will float around some of the other clubs first. Saporta has eyes and ears all over the city. We're hoping if you hang out elsewhere he'll invite you in."
"Saporta's contacts mean this is a deep cover operation," Wentz said. "You'll have full identities and lives to lead." He nodded at them. "It's in the folders. You won't be able to have contact with your old life or each other. We've got covers in place to let you meet up with Carden and Chislett. They'll be doing whatever you need them to on the outside, but we're going to be relying on you."
"Butcher's on the inside too," McCoy said, "but not as deep. Chances are good Saporta knows he's a cop, so be careful with how close you get."
Leighton tapped a finger against her file folder. "How long?"
"As long as it takes," Wentz said.
"What she means," Victoria said, "is how long should we tell our dog sitter to expect to have Gizmo?"
"Three weeks, minimum," Beckett answered for them. "This is an expensive operation, and we're hoping it won't drag out too long, but tell Anna she can expect to have Gizmo as a long-term guest."
*
Wentz went off with McCoy and Beckett, leaving the rest of them in the briefing room. Victoria opened her folder, and laid it half across her lap and half across Mike's so they could both read it. He was going to need to know what was in it as much as she did. Leighton and Michael were similarly sharing her folder.
"I don't know how much contact we'll be able to have once you're inside," Mrotek said. "So if you want to ask me anything, now's the time."
"Give us a couple of minutes to look this over," Leighton said, saving Victoria the trouble.
Mrotek shrugged, and Victoria tuned him out in favor of reading through the details of her new life. It wasn't too bad; it had been a long time since she was the girl fresh from L.A. and new to New York, but she could remember what that had been like well enough to pull it off.
She did raise her eyebrows at the budget. The brass was serious about this operation if they were throwing that kind of money at it.
Reading every detail over again, enough to have it memorized, could wait. Undercover work was as much about knowing the people involved as it was about knowing the job.
"So," Victoria said, catching Mrotek's attention, "Butcher?"
"Nickname," he answered. "Might as well call me that. It's how Saporta knows me."
Victoria nodded. "Got it. Now, tell us everything you know about Saporta."
"The most important thing you need to know about Saporta is that he's smart. I know him, and he'll come over to congratulate me about a win or some shit, but I'm not even close. I know they're throwing a shitload of money at this, but I don't know if it'll work." Mrotek - Butcher, she was going to have to get used to calling him Butcher, even in her own head - shrugged. "I know sending in a beautiful woman to find out all the villain's secrets is a classic, but," he shrugged again.
"This time there are two of us," Victoria said. "And we're smart too. And we've got hot and bitchy covered. Is there anything else he likes in his women?"
"He has an ex he was serious about, Bianca Dueñas, but I haven't been able to find out much about what she's like personally."
"We did background on her," Siska told them. "We'll get the files to you. She's a buyer in the fashion industry. They met clubbing, but not at his club. Apparently ended because she wanted to settle down and he wanted to party for another couple of years first."
"We'll want to see pictures," Victoria said. She looked back down at the budget for the op. Maybe it wasn't as outrageous as it first appeared; if the ex was in fashion, Victoria and Leighton would have to step up their game.
"I know that look," Mike said. "You're not going to drag us shopping with you, are you?"
"No," Leighton said. "And we shouldn't go ourselves either. We'll have to send someone to pick things up. If Saporta has fashion connections, we don't want to tip him off. We need to dig through everything in every file about this or any other case connected to Saporta. We're not going in there unprepared."
Her easy competence made the base of Victoria's stomach tighten with want. Three weeks, minimum, away from Leighton was going to be the worst part about this operation.
*
"Ready to go?" Victoria asked.
"Almost." Leighton walked through the apartment one more time, making sure everything that needed to be turned off or unplugged actually was. Anna would be by to check on things occasionally, but they might as well make it as easy as possible for her. They already owed her big for taking Gizmo.
"One more thing," she said when she made it back to the door where Victoria was waiting. She pressed in close, one hand threading into Victoria's hair and the other at the small of her back, and kissed her.
Victoria smiled into it and kissed back. It was comfortable and familiar, and she was going to be without it for a while.
"That's your one more thing?" Victoria asked when the kiss ended.
"The most important one." Leighton didn't want to let go of Victoria, but she took her hand out of Victoria's hair anyway and smoothed it down. "I love you."
Victoria stroked her fingers across Leighton's cheek, a touch Leighton leaned into. "Love you too."
Leighton smiled at her, letting her gaze roam across Victoria's face, taking in what it was like now, the softness and slight smile of it. Next time Leighton saw her, she knew, she would look completely different, and it would be a while before she got this again.
"We really have to go," Victoria said, but she was looking back.
Leighton stepped away and turned to pick up her bag. "Okay, let's go." She let Victoria precede her out of the apartment and locked it up behind them.
It was a busy enough time of day that once on the street, they merged into the crowd, and they had to stand on the subway. They had the timing down, though, and they arrived at the precinct exactly on time.
Mike and Michael were standing over Mike's desk, open file folders in front of them, but they both turned at Leighton and Victoria's approach.
"You ready to do this?" Mike asked.
"I was born ready," Victoria said. She hefted her purse up first and emptied it out onto the table, pulling things out and piling them into the waiting box that would be stored in her locker until she got back.
Mike turned the bag upside down and shook it, then went through every one of the pockets, uncovering an old stick of gum, a pair of ticket stubs, and photos from a photo booth that Leighton didn't even remember taking, even though she was in them. The photos and the ticket stubs went into the box. Victoria repacked her purse, clean of anything that would reveal her real identity, and then it was Leighton's turn.
*
Victoria tapped her fingers against the edge of box. She and Leighton had done so much undercover work that it was mostly routine, but they didn't do long-term cover very often, and it always surprised her how much of her life could fit into such a small box.
Lieutenant Beckett emerged from his office just as Leighton put her new ID and cell phone into her thoroughly cleaned bag. "Everything ready?"
"Yes, sir," Michael answered for all of them.
"We just have to store this," Leighton said, "and then we're out of here."
He nodded. "You know everything there is to know about this case. Be careful, and do good work."
"We always do," Victoria said. She picked up her box and waited for Leighton to do the same before heading for the locker room to lock them up. It was their last moment to be alone for a long time. Leighton had to have the same idea, because when Victoria turned to her, Leighton was already looking back.
They'd already said everything they needed to say, and spent half the morning in bed, but Victoria was still grateful for the moment to just take each other in.
"Don't take any stupid chances." Leighton reached across the space between them to brush her fingers against Victoria's.
"You either." Victoria darted in to press her lips against Leighton's in one quick kiss, and then she led the way back to the bullpen. "I'm out of here," she announced to Mike and Michael as soon as they reached it. "Have to go get in costume before I meet the infamous Gabe Saporta."
Mike squeezed her shoulder. "Call us if you need us. See you in three days."
"Three days," Victoria said. She waved to Michael and smiled at Leighton on her way out.
Three blocks away from the precinct, she hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of the building next to the one that held her temporary apartment.
Her new building had a couple of entrances, chosen precisely for its escape routes, and she took one of the less conspicuous ones. She also took the stairs instead of the elevator for the same reason, and arrived in front of 7B without seeing anyone else. That was good; the fewer people who saw her before she transformed herself into the woman she would need to be to get to Saporta the better.
Victoria let herself into the apartment, locked the door behind her, and took a deep breath, taking in the freshly cleaned scent of the place that was going to be her home for three weeks, minimum. Despite the antiseptic cleaning product smell, the place looked entirely lived in. Victoria knew there was a team of people who had taken care of those details, and they had certainly done their job well. If she didn't know better, she would have thought she'd walked into someone else's apartment just after they'd walked out.
*
Leighton shook her head at the extravagance of her new place. A significant portion of the budget for this operation had to be going to the rent on it: a spacious fifteenth-floor apartment in a building where even the hallways had lush carpeting, the elevator never broke, and there was a doorman to receive packages and check in visitors.
Her briefing on her new life had included the tidbit that there was a part-time housekeeper/cook, and the fridge was accordingly filled with meals that only had to be heated up.
Leighton ate one of them, perfectly prepared salmon and the salad that was labeled to go with it, before tackling her transformation into Elle Masters, wealthy divorcee.
The closet was as well stocked as the kitchen, and she only had to choose which dress she wanted to wear. She picked through them and divided them out into two mental categories: Saporta, for anything she thought Saporta would like, based on what they knew of his ex; and Other, for everything else. It would be at least a few days before she went into Saporta's club, so she chose one from the Other category with accessories and makeup to match.
The extravagant divorcee lifestyle came with the budget for cabs, which Leighton was happy to take advantage of. The subway was perfectly fine, but the change was nice, and it meant she could relax in the back of the cab and let herself think through the details of her role.
The place the cab driver left her was a small club with a discrete door, the kind of place frequented only by people who already knew about it. Not that there was anything illegal going on at this location, but it lent it an air of both exclusivity and danger that had to be a thrill to the real divorcees who frequented it.
Leighton, of course, had no problem getting past the bouncer, and she paused just inside, both letting her eyes adjust to the lighting and taking in the place. This particular club was one that Saporta and several of his associates were known to frequent, and while Leighton didn't expect to run into Saporta himself, she did need to start establishing a presence for herself.
She strolled through the place, taking a path that was just indirect enough that much of the club would be able to see her, until she reached the bar. The bartender was no fool, and he came right over to her to take her order. The time it took him to make her Manhattan let Leighton look over the room in the mirror to see who had taken notice of her. There were a few looks being directed her way and one well-dressed man coming across the room.
Leighton took her drink, tipped the bartender heavily, and turned around just in time to let the man think his approach had surprised her.
*
The entrance to Saporta's club was through a door at the back of the small deli from one of Wentz's photographs. Victoria, with Butcher's coaching, gave the code word and paid the cover to the man working the counter. Novarro, according to the files, and part of Saporta's inner circle despite the seemingly low-level job. He'd looked bored when she came in, but had given her a once-over and a surprisingly sweet smile, sweet enough that Victoria half-smiled back, enough to acknowledge it but not enough to break character.
Saporta apparently believed in the theatrical; the staircase was lined with realistic but plastic sides of meat that clubgoers had to pass in order to make it into the club. There was another door at the bottom, one with good soundproofing. The stairs were quiet but for the tapping of Victoria's shoes against the floor, but opening the door unleashed a wave of sound: music, voices, an undertone of clacking roulette wheels and poker chips that carried even over the music.
The place was surprisingly lush, for a club in a basement beneath a deli. It had to occupy the ground beneath more than just the deli, which explained why Saporta owned half the block. There was a fully stocked wooden bar against one wall, an upraised platform along another, DJ booth across from the bar, and gambling tables scattered around the edges of an area that was clearly meant to be the dance floor. Butcher had mentioned poker tables, too, but they weren't in the main room. There was a hallway that no doubt led to the restrooms; perhaps the poker was in a quieter room off the same hallway. Victoria could investigate that later. It wasn't the right area of interest for a first-time visitor to the club.
Instead, she went to the bar and leaned in close to order a rum and Coke. She left the bartender a heavy but not extravagant tip, and worked her way around the dance floor to check out the gambling.
Victoria edged her way into the crowd around a craps game and watched the betting. The croupier was extremely professional. There hadn't been much about Saporta's staff in the briefing materials, but Victoria was willing to bet this guy had worked AC or Vegas before ending up here. It would make sense for Saporta to stock his club with professionals.
She hadn't been watching for more than five minutes or so when Saporta himself slid up to the table. "What you need," he said, throwing his arm around the unlucky man trying his third throw, "is a bit of good luck." He nodded at Victoria. "Why don't you get a lovely lady to blow on those dice for you?"
The guy, who'd started looking discouraged, held out his hand. "Will you?"
Victoria leaned over his hand, gave him a look from under her eyelashes, and blew. The guy didn't look back at the table until the cheering crowd announced his win.
"There you go." Saporta clapped him on the back. "Works every time." He slipped through the crowd and around to Victoria. "Buy you a drink?"
Victoria looked him up and down, taking in his jeans, brightly colored flannel, and white plastic glasses frames. She leaned in close enough to be heard over the music. "I don't accept drinks from strange men."
She walked away from him, downed her drink, and melted into the crowd on the dance floor.
*
Leighton had enough patience that the uselessness of the guy who'd try to pick her up the first night didn't bother her too much. She'd been seen in the club and she'd demonstrated that she was approachable but not willing to go home with the first guy who asked her, both of which were the first step in building up her cover. For the club to really be of any use to her, she'd probably have to go during the week anyway; Saporta and his crew were likely to be at his club on weekends.
The hardest part of her first night as Elle Masters was coming home to an empty apartment and sleeping alone for the first time in a very long time. Even on the rare occasion when Victoria wasn't home, there was Gizmo, who was always excited to partake in the treat of sleeping on the bed. If she was honest with herself, it wasn't Gizmo Leighton missed; it was Victoria. She hadn't worked a case without close, ongoing contact with Victoria since before they'd transferred into Vice.
It took her a long time to fall asleep.
Being a wealthy divorcee had its benefits, however, and one of them was that she could sleep as late as she wanted on Saturday morning, eat breakfast in her robe, and then spend much of the day being pampered at a day spa. The spa was more than just a rich woman's entertainment; Narcotics' background information said that Saporta's ex and at least one of the women connected to one of his crew frequented it, and women undergoing beauty treatments liked to talk. The crowd on Saturday was mostly women with day jobs who couldn't come during the quieter weekdays, but Leighton still might get some good contacts out of it.
"Come out with us tonight," Kelsey, one of the women in a group of five invited Leighton.
Leighton agreed easily, and found herself that evening at a tapas bar in the midst of a cheerfully gossipy group: Kelsey, who was clearly the one who met new people; Stephanie, who was a food writer; Whitney, whose impulse toward cattiness was tempered by the way she clearly cared about the other women; Erika, whose forthrightness made her the one Leighton would most want to be friends with as herself; and Megan, who seemed to fill the role of the quiet one.
"The bartender," Stephanie sighed at one point. "I really think he's the thing that could get me over the pain of my divorce."
Leighton joined the other women in laughing.
"You're out of luck anyway," Whitney said. "Steven and I were in here last week, and we ran into Bianca. She's getting over the pain with the bartender."
Erika winced, and explained to Leighton, "Bianca broke up with a guy she really loved a couple of months ago. They'd been together for four and a half years. It was brutal."
Leighton nodded. "Divorced. I know how that goes." Inside, her mind was racing. If their Bianca was Bianca Dueñas, there had to be a way she could make this useful to her.
*
Victoria decided that she was the kind of party girl who would go back to the same place a second night, and not just because it was her job. She dressed accordingly, paid the cover to Novarro, and descended into the controlled chaos of the club.
Instead of heading for the bar or the dance floor, she made her first stop the cashier to pick up a stack of chips. Every table was as full as they had been on Friday, with the dance floor even more so. Her best chance to actually place a bet was the roulette table.
Victoria had enough practice making her presence unavoidable that she was able to work her way from the back of the crowd to the edge of the table relatively quickly.
She started by putting a few chips down on black, just as a warm-up. She wasn't averse to riskier bets, but she was there to see and be seen, and the more chips she had the longer she could play. The ball landed on black, and once she'd collected her winnings, she eyed the table and the players around it and bet on seventeen.
"So you're a risk-taker," a voice said close to her ear. Victoria hadn't been watching the people around her too closely - she was trying to blend in enough that her presence would be remarkable for reasons other than that there was something wrong about her - and Saporta had managed to reach her side without her notice.
"I can be," she answered without looking away from the table.
"And yet you wouldn't let me buy you a drink."
"I told you, I don't accept drinks from strange men."
The ball landed on twenty-five, and Victoria made a face as the croupier raked her chips in with the rest.
"I'm Gabe Saporta," Saporta said. "Now I'm not a strange man."
"Strange enough." Victoria still didn't look at him, instead watching the croupier pay out bets.
"I own this place."
At that, Victoria did turn. He'd traded the glasses for contacts and the brightly colored flannel for one in a more subdued red and black.
"Really? It's a good club." She held out her hand. "Victoria Teague."
Instead of shaking her hand, he bent over it and brushed his lips over the back of it. On some men, it would have been sleazy. On Saporta it was charming.
"Nice to meet you, Vicky-T. Can I buy you that drink now?"
Victoria glanced at the table, then turned fully away from it. "One drink," she agreed. "But shouldn't you be encouraging people to gamble?"
Saporta put his arm through hers and drew her away from the table. "A drink with me is only going to make you more likely to come back."
*
"So what happened, if you don't mind me asking?" The question came, not unexpectedly, from Erika.
"Left me for the younger secretary," Leighton said. "But I had a better lawyer, so now she's pretty much all he's got."
"Ouch," Kelsey said.
"Pretty much." Leighton swirled her glass, watching the fruit move in the small whirlpool of her sangria. "But now I'm rich and totally free to start a new life."
"Hear, hear." Stephanie raised her glass, and the other women followed suit, Leighton joining in with a grin.
"So what does your new life look like?" Whitney asked. "Aside from meeting a bunch of awesome women like us, of course."
Leighton put her glass down. "Something more exciting than being a stock broker's wife. I've been thinking about investing, not stocks, obviously, but something more interesting, like a club or a restaurant or something." She was going to have to be more direct about that in other places to attract Saporta's attention, but the softer sell would blend better with this group.
"Not a restaurant," Megan advised. "Trust me. My last ex had a restaurant. It's so much work. I barely saw him. If you want a life, try a club."
"I dated a guy who managed a club," Stephanie said. "It was great - we always got in and our drinks were free." She looked at the empty pitcher, then the bar. "Are you sure the bartender's dating Bianca?"
Whitney laughed. "Pretty sure. You know Bianca. I can't imagine her having just a fling on purpose."
Stephanie sighed. "I was so looking forward to someone dulling the pain for me."
"What you don't know," Erika mock-confided to Leighton, "is that Stephanie's been divorced for four years."
"The pain," Stephanie said, completely deadpan, "never ends."
It drew a laugh from the rest of the table, but Leighton didn't join in. She was supposed to be newly divorced, after all, and she could imagine that if she and Victoria were to ever break up, the pain might not end.
Kelsey put her hand on Leighton's arm. "You'll have to learn not to mind us. None of us have been through a breakup recently. They're all old hurts."
Leighton nodded, because she understood and because Elle Masters would understand.
Megan looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "Maybe we should call Bianca. You can compare stories." She flashed a smile at Stephanie. "And we can get the scoop on the bartender."
Erika already had her phone out. "I'll do it."
Leighton couldn't believe it had been that easy.
*
Victoria was frankly amazed with the speed the bartender got their drinks. She wasn't sure if it was just prudence on his part or if it was indicative of what Saporta expected from his employees, but she wasn't about to complain either way.
Saporta ordered Red Bull and vodka, and Victoria made a face at him that made him laugh.
"Don't knock it till you try it."
"I'll stick to this, thanks," she said, holding up her rum and Coke.
"Maybe tonight," he said, "but I'll get you to try this." There wasn't the slightest bit of hesitation in it. He sipped his drink, never taking his eyes off of her. "So what brings you to my club, Victoria Teague?"
"What brings anyone here? I like to party." Victoria turned half away from him, enough to watch the room but not enough that she couldn't also watch him. The look on his face was edging toward frustration, but she was betting on Butcher's information being right and that it was the kind of frustration that would keep him interested.
"So where'd you hear about my club?" Saporta clearly wasn't the type to give up after half a brush off.
"Oh, a friend of mine, Adrian?" Victoria let her voice tilt the name up into a question. "When he heard I was moving to New York, he told me I had to come here." It helped that she actually did know Adrian and that he was bicoastal, giving truth to the lie.
Victoria was careful not to fidget under Saporta's steady gaze. Adrian had actually been to Saporta's club once, but he wasn't a regular; had, in fact, been one of the people to tip off the department that it might be worth investigating.
"Don't think I know him."
"I'm not sure it's really his kind of place. I mean, he'll go out with people, but," Victoria shrugged, "his parents met at a commune, so, you know. Not so much with the decadent partying."
"But you are." The corners of Saporta's mouth turned up in a small, surprisingly sweet smile.
"'Decadent partying' is practically my middle name."
Saporta's smile turned into an all out grin. Victoria didn't even think about it before she turned so she was looking more at him than at the room.
"Were your parents from some kind of alternative culture too?"
Victoria returned his grin. "No. My real middle name's Jane, and I'm not sure my parents would quite approve of this."
"Which part?" Saporta asked. "The drinking, the gambling, the rampant partying?"
"Oh, all of that," she said, "but mostly I was thinking of letting strange men buy me drinks." Victoria swallowed the last of her drink and put the glass on the bar. "But I appreciate it. Thank you." She pushed herself off of her bar stool and walked away from Saporta for the second time in two days. Butcher had better have been right about him.
When she got to the roulette table and turned enough to see him through the crowd, he was still sitting at the bar, sipping his drink and watching her. She stopped watching back and placed a bet.
*
"There's Bianca," Whitney said.
Leighton turned to look at the woman coming through the door. She recognized her, of course, from the file on her, but Elle didn't know her, so Leighton took her in as if she were seeing her for the first time. A little taller than Leighton, but not as tall as Victoria. Expensively dressed, high heels, wavy blond hair.
Dueñas waved at them but went to the bar first. The whole group of women watched her as she ordered a drink and leaned across the bar to get a kiss from the bartender.
Stephanie heaved a sigh of disappointment.
Erika swatted at her arm. "Stop that."
Dueñas reached them and put her drink down on the table before making her way around to hug everyone.
"This is Elle," Kelsey said. "We met her at the spa today. Elle, this is Bianca."
"Nice to meet you," Leighton said, meaning every word of it.
"So," Stephanie said, "we all hope you're doing well and all of that, but what we really want to know is: what's the story with the bartender?"
"What Stephanie means," Erika said while the others were laughing, "is that she's jealous you got there first."
Dueñas glanced back at the bar before answering. "His name's Antonio." The smile on her face said he was more than just a name, but the name was what Leighton noted. She would give it to Michael when she saw him. Maybe he was just an innocent bystander, but maybe there was something there she needed to know.
"How'd you meet him?" Whitney asked.
"Some friends from work and I came in here one night, and he gave me his number." Dueñas tucked her hair back. "I know a lot of bartenders, and they're more likely to get numbers than give them."
"Bianca's ex owns a club," Megan explained to Leighton.
"Really?" Leighton leaned forward. "I'm thinking about investing in a club."
"Elle got everything in the divorce," Kelsey said to Dueñas.
"A club's not a bad idea," Dueñas said. "Good ones make steady money, and even ones that fail will get you in the door in the scene. Actually, you should talk to Gabe. My ex. He might know of something, or he was talking about expanding." She lowered her voice a little. "His club isn't entirely aboveboard. It's sort of half dancing and half gambling, but if you don't mind that kind of thing."
"I definitely don't," Leighton said. "I was married to a stock broker, and now I'm looking to have some fun."
"Give me your number," Dueñas said, handing over her phone. "I'll let him know you're looking to invest and get him to call you."
Leighton watched the other women out of the corner of her eye as she put her number into Dueñas's phone. They were practically vibrating with curiosity.
Surprisingly it was Megan who asked, "You still talk to Gabe?"
Something in Dueñas's face changed, and she was no longer the cool, confident woman who'd joined them. She looked softer, almost wistful.
"Yeah, well, just because we aren't together doesn't mean I don't love him."
*
Victoria's buzzer rang on Sunday afternoon just as she was trying to decide what Victoria Teague would do with herself on a Sunday. There was a theater showing independent films that she thought might be worth the trek, or she could order Chinese food and watch TV.
When the voice coming through the speaker said, "Flower delivery for Victoria Teague," Victoria hesitated a moment. It could be flowers, or it could be a cover for something else. Victoria Teague, she thought, would be naive enough - or reckless enough - to buzz a delivery up instead of getting it herself, and Victoria Asher could take care of herself.
She kept the locks on, though, and peered through the peephole to be sure the guy was actually carrying flowers before she opened the door just wide enough to sign for them and take the vase from him. It was easier than she thought to sign "Victoria Teague."
The flowers themselves were a simple arrangement of purple tulips set against smooth lengths of greenery, with a matching purple ribbon around the vase and an envelope held in a bit of plastic in the middle of them. Victoria set the vase down on the kitchen counter and opened the envelope.You're a mystery, Victoria Teague, and I'm fond of mysteries. Come to the club on Tuesday. It'll be quiet. We can talk.
♥,
Gabe
Victoria put the note down on the counter. She'd told him nothing more than her name and that she was new in town, and he'd found where she lived in less than twenty-four hours. Butcher was definitely right about the extent of Saporta's knowledge of what happened in his club. He also, it seemed, was right about how to attract Saporta's attention.
Victoria herself found it creepy, but Victoria Teague might like it. She was a party girl, after all, and a risk-taker who was willing to flirt with strangers when it suited her.
Victoria moved the flowers around the apartment, trying to figure out where they looked best, while she worked her way around the question. The hardest part was trying to separate out what Victoria Teague might want from her own eagerness to get on with the next phase of her case. The faster she could get close to Saporta the faster she could get the evidence they needed to take him down.
The flowers would really look best on the dresser in the bedroom, but Victoria couldn't bring herself to put them there. She didn't need Saporta that far inside her personal space. She settled for putting them on the end table in the living room.
Saporta liked that Victoria was a mystery, so she would continue to be one. She would go back to the club on a night that was likely to be quiet, but not Tuesday. It wouldn't do to be at his beck and call.
*
Leighton's phone rang on Monday afternoon just as she was taking her coffee from the barista at the Starbucks just around the corner from her apartment. She answered it with a crisp, "Elle Masters," and ducked around the two other people waiting.
"Elle," an unfamiliar male voice said, "this is Gabe Saporta. Bianca said you were interested in investing in a club."
Leighton settled into a chair at a table near the window. There were a handful of magazines in her bag she'd been planning to read, but this was better.
"That's right." Victoria could play hard to get, and Leighton would say no to any advances he might make, but when it came to business, she needed to be direct. "You must be the ex who owns one."
"That's me. Bianca seems to think you're worth talking to, which means I'll give you a chance. Can you meet me for a drink tonight?"
"I'm sorry," Leighton said, "I'm busy tonight." That wasn't even a lie, so if Saporta decided to check up on her it would hold up. "How about tomorrow?"
"I have plans tomorrow evening. Wednesday?"
"Wednesday will be fine. Where should I meet you?"
"Coldman's," Saporta said. "Do you know where it is?"
Leighton did - it was on her list of places to be seen to get in with Saporta's crowd - but Elle wouldn't. "Never even heard of it," she said cheerfully, and pretended to be taking notes while Saporta gave her an address.
"Six-thirty," Saporta said.
"Sounds perfect. Thank you for agreeing to this."
"Don't thank me," Saporta said, "thank Bianca. She's the one who got you this far, and I might not be able to help you. See you Wednesday." He hung up with a click, and Leighton shook her head at her phone as she put it down on the table. He was proving to be a presumptuous ass as well as a criminal. Leighton sipped her coffee and gazed out the window, automatically noting but not really paying attention to the people passing by. She really hadn't expected to meet Saporta quite so quickly. The original plan had called for her to slowly work her way into his acquaintance. If Victoria was doing half as well as she was, they might wrap this case up and be home in no time.
Leighton shook her head at herself and pulled her stack of magazines out of her purse. Four days in and she was already wishing for her own bed and Victoria. Michael would be sympathetic if she told him, but he'd tell Mike who would roll his eyes at their domesticity. Of course, he'd probably also tell Victoria, and Leighton had no problem with Victoria knowing she missed her.
Part 2