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“It always comes down to the same thing,” Watts noted sourly.

“Puss—uh, girls. It’s gotta be the prostitution.”

“That makes sense, since Clark showed up and put us all on the trail of the Internet pornographers.” She jammed her hands in her pockets and started pacing. “There have to be reports from Hogan to Clark. If he wrote them on a computer or e-mailed them, I can Þ nd them.”

“You work on that,” Watts dropped the butt and crushed it under the toe of his scuffed wingtip, “and I’ll drop around to narco and see if I can get anything out of the guys Hogan was supposedly reporting to.

If I can get you a name, you’ll have another thread to pull.”

“Fine. I’ll be here turning the Wonder Boys into cybersleuths for a while yet.”

“Yeah. Don’t forget their red capes. Meanwhile, I’ll do some real

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detecting.” Laughing to himself, Watts sauntered off, a happy man with a mission.

v

“Mmm.” Sandy purred and stretched as a warm mouth slowly deposited gentle kisses down the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades. Without opening her eyes, face still buried in the pillow, she reached behind her and felt for the familiar form. Finding it, she smoothed a hand over the subtle curve of hip. “I’m sleeping, Dell.”

“Go ahead,” Mitchell whispered, continuing her tactile journey down the center of her lover’s back. She swirled the tip of her tongue in the hollow at the base of Sandy’s spine as she caressed her Þ ngers up the inside of Sandy’s leg, stopping to stroke the buttery-soft skin high on the inside of her thighs. “I’m Þ ne here by myself.”

Sandy shifted, drawing up one knee, opening herself to her lover’s quest. “Yeah? Then how come you’re touching me instead of yourself?”

“’Cause you’re sexier.” Emphasizing her words, Mitchell traced a Þ ngertip ever so lightly along the lacy border of Sandy’s labia, coating the delicate tissue with the moisture that rose beneath her touch. Her voice was husky when she murmured, “See?”

“I’m too tired for sex,” Sandy groused, but her hips lifted in silent invitation.

“I’m just petting you. You don’t need to wake up.” Mitchell eased onto her right side, taking care not to put any weight on her injured leg, and cupped Sandy’s sex in her palm. Still squeezing gently, she followed the curve of Sandy’s ear with her lips until she reached the ß eshy lobe. Sucking the plump ß esh in and out between her lips, she pressed the pad of her Þ nger to the tip of Sandy’s clitoris.

“Too late,” Sandy gasped. “Everything just woke up.”

Mitchell chuckled. “I noticed.” She rocked the stiff prominence of Sandy’s decidedly aroused clitoris, her stomach tightening as Sandy whimpered. “Oh man, me too.”

“What?” Sandy pushed back into Mitchell’s hand, rotating her hips, working herself against the teasing Þ ngers. “What, baby?”

“Wide awake.”

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Justice Served

“Too bad.” Sandy’s breath came in short, shallow bursts. “You started it. You Þ nish me Þ rst.”

“Say please,” Mitchell taunted, pulling her Þ ngers away from the spot where she knew Sandy wanted her, at the same time dragging her teeth down the side of Sandy’s neck. Sandy shivered and moaned.

“If you fuck with me now you’ll pay, rookie,” Sandy warned, pushing her hips into Mitchell’s crotch. “I swear…you’ll be sorry.”

“I’ll risk it.”

“Come on, baby. Don’t tease. I wanna come.”

“Bad?”

“Touch me and see.” Sandy’s breath caught as Mitchell dipped inside her, then out again. “Do that…again…I’ll come for you.”

Mitchell’s stomach tightened, her clitoris twitching, but she ignored the painful pleasure. She pressed her thumb Þ rmly to the tight circle of muscle between Sandy’s buttocks while sliding her Þ ngers over the slick, swollen labia. Sandy bucked as if jolted with an electric current.

“Dell…” Sandy’s voice shook. “I don’t know…if…”

“It’s okay,” Mitchell soothed. “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

“I…just…easy.” Sandy Þ sted the sheets, her legs tensing. “Talk to me…talk to me while you make me come.”

“That’s it, honey,” Mitchell whispered, her mouth against Sandy’s ear as she carefully massaged the sensitive ring. “That’s all I’m going to do this time, just make you feel good.” When Sandy began to push back against her, Mitchell held pressure with her thumb while sliding her Þ ngers in and out of her lover’s warm depths. “That’s right. Take me all the way in, honey.”

“More,” Sandy gasped.

Despite the urgent thrust of Sandy’s hips, Mitchell held back, fearful of going too far too fast. Instead, she worked her free hand beneath Sandy’s body and caught her clitoris in her Þ ngers.

Sandy made a faint, high keening sound, and Mitchell squeezed harder.

“Coming. Dell…Dell…”

Eyes closed, Mitchell pressed her forehead to Sandy’s back and worked her lover with both hands, squeezing and stroking and Þ lling her to overß owing. Mitchell’s arms trembled and her hips thrust erratically

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in time to her lover’s as Sandy climaxed with a choked cry. Releasing a pent-up breath, Mitchell smiled and relaxed against Sandy’s side.

Long moments later, Sandy muttered, “You fall asleep?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Did you come?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Wanna?”

Carefully, Mitchell rolled over onto her back and Sandy followed, curling up in the curve of her body. “I think I’m pretty good. Sometimes when you come, it feels like I did too.”

“You think you’ll get tired of it?”

“Tired of what?” Mitchell snugged her cheek against the top of Sandy’s head while making aimless patterns over Sandy’s shoulder with her Þ ngertips. She’d never felt so peaceful in her life.

“You know…the sex thing.”

When Mitchell didn’t reply, Sandy stiffened. “Never mind. It’s dumb.”

“Sandy,” Mitchell murmured, tightening her hold before Sandy could move away. “I want to make love with you for the rest of my life.”

“Jeez, rookie.” Sandy forced a laugh, struggling to hide her shock.

“I just meant…that’s not why I…you don’t have to say—”

“I know,” Mitchell interrupted. “I’m just telling you the way I feel.”

“I don’t think we oughtta talk about this. Because it’s just too crazy.”

“Okay,” Mitchell replied easily. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” She lifted her head and kissed Sandy soundly on the mouth. “But I meant it.”

“You just don’t quit, do you,” Sandy complained. But her eyes were soft with longing and desire.

“Not where you’re concerned,” Mitchell whispered. She caught Sandy’s hand and drew the small Þ ngers down the center of her abdomen and between her legs, where she held them cupped against her. “And I’m wide awake now, honey.”

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Justice Served

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rebecca piloted the Corvette through the narrow one-way streets of South Philadelphia. Watts, hunched in the passenger seat beside her, was for once mercifully silent. Turning left onto Delaware Avenue, the wide four-lane highway that ran along the waterfront, she drove north until she reached the parking lot adjacent to the Maritime Museum. She parked alongside the huge wooden pilings, interconnected by rusted links of chain, that formed the only barrier between someone standing on the blacktop and the roiling brown water of the Delaware River twenty feet below.

Wordlessly, she switched off the engine and slid out. A moment later, Watts joined her at the edge of the pier. Directly below them, a Þ fteen-foot-square wooden dock rocked on the water, matching the rhythm of the ebb and ß ow of the currents. The chalk outlines of the two bodies that had lain there six months before had been washed away by the waves and the rain in the intervening months. But Rebecca could still see, with photographic clarity, exactly how her partner Jeff Cruz and the undercover narcotics detective, Jimmy Hogan, had looked.

Right down to the small, neat, matching holes in the backs of their heads. Her hands closed into Þ sts.

“Loo?” Watts asked carefully.

“We should have something by now, Watts.” Rebecca’s tone was pensive, her expression brooding. “We’ve been taking bites out of the Zamora operation all summer—even made a few busts, grabbed a few headlines.” She snorted derisively. “But we can’t get a handle on who killed two of our own.” She turned her head, gave Watts a hard stare.

“What the fuck are we missing?”

“Well, you know, we Þ gure it was a contract hit, right?

Untraceable.”

Rebecca stared back at the water. “We might never get the

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triggerman. But whoever gave the order is right here.” She let her gaze follow the river south, then half turned and swept the city skyline.

“Jimmy and Jeff—one of them was getting close to something big.

Something so big it made killing two cops an acceptable risk.”

“This pornography ring,” Watts offered. “Shutting that down has got to be taking a chunk out of Zamora’s income. Maybe Hogan got wind of it through his drug connections and wanted to clue you and Cruz in. And maybe that’s what got them killed.”

“How long do you think it will be before this network is up and running again? Or one just like it?”

Watts shrugged as he Þ ngered a cigarette from his pocket. “Half a year, maybe. The equipment doesn’t cost much, there’s always plenty of perverts, and a new crop of girls hits the streets every day.”

Rebecca nodded. “You know it. I know it. So does Zamora. Why take the chance of bringing the full attention of the PPD down on your head for six months’ income?” She shook her head. “Just doesn’t play.”

“Maybe Jimmy got wind of a big drug shipment. An eighteen-wheeler full of blow is deÞ nitely worth a couple of bodies.”

“Agreed.” Absently, Rebecca leaned forward with both hands braced on the wooden piling in an attempt to stretch the tight muscles in her chest. Between the surgical incisions and the damage from the gunshot wound, the left side of her chest was constantly in spasm. It didn’t help, and she pushed off with an irritated shake of her head.

“Except I have to believe that Jimmy would’ve told someone in narco about it and not us. We’re sex crimes, not drugs.”

“Yeah, can’t argue.” Watts ß icked the butt into the river. “Something in the middle. It always comes back to that.”

“The currency of ß esh.”

“Huh?”

Rebecca regarded Watts solemnly. “Sex. It sells, it pays, it’s the common denominator that runs through every branch of Zamora’s organization. We have to concentrate on the girls.”

“Yeah,” Watts spat in frustration. “But what about them? Most of them have no pasts we can trace, no permanent address, and no interest in helping us. It’s like they’re right there in front of us and invisible at the same time.”

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Justice Served

“Exactly. We need to start creating some solid proÞ les. Facts, not fantasies.”

Watts snorted. “Should be a snap. And just where do you plan on starting?”

“Ziggie’s.”

v

“Honey?”

“Yeah?” Sandy replied, leaning into the closet as she sorted through the clothes in a faded ß oral brocade suitcase she’d brought from her apartment.

“I’m gonna need your help a little later on tonight, so can you plan on being back here around midnight? I mean, if you’re going out?”

Slowly, Sandy pivoted, a white satin thong dangling from her Þ ngers. “I was thinking of wearing this. What do you think?”

“I think it’s really sexy,” Mitchell said, trying to keep the bite from her voice. I think if you’re going out, you shouldn’t be wearing anything like that. Why would you need to?

“Yeah,” Sandy mused as she closed her Þ ngers around the slip of material. “Me too. And since I was planning on staying here and watching videos with you and Michael, I thought you could think about it while you’re eating popcorn.”

“You like to tease me, don’t you?” Mitchell rolled to the edge of the bed and levered herself upright with her crutches in one adroit move.

“Slick,” Sandy observed, holding out one arm with her palm extended. “Just stay right over there, supercop. And yes, I like to tease you. It makes your eyes get this dark, dark hungry blue color. You complaining?”

“Nope.” Ignoring Sandy’s directive, Mitchell closed the distance between them until she was inches from her lover. Then she angled the crutches against the wall and placed both hands on Sandy’s waist for balance. “But you know what happens if you tease the animals.” She lowered her head and nipped at Sandy’s neck. “You get bitten.”

Sandy slapped a hand against Mitchell’s chest. “No teeth. No lips either. I told Michael we’d hang out with her tonight. She’s ordering pizza and everything. I don’t want to be horny the whole time.”

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Mitchell snaked her arm further around Sandy’s waist and nuzzled her neck. “Give me Þ ve minutes. I promise to make you happy.”

“All I have to do is push,” Sandy murmured seductively, her mouth against Mitchell’s ear. “And you’ll fall on your ass.”

“I don’t mind if you’re on top. Makes me hot.” Mitchell chuckled when Sandy bit her earlobe. Hard. “Okay. Okay.”

“What’s happening later, anyways?”

“Jasmine is bringing the kings around. I want to gear up.”

Gently but Þ rmly, Sandy pushed Mitchell away. “You’re not going out with them tonight.”

“No. Uh-uh. They just want to see how Mitch is doing.”

“Okay.” Sandy’s tone was doubtful.

“I’m going to see Dr. Rawlings tomorrow afternoon,” Mitchell informed her quietly. “I need to get cleared so I can go back to work, San.”

“You’re still on crutches.”

“I have that appointment with Dr. Torveau in the morning, too, remember? You’re coming, right?”

“I said I was.”

“So,” Mitchell said nonchalantly, “maybe I can get a cane.”

Sandy sat on the side of the bed, her arms braced on either side of her body as she leaned back and regarded Mitchell suspiciously.

“Promise you don’t go back to work until you’re a hundred percent.”

Mitchell Þ dgeted.

“Dell.”

“I was sort of planning on going to the club this weekend. I should be okay by then.”

“Are you going to ride your bike?”

Mitchell raised a shoulder. “Probably.”

“Then Dr. Torveau has to say it’s okay.”

“Oh Christ, come on, Sandy—”

“Promise.”

Carefully, Mitchell shufß ed to the bedside and eased down next to Sandy, keeping her left leg out straight. She put her arm around the smaller woman. “I promise.”

Sandy settled against Mitchell, both arms around her waist and her head on Mitchell’s shoulder. “Then I’ll help Mitch get ready tonight.”