Chapter 33

Chapter

Thirty-Three

LOCKE

T here was a party in full swing when I arrived at the Sommerland, in Washington D.C. The exclusive club required more than just a membership to enter. It required a key card, a passcode, and a pat down. They even used airport level x-ray to make sure you weren't carrying weapons or recording equipment.

My comms were off, and I wasn't armed. This was considered one of the most secure clubs for the elite in the district. You could buy anything and anyone. Every vice was catered too and you had to be someone if you were here.

If no one recognized you, that just added to your cachet. It wasn't hard to affect a bored look as I went through the expected procedure. Once complete, they handed me back my card.

"Welcome Mr. Green," the concierge said. "Is there anything you are looking for specifically this evening?"

"I haven't decided," I told him. "I think I'm going to get a drink and check out the entertainment."

"Of course." The concierge smiled. "If I can get you anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

"I won't." Then I wiped my hands on a handkerchief before I returned it to my pocket. I was already walking away from him and across the foyer into the main atrium of the club. A bar in the center offered up drinks. Women in skimpy outfits sauntered through, serving a little bit of everything vice.

While I'd half-expected to take a while to find my target, he was visible on the far side of the room in a tall-backed round booth, glaring out at the cheerful crowd as some girl worked his needle dick under the table.

Poor thing seemed to be going very fast, head bobbing, but the man's expression didn't change. Maybe it was just a limp dick. With that in mind, I strolled to the bar.

I recognized quite a few of the men in this room. I'd imagine the gossip columns and political reporters would pay a fortune for these tips. As it was, I went to the bar and waited for one of the beautiful women to drift over in my direction.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Not what could she get me. But what could she do for me? There really wasn't any fun with people just offering you everything. I'd rather get it myself. She was definitely not Fallon.

"Do you know how to make a Copper Drop cocktail?" I raised my brows, inviting her to challenge herself.

"I've made one or two…" She tilted her hair. "Do you like creamy or just straight?"

"Creamy sounds like the right thing." I used the bare minimum for emphasis.

"Coming right up." She winked. The suggestiveness was all there, but I just nodded. She was definitely not what I wanted.

Leaning back against the bar, I let the atmosphere wash over me. The poor girl under the table looked to be struggling briefly and the guy had his hands down there on her head.

His grimace was followed by her jerking her head away and a long trail of spittle with cum stretched from her mouth to the shadows hiding the man's penis. Small mercies.

I glanced to the bartender as she slid the cocktail across the bar to me along with a napkin and her phone number. "The drink is all I need," I assured her as I pushed the napkin back.

Sampling a mouthful, I nodded. It tasted correct. Drink in hand, I left the bar and made my way across the room. Letting my gaze drift from person to person as though I wanted to find something to entertain myself.

I nodded once or twice, always when I wasn't locking eyes with someone. Act like you belonged and they would treat you that way. An older gentleman reached out a hand to stop me. His crown of snow white hair added to his very flushed appearance.

"Carter?" The man squinted at me. He smelled like he'd taken a bath in his Scotch.

"I'm afraid not, sir."

Rather than being put off, he patted me on the shoulder. "Well, you look like him," my new drunk friend said. "Let me buy you a round and you can tell me who you are."

"I have a drink," I said easily enough and raised it to show him.

"So you do." He peered blearily. "Well, if you're not Carter you have to be someone and I need someone to talk to or I have to go home. I'm not sober enough to go home. The wife will definitely know where I've been."

Honestly, unless he planned on bathing and changing his clothes, it wasn't his inebriated state that would give him away. "Why don't we find you a seat and then I'll buy you a round—maybe an espresso martini to start the sobering up part."

With a boisterous laugh, the man slapped me on the back. Drunk or not, the man had some force to his excitement. "Oh, I like you."

The timing really couldn't have been more perfect. While I didn't believe in luck, not really, my target was charging across the room to leave. He sort of strode like he expected people to just get out of his way.

It took almost no effort to step into his path and collide with him. The glass broke in the force of him trying to shoulder me away and splashed us both. He stumbled and I slid a couple of steps, but I patted his jacket as I kept us both on our feet.

Oh, there it was. I swapped my pen for his and then smoothed his suit as though trying to undo the damage from the drink. I would regret the damage done to my suit, but it was a worthy sacrifice to the cause.

The retired general snapped his head to look at me and snarled. "Watch where the fuck you're going."

"Well, that was unnecessarily hostile," my new best friend said as he leaned into the fray between and exhaled his fumes. "We have rules here, my good man. Don't make me ask for someone to deal with you."

Abdias Stone just looked like a dick. He scowled at me and then my friend.

"Tell you what, just let me know what it costs to clean the suit and I'll cover it." I patted Stone on the chest once more and then nudged my companion back. "Let's let the man go on his way."

We were almost to the bar when a gasp went up around the room and the music cut off abruptly. Across the room, Stone had gone down and his face was rapidly swelling. Two of the servers went to help him.

It was such a spectacle as he fought for air against a rapidly closing windpipe. His epi-pen came out of his pocket and he tried to stab himself with it but failed.

One of the wait staff took it and jabbed it against his thigh, but nothing happened. "It's not working…"

"I'm a doctor," another man called as he pushed through the crowd. I kept an eye on the whole thing, gawking like the rest of the influential crowd. "Let me get in there…"

The doctor tried the epipen again. Then they were calling for someone to find another epipen.

"It's all very dramatic," the man next to me said.

"It is."

Then he peered up at me. "Do I know you?"

"No, sir," I said. "I think you were on your way to find a room for the night."

"Oh, that's right. Right." He wandered off a few steps but then paused when the unfolding medical crisis captured his attention all over again.

I checked my watch as the doctor fought to get Stone's airway opened but he didn't have the equipment and no one else had an epipen. A medical kit was being rushed into the room, but it was too late.

Stone died in just under ninety seconds from our collision. Peanut rum creme was just as deadly as the peanuts themselves. It didn't take long before the concierge and the staff were trying to clear the room. They were going to need to deal with a death on the property.

Most likely by removing him from the property. The members of this club did not pay such exorbitant fees to be caught up in the scandal. I followed a couple of senators and a man of old school wealth on their way out the main doors.

Limos were pulling up to collect their people and still others flowed to where their cars waited in the secure lot. Once I was back in my car, I followed the train of other vehicles until I could head out of the district proper.

Once on the highway, I slid my comm back in and tapped it.

"Talk to me," she said, welcome in every syllable.

"Did you miss me, beautiful?"

"Of course, I did. How did it go?"

"Scratch Stone off the list. Easy peasy. Though next time, I'd rather just grab you some jewels or maybe some art for your new place." I loosened my tie as I drove. "In fact, once we've cleared everything up, I want to take you somewhere."

"Are we all invited?" McQuade asked. "Or is this just you?"

The sun was coming up behind me as I headed south and west. It was a lot later than I realized. Still, a new dawn, and clearing the decks was a good thing.

"Sure, you can come and bring your favorite mate too…"

"Don't you start," Remy said with more than a little snap and I grinned.

"But it's done. I'm an hour away, want me to grab you some breakfast?"

"No," she said and that surprised me. "Come on back, we need to get on the road again. There's one more thing I want to do before we release the file."

"Read us in?" McQuade asked and the concern in his voice echoed the tension in my gut. Her earlier playfulness was absent and I wasn't sure what I thought about the grim certainty that had replaced it.

The plans had worked. We'd eliminated the major threats.

Right?

"I will as soon as you're all here." It was a promise. "Trust me."

"On my way," I promised. A sentiment the others echoed. I didn't doubt that we were all accelerating to get back to her.

To go to her . I liked that thought. I didn't even mind the others. They fit, just like she did. Maybe she just wanted to get out of here and back to her life. When we were done and released the files, there would be nothing stopping her. The people who knew about her were gone.

She could go home.

My stomach sank.

Then I shook it off. We still had time to persuade her and if she really wanted out, then I'd find a way to retire, or at least just take smaller jobs so I could stick closer.

Flexing my hands on the steering wheel, I grimaced at the smell of the alcohol on my clothes and adjusted my speed.

Whatever she wanted, we'd make it work.

Look what we'd done so far. Anything was possible.

The positive thinking did nothing for the worry eating away at my stomach. Twice I went to call her and twice I made myself stop. She asked us to come to her.

Whatever it was, we'd take care of it just like we had everything else. I almost had myself convinced by the time I reached the rest area where we'd left her parked.