Lust (Vegas Nights 2)

His lips pulled to the side. “I’m taking you back. Chief isn’t quite ready for you yet. You can wait in my office. Luce, do you have her badge?”

“Sign here first.” A woman, presumably Luce, slid him a clipboard and a pen.

Adrian handed me the pen and held the clipboard. I signed my name and dated it on the correct lines before handing it back.

“Here’s her badge.” Luce handed him a clip-on badge proclaiming me to be a ‘Visitor,’ with a sniff of distaste.

“Thanks, Luce. Perrie, come with me.” Adrian nodded his head toward a door. He punched in a code and held it open for me to pass through. The entire time, Luce’s hard gaze followed me, and the eerie sensation of her watching me only disappeared when Adrian pulled the door shut.

“Sorry about her. She’s not exactly the friendliest person in the world. And she’s still pissed I turned her down six months ago.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing. “Humble. An admirable quality in a man.”

He flashed me a crooked grin over his shoulder. “My office is right here. Chief shouldn’t be too long. We had a homicide in the early hours, so he’s working overtime.”

“I can come back.”

“What’s the point in that?” Adrian closed the door behind him and motioned for me to take a seat. “A rushed and under pressure Chief Sandford is the best Chief Sandford. He’ll agree to anything.”

“If anyone asks, I’ll make sure to tell him you said that.”

He laughed. “You do that. He’s well aware of that fact. He’s probably gonna agree to whatever you want anyway. He’s getting sick of the boys not being able to hook any hookers.”

“Sounds like a bachelor party game. Hook the Hooker.”

“I think that’s the way some of them do it. A game.”

“That’s probably why you’re not getting serious results.”

Adrian perched on the edge of his desk. “You’re probably not far wrong. Which is why we need someone who can help us.”

“I still don’t understand it,” I admitted, folding my hands in my lap. “You’re the ones who are trained. Are you seriously telling me that a bunch of guys who live and work in Las Vegas can’t recognize a hooker when they see one?”

He paused. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. You have the bonus they don’t, and that’s the ability to put yourself in their shoes, because you’ve lived it for so long.”

I didn’t understand how or why these people who were trained officers were doing a job they obviously couldn’t do, but I didn’t get a chance to ask, because at that moment, the shrill ring of Adrian’s phone cut through the air.

He leaned over the desk. “Detective Potter…. Yes, sir. We’ll be right there.” He put the phone back on the cradle and stood up. “Let’s go. Chief is waiting for us in his office.”

My stomach flipped. The nerves were doing some kind of tap dance in the pit of my belly. Not that it mattered—I was already here, if there was a trap, I’d fallen for it. Except it didn’t feel like a trap, but still. The skeptic in the back of my mind said it was.

I beat down the butterflies and followed him through the building, ignoring the curious glances of those who passed us.

Did these people know who I was?

Why did I care?

I really, really needed a nap.

Adrian knocked on the door and followed it up with a, “Sir?”

“Come in. Make it quick,” a harsh voice responded.

“Ladies first.” Adrian swept an arm toward the now open door.

I swallowed hard and stepped into the office.

Chief Sandford glanced up. Dark amber eyes peered through thin, rounded glasses, piercing me firmly but not unkindly. “Ms. Fox. Lovely to meet you.”

“Hi,” I said.

Could I have been any more awkward?

Adrian coughed back a chuckle and shut the door. “Ms. Fox, this is Chief Sandford. Chief, Perrie Fox.”

“We’ve established that, thank you, Detective. Ms. Fox, please take a seat.” He waved his hand toward a chair and obediently, I sat. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for a long conversation, so here is my offer. The department will pay you twenty-five dollars an hour, plus any costs for a uniform, i.e., disguises, wigs and so forth.” He dropped his attention to the file in front of him.

That was a cut.

A big cut.

“When would I be…needed?” I asked hesitantly.

“Every evening. At least six days a week.”

“For how long?”

“Two to five hours each night.”

“Make it five hours a night, six nights a week, and pay for my babysitter. Then you’ve got a deal.”

Adrian’s eyebrows shot up.

“A shrewd negotiator. I’d expect nothing less from a Fox.” He peered over the top rims of his glasses. “That seems fair to me. As long as we get two to three arrests every single night, that deal will be upheld.”