“It is very forward of you, hitting on Miss Leticia’s employees your first day in her home.”
I grinned at her. “Well, can you blame me?”
She pulled her dark brown hair from her ponytail, letting her hair tumble over her shoulders. She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “But it would be very unprofessional if I reciprocated in any way, sí?”
“Probably,” I admitted as I stepped around the counter.
“Then we must keep our distance. There are security cameras everywhere. For such an act, someone would want privacy.” Her eyes glinted with a deviousness that I wouldn't have expected from someone who looked so innocent. “Privacy such as one would have in the study.”
“I supposed it's a shame we’re not in the study then, isn’t it?”
“It would seem that way for you, Mr. Martin.”
The way she phrased her words, the little shifts in her posture to show off her curves, all of them told me that this girl knew how to play the game. She might not have been a professional grifter like me, but she definitely knew how to use what she had to manipulate. And since I knew her tricks, she wasn't manipulating me. Everything between the two of us, while not even close to honest, would be done with our eyes open – so to speak.
She was the perfect woman to make me forget about Karis. Accessible, clearly not looking for a relationship or anything like that. If I judged her correctly, she'd be an excellent fuck, but wouldn't expect anything more.
Perfection.
“Miss Leticia keeps the sweets for the guests in the cabinet over there.” Angelina gestured. “Now if you will excuse me, I must finish dusting before Miss Leticia returns.”
“Thank you,” I responded blithely, trying my best to sound nonchalant. “And where might you be, should I need your assistance again?”
She looked at me over her shoulder, her face the very picture of innocence. “The study, of course.”
“Of course.”
I knew I should probably just let her go and use the time I knew she'd be in the study to finish surveying the layout of the house. If asked about it later, I could use my false sexuality as an excuse. That would've been the smart thing to do.
But after seeing Karis yesterday, I'd lost the sort of focus that I counted on to keep me from making mistakes. I needed Karis out of my head, and Angelina seemed like the perfect way to make that happen.
I watched as she walked down the hall, hips swinging. She definitely knew what she was doing. When she disappeared into what I assumed was the study, I waited another minute, and then followed.
When I entered the room, Angelina was leaning on the desk. Despite the outfit, she looked...delectable. I wondered what she would look like in a “traditional” maid outfit. The thought sent blood rushing south.
“It is strange,” Angelina said as I walked toward her. “Miss Leticia rarely allows men to stay in the house, especially handsome young artists.”
I needed to get a lie in here so Angelina didn't become suspicious if Leticia said something in front of her about Claude. “Well, that might be because Miss Leticia saw my boyfriend and me fighting.”
Angelina's eyebrows went up. “Boyfriend?” Now she looked confused.
“Yes, boyfriend.” I reached out and curled some of her hair around my finger. “I didn't share with your employer that I appreciate the beauty of both sexes.” I held a finger to my lips and winked. “Shh.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Martin.” Angelina reached down and pulled her shirt off, revealing a plain cotton bra that could barely contain her breasts. “Your secret is safe with me. I shall not breathe a word of it.”
“Good girl.”
I hooked one finger under her bra strap and pulled it down, then repeated the gesture on the other side, pulling until her breasts were free. They were full, heavy, the same even tanned color of the rest of her skin.
“Magnificent.”
I ran the tip of my finger around one dusky nipple, smiling as it hardened. She gasped when I lowered my head, taking the hard peak between my lips. Her hands went to my head, holding me in place as I licked and sucked on first one, and then the other. By the time I straightened, her skin was flushed, her breath coming in pants.
“My turn,” she said as she went to her knees.
Fuck, yes.
She had gorgeous lips, the kind that didn't need any sort of enhancement or extra color. The kind that made a man imagine what they'd look like stretched around his cock.
And I was about to find out.
She tugged my pants and underwear down together, leaving them around my knees as she wrapped her fingers around me, guiding me to her mouth. I was only half-hard, so she took all of me at once, going until her nose brushed against the dark curls at the base of my shaft.
“Fuck,” I ground out.
I put my hands on her head, but I was content to let her set the pace. Judging by the amazing things her tongue was doing, she knew her way around male anatomy. For the next few minutes, she continued to prove that, bobbing her head, using her tongue and lips over every inch of sensitive skin until I had to pull her off.
She wiped her hand across her lips and gave me a sultry smile. “Condom?”
I nodded and bent to retrieve my wallet. I was glad I'd left it in my pocket this morning. It would've been embarrassing to have gotten this far and then realize we couldn't go any further. No matter how turned on I was, I didn't fuck without protection.
When I straightened, I saw that Angelina had already pulled her own pants down and was bent over the desk, exposing a firm ass and glistening pussy.
Damn. She really was into this.
I put on the condom and shoved the wrapper back in my pocket. I didn't want Leticia finding it in the study and think I'd been...well, I'd been doing this. Or, at least, something like it.
I put one hand on Angelina's hip and used the other to line up. I started out slow, but then she pushed back against me, and I was deep inside. I gave her a moment before I started to move, letting my hands explore her breasts and lower. This wasn't making love, but there was no reason we both shouldn't enjoy ourselves.
I didn't draw it out, but I did take the time to use my fingers to make her come first. While she was still quivering around me, I finished myself off with several hard thrusts, letting the sensations send me over the edge where there was nothing but pleasure. No con. No mark.
No Karis.
Chapter Six
Karis
I'd never thought that I could delve so deep into the underbelly of cons and grifters that I would get bored of their theatrical antics, but after two solid days of file scouring, the cases became to be dishearteningly predictable. Which, of course, meant I was finding absolutely nothing useful.
Benita, however, had been much more productive in her search. She'd managed to contact the CPS workers who'd been on Broderick’s cases. She confirmed the bit of information I'd found before and had been able to secure the runaway report.
I'd thought that was where the trail would run dry, but then she stumbled upon a report about a young teenager who'd been busted in a forgery ring and held overnight in custody before being released on bail to his male guardian.
We were looking for that report right now.
“Do they have a picture or description?” I asked, hovering over her shoulder, my heart pounding in my chest.
I knew chances were astronomical that it was Bron, but I couldn’t stop myself from hoping. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for runaways to get snatched up by people eager to use them. Most ended up in some form of the sex trade, either taken for private use or put to work. Others ended up in sweatshops. The luckier ones – and that was a very loose use of the word lucky – were put to work as pickpockets and the like.
“No pictures,” Benita said. “But the hair color and eye color are a dead match for your pretty-boy con. Age is right too. Three months after he ran the last time.”
“What alias did he use?”
“Tobias...” Her voice hitched. “Melendez.”
My heart stuttered. Fuck me. It was him.
“Wasn't...” Her voice was quiet. “Karis, wasn't that your father's name?”
I nodded, unable to speak. Bron had used my dad’s name. Why? Had it been a cry for help? Had he been scared and alone and trying to leave a clue for the police to pick up on? Had he hoped my dad's name would trigger something, let us know where he was? Or had he just been terrible at using fake names?
Or...
My stomach twisted.
It was common practice for con men to not only create entirely new aliases, but they also stole identities by using the social security number of someone who had recently passed away. Had Bron known about my father's death and hadn't contacted me? Worse, had he profited from my father’s death? Used him as a way to skirt the law?
He'd been fifteen. Not really a kid, but not a man either. My chest tightened. What had happened to my friend?
“Hey.” I looked up to see Benita eyeing me with concern. “You okay, Rookie?”
“Yeah.” I blew out a breath and tried to pull my shit together. “Just wondering if we’re playing with Pandora’s Box here.”
Benita considered what I said and shrugged. “Probably, but it’s too late to turn back now.”
“Good point.” I took a moment, rubbed my forehead, and then forced myself to start thinking like a Fed again. “Any info on his guardian?”
“I’ve got the messiest signature this side of a doctor’s office – standard grifter fare – but I’ve got a typed out name of Guy West.”
Definitely not the guy's real name. “I’ll run it through our known alias’ database.”
She nodded. “Coffee break for me. Do you want something?”
“Yeah, double espresso. Black. As strong as you can make it.” With how poorly I'd been sleeping lately, the caffeine was much needed.
“Whatever you say.”
While she headed out, I turned to my computer and logged in. I found the database I needed and typed in the name, height, timeframe, and other physical characteristics, then let it run. I knew it would take at least a couple hours to pick out any possible matches, but I stayed at my computer, staring at the screen without seeing anything. I let my thoughts drift.
What was I hoping for here? Did I want there to be some sort of Oliver Twist-esque villain who'd compelled my best friend into a life of crime? Was I trying to find an excuse for Bron's behavior, something that would allow me to accept what he'd become? If not accept, at least soften it enough so that I didn't need to feel guilty about the fact that I still felt...something for him?
“Working hard, or hardly working?”
I glanced up to see Colman standing at the edge of my desk, looking as smarmy and unwanted as ever. It was sad, I thought, how Colman, who was supposed to be the good guy, made my skin crawl, but I was fighting my feelings for Bron, someone I knew to be a criminal.
I forced a polite smile. “Just pursuing some fringe leads on the museum case.”
He nodded and sat on the edge of my desk. I tried not to bristle at the thought of his designer clad ass mussing up my paperwork. “You’ve been putting in some serious hours lately. You know what they say, don't you? All work and no play makes Karis a very dull girl.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don't think that's exactly how that goes.”
He laughed. “You do go out and play, right? Gorgeous single girl like you has to have at least a little fun from time to time.” He gave me a lascivious look. “I can just imagine the things you get up to.”
I wanted nothing more than to show my lecherous boss exactly what I'd like to do for fun. Namely, staple his balls to my desk, but instead, I decided to play it cool. The last thing I wanted was a pissed off boss breathing down my neck. Still, a part of me wished he would cross the line so I could report his ass to HR and get him slapped with a harassment suit.
“I wasn't aware FBI supervisors had imagination.”
He laughed again even though I'd meant it as the insult it'd sounded like.
“You do make me feel old, Rookie.” He shook his head as he pushed up from his desk. “I’ll check in before lunch, and you better have moved out from behind your desk at least once.”
I didn't respond because I fully intended to stay where right there until I found what I needed.
Thankfully, he didn’t wait for a response before he sauntered back to his office. I couldn't just keep sitting there doing nothing, so I started on a timeline. It was busy work, unnecessary considering I already had all the relevant information memorized and tucked into the appropriate recesses of my mind, but at least it kept the thoughts from going round and round.
“What’s the word, hummingbird?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin and let out a nervous laugh when I realized it was just Benita returning with our coffee. Raising an eyebrow, she handed me one of the steaming cups of caffeinated goodness. “Relax before you give yourself a stroke, kid. It’s too soon for me to be training another partner.”
I took the cup gratefully and tried not to let her see just how much this was stressing me out. I wasn’t sure how successful I was, but Alverez sat back in her seat without further commenting on my upcoming demise.
“How much longer does that thing have to run?”
I glanced at the screen. “Only about ten minutes left.”
“Not bad. That new server is really giving us a boost.” She put her feet up on the corner of her desk. “You should've been here back when I started. Some searches would go through the whole night and into the next day.”
“Wow, I’m surprised they had computers at all back then.” I grinned at her.
She responded by throwing a pen at me, which sailed over my shoulder. “Watch it there, Rookie. Don’t get cocky, or I’ll have to cut you down to size.”
I was ready to make some sort of retort regarding our height difference, proud of myself for being able to at least feign being functional, when the computer let out a familiar little ding.
“That was fast,” she said.
I leaned forward and had my hand on the mouse before she got her feet off the desk. We were silent for several minutes as she let me skim over the folders of information the search had pulled up.
I leaned back as a new flood of adrenaline poured through me. We had a lead. “There’s only two possible matches on record.”
“Names?”
“Jason Mackinder, and Uaine Leconte.”
“Two. That’s not so bad. You take one, I’ll take the other?”
I took a deep breath. “Jason Mackinder was killed last year. Crossfire in a firefight between the cops and the crew he ran.”
“And what do we know about Uaine Leconte?” she asked.
“Not much, considering how long this file says he's been working. Person of interest in various robberies and cons, but never enough proof to convict him. Late thirties, no family that anyone knows of. Nothing of his background, so that's probably not his real name.”
Benita was silent for a moment as she absorbed the information, her chartreuse eyes sparkling. “Do we have a known address?”
“No,” I said. “But we do have a very extensive list of lesser grifters who might know more. Several of them enjoying the hospitality of the city of New York.”
The smirk on her face was downright predatory. “How about a little field trip?”
* * *
I returned my badge to my belt when they handed it back, but they kept my gun. Didn't want to risk even a white collar prisoner getting ahold of a weapon.
“The prisoner is ready for you.”
The officer who spoke looked like he was only a couple years older than me, and he was about two inches shorter. He directed his words to Benita but kept glancing at me like I somehow made him nervous.
“Lead on,” Alverez said.
He nodded and turned, leading us down a flight of stairs, and to a series of rooms that wer
e often used for parole reviews, or visits such as ours. When we reached the third one, he stopped and unlocked the door.
Benita and I filed inside, my partner having a seat at the small table in the center of the room while I walked the perimeter, just observing. The officer stood by the door at attention.
Sitting opposite Benita was a young girl who couldn’t have been older than twenty-one. She had fine, elfin-looking features, and skin so pale that it was almost translucent. Her once platinum hair had long since grown out, leaving noticeable auburn roots to her ears.
“Hello, Arielle,” Benita murmured. “I’m Federal Agent Alverez, and behind you is my partner, Agent Melendez.”
The girl tilted her head. “Pacing, or watching?” She was silent for a moment, thinking. “I think watching. Steps are too measured to be an anxious habit.” She turned, looking over her shoulder with jade eyes. “You’re young, don’t seem to have a chip on your shoulder, so I’m guessing you're still a rookie.”
I didn’t say anything, but I was as impressed as I knew Benita was.
My partner nodded and granted the girl a faint smile. “Not bad. Just think of all the legal things you could do with a head like that.”
“With my record?” The girl scoffed. “Couldn't even if I wanted to.”
Silence fell again, and I stopped walking to join my partner back at the table. I sat as well, and looked at Arielle, really looked at her. I tried to see past the jumpsuit and the criminal label she wore with pride. This girl could just as easily have been Bron.
“What if we could change that?”
The slim woman shifted in her seat. “What do you mean?”
Benita continued as if she couldn't tell Arielle was interested. “I read your file. Used as a bait girl, trap goes bad, you get hurt and can’t run. None of your ‘friends’ can be bothered to stop and save you.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, no judgment in it. “You were hung out to dry for a felony when you weren’t even important enough to know what crime you were committing. Stop me if I’m wrong.”