Private Dicks (13 page)

“Yeah,” Rhodes promised. “Not that you’ll believe us. Now
hurry up—you’re going to be late.”

After dropping Carlos off at school, Rhodes called Trevor.

“It’s too early,” he warned Wash as the phone rang in his
ear. “If he does answer, he’ll be pissed I woke him up.”

“Just talk dirty to him and he’ll get over it,” Wash told
him, flipping a dismissive hand.

“Bitch,” Rhodes growled, just as a sleepy voice on the other
end of the phone answered.

“What?” Trevor mumbled. “Who
is
this?”

“Trevor, hey. It’s Rhodes—Isaac, I mean.” He shot Wash a
threatening look but Wash just held his hands up in a protest of innocence
while snorting a laugh.

“Hi,” Trevor’s voice smoothed out, although he still sounded
puzzled. “Did you just call me a bitch?”

“No,” Rhodes assured him, sending another poisonous look
Wash’s way. “I was calling
Wash
a bitch. He’s the one who’s been
harassing me to call you this early. Did we wake you?”

“Yeah.” The word was punctuated with a yawn. “It’s okay,
though—I’ll just go back to bed after we talk. What’s up?”

“Actually, instead of going back to bed, think you could
give us a mid-morning club tour?”

“Huh?” Trevor sounded wide awake now.

It was probably paranoid of him but Rhodes really didn’t
want to give Trevor all the details over the phone. “Want to meet somewhere to
talk?” he asked instead.

“No,” Trevor grumbled. “I’d rather go back to bed.”

Rhodes let his voice soften. “C’mon, Trev. Please? For
Miguel?

After a few seconds, Trevor’s sigh broke the silence. “Fine,
you manipulative asshole. Where should we meet?”

Trevor blinked. “Ness has been selling kids?”

“Yeah.” Rhodes leaned back in his chair. They had ended up
meeting back at the Washington Investigations office, gathered around Rhodes’
desk. “He has Miguel up for sale now, trapped somewhere with a closed circuit
camera on him. I’m thinking that locked room might be somewhere in the club.”

“So you need me to get you in.” Trevor stared past both men
at the blank wall behind them, obviously thinking hard.

“We know it’s a big risk for you,” Rhodes told him. “You
could lose your job if we’re caught.”

Trevor shot him a look. “Yeah, I kind of figured that part
out already,” he said dryly.

“There’s no reason we’d get caught,” Wash jumped in,
shooting a quelling glare at Rhodes. “That’s why we were thinking morning—we
figured the club would be empty. I’ll keep an eye on the front and give you two
the heads-up if anyone comes in.”

Shaking his head, Trevor corrected, “Even in the morning
it’s not completely cleared out. I mean, I’m usually gone, so I don’t know for
sure, but the cleaners come in between eight and noon and I think there’re
usually a few security guys.”

Rhodes digested this, frowning as he thought. “It actually
might be less suspicious this way than two guys wandering around an empty club.
Plus the security system will be off. I’m not too much taller than you,” he
eyed Trevor up and down, “so I could wear one of your uniform shirts and black
pants. If the cleaning staff does see us, they’ll just assume we’re security.”

“And if security sees us?” Trevor asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You run like hell?” Wash suggested with a grin.

Rhodes shrugged. “We run like hell,” he agreed.

“Trevor could be reporting everything to Ness, you know,”
Wash said conversationally as they followed Trevor’s beat-up sedan back to his
place so they could change into bouncer uniforms.

“Doubt it,” Rhodes grunted.

“Why? ’Cause he’s hot?”

“Think he’s hot, do you?” He looked away from the road to
shoot Wash a sly half-smile.

“Well duh.” Wash grinned right back.

Ignoring the flash of heat traveling straight to his cock,
Rhodes belatedly answered, “And no, it’s not just ’cause I think he’s hot. If
he’d been reporting everything to Ness, I would’ve never seen that video of
Miguel.”

“Sure?” Wash asked. “What if he’s just setting us up?”

“And giving us almost a week to call the cops in?” Rhodes
said. “No. Trevor isn’t ratting us out to Ness. Something’s up with the guy but
it’s not that.”

“He did get pretty squirrelly about the whole police academy
thing, didn’t he?” Wash’s eyes lit up at the possibility of drama. “Think he
has a record?”

“Probably. Why else would working as a bouncer for
Ness
,”
he let all the disgust he felt for the club owner show in his voice, “beat out
becoming a cop?”

“Even
I
would rather be a pig than work for that
greasy prick,” Wash agreed.

“Hey,” Rhodes protested. “Enough with the pig talk.”

“What?” Wash asked. “You’re not a cop anymore.”

Frowning, Rhodes watched Trevor’s car turn onto a side
street and followed suit. “I can’t just turn it off. They’re my brothers—and
sisters,” he amended, thinking of Gomez.

Wash rolled his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, Rhodie, but
you have the worst family ever. They basically kicked you to the curb. Then
they ran out, spit on you and ran back into that depressing-ass police
headquarters. Then they ran back out, jumped up and down on your body, stood in
a line to piss on you, lit firecrackers off in your—”

“Okay!” Rhodes broke in. “I get your point. I know it’s
stupid but I still feel like a cop. Can’t help it.”

“Masochist,” Wash grunted.

Shrugging, Rhodes just said, “Probably.”

Wash dropped them off a few blocks away. As Rhodes climbed
out and adjusted his earpiece, he felt the familiar buzz of adrenaline.

“You hearing me, Wash?” he asked quietly.

“Loud and clear,” Wash’s voice answered in his ear.

Satisfied, Rhodes grinned at Trevor. “Ready?”

“I guess.” Although his tone was resigned, Trevor’s eyes
sparked with excitement.

Just before they reached the club, Trevor made a right-hand
turn into a weed- and glass-littered alley. Rhodes followed the other man to a
battered side door.

“It opens farther down into that hallway we were in on
Saturday—the one with Ness’ office,” Trevor told him quietly. “Locked though.”

“No key?” Rhodes raised a curious eyebrow.

Trevor made a scoffing sound. “For a lowly bouncer? I don’t
think so.”

With a shrug, Rhodes glanced around, pleased to see that a
Dumpster hid both of them from the other entrance to the alley. Better than
nothing. He pulled out a flat fabric case hardly bigger than a checkbook and
nudged Trevor out of the way. Squatting down in front of the door, he examined
the deadbolt—just a basic cylinder lock—and then slipped a couple tools out of
his kit. Rhodes grinned. He could do this in his sleep.

Inserting a tension wrench into the lock, he turned it a
tiny bit to the left. When he felt the plug shift slightly, he held the wrench
steady and slipped a pick into the keyhole. As he lifted a pin, he could feel
the tiny click as it moved into place and each minute vibration sent a thrill
down his spine. Picking locks was one of his favorite things. Wash tended to
just rake the lock, using a wider tool that shoved the pins out of the way with
one yank, but Rhodes loved the delicate lift and click of shifting each pin,
one at a time.

The final pin slid into place and the plug turned, unlocking
the door.

“Nice,” Trevor breathed.

Rhodes couldn’t restrain a smile, although it fell away as a
thought occurred to him. “You sure the security system’s not live?”

It was Trevor’s turn to grin. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

Rhodes made a face. “Great,” he grunted. Taking a bracing
breath, he stepped into the club.

When the alarm didn’t sound, Rhodes sent up a prayer of
thanks to the burglary gods. He took another couple steps into the club,
glancing around. Without Ness’ greasy fingers wrapped around his arm, Rhodes
realized the hallway that had looked so menacing the night before now seemed
positively innocuous.

After Trevor followed him in, Rhodes moved back to relock
the door. “We’re in,” he told Wash. “West side entry. No evident alarm or
cameras.”

“We’ll have to thank Ness for that when we see him.” Wash’s
voice came over Rhodes’ earpiece as clearly as if he were standing in the
hallway with them.

Trevor took the lead, moving toward the closest door. The
blond man hunched over a little, staying close to the wall, creeping along as
if he was the Pink Panther. Rhodes pressed back a smile as he reached to tap
Trevor on the shoulder.

Trevor jumped. Glaring at Rhodes, he raised an eyebrow.

Leaning toward the other man, Rhodes whispered, “We should
be quiet but you don’t have to skulk. We’re just two members of the club’s
security staff, remember?”

Even in the dim light of the hallway, Rhodes saw Trevor
flush as he muttered, “Sorry.” His look of embarrassment dropped away when he
added, “And I
am
a member of the club’s security staff.”

“Right.” Rhodes gave a half-grin and gestured for Trevor to
move on. They checked the rooms off the hallway quickly, giving each one a
cursory once-over. To Rhodes’ relief, no one walked in on them during their
check. The only locked door was on Ness’ office and Rhodes knew that Miguel
wasn’t in there. Rhodes wouldn’t have turned down an opportunity to go through
Ness’ computer but it was a pretty safe bet that the big boss’s office would
have its very own security—including surveillance cameras.

Rhodes was fairly certain that Ness wouldn’t have stashed
Miguel this close to the public portion of the club anyway, since kidnapped
kids have a high incidence of screaming. The noise would have probably been
drowned out by the music on Fridays and Saturdays but not the more mellow
weeknights, especially since Ness hadn’t hesitated to drag Rhodes into his
office.

“Clear,” he said quietly, pulling the final door shut as
Trevor stepped close enough to hear his whisper. “Next?”

“Storage areas downstairs?” Trevor suggested.

Rhodes nodded, repeating the plan so Wash could hear.

An open doorway across the hall from the side entrance led
to the stairs, rough wood treads that threatened to catch Rhodes’ boots and
send him tumbling. He pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and flicked
it on.

“Where’d you get that?” Trevor asked as the beam traveled
over his shoulder to illuminate the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

“My pocket.”

Trevor gave an amused snort.

“What?”

With a shrug, Trevor explained, “Just wondering—is that a
Maglite in your pocket or…?”

Moving quickly down the four steps separating them, Rhodes
traced a hand across Trevor’s back and felt the shiver that ran through the
other man. “Yeah,” Rhodes murmured close to his ear. “But I’m also really happy
to see you.”

Trevor choked—whether from desire or laughter, Rhodes wasn’t
sure.

“Hey now,” Wash protested in his ear. “No messing around
without me.”

Taking a deep breath, Rhodes tried to refocus. This wasn’t
the time to have his mind on his cock. Or on Trevor’s cock. Or on Wash’s. He
stifled a groan and shook his head to clear it.

The lower level felt endless. Rhodes had half-expected a few
closets but instead, storage took up most of the basement space, rooms of
varying sizes opening off a main hallway. The rooms were crowded with sound
equipment, extra bar stools, decorations and a mishmash of other things. Even
the hallway was lined with boxes. How Ness passed his fire inspections with
this mess, Rhodes didn’t know. As Trevor moved a stack of boxes to open a door
and stick his head in, Rhodes walked gingerly between the piles, choosing his
path with care.

“See anything?” Rhodes asked as Trevor reemerged and shifted
the boxes back into their original position.

Trevor shook his head. “Lots of rooms left though.”

With a grunt, Rhodes resumed his search. One door opened to
reveal a wall of file storage boxes. Although he was tempted to dig through
them, see what he could find out about Ness’ business practices, he knew there
was a kid locked up somewhere, maybe behind one of these doors. Besides, the
files were in an unlocked room in boxes—they were most likely old electric
bills and beer receipts. Rhodes doubted he’d find an invoice for twenty-five
thousand dollars marked “one kid”.

Pulling the door closed, he moved to the next one, which
opened into a mechanical room housing an ancient-looking furnace. He took a
quick look around and moved on to the next room.

Turning the metal handle, he pushed the door with his
shoulder. When it didn’t open, Rhodes almost smacked his head on the door. He
took a step back and stared at the keypad above the handle. Checking the rooms
had become so automatic that Rhodes hadn’t even noticed it.

“Trev!” Despite his quiet tone, excitement must have crept
into Rhodes’ voice because Trevor was next to him in a second.

“What?” Trevor asked.

Nodding at the door, Rhodes explained, “It’s locked. A
keypad lock, even—with no manual override.”

Trevor’s face lit up. “Probably something valuable in there,
huh?”

“Or someone,” Rhodes agreed, studying the lock. “Wash. You
awake?”

“Wide,” Wash answered in his ear. “Did I hear something
about an electronic lock?”

“You sure did. Think you can join us in here and take a
crack at it?” Rhodes couldn’t see any wear on the buttons. “My tools are
useless on this thing.”

There were several seconds of silence.

“Wash?”

“I would, Rhodie, but I’m thinking you better get out of
there instead.” Wash’s voice was low and urgent. “Four guys are headed into the
front entrance—one of them is Ness.”

“Shit!” Rhodes gave Trevor a nudge away from the locked
room. “Ness is here. We’re leaving.” Glancing back toward the door, Rhodes bit
the inside of his cheek. Moving close to the crack between the door and frame,
he spoke as loudly as he dared. “Miguel! Miguel, if you’re in there, just hang
on a little longer. We’ll get you out.” He hated to leave but they wouldn’t be
any help to the kid if Ness shot them in the head.