Private Dicks (16 page)

“Don’t worry,” Rhodes told him, unable to resist a predatory
grin. “I stashed it somewhere safe. You’ll get your money.”

After eyeing him for a few seconds, Ness nodded. “Don’t let
me down, Isaac.”

“I won’t,” Rhodes lied. Wash rushed over to Ness and tugged
his arm, urging him back toward the V.I.P. room. Despite knowing that this was
only part of the plan, it still really bothered Rhodes to see Wash hanging off
the greasy fucker.

He didn’t have time to fume, however. Rhodes cut through the
crowd, dismissing the men complimenting him on his cage dance with curt nods.
Hands brushed against him, making him claustrophobic, and he had to force
himself to not break one stranger’s fingers when the man groped his ass. He
didn’t need anyone calling the cops though—at least not yet.

It was harder to clear the bathroom this time. Guys kept
trying to talk to him, to ask him out, to make propositions involving the two
of them and the single bathroom stall. Rhodes finally had to retreat to the
cubicle holding the toilet and slam the flimsy door in a persistent admirer’s
face.

The seconds ticked by as men milled around the bathroom,
waiting for Rhodes to come out. Tipping his head back to rest on one of the
plastic walls, Rhodes stewed. Why had he hidden the belt in the bathroom? Why
not drop it in one of the dozens of dark corners around the club where he could
cruise by and snag it without any of the drunken patrons being any wiser?

By the time the bathroom grew silent, Rhodes was almost
frothing at the mouth with impatience. Sticking his head out of the bathroom
stall, Rhodes saw that the room was indeed empty. He hurried over to the paper
towel dispenser, pulling the tiny screwdriver from his pocket.

Working fast, he managed to get the front of the dispenser
off before anyone else came in. Rhodes grabbed the belt and buckled it on,
pulling his shirt down to cover it. As he began to tighten the first screw, a
slim blond shoved through the door, grinning when he saw Rhodes.

“That was a hot little solo you just did,” the stranger
purred, moving in close as Rhodes quickly palmed the screwdriver and leaned a
shoulder against the wall in as casual a stance as he could manage.

“Thanks,” Rhodes muttered. The paper towel dispenser fell
open, swinging a little on the single screw, and Rhodes tapped it with a
finger. “This thing’s broken.”

The other man barely spared the dispenser a look. “Whatever.
Want to do a private performance at my place?”

“Sorry,” Rhodes said, brushing past. “I’m all booked up.”

Checking his watch as he left the bathroom, Rhodes saw with
a start that he had only five seconds. Counting down in his head, he slipped a
hand under the hem of his shirt and found the remote by feel. At “zero”, he
pushed the button and then started the countdown in his head again.

When they had tested Wash’s devices, the heating mechanism
had taken between thirty-seven and thirty-nine seconds to melt the sensing
element that activated the sprinklers. He mentally counted as he worked his way
through the crowd toward the office hallway door.
Twenty-two, twenty-three,
twenty-four
—

With a blare of the fire alarm, the lights went off and
water began showering from the ceiling.

“Fuck!” In the dull glow of the emergency lights, Rhodes
could see he was still fifteen feet from the hallway door. The club filled with
shrieks and yells as people covered their heads with their hands and surged
toward the main exit. Rhodes worked his way upstream, swearing as some man’s
flailing arm caught him in the gut.

Finally slipping through the hallway door, Rhodes figured
sprinklers that went off ten seconds earlier than expected were better than a
cheap-ass system that didn’t go off at all. The hall was empty, lit only by the
dim emergency lights. Rhodes positioned himself so he’d be behind the door when
it opened. That would give him a good two seconds to react before the other
person knew he was there. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Rhodes hit a
speed-dial button and held the cell to his ear, hoping that the water didn’t
fry his phone.

When Amelia answered, he yelled over the blaring fire alarm,
“Gomez! Get your ass over to Ness’ club, Stand and Deliver, if you want in on
this case. Just follow the fire trucks.”

“Rhodes?” she sputtered. “What the hell?”

Without answering, Rhodes snapped the phone closed and
dropped it back in his damp pocket.

The door swung open and Rhodes tensed. Wash’s
water-streaked, grinning face popped around the edge.

“Ness outside?” Rhodes asked, relaxing a fraction.

“Last I saw him, he was knocking people over to be the first
out the front door. Good thing there aren’t any little old ladies or baby
bunnies here, because Ness would’ve trampled them in a second,” Wash predicted.

Baby bunnies?
Rhodes just shook his head and headed
down the hall toward the basement door.

They moved fast, following the beam from the flashlight that
Rhodes pulled from his belt. Hiding the belt had been a time-consuming risk but
there’d only been so much Rhodes could wear while cage dancing. They’d known
that Ness would be feeling Wash up all night, so there’d been a definite limit
to the equipment Wash could carry.

Taking the stairs three at a time, Rhodes led the way down
into the basement storage area. As they’d predicted, there were no sprinklers
on this level, although the main lights had gone out when the upstairs ones
had. The alarms could be heard but the sound was muffled enough that Rhodes
doubted any fire alarms were located in the basement.

Rhodes flicked off the flashlight when they got closer to
the locked room. Blinking, he gave his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the very
few, very dim emergency lights that illuminated the hallway. He could hear the
two guards arguing.

“What if the place is on fire?” demanded the man Rhodes
recognized as the younger of the pair who’d walked by his and Trevor’s hiding
spot earlier in the week.

“Don’t be an idiot,” said the other guard. “It’s just a
false alarm. There’s no fire. Do you smell any smoke?”

“No,” the first speaker said sulkily. “But that doesn’t mean—”

“Sure it does,” the older man interrupted. “We leave this
room unguarded and Ness’ll have our nuts for breakfast.”

Staying in the shadows, Rhodes moved closer to where the men
stood in front of the locked door. Pulling the pin on a smoke grenade, he
rolled it in the direction of the guards and quickly retreated. He and Wash
ducked into the mechanical room and pulled the door almost closed.

“Smoke!” the younger guard yelped. “Smoke! The place
is
on
fire. I’m
so
out of here! You can stay if you want to be a crispy
critter. Personally, I don’t like my job enough to die for it. If Ness wants my
nuts, at least they won’t be roasted!” He hurried past the room where Rhodes
and Wash hid.

After five seconds had passed, Rhodes sighed silently. He’d
hoped that they wouldn’t have to get into it with any of the guards but it
looked like the older man was sticking it out.

Wash poked him and gestured toward the thin crack between
the door and the doorframe. Rhodes leaned closer to look out into the dark
shadows. The second guard stomped by, headed toward the stairs.

Holding back a triumphant sound, Rhodes just squeezed Wash’s
shoulder. He saw a flash of Wash’s white teeth in the darkness as his partner
grinned at him. They waited another fifteen seconds, just to make sure that one
of the guards didn’t change his mind and come back.

“Nice of them to leave a kid locked in what they think is a
burning building,” Wash muttered. Rhodes grunted in agreement.

They made their way over to the locked door. The smoke still
hung heavily, scratching Rhodes’ throat and making his eyes water. With a
muffled cough, Wash moved toward the lock, while Rhodes tried the door on the
next room over. The knob twisted under his hand and the door swung in.

It was yet another storage room. Rhodes picked his way
through the scattering of shelves, boxes and miscellaneous junk. When he
reached the wall that adjoined the locked room, he cleared the area in front of
it, giving him room to work.

From a case clipped to his belt, Rhodes pulled his favorite
toy ever—a cordless reciprocating saw the size of a small electric knife. The
rough, hasty look of the basement made Rhodes suspect that walls made from
two-by-fours and drywall had just been tossed up willy-nilly as needed. It was
worth checking to see if Ness had bothered reinforcing the room he was using as
a cage. If not, if Ness had just thrown a lock on the door and called it
secure, Rhodes was in luck.

Tapping his knuckles against the wall, Rhodes located a wood
stud and started his cut a few inches to the right. As the saw slipped easily
through the drywall, he hoped that this particular section of wall was free of
electrical wiring. To Rhodes’ relief, he wasn’t electrocuted as he cut a rough
square, just eighteen inches wide.

Flicking the off switch on the saw, he checked out the hole
and grinned. No wires, no cinderblock, no reinforcement of any kind—there
wasn’t even any insulation. The only thing between Rhodes and the inside of the
locked room was another layer of drywall. Ness was a cheap bastard. This was
good.

The muffled blare of the upper level alarms suddenly
stopped. Glancing at the ceiling, Rhodes thumped his fist lightly against the
final barrier into the locked room.

“Miguel?” he whispered as loudly as he dared. “If you can
hear me, get away from the wall, okay?” He waited a second but didn’t hear
anything from the other side. The thought occurred to him that maybe the boy
wasn’t even in this room. Maybe Rhodes and Wash were breaking into a computer
room or a storage area holding valuables or…something.

Shaking off the thought, Rhodes started his first cut.
Before he even finished the final edge of his square, he was impatiently
pulling chunks of drywall out of the newly created opening. Flashing his
Maglite into the hole, his heart fell in disappointment. Instead of being able
to see into the locked room, there was a layer of insulation blocking his view.
Of course Ness would’ve installed soundproofing—how else could he have hid
scared, unhappy kids in this room?

The insulation cut easily and Rhodes pulled it out as he
went, hoping he wasn’t inhaling fiberglass or asbestos or anything else that he
probably didn’t want to be sucking into his lungs. Another layer of insulation
was behind the first. This one looked like a bunch of egg cartons. With a
silent, impatient sigh, he cut a hole in this as well.

Shining the light into the hole, wondering what other
impediments were beyond the insulation, Rhodes saw the top half of Miguel’s
face instead.

Jerking back in surprise, Rhodes almost fell over.

“Miguel!” he gasped, trying to recover his balance. “I told
you to stay back. I could’ve cut your nose off or something!”

“Sorry,” the boy whispered, his eyes huge.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rhodes told him quietly, excitement
at finding Miguel quickly dissolving the last traces of his startled sharpness.
“Want to get out of there?”

At Miguel’s vehement nod, Rhodes grinned and went to work
making the hole bigger. It only took a few minutes to hack a space large enough
for Miguel to fit through, although the boy wasn’t much help. He kept trying to
shove himself into the opening while Rhodes was still cutting.

“Knock it off,” Rhodes hissed, pulling the saw back. “It’d
be nice to deliver you to your mother and brother
without
any facial
scarring, okay?”

Miguel reluctantly withdrew, staying very close to the wall,
as if Rhodes was going to disappear unless the kid kept an eye on him. Turning
off the saw and tucking it back into the holder on his belt, Rhodes nodded at
Miguel and reached through the opening to grip the boy’s upper arms.

“Okay, kid. Out you go.”

Without hesitating, Miguel dove into the hole. His shoulders
bumped the edges of the wall but Rhodes gave his arms a tug and Miguel toppled
out on the other side in a shower of drywall dust and bits of insulation.
Rhodes staggered as the boy’s weight fell against him and then had to bite back
a laugh at how strangely birth-like the process had been.

He eyed Miguel’s small frame. “Little as you are, I still
wouldn’t want to push you
out,” he muttered and Miguel blinked in
confusion. “Sorry. Never mind. Let’s go tell Wash to give up on that lock,
huh?”

When Miguel only stared at him, still completely baffled,
Rhodes shook his head and started for the door. “I’m not insane—really. Come
on.”

With Miguel close behind, Rhodes stepped out of the storage
room…

And stopped abruptly.

Ness had a gun barrel resting against Wash’s temple.

Chapter Eleven

Rhodes gave Miguel a shove so the kid stumbled back a few
steps into the storage room. Pulling the door closed, Rhodes turned to face
Ness and Wash again.

“Isaac, Isaac, Isaac.” Ness shook his head. “You promised
not to disappoint me.”

“Yeah, well, I lie a lot,” Rhodes told him, unable to tear
his eyes away from the sight of the Smith and Wesson Sigma pressed against his
partner’s head.

“That’s a bad habit,” Ness said. “You should’ve just given
me the money.”

It isn’t the money I don’t want to lose
, Rhodes
thought. He shrugged with a show of casualness as he slipped his hand into his
pocket and closed his fingers around his knife. Keeping it hidden, Rhodes
flicked it open. “That’s a lot of cash to hand over if I don’t have to.”

Ness frowned. “Well, now you don’t get to keep the kid, your
lover
or
that money. Pass it over.”

Forcing out a laugh, Rhodes told him, “I don’t have it on
me. What, you think I just carry that amount of cash in my pocket? I told you—I
stashed it somewhere safe. And why should I hand it over to you anyway?”

“Because if you don’t, your sweet little boy here is going
to be missing half his head.” A rough edge had worked its way into Ness’ tone
and his knuckles had gone white as his fingers clamped around the grip of the
gun. “Shame—it’s such a pretty head.”

Rhodes met Ness’ gaze with a smirk. “You think I care about
that piece of ass?” He was rewarded when Ness’ face fell for just a second
before he composed himself. Sensing an advantage, Rhodes pressed on. “Sweet?
Sure. Talented? Yeah, I guess. But guys like him are a dime a dozen, only good
for using a few times and then throwing away.”

Ness didn’t say a word. He was actually speechless. Rhodes
was amazed.

“You should keep him for a while,” Rhodes suggested. “
I’m
sick of him but there’s no sense in you wasting a perfectly good fuck.”

“Keep him?” Ness repeated.

“Sure,” Rhodes said, carefully keeping his eyes off Wash’s
face. “You keep Wash and the kid, and I take my cash and leave. I’ll never come
back into the club and you can sell the boy to some other lucky guy.
Everybody’s happy.”

Wash made a tiny sound and Rhodes avoided his eyes, offering
Ness a cool smile. “
Almost
everyone then. But you can keep Wash
quiet—drugs, money, threats, really good sex…”

“You’re bluffing,” Ness accused Rhodes, who shrugged.

“Not really but whatever. It’s your call.” Rhodes glanced up
toward the ceiling. “Better decide what you want to do—firemen will be busting
in here soon.”

Ness’ gaze flicked up to follow Rhodes’—just for a second
but it was long enough.

“Up!” Rhodes yelled at Wash, who swung his hand up to slam
again Ness’ gun arm, hard enough that the gun slid up Wash’s temple until the
barrel was pointed above his head. Rhodes pulled his knife from his pocket and
threw it, imbedding the blade deeply into Ness’ wrist.

Ness shrieked, a high, shrill cry, and dropped the gun,
which skittered across the floor until it came to rest against the wall. Wash
drove his elbow into Ness’ gut. When Ness doubled over, Wash grabbed a handful
of greasy hair and yanked Ness’ face down even farther until it connected with
his drawn-up knee.

Crumpling to the floor, Ness groaned, air burbling through
the blood pouring from his nose. Wash flipped him over and cranked one of Ness’
arms behind his back to hold him still. Over the pain-filled noises Ness was
making and Wash’s muttered curses, Rhodes heard something.

“Quiet!” he snapped, startling the other two men to silence.
Now Rhodes could definitely hear what sounded like the scuff of boots and
muffled voices. Someone was in the basement. Hopefully it was firemen, working
their way through the building to ascertain that it was safe, but there was the
possibility that some of Ness’ minions were about to walk in on them. “Hold
him,” he hissed at Wash, who nodded.

Rhodes moved quickly and silently toward the sound,
flattening himself into the shadows along the hallway wall.

“Let me see your hands!” At Amelia Gomez’s bellow, Rhodes
grinned, stepping into the center of the hallway with his hands raised. Gomez,
Callum and two uniformed cops had their guns trained on him. A wide-eyed Trevor
was standing a few steps from the bottom of the stairs. His part in the plan
had been to find Amelia and lead her down to where Miguel was hidden.
Obviously, Trevor had done his job perfectly. Rhodes grinned at him and winked.

“Melie,” Rhodes teased, light-headed with relief. “What took
you so long?”

“What took me so long?” she repeated incredulously, although
she holstered her gun, which meant she wasn’t pissed off enough to actually
shoot him. “What
took
me so long? If you had just let me know what was
going on in the first place, you secretive motherfucker, instead of making me
run over here after getting your cryptic phone call in the middle of the night,
I might’ve been a little fucking faster, you asshole.”

By the end of her tirade, the two cops and Trevor were all
staring at Gomez with wide eyes. Callum was holstering his own gun, apparently
unruffled by the outflow of profanity from his partner.

Rhodes swallowed his laughter and put on his best somber
face. “Sorry, Melie. I have good news though.”

“Quit calling me that,” Gomez snapped. “Your partner is
rubbing off on you in the worst way possible.” She paused. “What news?”

“We found Miguel—he’s okay. Oh, and Wash is sitting on your
perp.”

Gomez’s face blanked in shock before she shouldered Rhodes
out of the way. He stepped back, allowing her access. Jogging down the hallway
with Callum and the cops, Trevor and Rhodes following, she took in the scene
for a fraction of a second before swooping in to kneel on the back of Ness’
neck while she reached for her handcuffs. Ness screamed as she twisted his
injured arm behind his back.

“Melie!” Wash greeted her cheerily as he released Ness and
stood up. Gomez barely rolled her eyes, too busy examining the knife buried in
Ness’ wrist.

“Which of you is responsible for this?” she demanded, jerking
her head at his arm as she narrowed her eyes at Rhodes and Wash. They both
pointed at each other and then started laughing. With an exasperated growl,
Gomez hauled Ness to his feet and handed him off to the two uniformed officers.

“Thank God!” Ness was blubbering, blood and spit flying out
with each word. “These two perverts kidnapped some kid! When I tried to rescue
him—”

“Save it.” Gomez cut off his spiel. “Take him out front,
Burgess. Radio for a bus, pat him down and then have a Fire Department medic
take a look at his injuries while you’re waiting. Stay with him the whole time.
And it’s probably a good idea to read him his rights on the way upstairs—he
seems pretty chatty.” The cop holding Ness’ right arm nodded and he and the
other officer led him away.

“There’s the gun he held on Wash,” Rhodes told Gomez and
Callum, nodding toward the fallen Sigma. “The pocketknife in his wrist is mine.
If you wouldn’t mind getting that back to me…”

Callum retrieved the gun, shooting Rhodes a sour glare.

“What? I like that knife,” Rhodes protested mildly, still a
little giddy about Wash not getting shot in the head.

“What the fuck is going on?” Callum demanded. “Did you two
fags drag us down here to clean up after a fight with your rich boyfriend?”

Rhodes bristled, opening his mouth to answer, but Wash beat
him to the punch.

“No, asshole!” Wash spat out. “We called you down here to
get the credit for busting a greasy fuck-head who was selling kids as sex
slaves. So you’re welcome! And you know what? I’m getting pretty fucking tired
of your dumbass, gay-bashing comments.”

“Washington,” Gomez warned, trying to head him off, but Wash
didn’t even look at her.

“It was motherfucking pricks like
you
who made
Rhodie’s life miserable, when all he wanted to do was be a good cop,” Wash
continued, his voice getting faster and louder. Callum just stared. “You fucked
him over, wrecked his career and why? Just because he likes to sleep with
guys?”

“Wash!” Rhodes snapped but Wash ignored him too.

“Well you know what?” Wash was face to face with Callum.
Rhodes could see his partner actually shaking with rage. “Rhodie was a hell of
a cop—much better than you’ll
ever
be—and I think that drives you crazy.
He’s gay and he
still
kicked your ass!”

“Screw you, you fucking queer!” Callum snarled, his face
flushed and twisted.

“That’s all you have, isn’t it, fuck-face?” Wash taunted.
“Yeah, I love Rhodie, so what? Call me a queer or a fag all you want. You’ll
still be a shitty, half-assed, stupid-as-fuck cop, so you can just suck my
dick!”

“Wash! Enough!” Rhodes bellowed, staring at his partner.

Did Wash just…come out? Now? To
Callum
, of all
people?

He shot a glance over at Gomez and went cold. Her expression
shifted from blank shock to complete disgust. Rhodes blinked and swallowed,
clenching his jaw so tightly he could hear crackling sounds.

He thought he was over caring what people thought but seeing
the distaste on Gomez’s face felt like a punch to the kidney, sneaky and
shocking, taking away his breath before he could even brace against the pain.
He’d always assumed that she knew he was gay—after all, every other cop in the
city did.

“Is that true?” Amelia asked him, as if the words tasted bad
on her tongue. “So it was
Wash
in bed with you that morning I called?”

Rhodes stared at her and gave a short nod. Fine. If she was
going to be an asshole about this, he’d survive. Gomez was his last contact
with the police department but he and Wash didn’t need to get messed up with
the cops’ shit anyway. Washington Investigations had plenty of work that actually
paid. He tried not to think about how this would cut his number of friends by
half—from two to one, in just a few seconds.

“Really, Rhodes?” she said, her voice filled with deep
disappointment.

“Yeah.” He’d meant to stay dispassionate but her tone
pricked him, plus Callum was listening with an unpleasant smirk. “You got a
problem with that?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, her nose wrinkling. “I mean,
Washington
?
Really? You could do so much better! I know a ton of guys who’d love to go out
with you. My cousin Ray is the sweetest— Eek!”

She broke off with a squeak as Rhodes dove in to give her a
hard hug.

“Put me down! What’s your problem? That’s a fucking good way
to get shot, numb-nuts.” Rhodes released her with a grin, turning to see
Callum, red-faced with his smirk wiped away, and Wash, who was laughing his ass
off. Trevor stood back, not saying anything, his expression a mixture of
confusion and amusement.

“So where’s Miguel?” Gomez asked, straightening her shirt
and looking flustered.

Rhodes gestured toward the door to the room he’d shoved the
kid into. “He’s in there. Ness was keeping him in that room.” Rhodes nodded at
the other door. “I yanked him through a hole I cut in the wall. Ness had a
high-tech lock but all that stood between the kid and freedom was drywall and a
couple layers of soundproofing insulation.”

“Could’ve let me in on that,” Wash muttered.

“Yeah, we were just coming to do that when I noticed, you
know, the
gun
. Against your
head
.” The reality of the danger Wash
had just been in was starting to sink in. Rhodes clenched his teeth to hold
back the torrent of words that wanted to escape, a flood of relief and anger
and love and anguish that Amelia and Trevor definitely did not want to hear.
Callum wouldn’t be too excited about it either.

Turning toward the storage room, Rhodes tried to open the
door but the knob wouldn’t turn. He blinked at the door for a second,
uncomprehending, and then realized that Miguel must have locked it. He grinned.
The kid was learning.

Unlike the lock on the other room, this was just an easy
button lock, the same as almost every bathroom in millions of homes. Pulling
out his screwdriver, Rhodes slid it into the small hole in the knob and pushed
the button out.

As he opened the door, Rhodes called out, “Hey, Miguel?
Don’t worry, kid—it’s just the good guys now. Wash smashed Ness’ face in for
you.” Pulling out his flashlight, Rhodes swung the light around the room until
he finally saw Miguel’s face peeking around a pile of boxes.

“Hey kiddo,” Wash greeted him. He’d followed Rhodes in and
now walked up to the boy’s hiding place and crouched down. “I’m Wash, this is
Rhodie and we’re really glad to see you, although not as glad as Carlos is
going to be.”

“Carlos?” That was the magic word. Miguel stood up, allowing
Wash to pull him in for a rough hug.

“Who do you think hired us to find you?” Rhodes asked.

Miguel smiled.