“What aren’t I seeing here, Captain?” Rebecca asked.

Henry rose and carried a file folder with him around to the front of his desk. Opening it toward Watts and Rebecca, he displayed several typed pages and a glossy photograph clipped to the inside cover.

Rebecca leaned forward, recognizing the woman in the photograph at the same time as Watts.

“Hey,” Watts said. “That’s our boy Mitch’s new squeeze.”

“Irina Guterov,” Henry elaborated. Anyone else would’ve leaned against the edge of the desk, but he didn’t.

“She was picked up in the raid the other night,” Rebecca pointed

• 59 •

RADclY fFe

out. Irina had unknowingly led them to one of the houses where the Russian girls were being held under armed guard. Mitch and Irina had been about to have sex when Rebecca’s team burst in.

“Clark has convinced her to work for us,” the captain said. “She’s our way inside.”

Rebecca replayed the details of the raid earlier that week. Mitch and Irina had been in the back bedroom, and all the working girls had been upstairs. The only other occupant of the house, the girls’ armed captor, was dead. The girls had immediately been sequestered by Immigration and would probably be deported, so no one in the crime ring knew Mitch’s true identity.

“Does Irina know Mitchell is one of ours?” Rebecca asked.

“Clark says no, but she’ll have to be briefed since the whole plan hinges on Mitchell being her contact.”

“That might fly,” Rebecca conceded. “Irina has worked with the handlers who send these girls out on jobs. It’s one step further up the ladder.” She took the folder from Henry and studied the photograph.

Even the stark black-and-white police photo couldn’t diminish Irina’s haunting beauty. “The problem is, Zamora’s people have to know she was in that house when we raided it.”

Henry nodded. “Her story is going to be that she and Mitch went out the back window and they’ve been hiding until the heat died down.

No one knows we’ve had her under wraps.”

“Then she has to get back into circulation quickly. With Detective Mitchell.”

“That’s why you’re here,” Henry said. “You need to get your boy back on the streets with her. Tonight.”

“And we’re going to trust her, why?” Watts asked, his voice laced with suspicion and anger. “Mitch is gonna be hanging out there by himself. You can bet Clark isn’t going to lose any sleep over him.”

“According to Irina, her little sister is in a house just like the one you took down the other night,” Henry said. “That’s part of the reason Irina has been willing to work for these people to begin with. She’s been trying to find her.”

“She says,” Watts snorted.

Henry lifted a shoulder. “Clark believes her.”

“And I’ve got a ten-inch pecker.”

• 60 •

Justice for All

“If her story’s true, she’s got motivation to play along. At least until she finds her sister. Do we have an ID on the sister?”

“Not yet. The feds are searching the international databases, but she’s probably not in any of them. Irina says she has a picture of her at the club where she works,” Henry said.

“Ziggie’s,” Watts said.

“Right. Another reason we need her and Mitchell back there.”

“Where’s Irina now?” Rebecca asked.

“Clark’s got her stashed somewhere.” Henry’s face showed a flicker of anger. “He doesn’t trust our security and won’t tell me where.

He’ll deliver her when we arrange a meet between her and Mitchell.”

Rebecca rubbed her forehead. “Do we have any room to negotiate here? I’d like to talk to her before I put Mitchell in the middle of this.”

“Clark already took the plan to the top, and the brass like it. It’s an election year, and it looks good whenever we take a bite out of organized crime.”

“Let’s hope they don’t take a bite out of us first,” Watts muttered.

“They won’t,” Rebecca said flatly. It was her job to make sure that didn’t happen.

• 61 •

• 62 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER SIx

Dell clenched her fists under the table, trying like hell not to let anything she was feeling show on her face. Lieutenant Frye was still talking, but she was having a hard time concentrating.

Her mind was going in a million directions at once. The lieutenant had called them all together to brief them on a new operation, an undercover operation targeting one of the biggest crime families in the country.

And she was the point man. Never mind that it was a career-making assignment. What mattered to her was making the lieutenant proud.

Making her team proud. But hell—Irina. Jesus. She hadn’t figured to see her again, although she’d tried to find her after the raid, just to be sure she was all right. Now they’d be working together, pretending to be a couple. Irina and Mitch, that is.

“Are you with us, Detective?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes ma’am,” Dell snapped, straightening in her seat.

Rebecca stared at her hard for a few seconds, then turned back to the whiteboard. As she talked, she blocked out the highlights of the operation. “Mitch will continue with his cover as a friend of the Kings.

He’s been seen with them a couple of times in Ziggie’s and at the Troc.

He’s known to have a girlfriend, but he plays around. It helps that he’s already been seen with Irina.”

“The boy gets more action than most guys with real dicks,” Watts groused.

Ordinarily Dell would have shot back that it wasn’t what you had in your pants, but what you did with it, but her stomach was in knots and she couldn’t muster up any levity. Since she’d started

• 63 •

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working undercover in drag, she’d discovered that Mitch wasn’t just an assignment. She’d connected with a part of herself that felt natural and necessary. Lucky for her, Sandy liked Mitch too. And so did Irina.

“Maybe Mitch scores so well because he knows how to treat a lady,” Jason said with just enough of a lilt in his voice to remind everyone he knew what he was talking about.

“Mitch needs tighter backup than we can provide with ordinary surveillance,” Rebecca said. “We can’t wire him routinely because we’re hoping Irina will be taking him places where he’s going to get patted down.” Rebecca focused on Jason. “I can’t order you to do street work, but—”

“I hope you’re not going to suggest that a lady can’t be trusted with Mitch’s ass,” Jason said, his tone still light but his eyes serious.

“You’re a civilian, Jason. And it won’t be just Mitch’s ass on the line.”

“I’m in,” Jason said. “Jasmine has a show Saturday night before the Kings go on. Mitch can bring Irina. She’ll figure Jasmine is just part of the group.”

Rebecca nodded. “I like it.”

Dell was glad Irina would know she was a cop because she didn’t want to lie to her anymore, but she started to sweat when she imagined taking Irina to the Troc like it was some kind of date. They’d just be acting, she reminded herself. Both of them.

“This might be our only chance to find out who took out your cops,”

Sloan said to Rebecca. “We’re not going to quit with the middlemen, are we?”

“A few token arrests might be enough to make City Hall happy,”

Rebecca said, “but we’re going after the top dogs.”

“Fucking A,” Watts muttered.

Sloan nodded. “I still want to continue the forensic analysis of the computers at the port. We might find a tie-in there.”

“Agreed. Stay on it.” Rebecca looked at Watts. “Talk to the captain down there today so Sloan can get started.” She wrote “midnight” on the board and circled it. “Mitch and Irina are due to show up at Ziggie’s tonight at midnight. Watts and I will take surveillance.”

Watts’s eyebrows rose as if he were going to object, but a look from the lieutenant shut him down.

• 64 •

Justice for All

Dell cleared her throat and hoped her voice didn’t crack. “Where’s Irina going to stay? She can’t go back to the house where she was living with those girls, not alone.”

“Her cover story,” Rebecca said, “is that the two of you went out a back window and hid out in Mitch’s apartment. For now, that’s where she’ll be staying.”

“Mitch’s apartment.” Dell’s stomach rolled. The studio she’d rented when she went undercover was down the hall from Sandy’s apartment and its only furnishings were a mattress and a ratty sofa. Her mind shut down before she could think about taking Irina there. “Okay.

Right.”

Rebecca sighed. “Unfortunately, there’s more.”

“There always is when the feds are involved,” Sloan said grimly.

“Clark wants more information on the Zamoras’ political connections, and he thinks we’re in a better position to get it than his people.” Rebecca pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “He’s probably right. Kratos Zamora is a big supporter of the mayor’s campaign.”

“Pretty dicey association for the mayor,” Sloan said.

“Kratos Zamora is a legitimate businessman, and he donates big bucks to the local political machine.” Rebecca shrugged. “And for all intents and purposes, he’s squeaky clean.”

“So what’s the brilliant plan?” Sloan asked.

“There’s an upcoming fund-raiser for the mayor, and Clark wants us there.”

“Us?” Sloan narrowed her eyes. “Why would we be there?”

“I’ll be there representing the force, to show the department’s support for the mayor. Normal politicking.” Rebecca stared at Sloan.

“Clark thinks you’d have a chance at getting close to Zamora if you were with Michael, because she’s one of the wealthiest businesswomen—”

Sloan shot to her feet. “Clark can go fuck himself. Michael’s not going anywhere near Zamora.”

“All right,” Rebecca said. “I understand.”