Illegally Blonde Read online

  "You're a great detective, Barb. Besides, it's not like I've ever tried to hide my feelings for her," he explained.

  I bit my bottom lip, thought about what he said, and then shrugged. These little surprise conversations between Silas and me weren't odd. As a matter of fact, they popped up about once a week or more often.

  "Well. Okay then. Now that that's out of the way," I said then turned back to face the steering wheel, put the car in gear, and pulled away from the curb.

  Traffic was heavy, but we made good time.

  I found a semi-empty parking lot two blocks down from a popular burger joint. I pulled in, paid for parking, and started to get out of the car. Silas opened his door and swung one leg out.

  "Whoa, stud. Where do you think you're going?" I asked.

  He raised an eyebrow at me. "Um, with you. Where else would I be going?"

  "Look. There is no way this Two-Toes guy is going to talk to me if you're tagging along. Dickie said he likes prostitutes, and while you were sort of a prostitute at one time, you're not this guy's type. You just don't have the right equipment."

  "There's no way in heck I'm letting you go down that alley alone to meet a guy known for selling guns and drugs. Do you know what Tyler would do to me if he found out I let you go alone? Forget Tyler. Do you know what Mona would do to me?"

  "Sorry, but there's no way you're going with me."

  "Well, then we're at a stalemate."

  "I've already thought about this," I explained before he got any more bent out of shape. "Take the car, and circle the block, but stay out of sight of the alley. If Two-Toes gets suspicious of you, it could blow everything."

  "What if you have to go inside the building?" he asked.

  "Then park at the corner. If I need your help, I'll let you know."

  "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

  I nibbled my bottom lip and drummed my fingertips on the steering wheel. "I don't know exactly, but trust me, you'll know if I need you."

  He stared at me for a minute longer then sighed with irritation.

  "Fine." He got out of the car and stalked around to the driver side, waited for me to get out, and got in. "Don't break anything in those shoes. I'm not going to be the one Tyler smashes when he finds out what you were doing to get hurt in the first place." He warned me then backed up and pulled out of the lot.

  I took a deep breath and started walking in the direction of the alley Dickie had told me Two-Toes worked out of. As I left the well-lit area of the neighborhood, a chill skittered down my spine. The weight of my small gun tucked between my boobs gave me a small measure of comfort, but it barely outweighed the fear of tripping and accidentally blowing my boob off. In this dress I was severely limited as to where I could stash my weapon, and leaving it behind wasn't an option.

  The gun in the boobs was Mona's idea, and I'd begrudgingly gone along.

  I spotted the building and alleyway Dickie had referred to. The streetlight above was dim and barely cast a shadow over the area. As I approached the alley, two figures stepped out into the pale overhead light. One tall. One short.

  I slowed my steps and watched. As I came closer to the shadowed pair, I realized they were men. The taller one wore a thin skull cap, dark colored T-shirt, and baggy pants. He fit the description of the man Dale said he saw Mark leave the airport with last week. The shorter man was dressed in a pair of khakis and a white dress shirt.

  The taller man looked around and spotted me. I almost stopped walking but then he looked back to the other fellow and shook his hand. I watched the second fellow hurry to the black sedan parked against the curb, get inside, and pull away quickly. He was nervous—that much was clear. But if he was doing what I thought he was doing, I couldn't blame him. Buying drugs was a dangerous business.

  The taller man walked over to the building and leaned his back against it. I swallowed down the anxiousness that was bubbling up my throat and lifted my head, putting on an air of confidence that was totally fake. I was way out of my league on this one, but I had to do my job.

  As I approached the man, he stood away from the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "Something I can help you with?"

  Silas chose that moment to drive by and whistle out the window. "Lookin' good, baby," he called out like some pervert. I wanted to flash him the finger, but as I was supposed to be a hooker, that action would totally blow my cover, so instead I winked, waved flirtatiously, and flipped my fluffy over-teased hair.

  I watched the taillights fade as he turned the corner in my Cadillac then I turned back and faced the man in front of me. There was a slight bulge beneath the hem of his shirt that I was positive was a gun. He peered down at me through dark brown eyes, and I quelled the urge to turn around and run back to the parking lot.

  I cocked out one hip and propped my hand on it then smacked my gum in a way that would drive me insane on a normal day. "I'm looking for Tommy," I said and twisted a lock of my hair around my index finger.

  "What's your business with Tommy?" he asked without changing his stern expression.

  I stepped back and gave him a disbelieving look then waved at myself. "Seriously?"

  "I've never seen you before, and I've seen Brittany and Candy lots of times. So who are you?"

  I whipped up a story as quickly as my coffee-deprived brain would allow.

  "I'm Tiffany." I continued with the gum smacking. "Like, Brittany and Candy, they were totally double-booked tonight, so I said I'd take one of their clients. Brittany said Tommy wouldn't mind the switch and told me to meet him here." I shifted my weight to my other hip and reached up to fluff my already mile-high hair. "So like, are you going to take me to Tommy, or what 'cause I don't got all night, ya know. There're other men in this town that need my expertise if you know what I'm sayin'." I examined my nails like I was bored.

  The guy stared down at me a moment longer then dropped his hands to his sides. "Well, you definitely look like his type. Follow me."

  I didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered by his statement. It took a lot to get this look perfect.

  He turned around and entered the dark alley. I mustered up the last of my courage and followed him.

  The click-clack of my heels on the pavement echoed like gunshots in the deserted alleyway. The tall guy stopped at a solid black door near the rear of the building on our right. He reached up and knocked twice with the side of his fist. The door opened a second later, and we were faced with a short guy wearing a sleeveless shirt and blue basketball shorts.

  "Tommy's in the back." He hiked his thumb over his shoulder then turned around and walked away. We stepped inside, and I looked around discreetly.

  We were on the lower level of what appeared to be an old warehouse. There were several card tables set up. Each had at least five men seated around them playing what looked like poker. I guessed that on top of guns and drugs, Two-Toes was into back-alley cards as well.

  I followed Tall Guy up a staircase to an open balcony overlooking the card floor below.

  He stopped at the top of the stairs and turned around to face me. "Last door on the right."

  "Sure, whatever," I said in a bored tone and smacked my gum even though my heart was racing, and my palms were sweating.

  I passed Tall Guy and made my way down the long hall. The last door on the right was a thick metal door. I didn't know what Two-Toes did in that room, but if it called for a metal door that looked like it could withstand a battering ram, then whatever went on behind it couldn't be good.

  I reached up and pressed the buzzer hanging on the wall, and a split second later the door opened. It took everything I had in me not to laugh and gag at the same time.

  The man standing before me was barely five feet tall and looked like he came straight out of an Elvis impersonator contest in Vegas. His hair was done up in a greasy pompadour style, complete with bushy black sideburns running down the sides of his face. He wore wide sunglasses with dark brown lenses and thick, gold, pl
astic frames. His purple and black paisley, silk shirt was unbuttoned down to his belly button, and his thick black chest hair stuck out like a shrub that was long overdue for a trim. I could barely see them, but somewhere in that thick forest of greasy chest hair were at least three gold chains. He wore black slacks, and on his feet was a pair of tacky snakeskin boots.

  His hands rested in crutches. I assumed Dickie taking all but two of his toes incapacitated him a bit.

  "I'm Tiffany." I choked down my laugh in order to stay in character.

  "Where's Candy and Brittany?" he asked in a squeaky, mousy voice that didn't come close to fitting the image he was trying to portray.

  "Double-booked, so they sent me instead." I shrugged and sent up a silent prayer that Candy and Brittany didn't show up and blow my cover before I could get what I came for and make my escape in one piece.

  He looked me up and down then nodded his head. "You'll do. Come on in, sugar."

  He crutched over to a leather recliner and seated himself then set his crutches aside.

  The room was done up like your typical man cave. I looked around and realized that this room was huge and more like a small apartment than just the office I had assumed it was. My guess was that Tommy lived here.

  "So, what's your game?" he asked and eyed me up and down.

  My mind raced. My game? What was he talking about? What do I say? I had the fleeting thought that I should have researched prostitutes a little before trying to play one. There was more to it than I thought.

  "Why don't you tell me what you expect of me first?"

  He shrugged. "Candy dances. Brittany does…everything." He waggled his eyebrows and the rest of his body in a weird, perverted, slimy-guy way.

  Okay and ewwww. I thought I threw up in my mouth a little.

  There was no way on Earth I was going the Brittany route, and I looked like a vibrating spazoid when trying to dance, but that was the only option that would get me close to him without getting too close to him.

  "I dance a little," I lied.

  "Well, let's see it." He smiled at me, and I wanted to run home and shower. "The dock is right there. Choose your music, and let's get this show on the road."

  I did my best to saunter over to the iPod dock then picked up the iPod attached to it.

  I was trying to figure out how to come up with a way to bring Mark and the band up in casual conversation when I saw it.

  "Shake Me, Baby" by The Rebels.

  "OMG!" I squealed like a teen girl. "You like The Rebels?" I pressed a hand to my chest in an exaggerated manner. "I'm like, a totally huge fan!"

  Tommy nodded his head and patted his hair. "They're all right," he said easily. "If you like that sort of thing."

  I clicked on the song and started moving to the music. "Just all right?" I continued. "They're great," I gushed and shimmied my way over to him. "Did you hear about the lead singer?" I flipped my hair. "I heard his girlfriend killed him. Isn't that crazy?"

  "Well, if she did, I wouldn't blame her." He put his hands on my hips as I wiggled in front of him. I didn't have to worry about my inability to dance because his eyes were firmly fixed on my boobs. I felt so dirty, but this was part of the job.

  "Why? Oh my gosh, did you know him? If you did, I'm going to be so totes jealous," I giggled down at him.

  "I knew the guy. He was a real piece of work. Owed me a lot of money."

  "But, he was a rock star. He was rich," I said in my ditzy voice and did a little shimmy with my rear.

  "You would think, but he still owed me and refused to pay. But no worries here." He grinned at my chest. "I took care of things. Now show me those twins," he said in a husky voice and reached up for my chest.

  I wasn't prepared for his grabbing hands and panicked. I reached over to the table beside his chair, grasped the neck of the scotch decanter, and slammed it into the side of his head. I expected the container to bust, but it was so thick it didn't even crack. Two-Toes, on the other hand, fell to the side stone-cold unconscious.

  I looked around the room and spotted a desk near the far wall. I rushed over to it and started pulling out drawers, but to my surprise, there was nothing of any use to me in them. I felt around under the desk but again came up empty handed. I was on my way to check his nightstand when a knock sounded at the door.

  "Tommy. Candy and Brittany are here to see you. Said they don't know who that other broad is. Open the door, and let's find out."

  I froze and looked from unconscious Tommy to the door.

  "Come on. The girls are waiting," the guy on the other side of the door said and pressed the buzzer a couple of times.

  I looked around frantically and saw the window then rushed over to it.

  Hallelujah, there was a fire escape!

  "What's going on in there?" the voice came again. "That's it. I'm coming in," he shouted. A moment later the door was being slammed into repeatedly.

  I lifted open the heavy window and sat on the windowsill then swung my legs out and placed my feet on the fire escape. I was just about to slide out the open window and hurry down the steps when the door suddenly burst open, splintering the wood around it. I turned and saw the man who had led me to Tommy's room pointing a gun right at me.

  "Don't move," he shouted and ran toward me.

  Who was he trying to kid? I slid out of the window just as a shot rang out. Wood and glass exploded over my head and rained down over me and onto the street below. Two more shots rang out and pinged off the metal rail I was holding on to as I ran down the stairs.

  I fished in my cleavage and pulled out the small gun I'd stashed there, turned, and fired two shots but missed my target. Three more bullets ricocheted off the railing next to me.

  When I reached the final landing, I tried to shake loose the ladder that I would climb down to the street, but it wouldn't budge, and there was at least a six-foot drop to the ground from my current position.

  More gunshots sounded behind me, and I could hear the sound of pounding footsteps as Tommy's men raced down the stairs to grab me.

  I fired off three more shots and hit one guy in the leg. He fell over, screaming in agony, but the other two men kept running down toward me. I was almost out of bullets, and Silas was nowhere to be found. I had only once choice.

  I kicked off the ridiculous shoes on my feet, grabbed hold of the railing, closed my eyes, and jumped.

  Just as I was falling, a black SUV peeled around the corner at an alarming speed. A split second later my bare butt landed right in the middle of the windshield of the vehicle, but the SUV didn't slow down. Instead, the driver side window slid down, and whoever was inside fired shots at the building and the men chasing me. I rolled off the windshield onto the hood and grabbed hold of the base of the windshield wipers with one hand before I could be tossed into the street and held on for dear life as the vehicle sped down the alley and out onto the street. I flicked the safety on my empty gun with my thumb and positioned it in my hand so that I could grab the other wiper with my fingertips. The gold strapless dress I wore rolled both up and down to rest around my waist and was now a gold belt.

  The vehicle sped down the street with me spread-eagle on the hood. The black strapless bra and panty set I'd chosen to wear was exposed for the entire world to see, and half of my rump was flapping in the breeze while I held on by my fingertips and tried not to scream like a wild woman.

  I looked up at the windshield and made eye contact with the last person in the world I would ever have expected to see.

  Gerald frowned out at me with the same bored expression he always seemed to be wearing then returned his eyes to the road. Meanwhile, all eyes of the people on the sidewalk as we entered a more populated neighborhood were on me as we passed by. A few minutes later Silas roared up beside us in my car, caught one look at me in my current predicament, and started laughing so hard he almost ran off the road.

  If he damaged my car, so help me…

  Gerald whipped into an abandoned lot and got o
ut without killing the ignition.

  I was frozen in place until I realized we were no longer moving. I released the hood and started to slide off, but Dickie's goon grasped my waist and picked me up then set me on my feet.

  "Best get off of there before the hood gets hot and you burn yourself," he said evenly.

  Silas pulled in beside us, got out, and rushed over to me. His face was still red from laughter, but he'd been smart enough to contain himself before approaching me.

  I quickly adjusted the dress to cover myself to the best of my ability then glared at Gerald. "What in the hell are you doing here? And where in the hell were you?" I turned my glare toward Silas.

  "Dickie thought about what the two of you talked about after you left and knew you'd do something that might get you into some trouble. He figured you might need some backup, especially with Tommy. He's a little slow on the uptake, but his guys aren't," Gerald said.

  "Gerald spotted me, pulled me over, and demanded to know what you were up to," Silas said. "So since he was the one with the gun, I followed his lead," Silas explained, all the while holding his hands up like he was under arrest.

  "I had it handled," I said to Gerald and pulled my hair up into a ponytail then secured it with the holder Silas conveniently handed to me.

  "Yeah, sure you did," Gerald smirked. "That's why you were about to break your leg jumping from a fire escape while those guys shot at you. You would've been dead in a minute if I hadn't shown up when I did."

  "In your dreams," I said and rolled my eyes. "Because of you, I rode half naked with my butt in the air down the street for everyone to see. I'll be lucky if I don't end up on YouTube before the night is over. How exactly am I supposed to explain that to Tyler?" I tossed my hands in the air.

  "Tell him you dressed like a prostitute to go undercover, and when some drug dealers started shooting at you, I saved your perky little ass." Gerald shrugged.

  "Yeah. The truth. That's what I'll tell him. Why didn't I think of that?" I asked sarcastically. "And you didn't save me," I added.

  There was no way I was telling Tyler about this night. No. Way.