The detective was whistling nonchalantly as he walked down the station hallway. His black hair was greased back and his two-day stubble decorated with a few crumbs from an Italian sub. He made sure the coast was clear and entered a room, locking the door behind him. "How's she holding up?" he asked the deputy on guard.
"She's been sweating it out in there for an hour, as you requested. I think she's about ready to pop," the deputy replied with a smirk.
"Quit fucking around, this is serious," the detective shot back. "We have orders from up top to make this problem go away."
"Oh yeah?" the deputy responded. "What did the boss say?"
The detective looked through the two-way mirror at his suspect. Her face was white with fear as she looked down at the table in front of her, nervously fidgeting her fingers.
"Poor girl has no idea who she's dealing with. She's not playing nice. The boss says to do whatever it takes." The men nodded at each other with resolve and entered the room together, towering over her as they approached the table.
She looked up helplessly as they closed in on her and calmly made her request. "I'd like to make my phone call now."
The detective motioned to the deputy, who walked over to stop the audio recording. "I'm afraid I can't allow that. That's a right that we reserve for upstanding citizens. You're nothing but a whore and an uncooperative one, so I'm hearing, Miss Daria Nicolescu."
Felicia Trésor tried, unsuccessfully, not to flinch when she heard her real name spoken aloud.
"Did you think we wouldn't find out your real identity? We know where you're from, we know what you've been up to. We even know about that sister of yours. And you know quite a few secrets yourself don't you? I'll bet you've got a file on every big shot in town, just waiting for a chance to extort them. Well, that's not going to happen on my watch. I hate to break your heart, little lady, but this department doesn't really work for the taxpayers. This is your last chance, Felicia or Daria or whatever you're calling yourself. You're going to show us the books on your little operation or you're going to find out all about our special interrogation techniques. And when we're done with you, we're going to bring in your sister next and see how well she holds up. We'll even let you watch."
"Felicia!" the voice called out to her. "Felica!"
Felicia yelped and sat up in her chaise, shocked that she had managed to fall asleep in the middle of the day. Her heart was racing and sweat was dripping from her brow as she sat topless in the blazing afternoon heat beside her rooftop pool.
"I'm sorry to wake you, he said it was urgent," Dean explained as he handed over her phone. He tried to avert his gaze respectfully, but Felicia's magnificent, glistening breasts caught his eye as she lay before him sweaty and slick with tanning oil.
"Fine, get out of here. And it's Ms. Trésor to you," she scolded. Her new employee nodded understandingly and stepped back into the house. She could care less about baring her breasts in front of her male assistant; in fact, mercilessly teasing him was part of her daily routine. However, her emotional state as she awoke from haunting memories left her feeling quite vulnerable and she would be damned if any man would ever see her vulnerable again.
"What?" Felicia asked over the phone. The voice spoke in a hushed tone, informing her of the latest development that she had specifically asked him to keep an eye out for.
"You gave me a name—Katrin Olsson. Remember? The BJ Bliss girl? Well, a warrant was signed this afternoon. Vice is going to pick her up today."
"You're kidding?!" Felicia replied in shock.
"Listen, you didn't hear this from me. I'm new to the department, they could have my ass for this," her informant reminded her nervously.
"Of course I didn't hear it from you," Felicia assured him. "I told you how much I appreciate favors and, even more, how much I like to reward them," she added, now in full seduction mode. The wheels in her head were already spinning about said reward: her and her favorite female employees on their knees in their best lingerie eagerly catching spurt after spurt of sticky semen and sharing it with each other in front of a delirious young man who never imagined he could ever experience such pleasure.
"I'll be in touch," Felicia said suggestively as she hung up the phone and turned to the business at hand. She tapped the first emergency contact on her phone.
"Hi Felicia," Crina answered at first ring.
"Crina, I need your help with a police situation. That unlikely scenario that we discussed last week—well, it turns out that we were wrong. How fast can you make it to the west side station?"
****
"You know, we've had our eyes on your business from the start," Officer Malnati explained to Katrin, who was sitting quietly in the back of the unmarked police car. She kept her eyes laser focused on the seat in front of her, trying her best to ignore Malnati's constant attempts to get her talking. "BJ Bliss. I've gotta admit, I love the name! We've seen your online ads well before you became a big news item."
A big news item?! What the hell is he talking about?!
, Katrin was dying to know. She kept her mouth shut.
"Yeah, we figured it's a harmless little racket that you're running. But when that article came out, everyone was looking our way. You made a fool out of us, skirting the prostitution laws like that. You also made a fool out of some unsuspecting husbands too, I might add. Did you ever stop and think, when you were pimping out those boy-toys of yours, that maybe, just maybe a jealous boyfriend or husband with some pull downtown was going to come after you? You've got balls, Katrin. Bigger than mine, I'll admit."
Katrin racked her brain about her previous workshops, wondering about the all of the angry, jealous men she might have left in her wake.
Fuck them
, she decided.
If their wives and daughters and girlfriends wanted to have a little fun, it's not my problem.
"You were very clever, I'll give you that," Malnati continued as he sped through a red light. "We got our hands on one of your workshop consent forms. I'll bet you thought that your ass would be covered with those, huh?"
"Those forms were a good read, the words just flowed off of the page," Officer Rosati chimed in from the driver's side seat.
Malnati chuckled at his partner's assessment and proceeded. "So you aren't selling or guaranteeing any live fellatio practice and whatever happens in your workshops is the spontaneous action of consenting adults? Who came up with the language on the forms, Katrin? Was it that lawyer friend that was riding in the car with you? You know, it looked to me like the two of you were more than just business associates."
Katrin looked out the window, trying to hide her reactions and keeping absolutely silent. She thought about Peter. The vision of him standing on the sidewalk was still lingering from several minutes ago as the the police car whisked her away. He would make his way to the police station somehow. He would figure out some way to get her out of this mess.
