Broken Falcon, page 14
What’s wrong, Desiree? he asked in the chat.
He couldn’t tell if she wanted to answer or not. Did she look…scared?
“Thor, it sounded like you were up for some fun? Guys, Thor and I are going to chat for a bit, but I’ll be back later if anyone else is looking for company tonight.”
A moment later, she and Thor were gone. Chase clicked the button to leave the chat, having no idea if he would log on later. Maybe Falcon should log in?
What did the message say? Was there any chance she would call him?
Everything about this situation sucked.
What if she was in danger because of him?
Eden called Penny as soon as she was done with Thor. She would make this call, then get back in the room. She’d only made half of what she needed for the night, but she still had three hours in her scheduled shift.
Who knew that in working for herself, she’d have to keep even more rigorous hours than before?
But then, with CamDames, she hadn’t had any overhead. They’d even paid into her Social Security and Medicare. Now it was all on her.
Penny answered in a groggy voice. “Why don’t you ever text?”
“Because I don’t like written records of our conversations.”
“Why? You doing something illegal?”
“No. I just don’t want messages about CamDames on my phone. I figured you were the same.”
“Oh. Yeah. I suppose. Why are you calling about them? You don’t work there anymore. Aren’t you living the high life as a free agent? Making all the money?”
“I wish. Listen, did you see a guard with a sling? I really need to know.”
“You’re still fixated on that?”
“Uh. Yeah. So did you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
“What do you mean maybe? Either someone is in a cast or sling or not.”
“I don’t really pay attention to the guards. Not unless I’m looking to score a bonus by turning a trick. But even then, it’s more lucrative to screw an executive than a loser in security.”
Eden stifled her sigh. Penny was a willing sex worker, but still, there was a power dynamic in engaging with the men whose job it was to protect them and right up the hierarchy of the men who made them look good on the screen to the men who ran the company.
Everyone at CamDames knew that if a woman wanted a shift in a prime room where the high rollers frequented, a fast fuck with the boss could go a long way. It was hardly shocking given that they were all sex workers. But still, power dynamics were power dynamics, and that was one reason she’d opted to strike out on her own.
Penny couldn’t be more than twenty years old. The CEO was fifty and raking in millions. Eden would have started a union if she thought she could get away with it.
“Listen, I got a message on my site tonight. It was the guy with the sling. He’s after someone named Jasmine. I don’t like anything about this. Your shop was bombed. I’m becoming more and more convinced this is about you.”
“If it’s about me, then why are they messaging you?”
Well, fuck. That was a good point.
“Because they know I would call you?”
But damn. Penny was right. They’d found her online, which meant he was from CamDames and he’d seen her that night. She’d taken more than half her regulars with her when she moved, and the company hadn’t been thrilled by that. Company executives almost certainly knew her domain name and they could get around IP blockers with ease.
If they revealed who she was, they could ruin everything. She’d sunk her whole life into this. She needed the money for school. To live. To reach for her dreams.
They could destroy all her dreams by exposing her.
She wrapped up the call with Penny and hung up.
What should she do?
Had the response to her silly survey been a threat? Did they expect her to stand in for this Jasmine person?
Who was she, and why did they want her?
Should she call Chase and tell him everything?
Her heart squeezed at that. She didn’t want to hear judgment in his whispery voice or see it in his eyes if she told him what she really did for a living.
But he might know who this Jasmine person was. She had no doubt he was keeping secrets about the reason the Raptor operative and Isabel Dawson had been in the shop that night.
She pulled up his contact info and debated calling, but in the end, she set down the phone and logged in to her website. She needed five hundred more dollars tonight before she called it quits. She’d slacked a lot the last two weeks and was paying the price with her low bank balance.
It was time to focus on the job that would pay for the schooling she needed to achieve her dreams.
Chapter Fifteen
Mothman had a line on another runaway. The grab would happen tonight—a damn short lead time that was probably the result of the interceptions Chase had made over the last five months.
From her photo, he guessed Ariel was fifteen.
The same age Eden had been when her parents had married her off.
Jesus. Every time he thought of that, he wanted to punch someone. How the hell had she become the confident, alluring, dynamic woman she was after that?
They didn’t have time to do a detailed search for the girl based on her photo, but he could be in place to intercept her and get her to safety before Sling Man and Terry showed up.
The location was new, but that wasn’t a surprise. But it was close to the CamDames office in the city, which did surprise him. But then, maybe they didn’t have time to scope out a new pickup spot, and at least there, they controlled most of the street cameras.
Chase studied the map, then called Mothman. “Something about this isn’t right. The timing, the location. It’s too risky for them to pick up an unknown so close to headquarters.”
“I’m thinking the same thing.” Mothman paused, and Chase figured his fingers were flying over his keyboard. He was the best hacker Chase knew, and that included Lee Scott, who did consulting work for Raptor on occasion. But Lee’s government contracts meant he had to stay on the legal side of things, where Mothman was able to fly under the radar with steady employment by Raptor. As long as he kept Raptor’s computers clean, no one looked too deeply into what he did on his own time and machines.
“I think it’s a trap,” Mothman said.
“Ariel is bait, and I’m the bird of prey.”
“You think they know Raptor is involved?”
“If word got out that Isabel and Tricia were at the coffee shop, then yes. And the barista, Eden, told me she recognized Isabel. Who knows who else she told?”
“What did she say when you questioned her the other night, after the explosion?”
Truth was, they’d barely talked about the explosion over wine and dessert. Instead, they’d flirted shamelessly and then he’d gone home and fucked her alter ego virtually. But Mothman didn’t know about Desiree. “She didn’t talk about it with anyone at her usual store. But she said the guy she worked with that night, Tony, probably spoke to his coworkers. She gave me a list of names she could remember from the shift calendar in the back.” He pulled out his notes. “A woman named Penelope, another named Zoe. The managers—Brian and Heather. The last names of the managers should be in the news articles.”
“Yeah. I’ve already run down everything I can on them. I’ll see if I can find last names for Penelope and Zoe. You should follow up with Tony.”
Shit. Yeah. He should have right after the blast. What did it say about him that he didn’t even think of following up with the other witness? The one who actually worked at the store?
His brain was clouded by his attraction to Eden, and that was a big-ass problem.
Sure, it was more likely that Eden, having worked for CamDames, was connected in a way she didn’t realize, but he needed to follow all leads, just like a detective would.
And shit. This meant he needed to tell Mothman about Eden being Desiree. It wasn’t fair to have the guy working blind when Chase had a key piece of intel.
But this would mean Mothman would dive into Eden’s life. Give him background information no one else knew, and that felt like an invasion.
She’d told him about her horrific marriage freely. He didn’t want to know more unless she offered it of her own accord, just like he didn’t want her to know more about what happened to him without him being the one to tell her.
This was messed up.
But he needed to focus on the current lead right now. A girl’s life was more important than his messed-up brain. “Even if it’s a trap, I have to go. We can’t take chances when a girl’s life could be at stake.”
“I’m looking at the map right now. We need better intel on the location.”
“Let’s use a drone. One of Leah’s new prototypes.”
Raptor operative Nate “Hawk” Sifuentes’s fiancée, Leah, was a coder for drones, and she’d been working on a prototype for Raptor for the last few months that was tiny and quiet with a powerful camera. Coming in around the size of a hummingbird, with motion that matched bird flight patterns, it was perfect for up-close surveillance.
“I’ll ask if she’ll let me run a test with it today,” Mothman said.
“Good. I’ll park nearby and be ready to move if there really is a girl. No Isabel or Tricia for this one. No way can we put them at risk when this is probably a trap.”
“We need to send an email changing the meet time,” Mothman said. “How early do we go?”
Last time, Chase had cut it close because he’d been spoiling for a fight. It had been risky for the girl and could well be what had endangered Eden, because they’d seen Jessica run into the coffee shop.
But if he made the meet time too early, there were other logistical problems especially if this was truly a trap. No need to let them know he was taking their bait at all.
“We won’t change the time. Let them believe we never saw this exchange. Make them wonder if I’m going to be there.”
It was an hour after her shift was supposed to end when Eden finally clocked out at the coffee shop. The evening shift replacement had a dead battery and had called and begged Eden to stay until she got there.
Being a team player who understood car troubles, she’d agreed, but it meant she’d have barely enough time to apply makeup before her online shift started at six.
She’d exceeded her goal of a thousand dollars last night and hoped to do the same tonight. She should have upped her hours months ago. If she had, she wouldn’t be in the bind she was in now.
She hurried as she walked the mile between Vivace Coffee and her townhouse. She would have about ten minutes to stuff her face before the makeup ritual began. One of these nights she’d just put on a masquerade mask and be done with it, but knowing her, she’d mess that up.
At least she didn’t have to do full baby-doll makeup like Penny. That would suck. And, frankly, be a little freaky. Guys really liked that kind of thing?
She’d made a promise to herself when she started this job that she’d never do anything she didn’t enjoy on camera. She’d indulge kinks as long as they worked for her. And baby-doll makeup had the double whammy of both not looking human and looking like a child.
Both were a hard no.
She was a living, breathing human woman and wouldn’t turn herself into a caricature or animation for someone else’s pleasure and definitely wouldn’t look like a hypersexualized pubescent girl.
Her phone buzzed, and speak of the devil, the caller was Penny.
She slowed her hurried stride and answered. “Hey, Penny, what’s up?”
Penny spoke in a hushed whisper. “He’s here.”
“What?”
“The guy in the cast you asked about. He’s here. The security guard. And…I think…I think he might be my stalker.”
“You think your stalker—Falcon?—is a security guard at CamDames—and he might be the guy who came to the shop that night?”
“Yeah. And maybe he bombed the shop too.”
“Why do you think it’s him?”
“Falcon always used voice when we were private. I know what he sounds like. His voice is very deep.”
Eden thought of her own Falcon, who also had a deep voice she was certain she’d recognize if she heard it.
“I was outside the break room, and I heard two guys talking. One of them had that voice. I was stunned when he stepped out and it was a guy with a big cast on his right arm.”
“Where are you now?”
“In the bathroom. I couldn’t call from my workroom.”
Yeah, everything that happened in that room was monitored.
“Eden, do you remember what he sounded like? That night at the shop? Can you come here and talk to him?”
“Sure but…your stalker happened months ago. Why are you just noticing his voice now?”
“He never spoke in front of me before. I think he knew I would recognize him if he did.”
“How would I get him to talk? And if he recognized me through the window, he’ll get suspicious.”
“Shit. You’re right. How about you meet me at my car? Like we had plans or something? Then we’ll go inside and say I’m having car trouble and ask security for help.”
“And what are you going to do when the car starts right up?”
“I’m a dumb bimbo to them. So are you. But if I have to, I’ll pop my tire and ask one of them to change it.”
It was reasonable. Lots of the women at CamDames socialized after their shifts. And no one would be surprised that she and Penny were hanging out considering they both worked for Vivace too.
“What time does your shift end?”
“Nine.”
That would give Eden two hours before she’d have to catch the Metro and a bus to get to CamDames headquarters. Times like this, she really wished she had a car. But she needed to do this. If she could identify the guy from the shop that night—and he had a connection to Penny—this was information that could be taken to the police for the bombing investigation. It would mean revealing herself to the cops as a former employee of CamDames, but this guy had injured five people. People could have died.
It had to be done. Maybe the police would keep her identity secret.
“I’ll be there by nine fifteen.”
“Thank you!” Penny said. “I really appreciate this. “If he’s my stalker and he bombed the shop, well, he needs to be caught.”
As Eden hurried home, she realized there was another reason she was doing this. What if Penny’s Falcon was also her Falcon?
She might not recognize the voice of the man who’d been outside the coffee shop two weeks ago, but she knew Falcon’s voice. She heard it every night in her dreams.
Chapter Sixteen
Eden walked with purpose down the dark block. The bus stop was a few blocks away, and this time of night, walking alone was always questionable. But she used to work here and knew the street and how to walk. Plus, she had pepper spray.
She’d considered using a rideshare app once again, but rejected it for the same reason as before: she didn’t like being alone in strange men’s cars, and given that the drop-off point was a shop for online sex workers, it felt extra risky. There was no sign outside indicating what kind of business was inside, but it also wasn’t the best-kept secret in town.
Her pace was brisk as she hurried along the cracked sidewalk. She hadn’t missed this commute.
She glanced at her watch. Her timing was right on the money. Penny had texted her with the meet point by her car parked in the garage across the street. Then they’d go through the motions of noticing the flat tire—Penny said she’d jammed a knife into it during her break at seven—and go inside and bat their eyelashes at the security team and ask for a tire change.
If Sling Man didn’t open his mouth in the exchange, Eden would ask him what happened to his arm.
She felt a prickling along the back of her neck as she entered the garage. It smelled of exhaust and oil and naturally had too many areas that were poorly lit. Parking garages must be designed by misogynistic men because they always felt like they were configured to terrorize.
And it worked. She avoided the even creepier staircase and walked up the ramp to the third floor, where Penny’s car would be.
A bird flitted by. She was always amazed to see them in this most urban of landscapes. The garage didn’t even have potted plants or anything close to resembling a natural landscape, but still, birds would find a way to nest even here.
Cars dotted the first and second floors, including a few luxury ones that indicated the executives were working late tonight. The garage had good security thanks to the CEO wanting to make sure his Tesla went unmolested. Unfortunately, said security might be Sling Man, aka Penny’s stalker.
She rounded the bend of the ramp to the third floor and was shocked to see no cars at all. That was unusual. CamDames was live twenty-four seven, and while this wasn’t the only office with rooms for the Dames to perform, it was the largest. There should be at least a dozen women on camera right now, and this was the Dame floor of the garage.
She felt a prickling of fear. Had they changed the floor designations? She pulled her phone from her pocket. No, Penny specifically said third floor.
So had she left already? But why would she do that? And how? She’d spiked her own tire.
There was a sound behind her. Footsteps.
Penny?
No. It wasn’t the soft click of a woman’s shoes. It was a man’s heavy tread.
Eden darted forward, toward a thick concrete column to tuck herself behind while she figured out what to do.
Nothing about this felt right.
Her heart pounded as she clutched her phone. Should she call 911?
But a glance at the screen told her she wasn’t calling anyone. “No Service” was in the top right corner.
Chase’s heart drummed when the drone camera caught a familiar female shape entering the garage. What the hell was Eden doing here?
