Home > Tipsy (Take It Off #5)(11)

Tipsy (Take It Off #5)(11)
Author: Cambria Hebert

He shook his head. “We don’t know who we can trust there. Some of the cops on the force are on the take. It’s the same reason JPD was brought down there in the first place.”

“Plus, some of the crew here might have come from down there,” I murmured to myself.

“Exactly. You’ve been out of the loop here for months. You’ve just now been back to work and mostly it’s been routine stuff. You’re not in the club scene around here, are you?” he asked, a new apprising look coming into his eyes.

I shook my head. “Absolutely not.” Clubs were not my thing, never had been.

He nodded, looking relieved. “You already know this case, details that new recruits wouldn’t understand. We don’t have to brief you on this stuff. Not only will your presence save us time, but frankly, you’re our best option.”

Cramer picked up where Watson left off. “Point blank, Markson, you’re one of the youngest on the PD here, you fit the profile of a guy who might be in the drug business, and you’ve already built an identity that will open doors for us. We need you to do this.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be offended by what he said. It wasn’t every day a guy was told that he looked like a drug dealer.

“I’ll do it.”

Watson clapped his hands with glee. “Good. From here on out, you don’t come to the station. Don’t call. Leave your personal possessions—your cell, your wallet, your car keys—everything on my desk. You’ll get them back when the assignment is over.”

Damn. I hated giving up my car. I loved that thing. But I couldn’t run the risk of it being recognized. This was a fairly big town, but it wasn’t so big that someone might not know the Challenger with the black racing stripe down the hood if they saw it.

“Don’t go home. We’ve rented a new place where you’ll be staying. It’s been outfitted with clothes and food already. Here’s the address.” He handed me a slip that I glanced at only long enough to realize that the location was less than desirable.

“You’re getting two cells. One for regular use; you can give the number to contacts. One that is only to be used to contact the station. Don’t let them find the cell or you’re screwed.”

He droned on for what felt like hours, telling me stuff I already knew and outlining the “crew” of druggies that were in our area. I felt weary already. Dealing with these kinds of thugs was exhausting. You had to be on watch at all times. There was never a moment that I could let my guard down. One slipup could literally kill me or someone else.

When I couldn’t sit another moment, I stood and paced to the office door. “Markson,” Watson called, and I turned.

“I want these SOBs. They’ve been hiding right under our noses for too long. This is our town. If we let them get control of Jacksonville, they’re going to take over the entire area from here all the way to Myrtle Beach.”

“I’m on it.”

He gave a brisk nod. “Their last victim was a thirteen-year-old on vacation. Died of a drug overdose. They’re preying on kids now.”

Fury radiated up from my bones. Punks who pick on kids made me sick. I might not have gotten these assholes last time, but this time… this time they were on my playing field. This time I had the upper hand.

“We have another officer from Raleigh down here working the case. He showed up about the same time we found out about the underground ring here. His name is Slater. He’s been informed about you. He’ll be at the club tonight. He’ll make some introductions.”

Cramer handed me another slip of paper with the address and name of the club I was to go to tonight. It was one of the rowdiest in Jacksonville. Figured.

I committed the address to memory and then dropped it onto the desk. I couldn’t take it with me. Then I committed my new address to memory and left that paper behind too. After I unloaded my pocket and keys, I noticed Watson watching me.

“There’s some clothes in the back. Change. You don’t look like a thug. Hell, you like you’re going on a date.”

“I was,” I said, annoyance in my voice.

“They’ll be plenty of time for dating later,” Cramer said, clapping me on the back.

I wanted to laugh. This was the second time I’d screwed up with Julie. Sure, I might have dates in the future, but they sure as hell wouldn’t be with her.

I glanced at the clock. It was already after eight.

Yep. All my chances with Julie went out the window over an hour ago when I stood her up.

7

Julie

“No way,” I said when Craig turned into the parking lot of a club that I had only heard about but never been inside.

Dee peered at me from the darkened front seat of Craig’s black Hummer. “Come on,” she begged.

“Don’t you know the reputation this place has?”

She shrugged. “I’ve heard it. But sitting at the bar at Chili’s isn’t going to help you forget about being stood up.”

“Neither will you reminding me every five seconds,” I snapped. Then I pressed my lips together. That was bitchy. “Dee—”

She held up her hand. “Save it. I know you’re sorry. You gotta take your anger out on someone.”

But not on my best friend.

“Look, this place is known for a good time. It’s loud; it’s busy. There’s dancing. You need a couple shots and to shake it on the dance floor with some hottie.”

There was something wrong with me. That didn’t sound like fun at all. I thought longingly of my ice cream and sweatpants while Craig parked the Hummer in the nosebleed section where there weren’t even any street lights. I decided to appeal to his manliness.

“You’re going to let your girlfriend go into this bar? It could be dangerous.”

He turned in the seat and looked at me. “So am I.” Then he winked.

Clearly he wasn’t going to be any help.

“Come on,” Dee cajoled. “One drink. It’ll be fun.”

“Fine,” I groaned. We were already here and I looked hot (if I do say so myself).

She squealed and we made our way across the parking lot, my heels teetering unsteadily against the layer of gravel coating the ground. The loud bass of the music thumped through the night air, practically vibrating the ground. The club was up ahead, a large, unassuming building. All the windows were dark—probably being blocked by some sort of covering or a coat of black paint. The entrance looked small compared to the vast empty walls. It was just a single door with one of those push bars across the front and a neon EXIT sign on the front.

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