Page 7 of Justice for Francesca

Tripoli felt his eyes go wide in disbelief. “What the hell was she doing back in San Antonio?”

The phone buzzed,and when Tripoli hit the speaker button, Triumph’s curt voice came over the line. “The FBI are back, boss.”

“Thanks, Triumph. Show them up.”

Tripoli had known they were here because he watched them approach on his computer monitor, which currently showed a view of the main entrance. At around two o’clock, the original agent had left. Now, just after four o’clock, he was back, only this time, he had a woman with him, and something about her seemed familiar. She was willowy. Blonde hair. Her face wasturned away as they approached the door, so he couldn’t tell if it was actually someone he knew.

Tripoli sat, lost in thought. He was reclining in his desk chair, one arm bent at the elbow, leaning on the hand that cradled the side of his face, and one finger crossed his lips. The other hand gripped the arm of the chair, fingers tapping out Morse code messages, a habit from long ago, the beat helping him think.

When the knock came, Tripoli stood to cross around his desk as the door opened, buttoning his suit coat out of habit. Triumph entered the room with an odd look on his face, causing Tripoli’s inner alarm to go off. “Boss, Special Agent Livingston andSpecial Agent McCabeto see you.”

The two agents walked in as Triumph introduced them, but Tripoli couldn’t take his eyes off the blonde.

“Fleur!” It just popped out unconsciously. He quickly corrected himself. “My apologies. I thought today’s surprises were done.” He held out his hand. “Special Agent Livingston. Special Agent McCabe. It’s good to see you again,” he added to her.

She nodded at him, her cheeks tinged the slightest pink. “You as well.” Francesca’s grip was firm, but the skin was soft.

Two years since he’d felt her skin under his touch. Just the touch of her handshake now brought him instantly back to those moments when her skin had been exposed and he’d had the ability to feel just her beneath his hands. His hand to the small of her back when guiding her from one place to another. Her hand when he’d pulled her out onto the dance floor through the crowd. When they’d danced—her hands and arms, an occasional exposed back, a rare gentle grip to the back of her neck, a drag of his fingertips up her thighs to her waist, or to grip her hips when he’d been behind her.

He tried not to groan at the visceral memories. Instead, he forced himself to focus on her short, well-manicured nailswith just a clear coat of polish. Unfortunately, that turned his thoughts to fantasizing about those fingernails raking along his scalp as he kissed her into oblivion.

A hand to his forearm. He turned.

“Master Tripoli, do you have a moment?”

“I always have a moment for you, Fleur. More than one if you need it.”

“I’m worried. Tilly went to the bar to talk to Master Lobo, but she never came back.”

Her glance darted to Livingston as she let go of his hand, probably hoping the comment would pass without remark. However, when you worked with law enforcement, things rarely slipped by without notice. Livingston clearly observed that Tripoli held onto Francesca’s hand a little longer than necessary, and he certainly felt the tension in the room.

Had it been obvious he’d flashed back in time? Had the pause in conversation been too long?

Obviously, Cruz wanted to confront the elephant in the room because he explained what he knew. “Special Agent McCabe is consulting on this case since she has some experience, I understand, with you and the club scene.”

Tripoli gestured to the seats in front of his desk. “Please, sit. I’m sure you have more questions for me. Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”

The two FBI agents moved to sit. “Not for me, thank you. Frankie?” Livingston asked.

She shook her head to the negative.

Unbuttoning his suit coat, Tripoli sat behind his desk. “Yes, to answer your previous question,” he confirmed. “Two years ago, we became acquainted while she was working on another undercover case. The Library is a BDSM club in Los Angeles, and at the time, I was a partial owner of the club. Some women went missing, and The Library was the common denominator.Luckily, the situation was resolved with a successful rescue of the missing women and the shutdown of the early opening of a sex trafficking ring.” He refrained from mentioning that she had been one of the women taken as an opportunistic kidnapping. While he guessed that it wasn’t unknown, he was fairly confident she wouldn’t appreciate him mentioning that fact.

A single high-heeled shoe on its side in the parking lot. Her car door open. Her purse under the car.

“Yes,” Livingston confirmed, “Officer Axton and Dr. Stonewall asked for the FBI due to the nature of our guest downstairs. Frankie shared your history over the trafficking case. Since you weren’t directly involved with each other, our special agent in charge, Stella Ortiz, decided that she could be a valuable asset in this investigation.”

“I agree. Saves a lot of getting to know your primary suspect as well, I’m guessing.”

Cruz smiled at his attempt to lighten the moment.

Tripoli continued, “Obviously, we would like this to be resolved as quickly as possible, particularly for the woman’s sake. I have instructed my staff to be as cooperative as possible. Triumph is currently downloading all of our security footage of the past twenty-four hours for you. If you need us to go any further back, just let me know.”

“Thank you. I will.”

“Actually,” Francesca interrupted, “I’d prefer to go back a week. We might not need it, but it will prevent us from having to come back later and request it. We’ll also need whatever records you have of who has been a guest of the club or worked at the club for that same time frame.”

Tripoli nodded. “Certainly. My bar manager has already pulled yesterday’s and today’s data, including employees.” He clicked a button on his phone and held it up to his ear. “Michael. Pull the customer, member, and employee data for the six daysprior to what you’ve already done and send it to me, and could you please ask Triumph to do the same with video footage?” He disconnected the call. “It will be just a few minutes before he has that information to me.”

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