Page 42 of What About Love

“Yep. I’ve got a whole three and a half days under my belt this week alone.” Angie’s attempt at humor fell flat. Val didn’t smile or laugh, frowning instead with concern. “Don’t worry about it. This is an assignment, like any other. That’s all.”

Val gave her a disbelieving look.

“Okay, maybe not quite like any other.”

“Have you any idea what’s in store for you here, Angie?”

“Yes, uh, that is to say, I’ve never done this type of undercover work, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I know T and have been going to Club Decadence for years on their open submissive nights to hear a friend of mine perform.”

“Elena, yes, I had the pleasure of catching a show once. She’s amazing. But the lounge is a far cry from the dungeon.”

“True, but I got a taste of that the past three nights and have done a few scenes. I’ve also been pretty much submersed in the whole D/s theme lately, what with working at Rossi and several of my family being active members.”

Clearly troubled, her frown deepened as she murmured, “I’m afraid you’re in for a shock, honey. I’ve been to the club in San Antonio, LA is nowhere near as tame.”

That got her attention. Public spankings, floggings, wax play, whipping posts, and people openly having sex in front of huge crowds was tame? Good heavens!

“T will take care of you though. He’s a good guy.” With an assessing look and a soft smile, she pressed forward a bit as she continued. “I have to admit I’m disappointed. I thought he’d finally gotten his head out of his ass and found himself a good woman. His wandering ways, with a different sub every night won’t bring him happiness.” The last part, she muttered under her breath, but Angie still heard. “I’ll move him to the room across the hall.”

A few minutes later, she followed Val down to administration. They joined T and Eric in the conference room where they were already poring over the case files.

As soon as they had a seat, a solemn-faced Eric started right in. “Val is here because she knew the three missing subs...” He stopped, his expression darkening. “Sorry, it’s four now. She knew them all personally, so I’m going to let her fill you in on their backgrounds.”

He passed her the stack of folders, and she opened the first one, withdrawing a picture and holding it up.

“Elaine Danson.” Like Eric, she was serious and completely professional, but her hand shook visibly. She impressed Angie by not wasting time with unimportant details. “A tall redhead with green eyes. Unattached. She’s been a club member since it opened. By day she was, um, I mean, sheisa beat cop with the LAPD.”

Angie glanced up at that and met Val’s troubled gaze. Eric, who sat beside her, slid closer, catching her hand in his and giving it a firm squeeze. She didn’t let go as she continued.

“She said being a badass and dealing with thugs all day made her yearn for a place where she could be the complete opposite. She wasn’t into anything too heavy, preferring light play and bondage. Elaine was a sexual submissive, not 24/7, in search of a sensual, romantic dom. She told me once she wanted long-term, hoping to find that someone special who could also be a husband and father one day.”

Elaine’s story hit too close to home for Angie.

“Got it,” she acknowledged with a nod, trying to move Val along to the next victim. Her intelligent and very perceptive eyes rose to her face, studying her speculatively for a moment. Angie felt an urge to explain, had opened her mouth to, in fact, but Val shook her head, stopping her before she’d begun, and moved on without comment.

Sitting back, Angie thought of all the times she could have used Val in an interrogation room in the past. Suspects would have been squirming and spilling their guts in seconds, without realizing how or why they were doing it.

“Marilyn Phelps,” she said quietly, continuing on with victim number two. “Age thirty-two, also tall and curvaceous, but she was a blonde with hazel eyes. She and her former dom recently divorced. Of course, the police questioned him first, but he had a solid alibi. Eric and I knew them fairly well. Their breakup was a surprise to everyone. I’m thinking it was at her insistence because it’s obvious he still loves her and is inconsolable. Those poor little girls.” Her voice broke at the end.

Eric’s free hand swept up her back. “If this is too much—”

“No,” she cut in with a sniffle. “I want to help find them. This is nothing compared to what they must have had to—I mean, what theyareenduring.”

He nodded, squeezing her hand and brushing her long curls with affection. Then, as if to say to hell with this, Eric pulled her into his lap.

“Continue, but you’ll do so from right here.”

She gave him a watery smile. Resuming her task with his supportive arms around her, she slid the next photo toward Angie and T.

“Felicia Mulrooney, the youngest at twenty-six. She was a budding author with one book published last year that did well. Another is due out in a few weeks. I have her first book, though I haven’t had time to read it.”

“Let me guess,” Angie cut in gently. “Also tall, curvy, and unattached.”

“Yes. A pattern has emerged.” Val opened the last folder, the thinnest. “The latest victim is Alisha Gray. Age twenty-nine. She’s the tallest of them all, at least six feet with long wavy brown hair. When she joined, she had a dom. That ended about six months ago and she’s been actively looking. I know little else about her, except she’s an actress. You might recognize her from TV. She has a supporting role in a popular drama. I’ve never seen it, although I’ve heard it’s a wonderful show.”

Angie shook her head, not having much time for TV and certainly not a drama. She had enough of that in her life as it was. Pausing, she studied the photos and her notes. “At first look they have age, height, and build in common, as well as being submissive and members of the club. That’s not much to go on.”

“What were they like?” T asked, interjecting for the first time. “Quiet, bratty, did they draw attention?”

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