Page 6 of Of Desire And Deception

I still remembered how proud he’d been when I’d graduated from Quantico and joined the bureau. Two months later, he’d been dead. Shot execution style near the Mexican border. They never found his killer.

I wouldn’t let Trey fade into oblivion like that. I was determined to find out why he was in the same blast that killed Antonella Neretti, the former Don’s wife. We weren’t running an active investigation. The only information I had was a tip that he might have been trying to turn her state’s evidence.

It didn’t quite add up. So I would enter the belly of the beast to discover the truth.

“Look at this one!” Selena practically squealed, holding up a yellow sequined bikini.

I immediately shook my head. “No.”

“Come on, you have to pick something,” she chastised, reaching for another set.

“I did pick something.”

“That babydoll isn’t going to grab the attention you need.” She clicked her tongue. “It’s too pure.”

“Maybe that could be my thing,” I tossed out, pawing through a bin of separates I could assemble myself. “I could be the angelic stripper.”

“Maybe,” Selena echoed, but her voice was full of doubt. “But just in case, you should try on some of these other costumes.”

I acquiesced and reached for the first thing I found. The booty shorts would cover less than my bikini underwear, and the little seersucker top cut low to give a good glimpse at my modest cleavage. Still, it was more coverage than the tiny bikinis offered. “Maybe I can go all cowgirl.”

“I like it,” Selena said approvingly. “This one screams slutty southern belle.”

I giggled and took the tiny skirt and top from her, adding it to my basket. “I think I’ll try all these on to start.”

She followed me to the dressing rooms and waited outside, tapping on the door when I didn’t come out. “Everything okay, Remi?”

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at a woman I didn’t recognize. She was hot and looked more confident than I felt. I tossed my long, dark hair over my shoulder and pushed my boobs up in the bikini top that matched the outfit.

“There’s no way I’m showing you this,” I laughed, turning and shaking my ass. I’d been right; the shorts only covered half my cheeks.

“Oh, come on,” she whined. “Somebody will no doubt see it during surveillance. And you’ll have to take your clothes off in front of strangers every night. Might as well show me now.”

“Fine.” I opened the door and stepped out, twirling so she could see everything.

Selena whistled and broke into a fit of laughter. “Imagine the guys seeing this. Add to that going blonde. You’re smokin’, Remi.”

“I’d rather not imagine my coworkers watching me strip,” I said flatly. “I expect you to volunteer if they want to check up on me. You can come in and pretend to be infatuated with me.”

“With those boobs?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I wouldn’t have to pretend.”

She whipped a dollar from her purse and playfully tucked it into the side of my waistband. I shoved her away and snatched up the money as I retreated to the dressing room. “I’m keeping this!”

I tried on the remaining outfits, and Selena hyped up everything, so I bought it all. It was on the company dime, anyway. After the costumes, we hit the mall to find clothing a young twenty-something stripper might wear. I was already on the older end of the spectrum at twenty-seven, but I could thank my faithful sunscreen use and good genetics for looking younger than my age.

Selena and I parted ways after shopping, and I drove home and packed two second-hand suitcases that looked like they’d seen much better days but, thankfully, didn’t contain any creepy crawlies. I removed the tags from my new wardrobe, packed everything away, then added my toiletries, a new computer, and a few baubles I’d thrifted to fit my undercover lifestyle.

I took one last look around my apartment since it might be the last time I saw it for months. My rent would be covered, and cleaners would come in monthly to ensure everything stayed nice. Then, I locked my computer, phone, and car keys in the safe in my bedroom, walked my suitcases to the nearest bus stop, and caught my new form of transportation.

I’d dressed unobtrusively, wearing faded ripped denim, a grey hoodie, and a pair of well-loved sneakers. The bus moved from my nicer neighborhood to a shadier side of town, though a few blocks over, there were nicer buildings. One of which Cosimo Neretti lived in. It made convenient run-ins plausible should they be necessary.

I hopped out at my bus stop and dragged my suitcases behind me until I reached the run-down stone apartment building. I sighed at the out-of-order sign on the elevator and climbed the stairs, lugging my bags behind me and getting all the arm workout I’d need for a month. Finally, I reached the third floor, panting as I stopped outside my apartment. A surge of excitement coursed through my body as I pulled my key from my purse and unlocked the door to my new studio dwelling.

Apartment 3b was… underwhelming. My shoulders dropped as I realized it would be my home for the foreseeable future. Nondescript greige paint peeled off the walls in places, and the laminate countertops were chipped at the corners. A makeshift screen divided the bedroom and bathroom from the living room and kitchen. At least there were two windows to let a little light in.

“Home sweet home,” I breathed, wheeling my suitcases behind the black screen and tossing them on the bare mattress. I unwrapped a package of cheap metal hangers and put my clothes away in the tiny closet, stashing the smaller bits with my bras and panties in the small dresser. It didn’t take long to get everything put away, and the bed made. I’d have to pick up something warmer than the blanket I’d bought as the weather turned cooler.

The suitcases didn’t fit in the closet, so I lined them up next to the dresser. The fully furnished apartment came with a questionable black futon in the living area, a small scuffed coffee table, a TV stand somebody no doubt left behind because there was no TV, and a few sparse dishes, pots, and utensils in the kitchen. It was like an Airbnb you’d call and report to the company.

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