Hooked

your mind. What do you think would happen to Walsh’s career if he and I rode off into the sunset? He’d be mocked, his fellow officers would think he’d lost his marbles, all because he got a hard-on for a whore. He’d be finished, and I’d be the cause. Do you think I could bear that responsibility?”
    This time it was Winokaur who kept silent.
    She played with the rice on her plate. “I’m not stupid. I’m going to do my job, and when I’m finished, you won’t have to worry about me messing up your son’s life. That’s what you really wanted to hear, isn’t it?”
    Winokaur didn’t answer for a long moment. “I’m not sure what I wanted to hear. I do know this, though. For all his life, Linc has never had a serious relationship. He’s not a man who has problems attracting women; one look at him confirms that. But I’ve never noticed him taking an interest in any woman longer than a date or two, not that I’ve followed him around and checked his bed on Sunday mornings.
    “I refuse to judge you. We all make choices. I want Linc to be happy. There’s always been a layer of melancholy deep inside him that nothing my wife or I did could lift. Whatever choice he makes, I’ll be behind him. The choice may not be one I’d make, but he’s not me, and I’m not him. He wouldn’t be the first cop to fall in love with a professional. If I’m being truthful, I’d prefer his choice not be you. We’re on the same page, Ms. Dell, so eat your lunch and relax.”
    Relax? I don’t think so, Agent Winokaur. But she forced another bite of food into her mouth, even though it had lost its taste. When they finished, he said, “You know something you’re not sharing about Cooper’s place, don’t you? And it concerns Mario Russo.”
    “Give me tonight,” she said. “If I can’t verify my theory, I’ll tell Walsh what it is. I don’t want to do it now. I could be wrong.” She met his gaze. “Please.”
    “As long as you agree to get the hell out of there if you think you’re in any danger.”
    For the second time in a week, she said, “Deal.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine
    Bad Feeling

    L inc slept fitfully and woke tired. For the last two nights, thoughts of Tawny raced through his mind, one on top of the other, leaving him so confused he wasn’t sure what anything meant anymore.
    Lust. He’d come home on Tuesday and looked it up in the dictionary: intense sexual desire or appetite. Uncontrolled or illicit sexual desire or appetite; lecherousness.
    Yes, Tawny Dell incited strong sexual feelings, but there was more. Something internal he couldn’t explain. He needed to step back and consider what she said about her past, study it objectively. It didn’t help when he got to his desk and found a message from Harry mentioning Mario Russo’s two visits to Cooper’s establishment, the second on Monday night―the night Tawny worked there.
    Linc realized at that moment what Tawny was talking about. The part of her history he’d c onsciously ignored. Tawny Dell engaged in a long-term relationship with the crime boss, among others. Could Linc file that in a folder that read “Never Open”? Could he disregard all the men Tawny had taken money to service over a fifteen-year career? Reality. That’s what she called it, and she was right. Linc didn’t know many men who could put that kind of a woman’s past behind him. Could he? He had no answers. All he knew was he wanted her in ways that defied logic. Tawny, the woman. Not the high-priced call girl.
    He put the conflicting thoughts aside and spent the afternoon working with a rape victim at the hospital. Her information pointed to the same young white male rapist, and she was the only one so far who could make a clear identification. This could be their lucky break. A police artist was with her now.
    After an okay from the captain to stake out Cooper’s place, Linc requisitioned an unmarked car to make sure Tawny went in and came out safely. If she recognized him, she’d be pissed. She had his cell number. If anything went wrong, he’d be there in a matter of minutes. He wanted to call and warn her to be careful, but he didn’t want to bring up what she’d be doing.
    Reality.
    Six o’clock. He’d grab a bite to eat and get in position by nine. Her appointment was at ten, but he wanted to be there early because he’d bet she’d go early and snoop.
    “Come on,” Dennis said, barreling into the office. “We’re gonna take a