Hooked

door.
    Benny walked alongside him. “I’ll show you out.”
    In the lobby, Linc asked, “Was Martell a customer here?”
    “What do you mean, customer?” Benny said. “Customer for what?”
    Linc got right in his face, his patience exhausted. “You can bullshit all you want, Benny, but you run a whorehouse. I can have this place closed down in fifteen minutes. So don’t play stupid. Truth is I don’t much care about your business. I don’t care who comes here to get laid, who services them, or how much they pay. Places like this have been around since the beginning of time, and they’ll be here long after you and I have returned to dust.
    “But I do care that two young women are dead, and I think you had something to do with their murders. And if anything happens to Tawny Dell, I’ll personally see you spend the rest of your life in a place where the gangbangers will have you for their personal fuck. Do I make myself clear?”
    Benny’s smug smile disappeared. He started to say something but stopped.
    “What?” Linc asked. When Benny didn’t answer, Linc said, “You’re in over your head, Benny. It won’t be prostitution charges anymore; we’re talking multiple murders.”
    Benny blew out a breath. “Either I go to jail or I get a bullet in the back of my head, Walsh. I’m fucked either way.”
    “My way you’ll stay alive.”
    After hemming and hawing, Benny said, “Tawny was okay when she left, and I don’t know where she went.”
    “Who was she with?”
    Benny started to reply, but Russo strutted down the hall. “Officer Walsh,” he called. “I’ll walk out with you.” He made a big deal out of yawning. “It’s past my bedtime, and I have to get up early in the morning.”
    Benny shrugged helplessly. He’d never say anything with Russo around.
    “Good night, Detective,” Benny said. “Good night to you too, Mario.”
    “Night, Benny. I enjoyed this evening. We’ll have to do it again sometime.” His gaze steady on Benny, he said, “Soon.”
    Benny closed the door, and the three men stepped outside onto the stoop. Dennis descended the stairs and walked toward the alleyway a few doors down.
    Good, he’s checking the back exit to see if Steele saw anyone leave.
    Linc was astounded at the crime boss’s gall. There were no threats Linc could make to a dying man, no words to convince him to tell him where Reggie Cart had taken Tawny, if that’s what even happened. But he had to try.
    “Where is she, Russo?”
    “You mean Tawny? Why would I know?”
    “She has to mean something to you after all the years.”
    Russo nodded. He looked down the street and took his time. “She means a lot to me.” Then he met Linc’s gaze. “Best whore in the city, and believe me, I’ve known most of the good ones. Smart, sexy, and incredibly beautiful. Most perfect breasts I ever sucked into my mouth. I can taste them as we speak. That woman knows how to bring a man to the edge of paradise and carry him over.”
    Russo’s pale, gaunt face gave off an almost holographic glow in the dim light of the street lamps, his dark eyes steady, the smug curl of his lips. Linc wanted to stop him, recognizing a bizarre sense of betrayal to the woman who had burrowed her way into his heart. But some perverted curiosity riveted him to Russo’s every word.
    “Have you had the pleasure, Walsh? It doesn’t take much to open her legs. Only a few thousand dollars. Off your pay scale, I imagine. But the best part is after all the years she’s been in the business when you put it in her she’s still as tight as a virgin. Isn’t that amazing? In fact, Benny gave her to me Monday night as a present. She got me off, too, even though the debilitating effects of the chemo have wreaked havoc on my libido. Only someone special has those magical powers. Bet she failed to mention that, didn’t she?”
    Linc’s fists were clenched so tight his nails dug into his palms. Never in his life had he wanted so badly to lay someone out. Not in his youth when anger had been his soul mate; not in Iraq at the bastards who took his best friend’s legs. However misguided, those people were fighting for a cause. Russo was plain evil, as toxic as the malignant cancer that ravaged his insides.
    All the talk of the gentleman don, the ethical mobster who wouldn’t pray on the weak, was so much bullshit. Linc willed himself calm, relaxed his fists, and swallowed the venom bubbling like a witch’s brew in his gut. He wouldn’t