Lust and Lies 04 - Pretty Maids in a Row

newsman and a cop made poor bedfellows but the guy didn't have to get insulting. "I have no intention of risking my neck only to bury the story. I'm a professional. I know just what I can and cannot report to keep from jeopardizing a case." Quick was clearly not convinced. David had two choices—drop the whole thing or come up with a compromise. "I'll agree to giving you a preview of what I'm writing, then seriously consider any revisions you suggest with an open mind."
    Another few seconds passed before Quick gave in. "All right. I don't have any better idea. You'll have to be the front man."
    Number Two stood up. "I'll put in an emergency request for the money and set up the equipment to trace any calls going into his hotel room. I'll stay with him while he waits."
    "I wouldn't count on the trace helping much," Number Three put in. "More than likely the call will come from a throwaway phone without GPS. We'll have to come up with a different way to wire him for sound in case they strip him again. And a homing device, so we don't have to follow too closely after he gets the call. We have to figure somebody may be on the lookout for heat following him." He walked over and threaded his fingers through David's hair.
    David jerked his head away. "What the hell?"
    Number Three grinned. "It's perfect. A few snips underneath, two drops of super glue, and no one would ever guess he's got bugs in all those curls."
    Another couple hours passed before David and Reese—Number Three had finally deigned to give his name—returned to the hotel room to wait for the call.
    It was determined that David would have to sit through the videos long enough to be positive about what he was seeing. Three taps on the bug in his hair would signal Agent Quick that the jackpot was waiting for him to come scoop it up. There were no guarantees about David's safety. The best they could offer was to arrest him along with D'Angelo. If he was good enough at acting shocked and scared, maybe D'Angelo wouldn't immediately figure out who'd set him up. David assured them that he understood the risks of what he was about to do.
    At midnight, the call came in from D'Angelo himself. It took less than a minute for him to give David directions.
    "Hold it," David said, responding to Reese's hand motions to extend the call. "Just so we don't have to go through this twice, I wonder if you could have another one or two of your products available."
    "Such as?"
    "I know someone who likes his, uh, entertainment, on the young side."
    D'Angelo laughed. "No problem. We'll make that the appetizer before the main course. I'll wait for you until one. After that, I split."
    Reese gave David a thumbs-up at the same time D'Angelo cut off. The conversation had been recorded though it had been too short to trace. "You'll be followed, that's for sure," he told David. "He wouldn't have given those directions so easily unless he had a plan to make sure you didn't have a tail of your own."
    David made a point of driving safely and slowly to make sure D'Angelo's shadow was satisfied that he was coming alone. He reached the location, a warehouse in Hialeah, west of Miami, with fifteen minutes to spare. When he saw Butch standing outside one of the garage-type doors, he hoped the homing device glued to his scalp was still functioning. As soon as the bodyguard was positive David had come alone and no one was hiding in the trunk, he directed him to park some distance away.
    David was amazed that he was able to walk back without his knees giving out. Butch raised the door and waved David forward.
    All David could see in the dark interior was a barrier of drywall with a very narrow door on one side. The giant opened it, motioned David through, then closed the garage door behind them. The next instant, a dim light came on from a lamp across the room where Mick D'Angelo was seated.
    Directly ahead of David was a large flat-screen television, and to one side was a double bed covered by a dingy-looking, rumpled sheet. A dripping air conditioner in the upper corner of the back wall was putting out more noise than cool air, but at least it was enough to keep the windowless room from being suffocating. Between the air conditioner and the sound-absorbent tiles covering the ceiling and walls, David figured almost anything could go on in there without anyone outside questioning it, particularly in the middle of the night when the place was deserted as it was now.
    D'Angelo waited until David's