With a calm he did not feel, Flynn asked, “Did you report it to the bus river?”
“Yes, he didn’t see anything. I called nine-one-one, but it just rang. By the time we got to BART, it was still ringing. I hung up and just as I did the van pulled up facing us. I made a run for the train, hoping to find a cop. But there wasn’t one to be found.”
“Did the driver come after you?”
“No, thank God.”
“Did you get a license plate? A description of the driver and the van?”
Nodding, she took her phone from her purse and showed him the pictures she’d taken from the BART train. They weren’t great, but they were good enough to determine the make and possibly the model and year. “There was no license plate, and the driver was wearing a ball cap and sunglasses.”
“Forward that to me as well as the bus route. I can have BART PD check the cameras. I think they store footage for more than twenty-four hours.” After she texted him the photo, he asked, “Has anything like this happened before?”
When she told him about the motorcycle incident and being followed home, his anger mushroomed.
Flynn said very slowly, “Did you report either of those incidents?”
“No, I just figured the motorcycle incident was bad timing on my part. As far as the guy following me, I told Andre. He said he’d keep an eye out when I left each night. It hasn’t happened again.”
“And yet, despite all of that, you went to the club today?”
“I needed my tips and I thought it might be a good chance to get into Boris’s office.”
Flynn stopped her in their tracks. Grabbed her by the arms and lowered his face to hers. “You’re a target now. If you want to stay alive, you don’t invite trouble.”
“Target?”
“Yes. Especially now that Andre lured you into committing a crime with the promise of information.”
“But I don’t have a video. He can’t prove anything.”
“He doesn’t have to, Pink. Don’t think for one minute he’s going to let you off the hook. You made a video once, he’s going to find a way to force you to make another one if you go back.”
“I have to go back. I can’t just stop what I’ve started.”
Taking her elbow, Flynn steered her toward an elevator. “We’ll see about that.”
Chapter Eighteen
As they entered a conference room on the thirteenth floor, Flynn braced himself. Justin looked up from his laptop and grinned as Pink preceded him into the room. If he made one comment about her tits, Flynn was going to flatten him.
“Nice to see you again, Miss—?” he said, extending his hand as he stood.
“Fuentes,” Pink replied, extending her hand and firmly shaking his. The other men and one woman in the room looked up the minute she spoke. Her sweet breathless voice tugged at Flynn’s gut and made his dick throb. “It’s nice to see you again, too, Justin.”
Justin grinned like an idiot, looking everywhere but Pink’s chest. Inwardly, Flynn shook his head. Releasing her hand, Justin stepped back and glanced around the room. As he did, Pink stood quietly, chin up, and with a soft smile said, “Hello, boys.” Then nodded to Sonia Jackson, the only female on the task force. “Ma’am.”
Sonia’s sharp eyes flicked from Pink to Flynn, back to Pink again, before she shot an inquiring look at Flynn. They’d tangled up the sheets about a year ago. It had been one of those “letting off steam after a high-speed pursuit” kind of unions. “Jackson,” Flynn said, acknowledging her.
“Ryker,” she responded.
He felt Pink’s eyes on him and knew that if he looked down at her, she’d know. So he kept his eyes averted.
The silence that had descended around them at her greeting, and the correct assumption from the guys and Pink that Flynn and Sonia had had a fling, was louder than an explosion. Flynn had to hand it to Pink, though; she stood comfortable in her own skin as she met each man’s gaze and Sonia’s with an unwavering one of her own. One of Justin’s men, Maddox Price, who had been at the bachelor party, turned just as he was pouring a cup of coffee. His jaw dropped as he halted his action midstream. Flynn’s mood deteriorated. When Price flashed his megawatt smile, Flynn’s hands fisted.
“Hello again, Wild Style,” Price said, his voice low and gravelly. The tone left no doubt about what he was thinking.
“Miss Fuentes to you, Price,” Flynn growled.
Price set the coffeepot back on the burner, then his coffee cup next to it, never taking his eyes off Pink. “Miss Fuentes,” he said stepping toward her, extending his right hand. “Maddox Price at your service.”
Flynn just bet he was. Probably getting a hard-on remembering what was under her top. Son of a bitch!
Pink smiled, a slight blush pinkening her cheeks. As she shook his hand, she batted her eyelashes. “Thank you, Mr. Price,” she said softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Flynn could have sworn he heard the guys behind him inhale painfully. Yeah, she had that effect on each one of them. Flynn cursed himself for bringing her here. It bugged the shit out of him that Justin and Maddox had seen her half-naked, giving him a lap dance.
Damn it all to hell. It was too late now, and despite his feelings, he knew he had made the right call.
That didn’t prevent Flynn from spearing Price with a glare that had no effect on him at all. The bastard kept Pink’s hand in his and stood grinning at her like the fool he was. Flynn knew exactly what was going through the guy’s mind’s eye. Justin’s too, even though Justin had a steady girl. How could any red-blooded man get the vision of Pink’s lush tits out of his head?
Clearing his throat, Flynn moved toward the interloper, but said for all of the gathered men and woman, “I explained to Miss Fuentes that I’d be introducing her to a group of professionals.”
In unison they nodded, agreeing quickly, dragging their eyes from her and back to their tablets on the conference table. When Price continued to hold Pink’s hand, she smiled and tactfully disengaged. Then she moved to stand beside Flynn, giving the impression to the room that she was with him.
Shooting Price a stay-the-hell-away glare, Flynn pulled out a chair beside him and indicated Pink sit there. When she did, Flynn pushed her in and continued, “Miss Fuentes has a problem that we may be able to help her with and she in turn may be able to help us out with a problem of our own.”
Taking the seat beside her, Flynn made it clear she was under his protection. Justin nodded and moved around to the head of the table and his laptop. “Miss Fuentes, is it okay if I ask you a few questions?”
“Yes, as long as you reciprocate.”
He smiled. “I’ll answer what I can for you.”
“Okay, then ask away.”
“How long have you been working at the Surf’s Up club on O’Farrell?”
“Three months.”
He made a notation, then looked up and asked, “What are your duties there?”
“I cocktail and as of this past Saturday, I was promoted to stripper.” She said the words as if she were promoted to head accountant. No embarrassment or explanation, just a simple statement of fact.
Flynn cringed inside, but watched the reaction of the assembled task force members at the table. Each one of them, including Jackson, had their poker face on. Good thing, because he wasn’t in the mood to call one of them out for a snicker or sneer.
“As a stripper, what are your duties?”
Folding her hands on the table she said candidly, “Well, most of the girls dance and strip on stage, but Andre just wants me to do private parties for now. Like the one you, Maddox, and Flynn attended Saturday night.”