Free Complicity in Heels by Matt Leatherwood Jr.

out loud. Confession never had felt so good. It was both raw and liberating. He was fully aroused now.
    “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Lacey praised him, taking notice of his erection.
    The buxom blonde put the Beretta back on “safe” and set it on top of the nightstand. “Okay, I think you’re ready.”
    “More than you know,” Victor said. He quickly got undressed and followed Lacey to the bed.
    She took a seat near the edge of the mattress, set the alarm clock radio for the remaining time left, and leaned back. “Just so you know, time’s up when the alarm sounds.”
    Victor shrugged. “Got it.”
    “Good,” Lacey said, flinging her legs apart.
    Victor grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer to him. “You’re expensive yet effective.”
    “Have to be,” she said matter-of-factly. “Repeat business is crucial.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    N ikki watched the taxi disappear down the winding road into the night. She continued up the ramp of the warehouse toward the cargo door, ducked under the partially raised gate, and entered the building. Inside, it was cold and dark. The energy-efficient lighting cast a faint glow by which to navigate. Rows of empty freight racks extended as far as Nikki could see. An open space in the distance revealed a midsize modular office constructed out of a shipping container.
    Cautiously she approached it and positioned herself to the side of the door. Nikki took a deep breath then checked the handle to see if it was locked. It wasn’t. She opened the door and immediately jumped.
    A short, stocky man with round wire-rimmed glasses loomed in the doorway. He wore a traditional navy-blue suit, a white shirt, and a red-and-gray square-patterned tie. Gone were the off-the rack short-sleeve oxfords and tan slacks from the past, along with the wedding ring. The only thing familiar to Nikki was the man’s government-regulated hairstyle. “It’s about time,” he said, recognizing her.
    Nikki slapped him across the face. “Nice to see you too, Harlan. You should visit more often, you know.”
    Harlan’s round face creased in pain. “Fair enough…I deserve that,” he said, rubbing his cheek. “What’s it been? Four years?”
    “Something like that and not a single visit from you or anybody else on this task force.”
    Harlan removed his glasses, took out a handkerchief, and wiped them clean. “Operational security.”
    Nikki noticed that his former generic frames had been replaced by an expensive Matsuda version. “Operational security? Is that what you’re going with?”
    “Precisely. Prisons are cesspools of corruption, inhabited by snitches, opportunists, and guards on the take. The last thing I wanted to do was risk your life over a meet, just to boost your lack of self-esteem over parental abandonment issues.” Harlan put his glasses back on. “Even if we used the best ruse to follow up with you, there was no guarantee you wouldn’t have been made. One dead federal agent is too high a price for the Crime Enforcement Task Force to pay. We’re just a provisional team sanctioned by the Justice Department and tolerated by the FBI. Don’t think there aren’t law enforcement bureaucrats out there who wouldn’t hesitate to try to shut us down over such a tragedy.”
    Nikki clenched her jaw and took in a deep breath. Harlan was right. If Warden Penton could get away with viewing inmates in the nude at Shaw, anything was possible. “Why’d I have to do the extended time?” she asked. “‘Eighteen months tops—that’s what you said.”
    “You knew the risks when you were selected for the task force,” Harlan reminded her. “Just be thankful you didn’t have to do the whole five years.”
    Nikki narrowed her eyes. “Don’t patronize me.” I could’ve handled it , she thought.
    “Fine. Have it your way.” Harlan stepped aside and motioned for her to enter the office.
    “Nice suit,” she remarked, commenting on his new look.
    Inside, another government