Their captain insisted that they drive separately to the party, which made Jack even more on edge. He’d wanted to go together, but Lorena agreed with the captain that it would be easier to split up once there if they weren’t seen together in the first place. She was probably right, but he still worried. They were finishing their briefing in the conference room with their captain and some of the officers, Bob included, who would be working surveillance on the party from unmarked vans quite a distance away. Neither of them would be able to go in armed according to the cross-dresser, Darlene.
“Everybody on the same page?” their captain asked tensely.
The crowd’s response was unanimous to the positive. He’d made it quite clear that he didn’t want any mistakes made. Lorena would have a tiny listening device and tracker inside the padding of her bra where it would be undetected unless the guards made them strip, which was out of the question. Jack would wear a matching device in the buckle of his belt. They weren’t the most complicated, high-tech listening devices he’d ever seen, but they should suffice for the job.
He glanced across the eight-foot table at Lorena, who caught his stare and frowned. She seemed nervous. He hoped she could pull this off. He wasn’t opposed to shooting his way out of there later, but it would help if he had a gun. One of the younger detectives standing next to her glanced down at Lorena with undisguised appreciation, but he looked away quickly. She was stunning in a black, spaghetti strap dress that was slim-fitting and hit at mid-thigh. It wasn’t trashy or cheap looking. They would never gain entry dressed like they were headed out to the local watering hole. Or if they saw the rumpled mess she usually wore to work. Her black four-inch stilettos made her seem a little taller. Her dark hair, typically in a messy ponytail or pulled high on top of her head in a sweaty, post-work-out twist, was hanging down and laying in soft, thick waves about her shoulders and halfway down her back. She sure didn’t look like she spent most of the day at the island digging around for clues. She even appeared to be wearing makeup which set off the hazel of her eyes. He saw quite a few of the men in their precinct spin in their chairs to take a gander when she’d walked in about an hour ago, but they’d turned right back around when they realized it was Lorena. He wasn’t sure why, but a lot of them didn’t seem to like her. She seemed fine to him, other than her strange little habits and odd idiosyncrasies. She was smart as hell, which was a welcomed change in a partner, in his opinion. He’d had plenty of dumb partners over the years who mostly got in his way. Maybe they were jealous of her high number of closed cases. Perhaps they carried grudges that she’d made detective at such a young age. Maybe she’d rebuked most of them. Knowing what little he did of her, he highly doubted if Lorena Evans took the time to date. Her life seemed very full and busy since she was raising her niece and working sixty and eighty hours a week as a detective. He could relate. He’d always wanted kids, but it didn’t seem like something that was going to be possible in his future with the career path he’d chosen. He respected Bob for having a wife and kids. He seemed to have it all worked out. Jack respected Bob’s wife even more. He knew how difficult it was to raise kids mostly alone while the spouse was working on a police force. It was a hard enough job as a single man without dragging kids into it. The hours were long. The job stressful. But sometimes they’d catch a genuine bad-guy and that made it all worth it. Sometimes they’d catch a really, really bad person like this Gingerbread sicko and that made it worth the struggle ten times over.
When everyone else but the three of them left the conference room to pack up for the trip into surveillance vehicles, Jack approached Lorena.
“You ready?” he asked softly.
“Sure,” she said with false bravado. “If it means catching this freak, then I’d walk through fire.”
“You may well be, kid,” Bob put in.
“We got this,” she said, eyeing Jack. “Right?”
“Yeah, we can handle it. Just keep your ear pressed to the pavement in there. If you think you are getting into something over your head, then signal me like we talked about. I’ll try to hover but not too close because it’ll seem suspicious.”
“I’ll be ok. This isn’t my first undercover assignment.”
“Yeah, we’ve used the kid before,” Bob said. “Used to send her into high schools and colleges to pick the brains of the brainless. Now you’re getting too old looking for that.”
She punched her partner’s arm playfully.
“This isn’t high school or a frat party,” Jack reminded her. “Be careful in there.”
Lorena hit him with a flash of fire in her eyes. “You, too.”
They left the precinct, Jack following her and the team following him. Once they made it to the seedier end of town, he split off from Lorena. He had to stash his Jeep somewhere close but not close enough to be seen. People in this circle didn’t drive around in four by four’s. Her sleek BMW was going to fit right in with the crowd of expensive vehicles.
He parked a few blocks away and walked quickly to the warehouse. Valet parking was even available, but he spotted Lorena pulling into a spot near the outer edge of the lot where very little light was available. He knew this was on purpose. Other people were parking their vehicles or using the valet service. He noted at least a half dozen men and women, some together, walking toward the abandoned steel mill. They were all dressed to the nines and were wearing masks and half masks to conceal their identities. Jack pulled his half mask out of his jacket pocket. He slid it down over his face as Lorena exited her BMW. She also pulled on a mask, one that was more intricate and feminine than his. One of the junior detectives had purchased them for Jack and Lorena a few days ago.
He fell in behind her and even allowed a few other people to go ahead of him. The cross-dresser had been right. There were two, very large, armed guards working security at the door, and a man with a mask taking their invitations. It took a few minutes waiting in the long line to gain entry, but they finally did.
To say he was stunned would have been an understatement. The rusted old steel mill had been completely transformed. There were still underlying hints of the old factory here and there, but draperies were hung to conceal most of it. A temporary bar was set up along the east wall where at least six or seven bartenders worked. A DJ was spinning at the other end of the wide room, the beats thumping and reverberating off the walls. Cocktail waitresses dressed scantily worked the room carrying trays of drinks. He could go for a cold beer but accepted the small glass of brandy instead that was offered by a blonde server. The lights were low and he nearly lost sight of Lorena within a few minutes. He located her at the bar, already flanked by curious men in expensive suits.
Jack circled the perimeter of the room, observing quietly and trying not to be noticed. Couples bumped and gyrated on the raised wood floor of the temporary dance floor. Another waitress approached him with a tray, but he let her know his drink was still full.
“I’m good. Thanks,” he said to the brunette with mile-long legs in a micro short mini dress.
“These aren’t drinks, honey,” she said with a smile, her straight white teeth showing.
She lowered the tray and offered him a look. He wasn’t surprised to find just about any drug that one could wish for displayed so openly on the silver tray. There were rows of cocaine, pills, blue pills, which he knew had to be Viagra, and even marijuana. He accepted two white pills with a nod and she left. Jack pretended to swig the pills with his drink but secretly pocketed them. Most of the people at the party were not pretending to take the drugs. He witnessed the waitress offer the drugs to others and they all imbibed in something from her magical offerings on the silver tray.
He made eye contact with Evans, who nodded almost imperceptibly toward him to let Jack know that she was fine. He wandered toward an exit area near the back of the dance room, where he noticed red light bulbs strung down a long corridor. They both knew the possible emergency exit areas where they could make a surreptitious escape should the need arise. He passed a couple in the hall who were making out. The man had his hand up the woman’s dress, and she was making a play for the zipper of his pants.
Jack walked further down the hall and came to an open room with no door. He saw what he expected to see. There were mattresses spread around the room and people were in various states of dress and sexual contact. A woman on her hands and knees being pounded from behind by another man with a beer gut beckoned him into the room. Jack held up a finger as if telling her that he’d be right back. He turned away with disgust and kept going.
He came to the end of the hallway and turned right going further into the factory. He passed two more open rooms and came to one that was shut and locked from the inside. The room next to it was the same. Whoever was in those two rooms apparently weren’t into voyeurism. He wished he could get into one of these rooms, though. It sounded like some form of torture or pain-pleasure kink was going on. He turned to head down another hall and nearly ran over a woman.
“Excuse me,” he said and stepped back.
She advanced on him, cornering Jack with his back to the wall, a dim red bulb overhead.
“Wanna’ go in?” she asked, indicating the locked room.
“Maybe,” he returned, trying to seem nonchalant about the circus around him.
“I can get us in there if you want,” she said, her pupils fully constricted likely from heroin or cocaine use. “Or we could go upstairs by ourselves if you’d like.”
He wasn’t sure if she was paid to work the party or if she was a guest. Jack took in her appearance from head to toe. It took less than ten seconds to realize he was talking to an employee. Good. A bored, rich housewife wasn’t going to give him information about the guests because it could reflect badly on herself, too. An employee could be bought. Her blue eyes were bloodshot. Her shoes were a cheap knock-off of Louis Vuitton’s. The short, black leather mini-skirt didn’t quite blend in with the elegant and expensive gowns he’d seen on the other women who were guests. She wore a black, sheer button down top with no bra, exposing her breasts to whoever wanted to look. He didn’t. Her black eyeliner was also a little smudged under one eye, and her red nails were chipped on two fingers. The other women at the party who were there by invite were immaculately turned out like prized racehorses.
“What’s going on in there?” he asked.
The hooker stepped even closer. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yeah, I would actually,” he said.
“So just knock. They’ll let you in. Maybe.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” he asked, curious.
“You look a little too innocent for that room, honey,” she noted and touched her finger to the dimple in his chin.
“I don’t think so,” he argued, tolerating her drug-induced state. “What’s going on in there?” Jack repeated.
“Little spanking. Little tying up. Games. Whatever you’d like,” she admitted.
“Were you in there tonight?”
“Not yet,” she told him. “What do you like?”
She purred and rubbed herself against the front of Jack. He tried not to grimace.
“I’m actually looking for someone,” he lied.
“What do you mean? Oh, wait. What are you?” she asked, sobering instantly. “Fuck. Oh man, you’re a fucking cop!”
“Quiet it down,” he warned with a deadly glare.
“Fuck!” she hissed this time. “Man, you’re gonna get us fucking killed. You know that? This place ain’t no place for cops.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that. But I’m looking for someone, so start talking.”
“I ain’t tellin’ you shit,” she said with venom.
“Start talking or I’ll take your ass in for possession, distributing, soliciting and about ten other things that’ll get your ass jacked up for about a year in the clink.”
“Shit,” she said with a frown.
“Look, let’s be friends, ok?” Jack said, trying to get her to relax and trust him. “I don’t want trouble. Neither do you.”
“Ok,” she finally said.
“Now I said I’m looking for someone. We can play nice, or I can do this the real un-nice way and drag you down to the station.”
“You’ll get us both killed before we even get to the front door.”
“So? I don’t have much going for me anyway,” he goaded.
“Fine,” she spat angrily.
Then she took Jack’s drink and gulped it before handing back the glass.
“I’m looking for a person,” he said.
“Oh yeah? Who? Maybe I’ve seen her,” the hooker offered.
“Not a her,” he said, lying again.
“Oh,” she said, slightly affronted. “What’s he look like?”
“Cross-dresser, likes to wear wigs,” he said, hoping to find their killer hanging out at this freak show.
“There’s a few trannies upstairs. You’re on the wrong floor, baby,” she said. “He a friend of yours or something? I wouldn’t have pegged you for queer.”
“He’s just a friend,” he lied again.
“I could be your friend, too,” she offered, letting her hand slide down to his crotch.
Jack covered her hand quickly, before his lack of interest became obvious, and pressed her hand back down to the front of her. Then he pulled a fifty out of his pocket and gave it to the hooker.
“Thanks,” he told her.
She stuffed the money in the pocket of her skirt. Then she leveled him with a gaze.
“You’re new to these parties, aren’t ya’?”
“Just new to this town,” he admitted.
“Be careful, baby,” she said. “Some of these folks can get a little out of hand if you know what I mean.”
“Like what?” he pushed.
“Don’t go in those rooms I offered to take you in,” she warned in a whisper. “Those are some nasty motherfuckers in there. They like bondage and torture shit. Assholes.”
Whenever Jack was faced with meeting women like her, he always wondered what happened to them in their lives that led them down this road. She was someone’s little girl once. She looked like she was pushing thirty-five, but he knew she was only perhaps twenty-three or so. He just felt sorry for her, for them all.
“Thanks for the tip,” he said. “No trannies or cross-dressers in there?”
“Nah, not in those rooms. Those are gang bang torture rooms. Stay out of ‘em. Your friend’s probably upstairs.”
He discreetly placed another twenty in her hand.
“Thanks. Stay safe,” he said to which she nodded with sad eyes.
With that, his newfound friend wandered away to look for a better customer. Jack made his way back to the main party room again to check on Evans and found her on the dance floor cuddled up to some creepy looking tall dude who was as pale as the white shirt he wore under his suit. She gave him the nod again and he left. He took the stairs to the next floor up where more of the eerie, red bulbs hung suspended from the metal grates of the ceiling. This was way worse than any red light district in Holland on its worst days. He was beginning to feel like he just woke up in some sort of nightmare where he couldn’t get out. A sadistic, demented Alice in Wonderland where her rabbit friend was a pervert and Alice was a paid hooker.
He passed two people, both men, entering a room with a door, but Jack kept going. If Gingerbread was here, Jack was sure he’d find him on the top floor engaged in sizing up his next victim. He set his empty brandy glass on a metal drafting table that he passed and turned left. There was another open room with a second bar and more loud music. He saw a few of the cross-dressers that the hooker told him about. He watched them for a while but wasn’t convinced either was their killer. Couples were dancing, others making out. None of these people had inhibitions of which to speak, or pride. He also witnessed quite a few men interacting in a sexual manner with other men and the same for a few women.
A man who looked to be in his fifties came up to him and tried to engage in flirting. Jack rebuked him with tact and hit the bar where he’d have a better position to scan the room. Two women snorted coke off of the bar’s smooth top. Jack had to suppress the urge to arrest them. It was as if they were making a mockery of all the years he’d worked in narcotics to get the damn drugs off the streets.
A young cocktail waitress came over to him, offering a tray of pills which he kindly refused. Another woman, older and an obvious guest by the appearance of the giant wedding set she wore on her third finger, stood next to him smoking a cigarette. She was likely in her late forties with long, blonde hair and brown eyes nearly hidden behind her mask. She had smoking lines around her mouth accented by her dark lipstick. Her perfume was too strong.
“Care for a dance?”
“Sure,” he replied, leaving his drink, which he hadn’t tasted anyway. He didn’t particularly care to dance with her, but it was better than refusing too many people and drawing suspicion to himself.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” she speculated as Jack took her in his arms on the small, crowded dance floor.
“Just moved here,” he admitted.
“Oh? Where from?”
“Miami,” he told her honestly. Sometimes when working a case, being honest was easier as long as he didn’t reveal too much. Lies were so much more difficult to keep track of.
“I love Miami,” she said. “We have a condo down there on the beach.”
“Yeah, the weather’s great,” he said, wishing he was anywhere else. Preferably catching Gingerbread.
“I love to sunbathe in the nude,” she told him.
“Sounds fun,” he said, lying through his teeth. She rubbed sensually against him. She had a great figure but wasn’t exactly Jack’s type. One, she was married. Two, she was unfaithful. Both things left a bad taste in his mouth. He’d already played that game once.
“I’m going down in a few months,” she informed Jack. “Maybe you could come with me.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, scanning the room over her head.
She ran her hands down his back and onto his buttocks. Jack tried not to grit his teeth against the revulsion he felt toward her.
“I just got my tits done this summer,” she said. “Wanna’ come to a room with me and check them out? I got the best plastic surgeon in Los Angeles to do them.”
“What’s your husband think of them?” he asked and then could’ve kicked himself. That was exactly not the kind of comment to make at a party like this.
She huffed at him and replied, “He couldn’t care less about them. That’s why I’m here, silly.”
“They look just fine to me,” he said after a sigh of relief that he hadn’t pissed her off.
In the corner, he spotted a tall woman with her back to him wearing a long, blue dress in shiny satin. She had short red hair in a bobbed style. It looked too perfect to be real hair. It had to be a wig. She was tall enough to be a man. She could be his cross-dresser. She could be their Gingerbread. And she was talking to a man in front of her.
“Would you like to take a walk?” he asked his philandering housewife dance partner.
“Hell yes, I would,” she answered quickly, thinking that he’d made up his mind about her.
He was only using her to stroll about the room past the woman with the red wig. She clung to his arm and pressed her new, fake breasts against his bicep. Jack’s disgust with her was outweighed by his curiosity about the woman in the blue dress. Unfortunately, before he could get to her, she left the room with the man in front of her. He watched helplessly as they exited through a rear door and left the room. Her hips were slim and she was very tall. All factors that could point to a cross-dressing male.
Deciding that following was the only option, he led his date through the doors.
“Oh, wait,” she said. “I forgot my clutch.”
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, hoping to ditch her. “Why don’t you come find me?”
“What?” she asked, clearly rebuffed.
“It’ll be fun. Like hide and seek,” he said, watching her eyes light up at such childishness.
“Ooh, I like it,” she said.
“Go on now,” he ordered firmly, which seemed to be what she wanted. She smiled ruefully and left.
Jack stalked down the long dark hall, lit this time with only one black-light bulb. The sounds of people engaged in intercourse filtered into the hallway from many different rooms. Jack peeked into each one as he went, looking for the redhead. He turned right and went toward a dead-end at the end of the short hall. In the room to his right were people engaged in sexual acts, bondage with ropes hanging from the ceiling and a crowd watching. He found the redhead. She was standing with the group of onlookers observing the people in the middle of the room. Jack approached cautiously.