Her heart fluttered as he slammed the door; standing up to a thug came with a price.
A few deep breaths and another coat of Cherry Blossom lipstick later, she went to meet Mario.
Mario’s unshaven face and casual clothes became him as an undercover cop. A far cry from his starched dress blues and perfect hair, he blended in with the everyday tourists and working stiffs of the French Quarter. Over coffee, Mario spilled his guts about his new job on the force. Then Lucy dove into Felipe’s visit. She assured him Felipe was under control.
Mario, his frustration apparent, didn’t hold back. “Never trust a snake.”
She avoided any further talk about Felipe and went right into a plan she’d devised that could make Mario a hero in the eyes of his superiors. Mario thought about her idea, came up with a few suggestions of his own, then said he had to make a call. He stepped outside and returned a few minutes later.
“Stella James will meet you at ten tonight,” he said.
A fake smile was what Lucy showed when she wasn’t sure of something, and this was one of those times. Mario agreed to her plan and warned her to be careful.
Later that night she picked out the perfect outfit, and Wanda came up with a creative hairdo, which was equally crucial, given Mario’s additions to the plan. Dressed and ready to roll, Lucy knocked back a cocktail to calm her nerves. Her taxi beeped outside. She looked in the mirror one more time, then headed out the door.
As she’d expected from the number of cars in the parking lot, The Landmark was packed. She waited at the entrance, and not long after she arrived, Mario walked up with a woman. He introduced Stella to Lucy, then discreetly checked Lucy’s microphone and earpiece. Hopefully, the music wouldn’t drown out Stella’s voice or Mario’s, should he have input. The ladies were ready, and Mario returned to his car to wait for his cue to rush inside and assist.
Nightclubs attracted all types of people, but the prettiest ones got the best seats and the most attention. Lucy and Stella fit that profile perfectly. In fact, they knocked it out of the park in that category.
Lucy looked Stella over. This gal could cuff me any time. Leaning into her, she whispered, “You don’t look like a cop.”
Stella smiled, “I’m not supposed to. Now let’s go party.”
Nightclubs always carried the distinctive odors of cheap cologne and stale cigarettes, and the combined scent hit them both hard when the manager at the podium took Stella’s and Lucy’s hands.
When two beautiful women strolled into a club alone, heads always turned, and the manager took full advantage of the opportunity to show everyone why The Landmark was one of the hottest spots in town. He quickly escorted Lucy and Stella to a preferred table, and Stella slipped him a few bucks.
“My pleasure, ladies,” the man said, returning the money to her but not before running his hand across her back, then a little lower, giving her a squeeze.
They’d been sitting for only a moment when a waiter placed a bottle of champagne on ice in a silver bucket on their table. The waiter pointed to three men sitting nearby. One man raised his glass and said, “You ladies brighten up the room. Enjoy.”
The waiter popped the bottle open and poured.
A fake smile came over Lucy, and she waved. “Thank you.”
Frank Pearson made himself an easy target to spot, once again sporting a royal blue jacket. He was sitting with his usual group of lady friends and his business partner. Lucy nudged Stella and pointed him out.
“What a creep,” Stella said. “He definitely wants to be noticed.”
With a couple of glasses of bubbly under their belts, Stella took Lucy by the hand. “Let’s dance.” They danced their way over to Frank’s table. He took the bait and cut in, taking Lucy by the hand, leaving Stella no choice but to join his friends.
“I’ve seen you here a few times,” Frank said, pulling her closer.
Repulsed to be that near to the creep, Lucy repressed a shudder. “Yeah, a friend told me about this place.” Sliding her hand from Frank’s ear to his chest got a reaction. She let him pull her flush against his body. Even if law enforcement was often her enemy, she was invigorated at the thought of being a bona fide undercover cop, on the job.
At the table, Stella played up the part of a half-in-the-bag drunk looking for something stronger than champagne. Lucy could hear Stella’s every word through her earpiece. It didn’t take long for one of Frank’s bimbos to tell Stella, “Frankie can help you out.” Stella was directed to the drop-off point, in the ladies’ powder room. Lucy soon heard a woman say to Stella, “Fifty bucks and you can get your party started.”
“Here we go,” Mario said, hearing the transaction from his car. “Tell her you’re having a party and need more. You have to get Frank to pull more from his car trunk.”
“Copy,” came back over his earpiece.
When Stella returned, Lucy was hugging Frank in the booth. She and Stella expertly played the part of party girls, and Frank the creep had a smile from ear to ear. They sold it like rock stars.
From the parking lot, Mario listened the best he could, their voices fading in and out with the music. Startled by a knock on the window, Mario put the window down.
“Detective DeLuca? What the hell are you doing here?” a man asked.
Mario reached for his gun as the man flipped over his badge.
“I’m Nolan LeBlanc, FBI Narcotics Division,” he said.
Mario relaxed his hand and slipped it away from the gun. “Sorry, man. You’re out of your element. Didn’t recognize you.” Mario quickly explained he had two undercover people about to take down Frank Pearson.
Then Nolan hit him with some facts. “Frank Pearson was arrested a week ago
