“Can you promise me you’ll keep your head straight?”
“I can promise you I won’t fuck this up. But I can also promise you Emi’s ass is going to be red before the night’s over.”
A slow smile spreads across his lips as he nods. “Captain Corny warned me you were a hothead, but even more, he told me to watch out when it came to her. He said, at some point, fireworks were going to explode.”
“Jesus Christ, that man’s a gossip.” I take off, not caring what else he has to say.
I get to the hallway, slink back in a corner, and take out my phone. I think back to the video Kelly showed me a few weeks ago of the coverage of the bar. I wasn’t crazy; that was her.
What the hell is she up to?
I Google the names Carrie + Miranda and hundreds of results for Sex and the City pop up. I may not have watched the show, but my mom loved it.
“What’s happening in there?” I ask the employee manning the door.
“It’s an exhibition.”
I nod, pushing off the wall and going into the room. The entire viewing area is darkened, but I spot Emi and Maren in the middle row easily.
The bland room from earlier has come alive as two sets of men and women are into the act. One woman is naked and cuffed to a wall, her whole body spread out, while a man clamps a chain to each of her nipples until she whimpers. Slowly, he runs a crop along her body, teasing her until she begs, then spanks her on one nipple until she whines. He then positions the crop between her legs and starts to twist it. Each time she moans in ecstasy, he yanks on the chain until she yelps.
Emi’s hand crosses her chest as she grimaces then adjusts the glasses.
The other man in the exhibition talks lowly into his woman’s ear and slides her dress off, leaving her naked except for her heels. She willingly bends across the bed with her ass in the air. He runs his hands along her back, across her shoulders, and down her arms, then locks her wrists in the restraints on the bed posts. He then trails his hands back over her body until he reaches her ass, caressing each cheek. There’s an object on the bedside table, which he takes and slides slowly along her crack and into her ass. She whimpers, bucking into his hand as he then slips his fingers inside, playing with her.
I watch as one man uses light pain and the other uses gentleness to bring each woman to climax.
No words are spoken as the men switch places, grabbing more items out of the chest in the corner.
At the sight of the two men changing partners, Emi and Maren both readjust their glasses, drawing my attention to the frames.
Then I see it. Standard issued camera glasses. It all starts to click into place: the disguises, the anonymous references, the look on Emi’s face this morning.
Fuck me, she and Maren are the anonymous source.
I let the show in front of us go on for a few more minutes, knowing I’m skating a line with Kelly, then exit quietly. When I pass the bar, I jot down a note, hand it to Sam, and head back upstairs.
Kelly is in the same position I left him and gives me a shit eating grin. “You handle it?”
I replace my ear piece, knowing the others can hear us, so I give a curt nod and respond vaguely. “Not yet, but I will.”
“Don’t know what you two are referring to, but we’ve got activity. It’s them. They just started talking about transport. Looks like the car theft ring is dead. I’ve got recognition on four of the men so far,” Oliver tells us.
“Ross got make, models, and plates on the vehicles they arrived in,” Collins adds.
“We’ve got everything we came to get.
“Oh, shit,” Oliver yells. “We’ve lost sound. Can one of you get a look and see where the waitress went?”
Kelly turns and casually leans his back to the railing, sipping his drink. “Waitress is there. But she’s wiping at her dress, looks like there was a spill.”
“Without sound, we don’t have much.”
“We have a hell of a lot more than we started with. Scott and I will take a few more pictures then we’re out of here,” Kelly decides, eyeing me for approval.
I nod and go back to our table, ordering another drink from a very sullen waitress. Looks like Kelly turned her down, too. No doubt, she’s disappointed in her VIP guests tonight.
I do what I need to do, sending shot after shot to Oliver until the party of five starts to break up. The bar below is still packed, but I catch Sam looking at me. He gives a short head jerk in confirmation.