Chapter 12

Buck went up the stairs to his room, intending to check to see if Morgan had come home at some point during the night. He didn't expect to find her there, he hadn't for the past three mornings that he had checked. But he went anyway.

He opened the door and nearly fell backwards when he saw Morgan, sound asleep in the queen sized bed.

Closing his eyes in relief that she was back, in one piece, and apparently without a string of police cars chasing her down, he quietly closed the door.

He went downstairs again. He'd make breakfast for her. Try to ease into asking where she had been.

His phone rang before he could get the eggs out of the fridge. He answered, tucking it against one shoulder while he added cheese, milk, and some sorry looking peppers that had been forgotten in the fridge to the stack in his arms.

"Yeah Chris," he answered. "She's home."

He heard Chris' sigh of relief that echoed the one Buck had let out earlier. "She's in one piece?"

"She's upstairs sleeping," Buck said. "I'm gonna fix her breakfast. Try to talk."

There was a pause, the line silent.

"Chris?"

"It'll have to wait," Chris said. "We got a lead on the Lowell case. Get JD and get to the office."

Buck looked at the ingredients for his world famous omelets on the counter.

"Your omelets will have to wait till tomorrow," Chris said.

"I never said I was making omelets," Buck said.

"Buck, you know how to make one thing. Morgan was going to get omelets."

"You don't know that," Buck said, opening the fridge to put the food back.

"Get JD and get to the office," Chris said before hanging up.

Buck tucked his phone back into his pocket. He went back up the stairs and gave a rap on JD's door. "Get movin', kid. Duty calls," he called through the door.

He went back to his own door, then opened it slowly. Morgan was sitting up in bed, brushing her long hair back from her face. She squinted at him through bleary eyes.

"Welcome back," Buck said, not able to hold back the bit sarcasm that laced his words, fueled by the worry of the past days.

Morgan grunted in response.

"You got in late," Buck commented.

"I got in early," Morgan countered, her voice rough with sleep, or lack of it. "Four this morning."

Buck couldn't imagine what she had found to do between the time she was at Chris' and four this morning.

"Where were you?" Buck asked.

Morgan looked groggy. "With Ezra," she mumbled, closing her eyes like she was going back to sleep.

Buck stared at her. "What?"

Morgan blinked awake, clearly still not firing on all cylinders, but Buck could see the stubborn setting in.

"What were you and Ezra doin' out till four in the morning?" he asked.

Morgan looked slightly more alert. "We were at the ballet," she said an edge to her voice. "Taking in some fine culture and all that."

Buck grit his teeth.

"Hey Buck, you ready?" JD called, coming to the door. He looked past Buck, at Morgan in the rumpled bed, one strap of her tank top falling off her shoulder. He turned bright red.

Morgan smiled. "Morning, JD." She lifted an eyebrow and nodded toward the space in the bed. "Plenty of room here if you need some more sleep."

JD quickly shuffled backwards. "I'll see you downstairs, Buck."

Buck gave Morgan his best ornery look. "Leave the boy alone, Mo." He started to go, then turned back, pointing a finger at Morgan. "You think you're gonna run around with one of my teammates? I got called into work, and I'm talking to Ezra about this."

Buck congratulated himself on not slamming the door behind him. He went downstairs to the den, where he had moved his safe and removed his service weapon, grabbed his holster and a lightweight jacket, and followed JD out the front door.

Ezra. Not that he would be thrilled with Morgan spending time with any of the men on the team. They were all too old for her. Except for JD. Buck slid a glance to his friend and housemate in the seat in the passenger seat. If the young man wasn't so taken with Casey, Buck would consider pushing him towards Morgan. Buck caught that thought before he finished it. Nope. Morgan would demolish the boy. Her personality—her pure unruliness—would be no match for JD. Probably Ezra would be one of the only ones who could stand up and hold his own against Morgan. Maybe Vin. Buck let out a snort of laughter at the thought of calm, cool, collected Vin Tanner with his wild child sister who was hell-bent for trouble. Vin had too much good sense for that.

JD looked at him.

"Sorry, just thinking," Buck said. The idea of Morgan, who teetered on going of the rails, with a man from Team 7—an elite team focused on duty and disciplined…He couldn't hold back one more chuckle at the sheer ridiculousness of his sister with any member of his team.

#

Morgan texted Ezra. Not so much an apology as a heads-up. If Buck hadn't caught her half asleep, she never would have even mentioned Ezra's name. Not after he had gone out with her last night, never pushing for answers. Never pushing for any information, really. She set her phone aside, pulling the pillow over her head and drifted back to sleep. When she looked at the time again, two hours had passed. And she had a text from Ezra.

The answer came back as a picture. Morgan couldn't hold back her smile at a photoshopped picture of a MMA fighter, missing teeth and bruised, in a ballet tutu. Clearly Buck had talked to Ezra.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Morgan froze, mid-stretch. For a brief second, she wished Buck hadn't gone to work, leaving her alone. Not after she had seen two of the men who worked for Chad's dad. She knew the senator had businesses he owned in Denver. He owned businesses from Denver down to Vegas and farther west. But she hadn't thought any of his men who wculd recognize her would be here.

Getting out of bed, Morgan reached for a sweatshirt and slipped it on over her tank, getting some warmth with that and her flannel pajama pants when she left the blankets behind. She went halfway down the stairs and paused, trying to see through the window alongside the door.

She caught a glimpse of a woman's long hair.

Blowing out a breath, Morgan continued down the stairs, pulling open the door.

Buck's friend from the restaurant was there. She smiled warmly at Morgan. "Buck called and asked if I could bring breakfast over for you."

"He did?" Morgan asked, thinking of the look on Buck's face when he had left. Then she caught herself and opened the door wider, motioning the woman in.

"He did. He was worried about you while you were gone. I think they all were." The woman's accent was light, and she seemed sincere.

"Oh," Morgan didn't know what to say to that. She motioned to the boxes of food the woman held. "Thanks for this…."

"Inez," the woman reminded her.

"Inez. Sorry. It was a little chaotic the night I met you." She grimaced, remembering the fight she had started in Inez' bar and grill.

Inez didn't look concerned. "I brought enough to eat with you. If that is alright?"

Morgan gestured toward the kitchen. She had no idea why the woman would want to stay for breakfast, but she was Buck's friend and it was Buck's house.

Inez didn't look completely lost in Buck's kitchen, seeming to know where plates and silverware was, something that was lost on Morgan.

Inez set the meal out on the table and Morgan joined her.

"So," Inez started, and Morgan braced herself for the inevitable lecture or questions. Things added up quickly, and she understood why Buck had sent Inez over with breakfast. "How terrible was Buck when you got home?"

Morgan paused and looked at the woman sitting across from her.

Inez raised her eyebrows and took a drink of orange juice she had found in the fridge. "He was insufferable while you were gone, I can imagine he was not pleasant to come home to."

Morgan felt her lips move in a small smile. "He wasn't as bad as I thought," she said honestly. "But he got called into work, so didn't have time to get worked up."

Inez nodded. "And he'll have all day to work himself up."

Morgan heaved a sigh. "Yep."

Inez hummed in sympathy. "If you come to The Saloon, I can make sure there is a seat for you at the bar and no space for Buck."

Morgan grinned. "Thanks. But I'll be at work tonight. Buck can head over to the Saloon and drown his sorrows about what a trial I am."

Inez' eyes lit up with interest. "Where are you working?"

Morgan's smile fell. The sharp comeback she would have for Buck didn't materialize. "Waitressing," she said. She took another bite of food.

Inez tilted her head. "I didn't know you needed work. If you want to waitress for me, there's a job available."

Morgan shook her head. She met Inez' eyes, she wasn't going to be ashamed of what she was doing. "This place pays more than most waitressing jobs."

When Inez' eyes softened in understanding, Morgan realized she hadn't been vague enough for the perceptive woman. She wrapped her fingers more tightly around her fork. "Don't say anything to Buck. Or Chris," Morgan said. "It's none of their business."

Inez calmly continued eating. "You're correct. It isn't."

Morgan reared back slightly, not expecting that answer.

"You are a grown woman." She looked like she wanted to say more and Morgan tensed, waiting for the lecture. "If you decide you do not like it at your new job, I will have a job available for you. Any time." And then Inez smiled, changing the subject to something less volatile. "Tell me about Buck as a kid. I want to know if he has always been so frustrating."

Morgan let out the breath that had built in her while Inez spoke. "Always," she said, thankful to be on safer ground. She hoped Inez would keep her unspoken promise to not tell Buck about Morgan's less than ideal new job.

#

Vin shoved the stack of papers in front of him to the side. He caught Josiah's sympathetic look. Vin really hated this part of the job.

At the head of the conference table, Chris outlined what they knew about the businesses the Senator owned. Senator Lowell owned several liquor stores, a race track, and a couple strip clubs in the Denver area. It was all owned through a shell company that they had only recently connected to the senator.

"Saturday night's a big night for business at the club," Chris said. "So we need to figure out how Ezra's going to establish contact with the senator's network and get an in to find out where the guns are being brought in and which businesses launder the money."

Vin shuffled through the papers until he found the floor plan of the strip clubs. He looked over the layout of the larger of the two, immediately recognizing the best vantage points if he was called on to keep an eye on Ezra.

"I'm going to go in as big spender," Ezra said without looking at the papers. Vin held back his smile. Ezra liked to put on a show of disinterest, but Vin had seen all the relevant paperwork for other cases at Ezra's condo, detailed notes and highlighted sections telling of how much effort Ezra put into his job.

"Of course you are," Chris said. He rubbed a hand across his forehead. "How much money are you plannin' on signing out of evidence for this cover of yours?"

"I'm sure we'll come to an agreeable amount," Ezra said confidently.

"Better get it in plenty of ones," Buck said, some tension under his words. Vin had heard just the tail end of his talk with Ezra earlier, Buck wanting to know what Ezra was doing with Morgan last night. "Those lap dances ain't cheap."

"You would know, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra said, before turning to Chris. "I'll present myself as someone who has come into a large inheritance and is looking for investment opportunities. Legality won't concern me as long as there's a large return on the investment." He pushed his chair back. "While you work out the details with the rest of the team, I'm going to caffeinate. It will be a lengthy night."

"So who goes in with Ezra?" Chris asked as Ezra went towards the break room.

Josiah was looking over the sheets of paper that had the key players of the senator's operation listed with pertinent details the profiler had put together. "I think he goes in alone."

Vin frowned. He saw Chris grimace. Chris was protective of the team. He didn't like any of them going in on their own.

"These guys are touchy, Chris," Josiah said. "And they're on the lookout for anything suspicious. But they won't do anything threatening right away. I think it's best if Ezra goes on his own, without a wire, and gets himself introduced to the higher ups."

"He could always go in as one of the dancers," Nathan grinned. "Stick a dress on him."

Buck snorted. "Ezra in drag. I'd pay good money to see that."

"I think Ezra has the right idea," Josiah said, smiling. "Throw some money around at the club so they notice him. Let them invite him."

Chris finally nodded. "JD, you got an identity trail built for him?"

JD looked up from his laptop screen and nodded. He hit a few keys. "Yeah. I'll talk to Ezra, figure out the details he needs."

There wouldn't be a need for a sniper tonight at least. Vin stood, seeing Ezra through the open doorway of the conference room, cup of coffee in hand, heading back to the bullpen. He stepped out of the conference room, across the hall to the bullpen.

Ezra was sending a text. He looked up when Vin entered.

"Do you have something to add to the scolding Buck had for me this morning?"

"He wasn't happy about you and Morgan bein' out together," Vin commented.

Ezra let out a small laugh. "He'd be much more upset if he knew where she wanted to go."

Vin lifted his brow, waiting for Ezra to offer more information.

"I won quite a bit at the fight thanks to her."

Vin could imagine what was going through Morgan's head if she opted to go to the fight club Ezra frequented instead of home last night, after all the hours on the road yesterday. "She ok?" he asked.

Ezra took a drink of his coffee. He met Vin's eyes, but didn't answer.

Vin nodded in understanding. "I'm glad she had you lookin' out for her last night."

Ezra frowned. "Yes, well, let's not mention it to anyone or they'll start thinking my moral compass points north."

Vin smiled. "And you can't have that, Ez. Don't want no one thinkin' you're a good guy." He headed back to the conference room. Maybe he'd stop by and see if Morgan wanted company later on.

Buck was watching Ezra with narrowed eyes while Chris and Josiah discussed Ezra's cover with JD.

Maybe he'd make sure Buck wasn't around when he saw Morgan, Vin decided.

#

Morgan felt a moment of uncertainty as she approached the plain brick square building that housed the strip club. But then she reminded herself that this was her best option for getting out of Buck's house. To rebuilding her life that had been ripped away from her in Las Vegas.

She loosened her grip on the handles of her bag and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. Showing she wasn't intimidated. Then pushed through the back door that was the employees' entrance.

A narrow hall led to a locker room and she stepped inside. Two young women looked up at her entry. One, in a fire engine red wig and skimpy dress, ignored her and focused on the platform heels she was putting on. The other, bleached blond and in slightly more clothing than the first woman, smiled at her.

"Are you Morgan?"

Morgan nodded.

"I'm Emme," she said with a smile. "I'm going to show you the ropes tonight." She motioned toward an empty locker. "Put your stuff in there and get changed."

Morgan went to the locker. The woman in the red wig eyed her as she went past and Morgan cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at her. The woman's mouth moved slightly in the hint of a smile.

Morgan changed out of her leggings and loose fitting shirt, kicking her sneakers into her new locker. She pulled on a short leather skirt, halter top that exposed plenty of skin front and back, and her own pair of heels.

Emme gave her an approving nod. Then she pulled out a spray bottle from her own locker and aimed it at Morgan.

Morgan tried to see the label as Emme sprayed her shoulders and collarbone.

"Glitter," Emme said. "It will look good under the lights."

"I'm not dancing," Morgan clarified. Waitressing was one thing. Dancing and removing clothing was another. And that was something Morgan wasn't doing.

"Not yet," Red Wig said under her breath. "I'll see you out there, Emme," she said in a normal voice. She flicked her eyes over Morgan. "Good luck."

Morgan waited for Emme to close her locker, then followed her out front.

"Bar, stage, tables," she said, gesturing around the dimly lit space. "You and me are going share this section." She grabbed a tray as they passed the bar and Morgan followed suit. "They're not supposed to touch anyone, waitresses or dancers," she said. "But the tips are way better if you let them."

Morgan set her jaw. She would let them. If that's what it took to get on her feet in Denver.

"Go to that table, they look like they'll give you some good tips. I'll take this one." With that, Emme veered over to the nearest table.

Morgan passed Emme's table and went to the one that held four college guys howling and shouting at the dancer on stage.

She could hear Emme giggling behind her as she took the drink order at her table. Smiling and flirting.

Morgan made as much of a smile as she could, knowing it wouldn't be bubbly like Emme's. But the way the guys looked her over made her aware that it still worked.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"I can think of a few things," the leader said, giving Morgan a wide grin.

Morgan tried not to think about how much they reminded her of Chad and his friends.

"And I can think of a few places you can shove it," she responded.

The table erupted in hoots. Morgan raised one eyebrow and waited for their order.

Heading to the bar, she gave gathered the drinks.

Emme worked alongside her. "That 'get lost' act is perfect," she said. "They're eating it up."

Morgan didn't tell her it wasn't an act. She brought the drinks to the table and moved on to the next one, falling into a routine, learning where the drinks were kept and where to stand so she was just out of reach as the drinks flowed and the patrons got less inhibited.

She was pouring shots to set on her tray when Emme sidled up to her. "Can you handle the entire section on your own?"

Morgan glanced at her and went back to pouring. "Sure. What's going on?"

Emme nodded toward a table back in the shadows on the opposite side. "Some high roller just came in. Blitz is pulling me to take care of him."

"Have fun," Morgan said. She watched Emme head over to the private table, unable to see the man sitting in the dark corner. She wondered how much Emme would make taking care of the one table.

A cat call from one of the tables drew her attention back to her own section and Morgan lifted the tray, getting back to work.

#

Ezra pretended to watch the show on the stage of the strip club. It only took a few oversized tips before he was moved to a table in the far corner, a private dancer and the manager coming over to greet him.

Ezra gave them a reserved introduction, pretending he had little interest in meeting them. He would make sure to drop comments about his business intentions to the dancer later. As if they would be the ones to introduce him to the possibilities of joining their business.

He gave another drink order to the dancer and she smiled at him, ran a hand over his shoulder as she walked past. When she was gone, he surreptitiously looked over the club.

A waitress with auburn hair caught his eye. He froze.

He watched Morgan narrow her eyes at someone who put a hand on her hip before saying something to him that had the rest of the men at the table burst out with laughter. And then she moved on, taking the cash they handed her and tucking it into a skirt that left little to the imagination.

He cursed silently. This was where Morgan was working.

His waitress was back, leaning over him to set his drink on the table. Ezra forced himself to look away from Morgan, back to the task he was there to complete. But he found himself keeping an eye on her throughout the night.

#