Chapter 11
"Hey, Baby, blow me for luck," the heavyset man in an expensive, but tacky suit held out his hand palm up.
Frankie smiled seductively and leaned forward to cup his hand with hers and blow softly on the red dice. As she leaned over, he reached behind her with his other hand and stroked her ass. Instead of swatting his hand away and slugging him, which she desperately wanted to do, she stood up slowly and gave him another smile and a look from beneath her eyelashes.
"Easy, there, you need to save some of that for later," she purred.
He licked his thick lips and patted her ass one last time before turning his attention back to the table, "later, Baby. Oh, yeah, we'll continue this later."
Frankie stifled a shudder and swayed her way to the next table to deliver more cocktails to the men gathered around it.
They had certainly picked something right up her alley for this assignment, she thought as she smiled and flirted with the patrons of this private, and quite illegal, gambling den. At least she had clothes on, she thought with a smirk. Although some might not consider her attire 'clothed'. The black G-string with its fluffy bunny tail, skimpy bikini top, five-inch heels, fishnet stockings with garters, and a headband with the cliché pair of bunny ears wasn't the most revealing outfit she had ever worn, but being a stripper, that bar was set pretty low already.
Her target was the fat man with the wandering hands. Ricardo DeHerrera, the manager of a security firm contracted by NASA and the US government for the new Space Force Command located in Colorado Springs, had a proclivity for high stakes gambling. She and Dean had flown into Denver three days ago, surveilled the location, and hired three of would-be models for a side job waitressing for the night.
Dean, dressed in an immaculate black suit, stood near the door overseeing all the activity. His job was security, along with two other men he had hired. He got to keep all his clothes on, she thought resentfully. She made eye contact with him and nodded faintly. He didn't acknowledge her except for a brief flicker of his eyes to his left to the door leading to the private rooms.
The men at the second table were not as free with their hands as her target. They were intent on their cards, only making conversation between hands. The dealer was shuffling the deck as she handed out drinks and collected her tips.
"Too bad about Dan," one of the men commented as he handed her a five.
"Yeah, but if you have to go out, Cancun would be the place to do it," another put in.
"Whatever convinced him to go hiking by himself, though? I hear his body was pretty messed up by animals by the time he was found."
The other three men at the table grimaced.
"I hear it left you guys in quite a lurch, setting you back several months," the first man said to the second.
He nodded, "yeah, apparently, he kept most of his 'notes' up here." He tapped the side of his head.
Cursing erupted from the other table. While Ricardo was busy groping her, she switched the dice, giving him a loaded pair. Shit, she expected it to take longer before he got frustrated. Something about the conversation at this table was tickling something at the back of her mind.
"And finding a replacement for him is going to take a while. We are at a standstill right now and it sucks. We were just starting to make real progress," he shook his head then smiled. "At least something good came out of it. My daughter has been bugging me for a pet, so we took in his cat. My daughter loves the damn thing. Plays dress up with it all the time. She even likes the stupid name Dan gave it: Mister Grumpy."
Holy shit! Frankie thought, shaken. They're talking about her so-called practice target, Daniel Glover. What the fuck?
Another curse and a thud drew her attention back to her current assignment. Swallowing, she forced a smile and sauntered to the bar to pick up her next round of drinks to deliver.
By the time she arrived back at the table, the pile of chips in front of him was just a fraction of what it had been, and his face was flushed an angry red.
"Your drink," she rubbed against him as she leaned over to pass him his drink. He looked up at her, then back at his pile.
"You know," he said as he spun his chair and trapped her between his knees. "I think I'm ready for that 'later' now," he growled as he ran his sweaty hands up and down her sides, grazing the sides of her breasts.
"Well, cash out and follow me," she grabbed one of his hands before he could actually grope her breast and brought it to her lips. "I'll make you forget all about all this."
"Now that is something I can really get into," he didn't bother to look up from her breasts on prominent display in front of him.
Cashing out only took him a few minutes, then Frankie was leading him through the door to the back rooms.
"This way Mr. DeHerrera. I'm going to take good care of you."
"Call me Ricky, Sweetheart."
"Ricky it is," she purred looking over her shoulder at him.
The room she chose was the tackiest one in the building, but after taking in his suit, she decided he would approve of it. Red shag carpet covered the floor, matching pretty much everything else in the room, it looked like someone took every porn movie ever made and compiled them to create this room.
As expected, Ricky nodded appreciatively at the décor, before removing his jacket.
"Let me make you a drink while you get comfortable," Frankie went to the bar and started plunking ice cubes into a glass.
"Yes," he slurred slightly, "another drink. Not too much, you hear. I don't want to have it impact my performance, if you know what I mean."
"A big man like you shouldn't have a problem with a little drink," she told him as she brought the drink over to him. She had slipped a mild sedative into his last drink and this one was spiked with a larger dose.
"Here, let me," she said as he took a long drink from the glass. Dropping to the floor to kneel at his feet, a position she knew would appeal to him.
"Oh, yeah," he slurred a bit more and even swayed as she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. He reached a meaty hand out and grabbed the back of her head in a tight grip, pulling her hair painfully. "We are going to have a lot of fun, Baby."
Oh great, one of those assholes. She had dealt with them a lot when she was on the streets. They got off on hurting women. She hid her smile. Well, he was in for one helluva surprise if he thought he was going to use this woman as a chew toy.
The empty glass thudded to the floor beside her and he swayed alarmingly, almost falling over on top of her.
"Why don't we take this to the bed, so you can relax?"
"Yeah, good idea. I drank that one a bit fast."
"Let me up, please," she looked up at him with her most submissive expression.
His grip on her hair tightened briefly before he released her, and she stood up. She took his hand and led him to the oversized, round bed. He flopped down on his back, his pants and underwear around his knees, his shirt, shoes, and socks still on.
"Come here," he slurred, lifting a floppy hand to beckon her.
Frankie dropped to her hands and knees and climbed onto the bed, crawling seductively up his body. Damn, she hoped the sedative did its job before she was forced to do something she vowed she would never do again.
By the time she straddled his hips, she could hear a slight snore. Sitting up, she saw that his eyes were closed and his mouth open with a bit of drool starting to dribble out of the corner.
"Sweetie?" Frankie had to make sure he was truly out.
Nothing.
"Sweetie?" She tried again, wiggling her hips, shaking his body and the whole bed in the process.
Still nothing.
"Hey!" she leaned forward and slapped his cheek.
His snores didn't falter. He was out cold.
Frankie scrambled off him and searched his pockets quickly. Pulling out his wallet, she shuffled through it. No key card. Fuck! This was going to suck if he didn't have it on him.
She tucked the wallet back into his trousers and climbed off the bed. She walked over to his jacket that he had dropped on the floor by the door. As she bent over to pick it up, there was a light tap on the door.
"It's me," Dean said quietly from the other side.
She let him in.
"Did you find it?"
She was going through the jacket and didn't look up at her partner. "No, he didn't have it in his wallet. I hope he didn't…," she trailed off as she felt a card in a concealed pocket. Fishing it out, she held it up triumphantly, "got it."
She handed it over to Dean, who pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket.
"Must be nice to have pockets," her voice dripped with sarcasm.
He looked up briefly and giving her the once over, "I don't think there's enough material on that for a pocket."
Frankie crossed her arms over her exposed chest, "don't you have something for me, Asshole?"
Dean grinned and pulled a small case out of another pocket. Inside was a vacuum sealed dress for Frankie. It was skimpy by necessity but compared to what she had on at the moment, at least it covered all the important parts. As she tore open the package, he turned his attention back to his task. Inserting the keycard in the box, a yellow LED lit up and started blinking, indicating the data on the card was being copied.
"How long is that going to take?"
"Less time than for you to get dressed," he told her dryly. "Don't forget the tail and ears."
"How could I?" she said as she snatched the offending items from her body.
As she slipped the dress over her head, she heard him say, "done."
Smoothing the dress down with one hand, she held out the other for the card so she could tuck it back into his jacket. Going back to the bar, she poured a bit of scotch into one of the glasses and tossed it back, then went over to the passed out Ricky and touched the glass to his lips, making sure to catch some of the spittle running down his face on it. She picked up the dropped glass and handed it to Dean.
"Can't leave this here to be tested." She dropped the new glass on the floor to replace it.
"Anything else?" Dean asked.
Frankie surveyed the room quickly, "I don't think so. You're an old hand at this, what do you think?"
"You need to make it look like your boy had a really good time."
She looked at the man on the bed and took a deep breath, "I was afraid you would say that. Okay, go back out front and I will take care of it."
He nodded, "see you out back in about an hour."
After Dean left the room, Frankie walked over to the bed, "okay, Ricky, let's make sure this was a night you wish you could remember."
