Chapter 7

"Hoo-yah," John Damery muttered to his co-worker, Gordon Hancock. The man looked up from writing in the log book to see what his co-worker was drooling over.

A leggy red head had just entered the store, on the arm of a muscular bald black man, whose suit and watch screamed money. The woman was carrying a cute-looking terrier dog, who was sporting a possible diamond collar. Walking in front of them was a guy with a crew cut, shades, and a barely-concealed gun under his suit jacket. Bodyguard. And that meant money, big money.

"You the owner?" the black man demanded to them.

"He's not here at the moment," said Gordon. "But I'm his son, Gordon Hancock, and this is my co-worker, John Damery. Welcome to Tall-Tree Custom Furniture. What can we do for you today?"

"I've been told you guys are some of the best in the custom furniture business," said the man. "I'm looking for something special for my girl." He beamed at the woman, and she giggled at the attention. The bodyguard just stood there, looking around.

Gordon came around the counter and led the way to their selection of custom furniture, talking as he did.

"Well, you've come to the right place. Everything we make is made by hand and we use only the best wood around. We are very demanding when it comes to the quality of our work."

"Quality is one thing, but it ain't worth green if it ain't gone green, if you get my meaning," said the man.

"I do, which is why we refuse to import wood from non-sustainable forests," said Gordon smoothly. "Also, all of our stains, lacquers, and varnishes are environmentally friendly and meet California's strict environmental laws."

"Are you guys involved in any of those forest conservation programs, like umm, American Lands or the Cascadia Forest Alliance?" the woman piped up.

"We work with several organizations," said Gordon, not recognizing either organization, and not really caring. He could talk the talk with the best of them, as long as they spent the money.

"What kind of wood are you looking for, darling?" the man asked his woman.

She put a finger to her red lips and appeared to think. "I hear British elm is quite the thing right now. Teak is nice but it's so common. I mean, everyone has some."

"British elm? That's a good choice. It's strong but durable," said Gordon.

"Good, because I just love hand-carved stuff," said the woman brightly.

"And I know someone who would just love to get into your panties," thought Gordon, watching the way John was watching the woman.

The woman noticed John watching her, and when he smiled at her in what he thought was a sexy manner, she gave him a look that could have curdled milk. No, this darling was not a player.

As he talked his spiel and the man made all the right noises, the bodyguard never went far from them. Then the woman handed the dog to the man and said, "I have a small personal problem. Could I avail you of your facilities?" She pouted prettily at him and he nodded.

"John? Show the lady our washroom please."

"Sure thing. This way, ma'am," said John, gesturing towards the back of the store.

"Back in a minute, darling," said the woman, planting a smacking kiss on the man's cheek.

As she sauntered off behind John, Gordon turned to the man and his bodyguard.

"So is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

The man folded his arms across his chest and rubbed his chin, flashing a gold watch that screamed big money, and said, "I'm not really sure. I'll know it when I see it."

Gordon groaned mentally but pasted a pleasant smile on his face.

In the back, Dabi scowled at the condition of the tiny bathroom. She took out her encrypted cell phone and quickly sent Nell a message.

"Bathroom stinks. Who are they kidding?"

"Can you get a view of the back area?"

"I'll try but I may have to do a little ball busting; John appears to be very interested in me."

"Play it up but don't let him get too close. If there's a problem, scream."

"Understood."

Dabi put her cell away and straightened her dress before taking a deep breath, flushing the toilet and running the tap briefly.

The mission was simple; check out the work area of Tall-Tree and see if there were any hints of weapons or something not quite right. All she had to do was let her necklace, a flashy gold necklace that was actually a live-feed video camera, see everything.

Outside, leaning against the wall, was John. He made her skin crawl and she barely refrained from her lip curling in disgust.

Instead, she looked at him and smiled. "Is there a chance I could see your work shop?" she chirped. "It would really, really help me decide what kind of furniture and wood to get, if I knew how you handled it."

A gleam entered John's eyes.

"Normally we don't allow clients back here, for safety reasons, I'm sure you understand, but if we're careful, I can make an exception for a pretty lady like you."

Dabi gave him her brightest smile and followed him through the building.

The work area, where everything was made, was huge. There were work benches, where two guys were working on what looked like a bed frame, wood of varying types neatly piled against one wall, all the way to the ceiling, and an area that looked like it was for varnishing and staining.

She took her time, oohing and cooing over whatever John was showing her.

Then, on the way back, he made a mistake, one Dabi had been hoping he'd make. John was a good-looking man, but Dabi was spoken for, and the idea of an older man lusting after her made her insides twist sickly.

"So you like dark meat, huh? That must be fun," said John, as they headed back to the show room.

Dabi stopped in her tracks and said softly, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

If he hadn't been lusting after her, he might have heard the dangerous tone in her voice. But he wasn't listening with his ears, as evident a few seconds later.

"You and your man; I'm guessing it's either the money or what's in his pants." He came closer, backing her up against the wall, and put one hand beside her head, his other hand fingering a lock of her hair.

"He may be big and dark, but I'm wondering if he knows how to use it, like I do," he said softly.

Dabi held up a finger, which had a perfectly applied, so-called French tip manicured nail on the tip, and tapped his nose. "I'm sure you do, Sir Don Juan, but I don't play around on my darling."

"What's he got that I don't?" he asked, just before nuzzling her neck. She had to fight the urge not to shudder. She waited until he was looking at her again before smiling.

Then she attacked. By the time she was finished, he was on the floor and in pain.

"He has class, which you very definitely don't!" she spat out, glaring at him. She stormed out of the back room, in time to see Sam and Callen looking at her with concern. "We are leaving, darling, NOW! I refuse to do business with such filthy pigs!"

Grabbing Gibor from Sam, who yelped in protest, she stormed out of the store, head high. Before she exited completely, she fired off a parting shot to Gordon.

"You either get rid of that disgusting, low-life prick you call John, or I swear I will sue your business so far into the ground your grandchildren will still be paying the damned cost!"

And with that, she headed for the car, Callen and Sam right behind her.

As Callen peeled out of the parking lot, Dabi checked her cell.

"Nicely done," was the message from Nell. "You want another shower?"

"YES!"