Blindsided

"What do you do?"

"Mostly work in the field. I work for Vice. Since I grew up near the West End and I was a patrol cop for five years there, most of my work for Vice is there as well."

"The West End? Where is it? I'm sorry, we're new here and we're not that familiar with Cincinnati," Helen asked.

"It's near downtown. I think you'll hear that it's a rough neighborhood."

"You mean drugs," said Lily.

"That's one of the issues."

"Such a shame," she said.

"Yes. But drugs are everywhere, not just in the poorer neighborhoods. Rich people just hide it better."

"Where are my manners. Would you like a drink?" Lily asked. She reached into a bag at the foot of her barstool and pulled out a new bottle of a distilled spirit. She poured me a shot in her glass and handed it to me. I had a bit of her lipstick on the rim. I drank from it. It was smooth as her silk dress with a fine glowing burn on the back end. It tasted of pears. It was as delicious as she was.

"Do you like it Max?" Lily asked me.

"I love it. It tastes like pears."

"You're right, she said. "It's distilled from pears. It's made by my family back in China. They triple distill it to reach the highest level of purity. Would you like another?"

"Maddy, can we get another glass?" Lily asked. Maddy reached under the counter and pulled out a clean glass. I motioned for Maddy to give the new glass to Lily.

"I'll keep this one," I told her. I held it out so she could fill it again. This time I made sure to drink in the same place as the lipstick. She noticed.

"So tell me Lily. What brings you and your sisters to Cincinnati?"

"We're here to take over the family business."

"And what's that?"

"We own a few grocery stores and restaurants. Actually Mona and Helen aren't involved in the family business. They help manage the household."

"And what do you do?"

"You know, a little of this, and little of that, whatever the business needs."

She seemed eager to change the subject. "Max, my job is boring. Tell me about yours. Tell me something exciting that happened."

I told her about DaVanna and Maureen. She said that she heard about the DaVanna debacle on the national news. She was amazed that I was the one who found what she had done. She asked me about Trong. I was truthful. I told her he was smart and a formidable opponent but he didn't have the political muscle to stop his arrest. I harkened back to The Godfather. Don Corleone had the local judges in his pocket "like so many nickels and dimes." That was the time honored way to be a respectable mob boss. Instead of being bored, she was fascinated by my insight.

It was coming on eleven, and in the back of my mind I thought something might come of this, but Lily squashed that thought by telling me she had an early morning meeting and had to get back to her rental house. We said a goodbye and I watched her hips move in that slinky red dress as she made her way to the exit.

* * *

Lieutenant Odette had assigned me to investigate a recent spate of drug deals gone bad. Homicide was involved in two of them, where safe houses were raided by a rival gang and the occupants executed gangland style, with the victims kneeling and being shot in the back of the head at close range. The most recent one, which occurred the day prior, involved a hit in the West End in an area supposedly controlled by Trong Lai's gang, though with Trong in jail on a murder rap on charges brought by DaVanna when she was an Assistant Prosecuting Attorney, the Vietnamese gang's hold on the West End was tenuous.

The word on the street was that Jumbo was trying to muscle in on Trong's turf and that the hit was conducted by Jumbo's henchmen, but of course there were no witnesses and no evidence left at the house. The latest crime scene was thoroughly gone over, but the killers were professionals, leaving no trace fibers and picking up their shell casings. They were probably wearing protective suits and gloves when they conducted the hit. The bodies were left in a bedroom and all the money and drugs were gone.

I took Lesley with me to see if we could find the Vietnamese gang's new digs, as their former one, the Little Saigon Restaurant, exploded from a ruptured gas line during a SWAT team raid. I had heard on the street that they had moved down the street to an Asian grocery store, running their operation out of the basement. The basement had a separate entrance in the back alley, so there was a fair amount of privacy afforded the occupants.

I've always believed in taking things head on. It made me what I am, like it or not. In uniform, with Lesley behind me, we walked down a narrow alley infested with weeds and garbage. There were the service entrances to the stores on one side the alley and the brick back wall of office buildings on the other. All of the small windows had bars over them. This was probably not a good idea, but I was never accused of overthinking anything. Lesley tapped me on the shoulder and pointed ahead. There were two men standing in front of the basement entrance to the grocery store and each of them was carrying a sawed off shotgun. They lowered them at us as we approached.

I held up my hands. "We're here to talk, not to shoot."

The man with a menacing dragon tattoo circling his forearm lowered his gun and smiled.

"My old friend Max Pemberton."

He was one of Trong Lai's bodyguards. The first time I saw him I kneed him in the groin. He thought it was a dirty move but you have to be ready for anything and he wasn't. He extracted his revenge later, catching me going up the stairway to my second floor room at the Royal Palms. I wasn't paying attention and his buddy was able to get me in an armlock. Mr. Tattoo punched and kicked me, presumably on behalf of DaVanna, as DaVanna and Trong were thick as thieves until DaVanna betrayed him. I got back at Mr. Tattoo the next time we met at my motel when he tried to kill me with a pipe. Well really Lesley got him. She got him from behind as he was about to club me. Lesley was watching me safely to my room, even thought I didn't know it. She saved my life.

I guess me and Mr. Tattoo were even. Apparently being in uniform, with my partner, was something he didn't want to deal with. No one would blame him for avoiding a shootout with the police. That was very bad for business.

He rapped on the door with the butt end of his gun. Moments later the door opened. "Police . . . to see the boss," he told the man behind it.

He opened the door for me and Lesley before closing it behind us. I could hear the heavy lock re-engage as we walked through the storeroom for the grocery store. There was produce in crates and boxes of groceries, mostly canned goods. It was dark and smelled faintly of an Asian spice I couldn't name. We came to another door, this one windowless and clearly reinforced to withstand an assault. The man got in front of us and knocked on the door. It opened.

There was an Asian man, on the tall side, shiny black hair, thirty-ish and handsome, working behind an impressive cherry wood desk. Sitting across from him in a guest chair was . . . Lily.

I looked at her, startled.

"Li . . . " I tried to say before I was cut off by her.

"You must be Officer Pemberton." She was playing it as if we had never met.

"My name is Liling, but everybody calls me Lily," she said. There was nary a waver her voice.

"Allow me to introduce you to my business partner, Simon Chao." She waved her hand toward the man behind the desk. "Simon's also my husband."

Husband. Shit.

She was cool as a cucumber when she said it. Simon had no idea she was cruising a gay bar with her "sisters." I think I had as much of a chance as they did of being her sister. I had no doubt Lily had sex with both of them after they left the bar together. Maybe it was a marriage of convenience. Or maybe she was a lying whore.

I had obviously met a venomous snake by chance at Bailey's, or was it by chance? Did she know I would be put on her case and "accidentally" bumped into me at the bar? The timing seemed too close for it to be a coincidence.

Then Lily revealed her true role in the company.

"Simon's the company's accountant. I'm the CEO. I think it might be better if you and I, Officer Pemberton, go into my office and have a little chat?" She posed it as a question but we both knew it wasn't. I followed her out of the office.

Lesley looked at me for direction. Simon had already turned his chair around to look at his computer screen.

"Sit tight," I told her. "I'll only be a couple minutes."

Lesley knew me well enough not to believe me. In matters involving time, I was a poor estimator.

I left Lesley with Simon, following this alluring Medusa into her lair.

* * *

Simon's office was nice, but Lily's was opulent. Inside it, you wouldn't know you were in the back of an Asian vegetable market. An assistant sat at a desk outside it, and was asked to bring in hot tea and a few snacks.

I admired the fine cloth of the chair I was sitting in. Lily chose not to sit behind her desk, but instead, across from me with a glass coffee table between us. I could see her bare legs revealed by the high slit in her tight dress.

"You're thinking about the deception last night," she began. "Simon knows. He's always known. He gets a handsome allowance and chases all the pussy he wants. You know where I play. So we're clear on that?"

I nodded. She was already one step ahead of me. I wondered where she was going to lead me. I hoped one of those scenarios didn't involve me falling in love with her.

"Last night wasn't an act. I like you Max. I didn't want to, but I do. And I can't say I'm not attracted to you. But you're here on business. I may have understated my role in this business and what we do. I've taken over Trong's operation. Jumbo Williams is trying to muscle his way in."

Her assistant came in with a tea service plus some pieces of dim sum in covered bamboo steamers. She was a stunningly beautiful young woman, Asian, petite, in a short black dress, fishnet stockings and heels. Around her neck was a gorgeous diamond choker. She put down the tray between us.

"Thank you Jasmine," Lily said. Jasmine didn't leave, but instead stood next to Lily, waiting further instructions.

"Why don't you kneel?" Lily said to her.

Much to my surprise, the young woman knelt next to Lily, her face passive. Lily touched the diamond choker.

"I gave this to Jasmine so she could tell the world that she belongs to me. Isn't that right little one?"

"Yes Mistress," she replied, looking ahead instead of at Lily.

Mind blowingly kinky. I took a deep breath.

"I just wanted to show you Max that my . . . umm . . . sexual tastes, are, shall we say, unusual."

"I can see that," I said, looking at Jasmine and wondering what was going on in her mind at that moment.

"I have all the money in the world and all the material possessions I'd ever want. But I also have desires. And I enjoy dangerous things. You're dangerous, aren't you Max? You're with the police. It's your job to put me in jail, isn't it?"

"If I catch you doing something wrong."

"And it's my job not to get caught."

"That's the way the game's played," I said.

Lily waved her hand to dismiss Jasmine. Her assistant, or sex toy, or whatever the fuck she was, left the room without a word. My head was spinning.

"Enough about me," Lily said, as if she'd just painted a vanilla picture of herself instead of as a kinked out Mistress. "This meeting is about business Max. I'll treat you like any member of the police. I can't let my feelings color my decision making. I'll have to make difficult decisions."

No shit. Decisions like killing people.

"I won't deny that I have a mole in the police department. Anyone worth their salt in this business has one. You won't find mine and you'll be surprised if you ever did find out. I knew you were going to be assigned to my case."

"So you went to the bar, intending to find me."

"I did."

"And you milked me for information."

"Max, you were begging to be milked. Who am I to deny you this pleasure?"

I felt like a sucker. She knew the whole time I'd be seeing her the next day and set me up.

"I didn't tell you anything you didn't know," I protested. Saying it made me feel like I hadn't been gamed.

"Oh Max, but you did. You told me how and what you think, and that was worth the effort. If I'm to play chess with an opponent, isn't it best to know how she thinks?"

I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was right and didn't answer her question. She smiled. My silence confirmed she was.

"So let's be clear," she said. "We're on the same side of this because I want you to catch Mr. Williams as much as you do."

"I can see that," I confirmed to her.

Then she abruptly changed the subject. "So let me tell you a bit about the kitchen we keep in the back. I've flown in a chef from Hong Kong and he prepares our lunches and dinners for us while we're here working. He specializes in dim sum."

She lifted the lid of the pie plate sized bamboo steamer.

It looked like an assortment of dumplings. She reached over to retrieve a bowl and put three dumplings in it.

"The one that's translucent is made with rice flour and is filled with chopped scallops. The one with the open top is an egg washed wheat flour skin filled with ground pork and black mushrooms. The third one that looks like a pierogi has a pork and cabbage meatball inside. Enjoy."

She handed me the bowl and a pair of chopsticks. She poured me some tea while I tried them. The taste of each of them was delicate and exquisite. The fragrant tea was a perfect pairing.

She watched me eat while she sipped her tea. She didn't take any of the food.

"So how was it Max?"

"Absolutely delicious."

"I'm glad you liked it. Perhaps someday soon we'll become better acquainted."

I left her office wondering what she meant. Everything she said and did was with purpose. She was the most interesting, dangerous, and mysteriously beautiful person I'd ever met.

* * *

Lesley had waited patiently for me, far more than the five minutes I'd promised. We stayed silent until we reached our car, but the tension was palpable as I knew my partner was dying to know the details of my private meeting with Lily.

I couldn't decide what to tell Lesley. Should I tell her that I spilled my guts to Lily at Bailey's before I knew who she was? Or should I make up some bullshit story to avoid the revelation of my faux pas? I decided I need to tell her, damn the embarrassment.

"I fucked up big time," I told her.

"How so?" she asked, eager for details.

"Start driving. I'll tell you."

She started driving back to the station. I told her everything. Meeting Lily at the bar "by chance." Drinking with her and her "sisters." Answering her seemingly innocent questions. Telling her how she tracked me down and trapped me. How there was a mole at our station. That she was a formidable opponent. Her confession to me that her marriage to Simon was a sham, and that she was a lesbian. I didn't tell her I was attracted to her.

We were almost to the station when the radio squawked and the dispatcher sent us to an address in the West End. Vice was conducting an operation there and something had gone bad. All available hands were dispatched there. That meant us.

"I know where it is," said Lesley. She pulled an expert U-turn and had us headed to the crime scene. At least one suspect was dead and one police officer was wounded during a raid on a drug safe house. It looked like the gunfight was over but there was bedlam at the crime scene. When we arrived several back-up units had already arrived. The K-9 unit controlled barking German Shepherds. There was an ambulance already loading up one of the victims.

"They don't need us," I told Lesley.

She wasn't looking at me. She was looking out the driver's side window at a crowd on the lawn next door to the crime scene. There was a woman screaming and running towards us waving her arms.

"I can't help Sheila!" she said over and over, pointing back to the house next door. Lesley went to calm the woman down while I ran through the open front door and into the living room of the modest brick ranch house. There was a woman face down on the carpet. She looked like she was dead. I turned her over. There was a needle hanging from her arm, scarred by many injections. We kept an overdose kit in the cruiser. I ran to get it.

I was trained in using Narcan. I administered it to her and it was like a miracle. Almost instantly, she came back to life, gasping for breath. She was blinking her eyes, probably wondering why she wasn't dead. She looked at me with a face vacant of expression.

"Where am I?" she asked me.

"You're safe," I told her, propping her into a sitting position.

"I am?" she asked innocently.

"You are now."

It was one of my virtues. Max. Savior of women.

I noticed the living room was cluttered with toys. A heavily used crack pipe and a couple vials of prescription drugs were on the coffee table. I finally noticed there was a baby bawling in the next room.

"My baby . . ." she said, suddenly recognizing who and where she was.

She tried to get up but fell over, still not stable enough to stand up. She started crying.

Lesley was still on the front lawn comforting the screaming woman.

"Lesley, get in here," I called out to her.

She said a few more words, patted the woman on the shoulder and hustled toward me, her nightstick swinging on her hip.

"What's up Max?"

"What do you know about babies?" I asked her.

"You're asking me that now?"

"Not that. I mean taking care of babies."

"Oh. I had a few babysitting jobs, and then there was my sister-in-law's baby . . ."

"OK, I've heard enough. There's a crying baby in the next room. See if you can help it."

Lesley made her way towards the crying. "What's the address here ma'am?" I asked the half dazed woman.

It took her a moment to get her bearings. She told me. I hit the speed dial on my phone for Protective Services. I requested help at her address.

"No, please," the woman begged me. She knew that Protective Services would put the baby in foster care.

"Are there any other children present?" I asked her.

"No . . . just my baby." Then she got up and tried to beat on my chest with her fists. "They're not taking away my baby!" she screamed.

As much as I wanted to protect her, she wasn't fit to have the baby, at least then. If we hadn't gotten there in time she would have been dead. Then what would have happened to her baby?

"I'm sorry. We're following procedure," I told her as if that would calm her. It was like using a Kleenex to stop a tornado.

"Fuck procedure," she said, her eyes burning with fire.

Before I could say a word, a steady stream of expletives came out of her mouth and then she tried to spit on me.

Lesley came back into the living room holding the baby.

"I had to change the poor baby's diaper. It looked like it hadn't been changed in quite a while. I think she needs food." She left the room and went towards the kitchen.

"I'm sorry ma'am. We'll wait with you until Protective Services arrives. They'll interview you and assess the situation."

We waited for an hour. Not a word was spoken. Lesley had found jars of baby food in the kitchen and was feeding the baby when she returned. The woman had gained sufficient strength to hold and feed the baby, ignoring us and cooing to her daughter.

Lesley and I went into the kitchen to talk. There must have been at least a week's worth of dishes piled up in the sink and overflowing to the adjacent counters. The counters were cluttered with open baby food jars and Chinese food cartons. I opened the refrigerator. There was outdated milk and a half dozen eggs in it. I felt bad for both of them.