Hard Luck P.I.

He sat in the dust between the two back windows to think. Staying here all day wasn't really an option, but getting very far unseen probably wasn't either. Then an idea struck him. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket hoping that this plan worked because he was out of ideas. He took the folded paper from his other pocket and called Leaha.

"Hello?" after the third ring.

"Leaha, its Grant." He tried to sound conversational.

"Oh, hi. I wasn't expecting a call quite this soon." She sounded pleasantly surprised. Grant felt a little guilty, he did want to call her but not for this.

"Can I ask a big favor of you? Is there any way you could step out of the office right now?"

"Why?" she asked with a hint of the devil in her voice. "Actually I just got finished running some things to the downtown office. What's up?"

"I need a ride. If that's okay. I'm...kind of in a situation." He listened to the short pause and felt like an ass for even asking.

"Sure. Where are you at?" she finally asked, her voice not any less pleasant than usual. He gave her the address and then amended it with, "Go about half way down the alley and stop at the double doors. Thanks a bunch, I really appreciate this." Once they hung up, he put the cell phone away and took a breath. Now to just get there. He went back into the closet and carefully slid the wall to the side. The closet door was cracked open just enough to see that the piles on the desk finally succumbed to gravity. Papers littered the floor. His first thought was that there was no way he was going to clean that up. Reaching around he found a dusty jacket that probably hadn't seen the light of day since the mid-eighties. It was a size too big for him, a bright blue and smelled like the inside of a shoe. It would have to do. Hanging on nails along the left side were a few different baseball caps that Roland would wear on surveillance occasionally. The inside was grimy from old sweat, but he still reluctantly put it on.

He figured it was as good as he was going to get, it was time to leave. Carefully he opened the door into the hallway and peered down the hall. It seemed clear so he stepped out and closed the door behind him. He tipped the brim over his eyes and the collar of the jacket up. It wasn't much as far as disguises but it would have to do. All he needed was a couple of seconds, he hoped. Down the stairs and to the back door, everything seemed in the clear. He peered through the glass in the door and at first the alley seemed empty, but in the gray shadows near the fire escape he someone. He quickly backed away from the door before he was spotted and prayed Leaha was quick. He felt bad about getting her involved but with any luck they can get out with no one the wiser.

After an excruciatingly long couple of minutes, Leaha small car appeared. Making sure his face wasn't visible he was quickly through the doors and at the side of her car. She unlocked it and he slipped into the seat.

"Nice jacket." she said, her nose scrunched up from the smell.

"Thanks. Now can we...oh shit." The person from the shadows was walking towards the car. Grant faintly recognized him, he was police for sure. Leaha looked over at him a little worried, then back at the man who had reached her window.

"Good afternoon," he said in a pleasant voice. He looked in and scrutinized Leaha then tried to see Grant, who was doubled over the best he could. "I'm sorry to bother you," he flashed his badge, "but I'm looking for someone. They might have been in that building there. Sir," he directed to Grant, "did you just come out of that building?"

"This is my grandfather," Leaha suddenly piped in, "he hasn't been feeling well, so I'm taking him to the doctors."

"Is that so. Sir, could you look up for me? I'm sorry to bother you but it is necessary." It was clear he wasn't buying it. Grant started coughing what he thought was a realistic old man's cough. It helped that he was breathing in all the dust from the jacket he was wearing.

"Please," she pleaded with the detective. "I really need to get him in to the doctor. He doesn't sound well." He looked at them both again, then stood up and waved them on. With out hesitation she put it in drive and drove off. Grant didn't come up for air for another two blocks. When he did he quickly took off the coat and hat and shoved them to the floor.

"Thank you, so much. I'm sorry to get you involved." He told her.

"What is going on Grant? That's all I want to know?" She asked him a little irritably.

"Okay. I need to get some coffee or something. Can we stop and pick some up, then I'll tell you what I know, anyway." she nodded, then he added, "that was pretty quick thinking back there."

She grinned at him, "Yeah, it was. It was the first thing that came to mind. Nice follow up, had me going there for a second." They drove towards Garner's office, and stopped at a small coffee shop a few blocks away. "Can we discuss this back at the office? I probably shouldn't be gone much longer."

"Is it safe?" Grant didn't feel comfortable back in the lion's den.

"He won't be back all day. Once he's out, he usually stays out all day. If he does come back it'll be later on, usually when I leave for the day. I'll be alright. If he does come back, you can always hide under my desk again." she gave him a sly sidelong glance. He turned red. Back in the car they went to the office.

Once locked inside they sat around the big desk, Leaha taking the occasional phone call while they talked. Grant pulled the files that he had tucked in his waist band, under his shirt when he left the vacant office and was flipping through them. Leaha scanned them upside down as she sat across from him.

"Okay, spill it. Why are police detectives looking for you?" Grant sighed and began telling her what he knew. He started with the surveillance on Mrs. Garner and the gun shots all the way through a carefully edited version of his night in the warehouse. Then filled her in with everything up until she picked him up at the Roland's office. Leaha was quiet for a moment afterwards, processing everything he told her. Then she finally said, "If something had happened to his wife, Garner wouldn't have even come in this morning."

"Exactly. He acted like nothing was wrong, from what I could tell." Grant agreed

"He looked a little tired, but other than that seemed like it was just another day. He tends to get into his work but I think that is a little ridiculous. It's far too suspicious." she sat there thinking, as Grant began to go through the files again. "I've got a few things I need to do around here before I can leave."

Grant looked up at her, "Hey, do you think..." he nodded towards the door leading to Garner's inner sanctum.

"Don't even think about it. That thing is locked tighter than Fort Knox. There is no way either of us can get in there. And I know there is nothing out here that can help because I know these files inside and out." Grant just shrugged and went back to his reading. Half and hour later, he was rubbing his eyes and pushed them away.

"Anything helpful?" she asked him as she emptied and readied the coffee maker.

"Maybe. The first file is the stuff I already know. It's all about our case on Mrs. Garner, what we were working on until she and Anthony were shot. The second one is what gets me. It seems like Roland was working on his own investigation of her lawyer, McCreevy. There were also a lot of things about real estate and accounts that the Garner's held, specifically ones that Mrs. Garner held the most interest in."

"You said the thugs were there to meet the lawyer at the warehouse. And there was something about a drop off. Maybe he's involved somehow." Leaha offered.

"I'm pretty sure, but how. It seems shady. Either he was in on the hit, or...I don't know." Grant was getting tired from all this. It just seemed to go around in circles.

"Or she isn't dead." Leaha said as she sat next to him again. He was aware of her heat, her proximity. He tried not to think about it and concentrate on the case.

"What do you mean, not dead?"

"Well, think about it. No bodies, dirty cops, talks of drop offs. Those thugs at the warehouse talking about supplying Garner's wife seemed to know something that no one else did. Maybe it was just a ruse. The Garner's haven't been a happy couple for at least a decade, as far as I can tell. Maybe she just had enough and decided to stage all this."

"Yeah," Grant said as his mind chewed on this possibility. "Seems like the long way around. She would have a hell of a lot more to gain if she just divorced him. Why go through all his trouble?"

"Maybe he wouldn't let her divorce him." she offered. Then a thought struck her, "Or maybe she has more to gain by playing dead."

"What? That's nuts." Grant just looked at her.

"No listen. I don't see anything about their personal finances, but sitting here you pick up on things. I know he was worried about some sort of problem with his finances awhile back. I guess there were huge gaps where there shouldn't have been. Missing money." she explained to his confused expression. "Maybe she was siphoning money under his nose. Maybe she has more now than she would have in a divorce, whether he consented or not."

"Okay, but what about all the blood? Wait, those idiots at the warehouse." he said answering his own question. "Maybe they supplied it. And Halloran works for the police so I'm sure she could arrange to have the tests altered. But wait," he stopped himself, "if she is helping Mrs. Garner why would she call her husband?"

"Hard to tell, but how to see if its anything more that a bullshit theory. For all we know she could be dead." She sighed.

"We could always ask the lawyer." Grant offered.

"He could be dead by now."

"I don't think so. If the guys that took him were killers, I wouldn't be sitting here. I have a feeling I might know where to find him." Leaha leaned closer to him as he reached for a file. He was aware of her perfume.

"In here it says that McCreevy goes to some club, like clockwork, every Thursday night. Stays anywhere from fifteen minutes to three hours. Maybe he does business there?" Grant scanned the scribbled notes.

"What club?" Leaha asked, slowly getting closer and closer to him.

"The Cat O'Nine Tails. I think it's uptown." Grant could feel her grin before he saw it.

"It's Thursday isn't it? What you doing tonight?" she asked somewhat evilly.

"Going clubbing. Why are you looking at me like that? Have you been there before?" he asked her a little nervously.

"I've been there before." she looked him up and down. "We need to get you ready for tonight."

"How do you feel about collars and chains?" she asked him. This was not how he imagined this conversation playing out.

"Um...why? Is that required apparel?"

"Not so much to get in, but if you want the VIP, you have to be of a certain...clientele." her wicked grin wouldn't leave as she spoke to him. She knew this sort of thing was out of his league and was enjoying it.

"I think you'd look good in a collar." he quickly interjected hoping to turn this on her.

"Nice try sport. You'd make an awful dom." she checked her watch. "Almost time to go. I know a nice shop not far from my apartment."

"Wait a minute. Dom?" The term sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn't place it.

"Dominant. You are a submissive. And will look ravishing in a leash." She winked at him.

They left the office without incident and she drove them west towards her apartment. Nestled close to the red light district was an unassuming little store called Reacharound. The window had nice collection of short dresses and tight male shirts. Then she took him inside. Grant first noticed that it smelled slightly of incense and Astroglide. There were round racks of clothes scattered around and various things against the wall. Lords of Acid was playing on a stereo behind the counter at the back. Upon closer inspection Grant noticed that a lot of the clothes didn't have much to them. Some were even missing areas. An entire rack of crotchless underwear here, a rack of PVC uniforms there. Leaha stopped at this one and selected a shiny white and red nurses and held it up.

"What do you think?" she put held it against her flared out the plastic skirt.

"Try it on and we'll see." he said raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. We're here for you. You naughty boy." she grabbed a riding crop that was sitting above the clothes and flicked him with it. Grant followed her but was paying attention to the wall, on display above the wooden shelving were various full leather and PVC costumes. Some included masks that left only a nose hole or a zipper for the mouth. In the toy sections Grant marveled at just how flexible the body could be at the sheer size of some of them.

"Okay, come here." she called to him. She was holding out a number of silky or shiny shirts. Most of them, he wondered if he could even breath in. After grabbing a few they went looking for pants. Her arms full she led him to a dressing room in the back corner of the shop. A matronly woman watched from behind the counter with a bemused expression on her face. He thought she looked slightly out of place in this setting, she looked more like the kind to be sitting in a candle store.

He tried on all her selected outfits and modeled for her. Every one of them far tighter than he was comfortable with. The shirts showed off his muscled chest and stomach, which he didn't mind, but the pants were almost too tight to move in. Finally they settled on a tight silvery t-shirt with extra short sleeves and a pair of black pants. She took her time adjusting both the shirt and pants, running her hands across his abs and butt. It showed off his package which he didn't seem to mind. He was really beginning to enjoy it until he went back into the dressing room and she told him to wait. Then she threw one more thing over the door.

"I feel silly." He tried not so sound like he was whining.

"Let's see." Leaha was obviously enjoying herself immensely. He walked out in the same black pants but his bare torso was only barely covered. Three sets thick leather studded straps connected at the front with a large steel ring. In the back they came together with an adjustable buckle.

"I'm not sure if I have this right, and no. I am not wearing this." he tried to sound defiant but it was hard as her fingertips kept brushing against him as she made a few minor adjustments. A set of straps went over his shoulders, another across his sides, and the last down against his hips before arcing back up along his back.

"Mmmm." she examining him, "Come on, where is your sense of adventure."

"We're following someone, not out for fun." He went back into the dressing room. Once at the counter, he noticed that she still had it with her as well as the shirt and pants. "I'm not wearing that." he said again to the humor of the older woman behind the counter.

"The shirt you're wearing on our date," she stated matter of factly, Grant perking up at the statement. "But if you want to get in tonight, you are wearing that." Grumbling he relented.

Once they were back at her place, Grant tried to sit down and relax for a moment. He needed a clear head tonight if he was going to get any answers. She ordered in some Chinese. Grant gave her some money to cover her expenses, though until he paid again from Roland, he didn't have much left. They ate and chatted idly, catching up.

While Leaha was getting ready he looked around her small apartment. It was about the same size as his, but much softer. She had a lot of pictures and modern art paintings. A few Salvador Dali prints for surrealism. The furniture was just as old as his but pillows and scarves on them made them look much more chic. Finally she came out and his jaw almost dropped. She was in fishnets and tall chunky heeled shoes. A very short black skirt barely made it mid-thigh, above that a black corset with straps across the sides fringed in red. The red also ran across the top. A mesh top covered her shoulders and bosom and arms. Fingerless gloves and heavy eye make-up completed the ensemble.

"Well?" she asked grinning a deep red grin.

"Um...wow." Was all he could think of.

"Only wow?" she teased and walked closer to him on foot in front of the other.

"How about holy shit. You look good." he swallowed hard.

"That's better," she stopped and put her hands on her hips. "Your turn." Reluctantly he got up and went to dress. When he emerged into her living room again, she adjusted his straps, her fingers lingering a little more once she was done. "Okay, one last thing." and she disappeared again. He could hear her rummaging in her closet. He sat back down carefully, he felt as if one wrong move and he would split the seam of his pants, they were a lot tighter than he was used to.

"Here we go." She stood in front of him, long black leather leash in one hand and a velvet collar that said PRINCESS in rhinestone.

"Fuck no." he just glared at her, until she erupted in laughter and went back into the bedroom to retrieve a large thick leather collar. No rhinestones. "Is this necessary?" he asked as she buckled it on his neck.

"If you want to get in to the VIP where I can guarantee your lawyer is going to be, then yes." once she was done she attached the leash and then kissed him on the tip of the nose. She gave the leash a sharp jerk. "Now come along slave boy." Feeling very embarrassed and slightly aroused he followed her out the door. Once they stepped outside, he looked to make sure no one was watching, but then reminded himself that they were going where there would be a lot of somebodies paying attention around. He felt naked and chilly. They slid into her car and zoomed away. It only took about ten minutes to get there. They parked in a small lot a block away. The club looked small, single story building with a lot of neon. It was connected to a large warehouse. There were a number of people milling around outside and a very very large bouncer standing at the door. There was the usual thump of music as they approached. As they got closer, Leaha grabbed his leash.

"You do what I say, when I say it. Here," she handed him a black eye mask. He put it round his neck, but didn't put it on. She had one that was similar but was covered with black flat feathers. "When we get in the VIP we might need these."

"This place doesn't look very big, you keep mentioning this VIP room." Grant asked.

"See that warehouse, that's the VIP room." She let him gawk for a minute. "Okay, to play this part I will tell you what to do when. You are my pet," she couldn't help but grin. She knew he wasn't comfortable with this but it was still kind of fun, "and I get to lead you around. Hopefully this little show will get us in the back."

"Right, and when we get back there then we can find McCreevy. You remember what he looks like?" he asked her.

"Like that?" she pointed at the Cat O'Nine Tails. He followed her finger and saw that McCreevy, wearing a dapper brown suit was just entering the club.

"Perfect. Let's go." he stated to go only to be yanked forcibly back.

"You have to wait for me to tell you to." she purred.

"Yes, mistress." This could almost be fun, he thought. She led him to the front door, the large bouncer just eyed them as they walked in. The club was dim, lit only with neon. It did look a little bigger inside than out, but the darkness helped with the illusion. Acrid smoke hung in the air, a combination of clove and menthol, other more expensive things. It made Grant a little light headed. Along the left were a series of low booths, in the middle were tall spidery tables. The bar ran along the back and some of the left side. The shelves on the back wall were glass, lit with neon. The bartenders hurried about to fill orders and a couple servers gracefully made their way between tables and ass grabs. What got him was the variation of the people. Dapper businessmen sat drinking Highballs a table away from couples dressed wilder, and less, than Leaha and himself. A couple goths walked by them, jingling in zippers and buckles sneering at a group of recent 21 year olds dressed as if this were just a regular club downtown. The center of attention, whether overtly or not, was a padded red leather oversized door on the right wall. Two bouncers in black t-shirts stood there. There were people milling around it but few seemed courageous enough to confront the bouncers. These were the folks in a lot of leather, a few of them in trench coats despite the warmth of the room. The music filled the room, a slow sexy techno.