Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 04

And talk about goddamn coincidences. What were the odds of DeWight buying the club his buddy's fiancée danced at and he himself had brokered!

It made the miracle of finding out DeWight was unaware of Jeffries and the stripper's relationship even more useful.

Now that he thought about it, Geiger understood Mr. Jeffries' detachment last night. When sitting and having his verbal repartee with DeWight, Geiger had been surprised when the stripper—Jeffries' fiancée—had come over and sat in DeWight's lap, who had openly fondled her ass like his own property. The evening now made more sense if the couple was hiding their relationship, and he was amazed at Jeffries' self-control.

Through the whole account given by Jeffries he only asked a few questions, verifying dates, asking full names of people mentioned, and so forth. Reaffirming his assessment he discovered the man had an impeccable memory, able to answer most of his questions regardless of the time frame; then again, the man must have dwelled on how his life had been brutalized by DeWight continuously.

Mr. Jeffries paused after recounting meeting up with DeWight and selling the clubs, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to say next.

Geiger looked at the man in question, marveling at the man's equanimity. Not only had he put up with DeWight's mental abuse for years, but he maintained his peace in light of his fiancée's profession, which he obviously did not approve of. The officer knew many men who had ended relationships with exotic dancers due to the jealousy that developed.

When Jeffries began speaking again, Geiger's eyes widened in disbelief, almost falling out of his seat finding out not only had the man known of DeWight seducing Diamond, but had watched the whole thing!

He again marveled at Jeffries' fortitude seeing his fiancée fucked by DeWight and not holding any blame against her. Geiger had watched the video posted on the site, recognizing it immediately as security footage, and there was no doubt—drugged or not—the woman had enjoyed the encounter. He did not know if Jeffries was the biggest pussy he had ever met, or the most patient and forgiving man deserving sainthood—until he looked at the man, seeing the anger within his eyes.

After years in law enforcement, Geiger knew that gaze; it was the look of somebody who had reached their limit. If you saw that look from an armed suspect you took them down without a moment's hesitation. It was the look of somebody who no longer cared about collateral damage, focusing only on his objective; in this case, he guessed it was Charles DeWight's downfall.

As Geiger mentally filed all that happened to Jeffries and the stripper, a plan began to develop in his mind.

He realized he should call her by her name, Jennifer Simmons; however, with his current train of thought it was best to keep her as distant as possible. She was a tool to be used to further his investigation, and he could not concern himself about how she went about it. That did not mean he wanted to see her come to any harm, but there were different degrees of harm, and he needed to worry more about life and death scenarios than morals.

"I would like to once again apologize for last night," he told them both sincerely. "I knew what DeWight wanted to happen, and I assumed the room was under surveillance?" he asked the stripper who nodded. "I did not want DeWight to think there was anything going on but a vice cop letting a stripper off for a freebie," he told them. "I was angling for the 'crooked cop' routine, hoping DeWight would buy it and not see me as a threat, maybe even somebody he could use," he explained.

Diamond nodded her head in understanding, but he was focused on Jeffries' reaction. The man's composure never wavered, even in light of openly discussing his fiancée sucking Geiger off the night before.

Once again the beginnings of a plan returned, specifically using Jeffries' animosity towards DeWight to use as impetus to further his main purpose in coming here today. What he was thinking was as manipulative as DeWight, but with the prospect of the task force being disbanded and kicked off the case due to its lack of progress over the last couple years, the ends justified the means.

"So what is he wanted for?" Jeffries asked suddenly, as Geiger realized it was his turn to 'lay the cards on the table.

He was now completely convinced of both Mr. Jeffries and Miss Simmons' innocence and naiveté in the situation, but they were the only breaks in the case he had since his partner went missing. Realizing at this point he had to trust in his cause, he answered.

"I ask that what I am about to tell you stay strictly between us; if Charles DeWight or anybody associated with him learns the specifics of this investigation, years of work and the lives of several people—my own partner's included—will have been in vain," he told them seriously. "Charles DeWight—along with several of his associates—is under investigation for numerous transgressions including organized crime, fraud, tax evasion, drug trafficking, human trafficking, sexual assault, rape, extortion, racketeering—the list is pretty extensive," he told them, "including suspected murder."

Geiger saw Diamond's eyes grow wide as he listed the crimes DeWight was currently under investigation for, once again looking at the beautiful woman's figure. While they had been talking her robe had once again fallen open, again appreciating the swell of her breasts covered by the lace camisole top.

He continued speaking, trying to take his mind off the sexual fantasies in his mind as he beheld the woman.

"As you understand, these charges are not something a local vice cop would be involved in. Although my real name is Patrick Geiger, my title is actually Special Agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation," he told them, pulling out his real badge and showing it to them. "Obviously that information is classified, as my cover as a vice cop needs to hold. It was a last ditch effort to try and find some lead before my superiors closed the case," he said dejectedly.

Seeing both of their questioning faces, he continued. "This case has been open for over four years, and although the accusations keep piling up, the evidence has gotten us nowhere. As I mentioned to Di—uh, Miss Simmons," he quickly corrected himself, "every time we get close enough to stick some charge on DeWight, he slithers away like a greased pig.

"After years of man hours, covert surveillance, money, and unfortunately lives lost, my superiors are being pressured to categorize this as a cold case, ending current investigations and only reopening it if something relevant comes to light," he told them. "I suspect DeWight has his fingers even in the Bureau," he confided. "Which is why the investigation became classified after my partner's disappearance," he explained. "Other than those of my team and high level directors, nobody in the Bureau is aware of what it going on."

Seeing the inquiry in their faces he said, "Charles DeWight is not a man to be taken lightly. My partner went undercover as a dancer at another one of his clubs," he told them, looking directly at Miss Simmons. "Although she could not get corporate access, our interest focused on that particular club, rumored to be involved in DeWight's Ecstasy trafficking. All we can fathom is her cover was somehow blown and she was removed from the equation," he said tightly, trying to keep his emotions in check as he thought of Rachel, the pain in his chest still too recent. "She went missing a year ago and has not been heard from since. She is considered 'missing in action' and presumed dead, although her case, combined with this investigation, will remain open," he told them, "the task force will no longer be actively pursuing it."

"You think DeWight murdered her," the woman said quietly, her eyes wide.

Geiger nodded, "If not him, somebody in his employ, but not without his knowledge," he told them. "Never underestimate the man; there is not one thing that goes on in any club or concerns anything about DSA that DeWight is not aware of, which is why we have not been able to get another person into a position to work the case," he said, looking at the woman before him, "until now."

"Wait, what does Jen have to do with this?" Dan asked. "You can't just have her waltz up to Chuck and get whatever evidence you need," he said exasperated. "You yourself said it's dangerous, and you haven't been able to find anything in years, so why bother?" he asked.

Knowing there was only one way to get through to the man, he played his one and only trump card, looking sternly at Mr. Jeffries.

"Let me tell you the reality of the situation," Special Agent Geiger said, the frustration of several years of dead ends building upon his conscious. "Your woman right there is going to become a porn actress. You want to know who is responsible for that?" he said, his voice getting louder, "Charles DeWight. She will be made to fuck and suck any swinging dick he picks for the sole purpose of making money. He will sell her body to the top dollar, and he will keep doing it until she either is worn out, gets diseased, or he grows tired of her," he told the man sitting across from him. "He has done it to every girl he has ever had a fancy towards, and he will do it long after she is used up," he said adamantly.

As Jeffries opened his mouth to say something Agent Geiger held up his hand, interrupting him, "No, let me finish. You think you had it hard watching her strip in front of a group of strangers? Imagine her being forced to fuck them. Charles DeWight does not care about her, about you, nor has any morality you and I hold. He will do it to her, he will do it to other women, and he will keep doing it," he told the man forcibly. "There is nothing, and I repeat NOTHING that we can do about that, whether you agree to help or not. What you can do is help put DeWight away in a cage somewhere for the rest of his life, allowing her to be free of her contract and free of the bleak future ahead of her," he said.

"We can find a way out of the contract," Jeffries replied as Geiger shook his head.

"Trust me, many have tried, and they have ended up worse than when they started; destitute, some missing, others forced to make money doing worse things than they had been made to do to begin with," he told him. "Charles DeWight does not merely win against opposition, he crushes it," he said.

Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself a bit before continuing. "I have promised to have our legal department look over the contract, but do not hold your breath," he told him, offering some hope to the bleakness he described.

"In the meanwhile, if nothing is done DeWight will win. It may take threats, it may take blackmail, or he may end up drugging your woman enough times it won't matter, but your fiancée is a DSA spokesmodel, which in Charles DeWight's world means his own personal slut to do as he pleases," he told him emphatically.

"Is what I'm asking it dangerous?" he said to both of them. "Hell yes, but regardless of any danger, the outcome and what will come to pass for her because of DeWight will be the same. I am offering the only possible way out," he told the man.

Geiger felt awful seeing the faces of the couple before him. He had completely crushed any hope they had held, but he had only stated the truth which they had already considered. It was why he needed to distance himself and not think of the woman as anything else but an informant. There was nothing he could do to help her beyond shortening her suffering.

The inevitability was truth; bad things happened to good people, and as long as he had been in the Bureau—and before that on the police force—you could not make it go away. In the end, you considered your job successful if you could merely ease or shorten the torment of others.

"What makes you think I will be of any use?" the woman asked, drawing Geiger and Jeffries' attention. "What can I do that your partner, a trained FBI agent, could not do?" she asked.

"For one thing, you'll have access to DSA corporate buildings. What we learned while Rachel was undercover was DSA spokesmodels have carte blanche to most buildings and areas across the country. Every DSA employee is given a key card which grants them access to buildings and rooms pertinent for their job. Apparently DSA spokesgirls are given access to every facility in the case of any spur-of-the-moment engagements," he told them, not going into any detail on what those engagements entailed.

"You may find something we never could in a single club," he told her. "I am not asking you do to anything to jeopardize your welfare, just asking you to keep an eye out for something, anything," he pleaded to her, "and let us know about it."

"What about Dan?" she asked.

"The fact DeWight doesn't know you two are a couple is a bonus in light of the animosity between him and DeWight, as he cannot use it against you. We can relocate Mr. Jeffries to a safe house until we can find a way to help you out of the contract," he told them. He did not tell them if there was no eventual progress they would both be left at DeWight's mercy.

"No," the woman asked leaning forward, drawing his attention back to her revealing attire, "I mean Dan can help," she said.

Her fiancé looked at her in surprise, "Tell me you're not going to suggest what I think you are?" he asked.

The stripper shrugged, causing her breasts to quiver up and down pulling the agent's attention to her chest. "Mr. DeWight offered you a job, what if you take it?" she asked.

Immediately Geiger's attention was drawn away from the succulent flesh as he looked at her in surprise. "He did what?" he asked, completely taken off guard.

"Dan was offered a job by Mr. DeWight. At the time we both laughed it off—like Dan would ever do anything for him, but now..." her voice trailed off, looking at her fiancé.

"What kind of job?" the agent asked, clearly intrigued.

"Chuck asked me to be the DSA broker-slash-realtor," he told him. "Apparently his old one was caught stealing from the company or something and was fired," he said.

"Oh, I'm sure he was fired," the agent replied, "the question is by what caliber."

"You don't mean he was killed!" the woman exclaimed as he nodded.

"We have been wondering for several months what had become of Emery Phelps, the previous broker. We figured he had been removed from his position, just not the circumstances around his disappearance. It figures the greedy slime-ball was skimming from DSA and got caught, guess the branch chief wins that bet," he told them abstractedly.

"What exactly did DeWight tell you," the agent asked, his mind working overtime at all the sudden information falling into his lap at this visit.

Jeffries thought a moment before answering. "Well, he said he needed somebody to help buy properties, and he respected my judgment based on how I handled brokering the two clubs. The bastard said he could trust me, having known me for years," he laughed in sarcasm. "The arrogant ass actually thought I would agree," he said.

Diamond reached out and held her fiancé's hand and looked at the agent. "What if Dan accepted. He would also have access to records and such, right?" she queried.

Geiger slowly nodded, absently stroking his two-day-old beard. "Yes. Actually Emery Phelps shadowed DeWight most of the time when at corporate headquarters. It was only when he was traveling to scout out possible new clubs they were separated. In fact, if Mr. Jeffries were willing, we would be able to infiltrate any new clubs before they were even bought!" he exclaimed, the prospect obviously exciting him as he explained to the two civilians. "In the past we have never been able to place taps in the clubs," he told them. "DeWight is very careful, only hiring his own contractors for repairs and renovations whom he has used for years. One of the first things done when he buys a new property is removes any previous wiring or surveillance and installing his own. If we knew of purchases beforehand..." his voice trailed off as he thought of the possibilities.

"If we were to agree," the woman asked, "would the investigation still be closed?"

The agent shook his head. "Not closed, categorized as a cold case. But to answer you, no, a case is labeled cold only if there are no new leads or an ongoing operation, and then only after a long period of time. The last lead we had was over a year ago when Rachel—my partner—disappeared. We could not follow up on it as it would jeopardize our investigation getting involved. We had to let the local police handle it. As expected, the investigation went nowhere," he said dejectedly. "Nobody spends much time on a missing stripper with a past history of substance abuse—even if that history was only a cover, we could not let them know our interest," he told them.

"Since then every lead has been a dead end," he continued. "If we had two people involved with the company working with us, that would buy us some time," he told them, becoming excited at the possibility.

Finally as if reaching a decision, he asked them, "So I asked you this once before, but now I repeat it to both of you, how far are you willing to go to put Charles DeWight behind bars for the rest of his life?"

The couple looked at each other for a moment before Mr. Jeffries asked, "Do you mind if we have a moment?"

The FBI agent nodded his head. "This is not a decision to be taken lightly," Geiger told them, "so take your time. I need to check in anyways," he told them, waving to his laptop.

"You can stay here," the dancer told him, "we'll be in the living room," she said as they exited.

Before the doors to the study closed, he heard Mr. Jeffries' voice as it faded away, "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

********************

Jen did not reply to Dan's outburst until the study doors were closed and they had entered the living room. For once she was the composed one, Dan the one frazzled. Just like this morning when she had woken up, she was resigned to her fate, a calm detachment overcoming her.

The cop—or agent she corrected herself—was right, there was little chance of finding an out from the contract. She had little hope of the FBI's legal department finding any loophole to her advantage, not after hearing of all the other court cases where women had tried to get out of theirs.

And he only confirmed what she already suspected, somehow, someway, Mr. DeWight would crush her resistance, force her to comply with her contract and give her body to anybody he wanted. He had already proven it was possible, seducing and fucking her the first night he owned the club. As if hammering his will into her she had again complied with his demands, ending up dancing and being felt up by his contractors on her day off practicing. She had again followed his command sucking off Tim, and on the same day did the same to the man in the other room.

It was only a matter of time, and if the videos were any evidence, maybe she had already succumbed. She would still fight it, but in the end, she was resigned Mr. DeWight would overcome her rejection and coerce her into doing exactly what the agent had said, be a DSA slut for hire.

Jen had been thinking about it all day, and the agent only verified her assumptions. Her only way out was helping find something to put him away, thereby making her contract null and void.

Silencing any further comment from Dan, she calmly explained her reasoning. Whether she helped the agent with his investigation or not, what would happen to her remained the same; as much as they wished to deny it, she had signed a contract firmly entrenching herself into the adult entertainment industry.

Resigned to the outcome, she realized she was also resigned to something she had convinced herself was inevitable as well. Although she had a brief moment of happiness this morning, the truth was she was losing Dan. No man could put up with what she was now sullenly accepting.