Vice Cop Ch. 04

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Lexa goes undercover in Atlantic City.
12.4k words
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Part 4 of the 13 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 09/04/2007
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Previously on Vice Cop, Hudson was almost killed when lured into a trap by the beautiful pawn, Candy, under instructions of the drug lord Leo Mendoza and his Russian girlfriend Marina Brazilova. Lexa and Detective Mason came to his rescue and Lexa was offered a position of vice cop, but she declined. Hudson and Lexa returned to New York City where further exploits await them. The time is the 1980's.

I realize that some readers prefer to read the sex scenes only and don't care for elaborate plots and storylines so if you're one of those readers, pretend this is a DVD movie and "skip" to "NINE" for a sex scene between Hudson and an ex-girlfriend. For those who enjoy plot, this chapter has more of it. Keep in mind this is supposed to be an adventure thriller/cop series with lots of action and plot, a kind of throwback to 1980's series like Magnum P.I. "Miami Vice" "Hunter" or even the "A Team".

ONE

The night was cool and long.

Driving through the dimly lit streets of a slum, Hudson could feel a melancholy longing begin to overpower him. If only he could find a beautiful and loving woman to share his life with. All he wanted was to become a highly respected vice cop and bounty hunter and come home to a woman who would think of nothing but to please him. There would be little children; boys, he hoped, who would admire their cop dad and with whom he could play football with. This cozy little dream was beginning to distract him when he heard gun shots and screams and his thoughts returned to the present reality.

He pulled over by an alley where the screams were coming from. Getting out of the police car, he watched as a group of young hoodlums, all male, beat up a man and woman in an attempt to steal money and items from them. Hudson took instant action. There were several of these guys so he knew he would need back-up. He picked up his communication device to call the other officers on the beat nearby. Then he got out of his police car and ran to the scene. A few of the young guys began to run. Hudson seized a few of the guys and took out his handgun.

"This is going to end right here, right now," he shouted.

The couple was shivering with fear and lying on their stomachs with their hands over their heads. Hudson noticed that the woman had bruise marks. In a matter of minutes, the other cops arrived. Hudson had fought off some of the more aggressive thugs and they were on the ground with their hands over their heads.

"Party's over, fellas. You're all under arrest," cried an officer as he and the rest began to cuff the guys and restrain them.

"These guys are in a gang," said an officer to Hudson, "these parts of the Bronx have increased in gang activity in the past year. Well, done Hudson. You've been doing a lot of these kinds of arrests. You deserve a vacation."...............

Hudson could not have agreed more. He did need a vacation. It had been a few months since his experience in Miami. When anyone on the force brought it up, Hudson would growl and put on his mean face to let them know he didn't wish to talk about it. It brought back painful memories of a crushed ego. He had lost Candy, having mistakenly believed she was on his side. Lexa had saved his life and she had gained even more fame on the force. Soon after she returned to New York City, she was hailed a hero and the job of vice cop was practically hers. Everyone spoke highly of her and it annoyed him to the extreme. He could not look at Lexa in the face and he avoided her as best he could.

He was alone in his room at home, sprawled nude on his bed, reading a Playboy magazine and smoking, when his eyes fell on an ad. It was advertising nightclubs and escort services in Atlantic City, New Jersey. He had never gone to Atlantic City, despite the fact it was not far away in the least. He loved to dance and visualized himself at a dance club, arms around a pretty girl and having the time of his life. Of course, it would help if he knew and had feelings for the girl but at the moment, there was no one special he could take for a weekend in Atlantic City. There was also the thrill of casino gambling and the luxury and leisure of a nice hotel. All in all, not a bad way to get away from New York City and his routine life as a cop.

As he gazed at a picture of a sexy girl in the ad section of the magazine, he felt his heart beat a tad faster. She possessed a look of odd familiarity. Where had he seen this girl? That round, strong face, those dark, alluring eyes, that long straight dark hair and that killer body, all were somehow familiar to him. He felt as if he had known this girl in his past. But he couldn't put his finger on where and when. There was no use in trying to remember. His memory was faulty. He knew that if he continued to think about it, perhaps a memory would be sparked. He was only in his twenties but he had been a cop for what seemed like an eternity now and he felt much older. Growing up in New York City, he had become tough as nails and in a sense had aged. As he read more about the massage services, hotel dining, casinos and shows, he was convinced he should go to Atlantic City for a weekend. He would have to tell the Chief all about it.

TWO

Hudson stood at the front door of Professor Goldstein's place. Since there was no one else he could invite to Atlantic City, he figured the Professor would want to go. Then again, maybe not, he thought. The Professor had always been a square. He went to bed early, often as soon as it became dark, and he would wake up early before dawn, he taught music classes all day and came home to lonely dinners for one. He had been married to a wonderful woman but she had died of lung cancer and he often wallowed in memories of a long-ago honeymoon, and surrounded himself in photographs of better times. Maybe a trip to Atlantic City would be good for him, thought Hudson.

The door opened and the elderly Professor gave him a strong hug.

"Do come in, Hudson," he said to him, "and I'll make us some tea."

"No tea for me, Professor," said Hudson, who had become bored with the Professor's Earl Greys, "I came here to talk to you about a trip I'm taking this weekend to Atlantic City."

"Well, come in and we'll talk about it."

Hudson took a seat in the living room. Handel's Water Music was playing in the background and Hudson was familiar with it because the Professor had recently introduced him to that piece. As he waited for the Professor to come back, Hudson recalled how in this very same living room, right there by the fire place, he had first met Lexa O'Neil.

Up till then, he had not seen a more beautiful woman. It was such a shame she turned out to be a cop and a damn good one at that. Still, she would sometimes sneak into his thoughts and he would sigh in frustration and longing. Try as he could, he could not completely eliminate Lexa from his mind and this made him very upset.

The Professor returned and sat down next to Hudson, drinking his tea.

"Now, then, what about Atlantic City?"

"I'll be there this weekend, at the Atlantis Hotel. I'd like for you to join me."

"Me? Well I'm flattered you thought of me. I don't think I can stay for a whole weekend, though. Would you be alright with me being there for one day only?"

"That's alright, Professor. I'll pick you up early that morning. I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun."

"Yes, maybe Lady Luck will smile on you or on me."

"I sure hope so, Professor."

And perhaps, thought Hudson, that luck would include finding a girl...........

* * * *

Lexa O'Neil had been called into the Chief's office on a matter that was top secret, which meant he hadn't told anyone else about it. This made Lexa feel especially good but she wondered how dangerous an assignment it might be. She often feared that someday, somehow, her life, already full of risk, could come to an abrupt end. Many a cop she had known had died doing their duty and although that was a noble way to go, she wanted to live a long and full life and not die until she was so old it was ridiculous. She was in her uniform and had been on duty. Her hair was in a short bun but this was hardly noticeable as she had on her officer's cap.

"You wanted to see me, Chief?" she said to him.

"Have a seat, Miss O'Neil," the Chief said to her, "I have a mission for you that I'm certain you can accomplish."

Lexa sat down and crossed her legs. She felt like having a cigarette but she knew that the Chief would frown upon it. She stared at him with a look of cool composure. She had never found him to be attractive, though she was more than sure he found her to be very desirable. Many times he had given her stolen looks and would smile every time she entered a room. The Chief was an older man, in his fifties, a bit chubby, bald and decidedly single. His name was Barry Hiller, but everyone simply called him "Chief" a title he was proud of.

"What is it you want me to do?" Lexa said to him.

"I've been informed by Atlantic City Police that many of their female officers won't do undercover work for them there. They heard of you and they know that you are one tough cookie with brains and beauty to boot so they figured they could use you."

"Use me? What would they have me do?"

"There are reports of all kind of illegal activities – drug trafficking, prostitution and the like, and they want you to go undercover to put a stop to the prostitution rings."

"They want me to pose as a hooker?"

"That's correct."

"Is there more to this? Something you're not telling me?"

"You're quite smart, Miss O'Neil. As a matter of fact, there is more to this case. It appears that there have been a series of brutal murders in Atlantic City. Prostitutes have been targeted by an unknown serial killer and more and more of them are showing up dead by the boardwalks, by alleys and in hotel rooms. New Jersey police and detectives need all the help they can get in pursuit of this crazy killer."

"You should have told me this from the start, Chief," Lexa reprimanded him, and she was able to do so for she felt she was his equal, "were you afraid that if you told me I wouldn't take up the undercover job?"

"Well, yes. And now that you know, what do you say? Will you do it or not?"

She was silent and thought to herself for a moment. The Chief opened a drawer and retrieved a cigar case. He noticed Lexa's gleaming eye and realized she wanted to smoke so he handed her a cigar. Quietly, they smoked in his office. She didn't say a word until she got up and walked in circles around his office.

"When would they want me to go to Atlantic City for this?"

"This weekend," he said to her.

She put out her cigar when she was finished, then she turned to the Chief. It couldn't be all that bad, she thought to herself. And it was just the type of excitement and adventure she craved. She wanted to be part of stings, secret missions and operations and didn't care if she crossed boundaries as a cop.

"I'll do it," she answered.

THREE

Atlantic City, New Jersey, morning,

Hudson and Professor Goldstein were in the café of the Atlantis Hotel.

Over coffee, they discussed their plans for the day. The Professor was not into the nightlife, not any city's nightlife, not even his own in New York City. The only "nights" he went out were nights he attended the symphony or opera. He decided that for the remainder of the day he would spend time in the casino. He loved the slot machines. They agreed to meet for lunch but after dinner, the Professor intended to return to New York City. He had bought his own car, a small and unattractive vehicle next to Hudson's new Corvette. The morning was beautiful and from the café's glass windows they could see the boardwalk and the ocean. Thousands of people were up and about and everywhere they heard people's excited voices and the sound of slot machines, roulette wheels turning and people enjoying themselves in various restaurants and shops.

"Alright, Professor," Hudson said to him, "you enjoy yourself. I'll meet you at the casino for lunch at twelve."

"And where will you be headed, Mr. Banach?" the Professor wanted to know.

"I don't know. I want to explore a bit. I think I'll check out the other casinos, maybe go to a bar."

A Japanese woman walked up to Hudson and tapped him on the shoulder. She had long red hair which was obviously dyed and naughty eyes. Hudson eyed her from top to bottom. She was dressed in a tight skirt and had on heavy make-up. She handed him a flyer.

"Please to check out our massage parlor, Moon Pearl," she said in a heavy Japanese accent," you will enjoy your time at Moon Pearl."

"Thank you," Hudson replied and watched as she left.

She headed into the direction of other men seated in another part of the café-restaurant.

Evidently, she was only seeking out men. Hudson was about to throw away the ad which he was certain was not about a massage parlor but a brothel or escort service when he froze. The girl in the ad was the same girl he had seen on the ad in the Playboy magazine. Again, he was struck with the strange sense that he knew this girl. Curiosity was driving him mad. Who was she? How could he feel so strongly about this unknown girl? Determined to figure out who she was, he decided he'd check out that Moon Pearl place and he wouldn't wait till nightfall...................

FOUR

Lexa O'Neil had arrived in New Jersey. She had brought a portable phone to keep in touch with the Chief and other cops had been sent to Atlantic City to aid her in the mission.

The Chief had provided her with directions to Atlantic City Police headquarters where she would meet with their Chief who would instruct her on her undercover work.

She arrived at the station, wearing a pair of Rayban Wayfarers and though she was out of uniform she carried her badge. At the station, police officers were up and about, and the place was filled with petty criminals and prostitutes. A man, blonde, fit and older looking, in a trench coat looked at Lexa as if he knew her. When she approached him, she realized who it was.

"Detective Mason Holmes, what are you doing in Atlantic City?" she said.

They shared a brief hug.

"I'm here investigating the serial killer who's been cutting up and killing prostitutes," he said, "they're calling him Atlantic City's Jack the Ripper. It's a nightmare for some of these girls. We're trying to get them off the streets with good reasons."


"And still, many girls are hooking," Lexa said, as she looked around and saw many provocatively dressed girls of different races smoking and preening in their hand held mirrors around her.

"Oldest profession in the world," said Mason Holmes with a grin, "but tell me just what are you doing here? Why aren't you in New York City? Are you on vacation?"

"Hardly, detective. I'm doing undercover work. It's also related to the serial killer. I'm going to play the part of a prostitute in an effort to catch johns and pimps. The Chief of my force assigned me to this mission. I guess doing this will also help draw out the serial killer."

Detective Mason Holmes looked at her with a bit of surprise. Lexa had said those words so calmly, so naturally, as if she were discussing the weather. He had a concerned look in his face.

"Miss O'Neil, you must be careful," he said to her, "please. I wouldn't want you to be in any danger."

"Oh, that's sweet of you to worry, detective," she said to him, "but I can take care of myself and I'm sure I'll be fine. And call me Lexie."

"Only if you quit calling me "Detective" and call me Mason, the name my Momma gave me."

He smiled at her, almost flirtatiously.

"Alright...Mason," Lexa flirted right back...............

In a room inside headquarters, Lexa was changing into the outfit she would wear for the night. She sat down on a chair, putting on nylon stockings over her sexy, long legs. Her outfit was one she would never wear in her wildest dreams. The skirt was very short, tight red leather, and the blouse was also red, with a plunging neckline.

Her cleavage was showing and her hair was in a bouffant hairdo, almost looking like she was wearing an Afro. She was applying lipstick and eye shadow when Detective Mason Holmes walked in on her. He was breathless as he surveyed her up and down with his eyes.

"Whoa, Lexie," he said to her, "look at you. If I wasn't who I was – "

He laughed, his heavy masculine laughter filling the room. Lexie laughed along with him.

"I don't feel sexy at all," she said, "I feel ridiculous. And take a look at these heels."

She showed them to him. They were red stiletto heels that cried "whore".

"Ever worn anything like those?"

"Never in my life. I'll have a hard time walking in them."

"You'll do fine. Come on, put them on and walk around a bit."

"Mason, you bad!" she said, bursting into amused laughter.

She got up and strutted around for him, trying to get a feel for what it was like walking around in high heels.

"I wish they had given me hooker boots instead," she said to him, "I've worn boots before and they're much easier to walk in. But oh well."

"You will turn heads at the boardwalk. Ok, Lexie, I just wanted to wish you luck."

"Thanks," she said to him, "I'll need it."

FIVE

The erotic sensual strains of Ravel's Bolero was playing in the Muzak at the Moon Pearl Massage Parlor. Hudson was quick to recognize the piece, again owing to his friendship with the Professor who seemed to know of every bit of classical music ever made. It was about nine in the evening and the Professor had returned to New York City, uninterested in spending any more time in Atlantic City. He had won forty dollars in the slot machines and had been in a jovial mood. Hudson was glad he was gone. The side of him that he didn't want him, or anyone else to know about, was kicking in, like a sort of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde dichotomy. He played the good cop for the most part, but being in the Sin City of the East Coast, he felt like indulging in a little vice. There was also the matter of discovering who that enigmatic girl in the ad really was.

Inside, Hudson was surrounded in beauty. The place presented itself as a professional business and there was a front desk, clients waiting their turn and beautiful women, dressed in tight skirts and revealing blouses, high heels and scented in perfume, walked to and fro. Hudson recognized the Japanese lady in either dyed red hair or a wig and she seemed to remember him as well. She was behind a desk and she made a gesture with her hand offering him a seat in front of her desk.

He sauntered toward the front desk and the women walking about took notice of how handsome and ruggedly built he was. He sat down and took a look around him. The clients were all men.

"You want full body massage, back rub, what would you like?" the Japanese lady said to him, smiling from ear to ear.

"I – uh, well," Hudson said nervously.

"This your first time?" the lady asked, knowingly.

"Actually, yeah, it is," Hudson replied, "what would you recommend?"

"You big man. What do you do for a living? Are you a professional football player? Construction worker?"

"I'm a cop."

"Lots of stress in that job. Well, I recommend you get full body massage. I'm going to sign you up for that. I'll get you our best girl. You wait a few minutes, ok?"

He waited and fidgeted with his hands, his eyes restlessly searching the place. This was a part of him he used as a cop, the spying, and the looking, in search of any illegal activity. He realized he was off duty and he was outside his jurisdiction in New Jersey, so it would be impossible to do any sort of cop work here. The other men waiting for their massage sessions were a mixed group. Some were young and college-age and others in their middle age, but they all possessed the look of lustful anticipation. When the Japanese woman returned, she approached Hudson and told him to follow her into a room in the rear. Hudson realized this room was reserved for special clients because it was so out of the way.