Jackson turned the stereo up and thrummed the steering wheel of his truck. His head moved to the tune of Naveed by Our Lady Peace. He gazed around the small, shaded parking area of Macy's condo complex waiting for her to emerge.

Not too many people knew Jackson but Macy had been working in L.A. as a cop for 4 years. Her face was well known among the criminal and civilian population. He had altered his appearance simply by donning a wide-brimmed Stetson, Wranglers, and cowboy boots. Macy, on the other hand, needed a more elaborate change. He knew from experience that undercover work was something she was always prepared for.

They were planning to arrange the purchase of a "re-Vinned" vehicle. The purpose of the vehicle wouldn't need to be disclosed. There were plenty of seedy reasons someone with lots of money would require the use of an untraceable vehicle and neither buyer nor seller would expect details about the other one's intentions. Jackson didn't plan to go any further than gleaning information. The ultimate goal was just to locate this "Tyrone" guy. He was their only lead on the car-theft ring and therefore a possible connection to the "super friends". 

Jackson's narrow gaze roamed from the street back toward Macy's front door and stopped. His eyes widened with surprise. He gaped at the woman who had emerged and was walking toward his truck with her hips swaying slowly. Instead of his short, blonde Betty Boop partner, a tall, slender, brunette with skin-tight Levis tucked into knee-high boots that sported at least 6-inch heels came sauntering toward him. She wore a stylish cowboy hat pulled low. It cast a shadow over her eyes. Her blouse was red and unbuttoned to just shy of an appropriate level and it allowed a glimpse of soft cleavage. She wore a slim-fitted Levi's jacket that matched her jeans.

Her dark hair fell down her back to just above her round butt. He recognized her button-nose and plump, pouty lips. They were red, now, rather than the pretty pale pink she usually wore.

He was stunned. Not so much by the clothing and hair. It was the sudden change in height. She looked as though she might even be close to eye level. He realized he was gawking at her and forced himself to look away and get out of the truck. He composed himself and walked around to her side.

Macy smiled brightly as she walked up and faced him. Maybe her clothing and boots gave the illusion of more height than was reality, but she was definitely inches taller than she had been when she'd gone inside the condo.

"Howdy, Cowboy," Macy purred in a low, throaty voice. It was different than her usual annoying and girly pitch.

Jackson stared at her again. Why, in the name of all things that did not give him a headache, did she not speak like this ALL the time?

"What is it you've got up in that condo of yours, Macy? Torture devices?"

She looked puzzled.

"Well, you must've spent all that time in there on one of those medieval stretching machines. How'd you get so tall?"

"Oh, that!" she started to say in her usual girlish voice. She realized her mistake and corrected it, continuing on in her new, southern-drawl-like purr. "I have lifts in my boots. It's a bit like walking on stilts but I've spent lots of time practicing, so it comes fairly natural."

Jackson grinned his boyish grin at her and reached up to tilt his hat ever so slightly. "Well then, ma'am, you look mighty fine. You ready to git 'er done?"

Macy giggled and tipped her hat in return. "Let's ride, Cowboy!"

He helped her up into the truck, slammed the door shut loudly (hearing her faint, muffled squeak of surprise through the closed window), and went around to climb in. They drove a short distance to a special, police-owned parking garage to exchange his truck for a sleek, pearl-gray Cadillac. It had soft, white leather seats and a plush interior. It was one of the police department's "under-cover" vehicles.

Jackson slid in behind the wheel and, after getting Macy situated, let out a sigh. "Now this is ridin' in style, milady!"

He pulled out of the enclosed parking garage. The disguise was complete. They had Texas plates on the car and rather than his usual grunge rock, Jackson blasted some country music. They cruised to the bitter-sweet twang of Clint Black. He would never admit to it but he was actually enjoying the excuse to blast some good old country-rock for a change. 

They had decided that their best bet for finding Tyrone would be by checking out L. A’s many gentleman's clubs. It was rumored that these "car-choppers" were also into the strip-club business. It made sense. They needed something legit through which they could launder the cash they raked in from the stolen vehicles and vehicle parts. What better business would serve that purpose than the just barely above-the-law sex and sinner industry?

Macy acquired a list of the many gentlemen's clubs in L.A. All of the places where a guy could go to hand money to bare-breasted women, be allowed to empty their pockets to get their cocks teased mercilessly, and then go home alone and masturbate. Jackson had, on occasion, been a patron of these places, but it wasn't really his "cup of tease"... so to speak. If he wanted to see a woman naked, why he needed only to ask. Women were quite willing to remove their clothing for him for free.

The names of the clubs ranged from typical... like "Club Fantasy" and "Skin"... to ridiculously off-the-wall... like "Jumbo's Clown Room", "The Library", and "Fritz That's Too".

Macy did some quick research to eliminate the clubs that the police department was already familiar with. The ones deemed as having "no criminal association". There were also clubs that directly tied in with the police. They were patronized mostly by members of law enforcement and could be eliminated as well.

The remainder of the list was relatively short, considering how many adult clubs were in business in Los Angeles. Strip-clubs had a high frequency for being involved in police investigations, so the department had a good idea which ones were on the "up-and-up".

The ones that were still under suspicion or had somehow managed to stay off the radar completely were the ones they needed to investigate. It narrowed it down.

Starting small and working up to the bigger, more popular places was the route they decided on. These people weren't going to be the type to flaunt themselves or bring unnecessary amounts of attention to their establishments.

The first club Jackson and Macy walked into was very small. It was strictly topless with a full bar. There were very few girls working and even fewer patrons. Jackson and Macy walked in and took a seat near the stage. A melancholy, plump-ish "girl" (she looked like she was in her 30s or possibly 40s) gyrated unenthusiastically to music that was way too loud. It sounded distorted. It was extremely dark inside the windowless building and you couldn't see much except whatever glowed in the black lights or whatever the constantly moving and twinkling stage lights picked up.

A waitress came over and smiled at them, her teeth glowing eerily. "What can I getcha?" she asked with her gaze lingering on Jackson a bit longer than necessary.

"We'd like to have a word with the manager of this establishment... or whoever's in charge at the moment." Jackson grinned at her and gave her a wink. He spoke with his imitation southern drawl. "You can bring me a beer though, after you relay the message, and my girl here? She'll have a glass of Shiraz."

"You got it, cowboy. I'll tell the boss he's got company and then be right back with your drinks." She turned and headed toward a door in the back of the room. He watched her knock and then go in for a minute. She re-emerged and gave Jackson a "thumbs-up" before making her way to the bar.

A chubby, older man came out of the same door a moment later. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on Jackson and Macy. Smiling brightly, he hurried over, probably hoping they were going to be big spenders. When he reached the table he shook Jackson's hand enthusiastically while staring at Macy with his face barely able to contain his excitement. Having such high-class patrons in his club was apparently not a common occurrence. Macy smiled alluringly as she offered him her hand to kiss.

"I'm the manager here. Jay Orkut. Mighty pleased to meet you both. Can I help you with something? I am at your service," he said as he very happily kissed Macy's extended hand.

"Nice ta meetcha, Mr. Orkut," Jackson said, standing up and trying to be heard above the music. "Is there somewhere we might have a word with you? Someplace a bit quieter?"

Mr. Orkut nodded his agreement and gestured toward his office. "Of course, follow me!" he yelled over the music. Then he turned and headed back the way he had come. Jackson followed and Macy stood up and trotted after them.

Upon entering the office and closing the door, they were relieved to find that the music had been muffled to a tolerable level. Jackson and Macy sat down on the side of the desk opposite the chubby manager in two raggedy looking chairs. Macy looked around wide-eyed, taking in the endless photos of dancers that wall-papered all four walls. There must have been thousands who had graced the small club's stage throughout the years. It looked like photos had just continued being tacked up, over-lapping and sometimes completely covering up the ones beneath. Jackson briefly wondered how many layers deep they were.

"Now what can I help you two nice looking folks with?" Mr. Orkut asked with an eager face. "Tell me, please, oh please, that this beautiful young lady would like to have a job here! She'd be the revival of this place!"

Macy stared at him for a moment. A smile spread itself across her face slowly. "Why you sweet lil man!" she purred. "I should kiss you for that. How sweet, but no, baby-cakes. I don't need a job. We just wanted to ask about... see, we're from out of town and well... we require some special services that aren't advertised. That is if you provide them."

The round little man stared at her puzzled at first, then his expression changed to an all-knowing look that obviously meant he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. Jackson looked at his sly expression and knew that the only illegal activities happening there were the ones the girls were involved in when the money was right.

He stood up and didn't give the guy a chance to completely form the image in his perverted mind. He tipped his hat and grabbed Macy by the arm, gently pulling her from the rickety chair. He headed for the door. "Mr. Orkut, I just realized we are in the wrong place. I apologize for disturbin' ya. Best o' luck with your establishment." He and Macy left so quickly that the surprised and disappointed man had no chance to reply. Jackson noticed the waitress making her way toward them with the drinks on her tray and when she reached them, he placed a $20 next to the drinks and tipped his hat to her, politely. "Sorry, little lady, but we've got some pressing matters to attend to. That should cover those drinks. You keep the change and have a pleasant evening, ya hear?"

Her disappointment was obvious as well, but she gave him a polite smile and thanked him for the tip. Jackson also placed a $20 on the stage. Then they headed quickly out the door.

Macy was surprisingly quiet when they worked, speaking only when it was appropriate for her to do so. When they asked questions, Jackson was usually quick to know if they were going to get what they needed. If they weren't, he wasted no time exiting the scene. The less people saw of them, especially those who would be of no use to them, the better. The chubby Mr. Orkut had no ties to the people they were looking for.

"Well? What's next, little lady?" he asked when they were both back in the car.

......

As the evening wore on they went in and came right back out of club after club. A few were even crumbier than the first one. It was beginning to seem like they were not going to get anywhere when, at a little after midnight, they entered a medium-sized place called Chevy's Body Shop.

The bouncer at the door collected $10 from Jackson but informed Macy that ladies were not required to pay the cover. She smiled at him brightly and gave him a wink. "Why thank ya sugar!" she purred and then followed Jackson to a nearby booth. It had high walls and an intimate feel. When Jackson slid in, he realized and was relieved that he could hear himself think. The music was loud, but not so that it threatened to cause permanent hearing loss and the sound system seemed to be of decent quality. There were two stages upon which a Latin looking girl and an Asian girl were moving seductively to a song that was talking about some kind of "rum". Jackson wasn't familiar with rap, pop, or dance music. He was a rock-n-roll guy and he liked music with more depth than the "sex and candy" tunes that were frequently heard at strip-clubs. 

Macy however, squeaked a tiny squeak of delight and chirped, "I love this song!" 

Jackson gave her a sideways look. He was completely unaware of his eyebrow having disappeared up under his hat when she put her arms over her head and gyrated her body back and forth quite adorably as she mouthed the words with the music. "151 rum, pineapple juice... make baby girl..." Jackson stopped her abruptly, grabbing her wrist. He was appalled when he realized his jeans had suddenly become much tighter in the crotch as he'd watched her clearly enjoying the obscenity of the lyrics.

"Cut that out!" he growled at her. He wasn't even sure why he was annoyed. What was wrong with her becoming comfortable in the role she was playing? He became exasperated with his own spinning thoughts and released her wrist as though it had burned him. Macy stared at him. Her blue eyes were wide and innocent. All signs of enjoyment of the music had vanished.

"Why Jackson, you truly need to lighten up, darling." Macy leaned toward him and the last of her words were breathed into his ear, tickling him. Her voice now somehow contained the ability to send chills down his body. He shifted away from her with his agitation growing as he felt his jeans getting even tighter between the legs.

"Let's just do our jobs. Alright?" he asked, his voice a semi-threatening, borderline growl. "Excuse, me, miss!" He turned and shot his hand out to stop a cute little dark-haired girl who was about to pass by. "Would you be so kind as to send a waitress on over here?" Jackson gave her a lopsided grin and a wink as he held out a $5 bill. She took it, smiled, and nodded before cat walking away toward the bar.

A minute or two later a pretty red-headed girl appeared with her tray supported by her hip as she stood, head cocked to one side in a friendly manner. "Sorry to keep you folks waiting. We're a little understaffed tonight. Can I getcha some drinks?" She gave Macy a lingering look and her smile reached her eyes. Warmth emanated from her like sun-rays. "Wow, miss! You are really hot! I-I think I may be in love!" This time Jackson was aware of his eyebrow disappearing up under his hat and the other one soon joined it. He grinned at Macy triumphantly, happily awaiting her reply.

"Why, thank you, little lady." Macy gave the girl a bright smile and tipped her hat. "You sure are a pretty thing yourself." The red-head smiled shyly and she looked away. When her green eyes looked back up at Macy, desire shone in them like the North Star. Suddenly she straightened and seemed to remember that Jackson was sitting there. Her expression changed to embarrassment when he chuckled, amused by the exchange.

"Well, what shall it be then?" she asked him. She seemed to have been brought back to reality by the fact that Macy was there with a man who might be her boyfriend, or even her husband. She avoided looking directly at him but continued stealing glances at Macy. She was apparently smitten.

Jackson ordered himself a beer and Macy her glass of wine. Maybe they would be there long enough to actually drink their drinks this time. He asked the smitten waitress if she would kindly ask the person in charge to come out and have a word with them. He indicated that it was important and she agreed to let her boss know that there were people who needed to speak to him. She left with another quick glance over her shoulder at Macy who winked at her and smiled.

"Looks like you've got a fan there, Miz Grey," Jackson said into her ear, his breath making the soft hair of the dark wig ruffle. She looked at him with mischief in her eyes.

"Maybe we should stay a little longer this time, Mr. Wolfe," she purred back at him, batting her eyes. "Could turn out to be a fun night!"

(A.N: Okay, don't forget to vote, my lovers! I appreciate all of you giving this story your time and attention. I hope you all like it and I welcome comments and feedback, too. I know this chapter wasn't exactly action packed, but the next one will get exciting, so just stay with me.)