Complete Mia Kazmaroff

by Kiernan-Susan Lewis

  The problem, of course, was that if Bryant was working. He wasn’t with Mia.

  And if he wasn’t with Mia, where the hell was she?

  “I’m trying to find Mia Kazmaroff.”

  A long pause. “Who is this?”

  “I’m her…partner, Jack Burton.”

  “I remember! I took care of you last week after your house burned down.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Is Mia missing?

  “I’m not sure. I thought she might be with you. She said she was spending the night with a friend.” Jack’s mind began to race. Mia had no sleep-over friends that he knew of. What he also knew was that she was angry and frustrated because it looked like every lead they had was gone.

  Was she out trying to get picked up? Jack ran a hand across his face in agitation.

  “Well, not this friend,” Bryant said ruefully. “Last time I talked to Mia she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

  “Right. Because of the car thing.”

  “Yeah, dude, do you know what that’s all about? I go to land one on her and she freaks out and runs away.”

  “So,” Jack said slowly, “you’re saying there’s no reason why Mia might’ve gotten the idea that you or your vehicle was involved in something…illegal?” Jack caught the pause and he felt his pulse quicken. Mia had been right. There was something here.

  “Look, man…” Bryant’s voice came down a notch as if he were afraid he might be overheard. “I don’t know what she thought she knew or felt about the car and it’s damn freaky that she did but the fact is…and I know you’re going to think this is bizarre…”

  “Just tell me.”

  “I have a brother. A twin. You’re not with the police, are you? I don’t want to get him into any trouble.”

  “I am not.”

  “And I’m pretty sure I’d lose my job here if anyone ever found out but some of the shit my brother’s involved with, well, sometimes I try to…how can I put this?…mitigate the damages.”

  “Explain please.”

  “It’s really sick stuff and I’m not proud of any of it. Or the fact that I can’t seem to stop protecting him…”

  “What kind of sick stuff?”

  “Bottom line, my brother is a panderer.”

  “A pimp.”

  A long sigh on the other end of the line. “Yeah. And sometimes he drops his…girls off at the ER when they need medical attention and I help them come and go without involving him.”

  “You mean without your brother risking being apprehended. Has he ever used your vehicle for transporting these women?”

  A pause. “He might have. I’ve loaned it to him from time to time.”

  “And where might I find your brother tonight?” This time when Bryant paused, Jack quickly filled the gap. “Before I call your supervisor,” he said.

  “God, I’m going to kill him,” Bryant muttered. “He’s got a couple of places but his main place is off I-Twenty West. On Cascade Avenue.”

  “Southwest Atlanta?” Jack said, feeling for his car keys and heading for the door. “Unusual for a white boy to be living in that neighborhood.”

  “A lot of things about Jamie are unusual, trust me.”

  *****

  Mia didn’t have to touch his outstretched hand to know it wasn’t Ben. The hair coloring was slightly different. The scar over Ben’s right eyebrow was missing. She let him pull her into the van, feeling the lies and the deceit, the evil and the depravity, crawl up her arm like a spreading infection. She knew she had to do this. It was why she came. This man—whoever he was—was bad. Bone-bad.

  “Who do we have here?” he said, cheerfully, his smile showing a row of perfect teeth. The minute she touched his hand, she knew he was blood-related to Ben. There was no other answer for how much they looked alike. She settled herself in the backseat and watched as Orlinda slid the door shut.

  To Mia, it felt like a coffin lid shutting.

  She slowed her breathing. You are not a victim. You are here to find Maria and to help these girls. You are armed. The vibrations off the van were spiraling around her. She tried not to touch anything but was nonetheless being overwhelmed—suffocated—with the feelings of terror and helplessness in the vehicle.

  And death.

  People had died in this van. More than one. Recently.

  Mia’s stomach buckled and she felt the urge to press her elbows into her sides as if to make herself as small as possible. A thin layer of sweat formed on her forehead.

  “Orlinda said you might be able to give me a place to stay for the night,” she managed to say. Thank God every involuntary reaction she was showing was appropriate for who she was pretending to be.

  “Her ol’ man messing with her,” Orlinda said to the man. “Now she leaving his ass for good.”

  “Wise move,” the man said, settling into the driver’s seat. “I’m Jamie, by the way.”

  Lorna’s pimp!

  “Hi, Jamie,” she said meekly. “I’m Leanne. Thank you for this.”

  “Oh, no problem, Leanne,” he said jovially as he pulled out of the side street. “Orlinda and I are just glad to help. It’s cold out there tonight.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I told her you’d make her some waffles, Jamie,” Orlinda said from the front passenger seat.

  “You can count on it,” Jamie said.

  Mia felt as if a thousand ants were crawling up her arms and legs. The evil manifested in the van was building up around her the longer she sat in it. She restrained herself from reaching for the window but then saw it didn’t open from the back seat.

  The house Jamie drove them to wasn’t a mile away. Mia looked through the front windshield in order to be able to give directions to the police as soon as she found Lorna—and whoever else was at Jamie’s house. model cars and pick-up trucks lined both sides of the street.

  “We’re going in the back way,” Jamie said casually. “Sometimes we have a lot of visitors but you don’t have to see all that.”

  Mia caught a glimpse of two men hopping into a pick-up truck. Its rear lights came on as they backed out of their parking slot.

  Yeah, I’ll just bet you don’t want me to see all that.

  Not yet anyway.

  Jamie parked further up the street and then locked the van while Orlinda led the way down a narrow brick walkway between two houses. It was so dark, Mia wasn’t sure how the girl wasn’t running into things.

  “Hold on to me,” Orlinda said. “The sidewalk’s kinda cracked here.”

  Mia took Orlinda’s elbow but she couldn’t get a read on her. It felt…muffled.

  Was she on drugs?

  Jamie hurried in front of them and opened the side door. “Stay on the first floor,” he said in a low voice to Orlinda. When Mia passed he said to her: “I’ll get some food. Be back soon.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Mia said as she moved into the house. The minute she stepped into the main living space of the darkened house, Mia put her hand out to touch the walls.

  “You okay, Leanne?” Orlinda asked. “Feelin’ dizzy, like?”

  The house was a bigger version of the van. Instantly, Mia’s breathing became labored as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the house.

  Get it together! Push through it!

  She was new at controlling her abilities and not always successful. She put a picture of Lorna firmly in her head and followed Orlinda to a long dark couch. Once she reached it, she saw there were two women lying on it.

  “They sleepin’,” Orlinda said. “Sit you in the big chair there. That where Jamie like to sit. It’s our guest of honor chair.”

  “Orlinda, do you know anybody by the name of Lorna?”

  Orlinda’s eyes flew open wide. “Oh, shit! You a cop? Oh, shit! Jamie gonna kill me!”

  The two women on the couch began to stir as Orlinda’s voice rose in the still house.

  “I am not a cop.” Mia could see that Orlinda was already backing away from
her. She didn’t know how long Jamie would be gone so she turned to the women on the sofa who were slowly beginning to sit up. They were both Hispanic. She knelt by the couch and put her hand in her jacket and pulled out the photo of José. She held it out to them.

  “Hola,” she said, “Do either of you know this man?”

  They blinked at her dumbly, but Mia was prepared for this.

  “Le conoce usted?” she said, hoping her five minutes on the Internet had given her the right phrase to use.

  “Who are you?” Orlinda said, slumping down on the couch next to the two women.

  “I am looking for a couple of friends of mine,” Mia said firmly. “Is there a woman here by the name of Maria?”

  “I dunno,” Orlinda said, chewing on her fingernails now.

  “You don’t know? Don’t you all live together?”

  “Maria,” one of the women on the couch said, slowly. “Esta buscando Maria?”

  “Okay, I don’t know what you just said,” Mia said, getting excited. “But yes…si. Do you know…usted…Maria? She looks like this guy, maybe? Is his Hermana?”

  The woman closed her eyes and Mia felt her hopes plunge. She turned to Orlinda. “How many people in this house right now not counting the johns?”

  “Jamie gonna kill me for bringing you here,” Orlinda said, chewing more vigorously on her fingernails.

  “How many women in this house?” Mia asked, standing up. She watched Orlinda cower and she hated doing it. “Answer me, Orlinda.”

  “They’s four upstairs,” Orlinda said. Her eyes moved to the front window. Even covered by curtains, a flash of headlights showed through.

  Was Jamie back already?

  “Show me.”

  16

  “Wake up, you stupid bitch,” the man snarled at her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. When he slapped her, Maria felt the world briefly spark back into focus. She was laying on her back on the bed and he was straddling her, fully clothed. She closed her eyes again. Please let me go back…go back…

  The slap came again. Harder this time. “I ain’t screwing no damn corpse. Now wake the fuck up!”

  Maria heard the door burst open and the fear returned when she did. If Senor Jamie saw her…if he thought she was trying to get out of doing her job…She fluttered her eyes open and tried to focus on the man on top of her. She was just so tired. If she could smile, maybe Senor would see she was doing her job. Maybe he wouldn’t punish her.

  “Get off her, asshole.”

  The voice was a woman’s. Maria widened her eyes but the drug was too good. It had her too tight…

  “Is it worth a bullet in the leg?” the voice continued. “I’m not asking twice.”

  Maria felt the weight lift off her as the man got to his feet by the bed. With the heaviness gone from her chest, she found she could think a little better…A woman stood in the doorway…pointing a gun at her john.

  “Your wallet,” the woman said.

  “I’ll kill Danvers for this,” the John snarled, “getting robbed by his whores…and then he’ll kill you.”

  “Keep your money,” she said. “Leave your drivers license. It’s easier than my having to describe you to the cops. Put it on the table.”

  Maria understood just enough of what the woman said. She was not working for Senor Jamie. She struggled to sit up and saw that the woman in the doorway with the gun took a step into the hall to let the man pass. When Maria heard his steps—and his oaths—fade as he ran down the stairs, the woman turned to her.

  “Maria?” she said, looking around the room. “Este you Maria?”

  The woman knelt by the bed. She looked like an angel. Her face was unbruised and her hair was clean and smelled like lilacs. But it was her eyes that held Maria. They were clear and honest. And looking right at her.

  “Senorita,” the angel said kindly. “Are you a prisoner here?”

  Before she could fully understand what the angel said, the devil’s lapdog came into the room. Maria pulled away to cower against the wall. The angel turned to the intruder.

  “Orlinda,” she said, “I can’t get reception on my cellphone.”

  The lapdog was watching Maria, her eyes full of malice and intent.

  “Is there a landline in the house?” the angel asked as she stood up. Maria saw she held the gun loose by her side. She wanted to warn her—the little dog will bite! Be wary of her! She watched the eyes of the perro faldero narrow as she, too, saw the gun no longer pointed at anyone.

  “I don’t know what that is,” the minion said sullenly.

  The angel looked around the room and went to the dresser. She jerked open the drawer and pulled out a long nightgown. She threw it on the floor and turned to the dog again.

  “Where are her clothes?”

  “How should I know?”

  The angel went to the lapdog and peered into her face. “You’re about her size. How ‘bout if you strip and give her yours?”

  “My…my clothes? No! She…” The lapdog turned to look at Maria. “Where your clothes, stupid?” she asked, her face contorted—as usual—in anger and fear.

  Maria swung her legs off the bed and reached under the filthy covers for her underwear and a tee-shirt. She pulled her skirt from under the bed. As she dressed, her hands feeling like lead-weights, the angel motioned the lapdog from the room.

  “Go get the others,” she said.

  “They workin’!”

  “Get them,” the woman said firmly. “Bring them to the living room.”

  The lap dog stood for a moment and then, after a glance at the woman’s gun, turned and left the room.

  Maria sat on the edge of the bed. Her hands trembled on her knees.

  The angel turned back to her. “The others said you were called Maria,” she said.

  “I am Maria.”

  “You speak English.”

  “A little much.”

  “Are you a prisoner here?”

  “I…” Maria felt the fear overwhelm her at how close she came to speaking the truth. Was it a trick? Was this Senor’s trick? She licked her lips and stared into the face of the angel. “Help me,” she whispered.

  “I need to get to a phone,” the angel said, holding out a hand to her. “Come with me, Maria. You’re safe now.”

  Maria knew she was not safe. And the angel was not safe. Even with her gun. But she couldn’t help standing up and taking her hand. It was cool and firm to the touch and felt like the strength of an army in her fingertips. The angel pulled her gently across the room and smiled.

  “You’re safe now, Maria,” she said.

  That was the moment she heard the sound of the front door slamming and Maria knew that nobody was safe anymore or ever again.

  *****

  Mia felt the poor girl’s fear and sluggish perceptions when they touched. She knew the slamming door would be followed by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

  “Trust me, Maria,” she said in a low voice. “Do as I tell you. Yes?”

  She watched the girl nod, her mouth open and slack, her eyes dulled. Mia turned to face the open door. She was still not prepared for how much Jamie looked like Ben and when he appeared, for one important second, she relaxed with relief thinking somehow help had arrived.

  “Well, well,” Jamie said, looking first at Mia’s gun and then past her at Maria. “Isn’t this interesting? Maria, come here.”

  “Don’t move, Maria,” Mia said, using her free hand to bar her from passing. Maria stayed where she was.

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” Jamie said, his eyes cold but his lips curled in a smile, “but this isn’t how tonight is going to play out.”

  Was she going to have to shoot him? The vibrations Mia had picked up in the house had served to sufficiently depress her natural energy. Now, when she really needed to be focused and sharp, she felt a weight of sadness crowding her.

  Snap out of it!

  “I’m wearing a GPS device,” she sa
id. “The police are coming any minute. If I were you, I’d high tail it.”

  “Cute. First of all, you’re not wearing a GPS device,” he said, moving into the room. “And second, if you were, it would be useless. This house may look like a dump but all the outer walls are embedded with metal. I assume you already tried to use your cellphone?”

  Mia didn’t answer. It was starting to look like she really was going to have to shoot the bastard. It was a worry that he didn’t look at all unnerved by the fact that she was pointing a gun at him.

  “You can’t get away,” he said, shrugging. “We can stand here all night and sooner or later you’ll make a mistake and I’ll have the gun.”

  “People would notice I’m missing.”

  “Probably, but without a body there’s no murder. And trust me, there would be no body.”

  She noticed a movement behind Jamie.

  “Okay,” he said. “So this is how we’re going to do this. Orlinda here is going to come into the room and take your gun. You’re welcome to shoot her if you think that’s the best way to handle it, but I’ll be right behind her, and trust me, in a physical struggle, I will win. Ready?”

  Mia felt sweat form on her palms. She knew she only had a split second before Orlinda came between her gun and Jamie. She prayed she’d remembered to chamber the round, then pointed the gun at his leg and squeezed the trigger.

  Instantly, she felt Maria jar her gun hand, forcing the gunshot into the dresser where Jamie was standing. Panicked, Mia tried to take a step away from Maria and re-aim, but he was on her before the sound of the blast had faded. With one vice-like hand on her wrist, he wrenched the gun from her and pushed her down onto the bed.

  The fear that had pooled dormant and threatening in the pit of her stomach now exploded into full-blown terror.

  “Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jamie said, standing over her and breathing heavily. “Maria, go downstairs with the others,” he said without taking his eyes off Mia. “Orlinda, get me my rope and my tool kit.”