My heart raced, knowing that everything he’d just told me was probably true. At the same time, there had to be a reason that Santou wanted Galinov all for himself. He’d obviously shown up tonight to push me out of the way. Well, I wasn’t going to roll over so that whatever agency he was working for could grab all the glory. Galinov was mine; I intended to keep it that way.
“If you’re not worried about dealing with Galinov, why should I be? Because I’m a woman?”
Santou polished off his drink and looked me square in the eye. “Damn straight.”
I glared at him and intuitively knew that Santou had sunk deep inside a bottle from which he was trying to escape. Rather than respond, I drifted into my own sanctuary filled with the blues as Gena began to sing like Tina Turner, “nice and rough.” The song roused my spirits. Like Tina, I might be bruised, but I damn well wasn’t broken. I finished my drink and stood up.
There was no need to look back; the sexual bond between us was as highly charged as ever. I instinctively felt Santou’s heat following closely behind. The pouring rain sizzled off my skin as I made my way down the street and opened the door to my loft. Santou walked in without any question, having finally arrived home. Not a word was said as I turned and Jake slowly lifted my dress above my legs, my thighs, my hips. I held up my arms and the flimsy material grew wings and flew into the sky. Two quick movements later, my bra and panties were off.
“I want to taste you, smell you,” Santou roughly whispered in my ear, and proceeded to do exactly that.
A moan slipped from my lips as Santou satiated every square inch of my body. Then I made him do it all over again, just to make sure he’d permanently forget about long-legged blonds. This time I fell over the edge into uncharted territory, traveling deeper within myself than I ever had before. And there I discovered my love for Santou was never-ending. My need for the man was encoded in my DNA.
Jake’s fingers traced the outline of my face before blazing over my stomach and down along my hips. I studied his features, bathed in a ray of moonlight. As much as I loved Santou, I needed at least one question answered before I could lay the matter to rest.
“Why did you leave the NOPD?” I asked, hoping it wouldn’t destroy the magic bubble that encased us.
Santou let loose a sigh and reached for his pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. Removing one, he lit up. Jake didn’t speak until its ember burned as red-hot as my body had only a few minutes earlier.
“Remember when Terri appeared on your doorstep in Miami with a pair of eyes that looked like two black holes?”
“Yes. An old boyfriend, Bruno, had beaten him up.” It happened not long after Santou and I had ended our own relationship.
“Well, Terri reported the incident to me first, before hightailing it out of town.”
Funny that Terri had never mentioned that. I wondered what else he’d not told me about.
“Did his case have something to do with why you left the force?”
“My decision was due to a lot of things, Rachel. Terri was just the trigger.”
The bed creaked its own night song as Santou turned, bringing his face close to mine, his words burrowing deep inside me.
“Our breakup was the main catalyst. The reality of it hit me worse than I could have imagined.”
My heart began to pound so hard that I felt sure the room was shaking. “Tell me what happened.”
“I screwed up, Rachel. Plain and simple. I let my anger get the better of me in the wrong situation.” Jake emitted a mirthless laugh. “I went to the Whipping Post looking for Bruno, and collided with my past.”
I held my breath, afraid I’d otherwise explode with a million questions. There was no sense bombarding him; Santou would reveal only as much as he wanted me to know.
“I had a few drinks while I waited for Bruno, figuring he’d eventually show. It wasn’t until I came face to face with the guy that I remembered who he was. When I found out, I began to drink some more. The weasel used to be my drug lifeline.” Jake grimaced at the words. “Bruno remembered me, too. After I dropped out of the scene, he sniffed around and soon learned I’d been working undercover for DEA. He also knew I’d been kicked out of the agency for liking my coke too much.”
“You’re a different person now,” I quietly told Jake, hoping it was true.
A bitter smile tugged at Santou’s lips. “Well, it gave Bruno a real good laugh. I kept knocking back Scotches while he was yucking it up, until I’d had enough. Then I began smashing the bastard’s head into the floor. Guess who was up on charges after that?” He placed a finger to his head and pulled the trigger.
“Were you kicked out?” I asked, the words sticking in my throat.
Santou’s fingers idly traced the tops of my breasts, riding the rim of the sheets, his face a wistful ache. “I received two weeks’ suspension without pay. But you know what? It turned out to be the best thing that ever could have happened. It gave me the time that I needed to think. Bumping into Bruno again was like seeing a ghost of myself—one that I’d tried hard to forget. But there are some things you can never escape.”
His gaze drifted out the window, his profile as still as a death mask. I was tempted to lean over and kiss all the pain away, but whatever Jake had to say needed to be done without interruption.
“What scared me was that I could feel how easy it would be to get caught up in that world again—where nothing but nose candy matters.” He turned and looked at me fiercely. “I snorted a good chunk of my life away, Rachel. It almost happened again when I lost you. Instead, I quit the force, got some help, and cleaned up my act. The upshot is that I’ve recently been given a second chance.”
“You’ve gone back to work for the NOPD?”
Santou pushed aside a strand of hair on my forehead and replaced it with a kiss. “No. I’m doing something else.”
Then he finally whispered what I’d been longing to hear him say.
“And even better, now you’re back in my life. Have I told you how much you take my breath away?”
The words softly stroked my soul, silky as the tip of a feather.
Santou took it a step further than I had even dared hope.
“I was wrong back in Miami, chère. We belong together. Please trust me, just this once. I promise to explain everything as soon as I can.”
That was enough to put my remaining questions on hold for now. I turned and wrapped myself around the man who made my heart beat faster than anyone else in this world. The blues were supplanted by gospel as “Amazing Grace” drifted through my mind. “I once was lost but now am found” took the place of counting sheep as I laid my head on Santou’s shoulder and fell asleep. I was finally at peace, having been reunited with my soul mate.
Nineteen
When I awoke, Santou was gone. I wondered if it might have all been a dream, until I nestled my head on the spare pillow and was embraced by his lingering scent. That was quickly replaced as Dog bounded onto the bed and covered my face in a shower of licks. Terri must have dropped the pooch off early this morning without making a sound. I removed the note attached to Dog’s collar, and read that Terri and Vincent would be out of town for the next few days.
“Looks like you’ll be hitting the road with me for a while,” I informed the pup.
I bathed and dressed, my body still tingling. It was only as I got breakfast for Dog that I rocketed back down to earth. Though I loved Santou, it was essential I discover Mavis’s information before he did. And there was one other place I could think of to try. Dog took a seat beside me in the Excursion, and we headed for Tatyana’s house.
The sky was as gray as cold, discarded cigarette ashes, the sun sulking behind a cloud. A sprinkling of rain splattered my windshield.
Swish, swish. Swish swish.
Dog’s head moved back and forth to the wipers’ beat, as if watching a tennis match. As we parked in front of the run-down house the sky rumbled a loud warning, sending Dog into the shivers. It was clear t
he pooch didn’t want to be left alone.
“All right, come on. Just behave yourself.”
We walked up to the porch, where the screen door squeaked like a frightened mouse. I knocked on the thin wooden door behind it. Tatyana cracked the entrance open only the slightest bit and cautiously peeked out. Freshly blue bruises marred her milky white skin.
“It’s Rachel Porter. We met the other day. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Tatyana refused to look at me and vehemently shook her head. “I told you before. I have nothing to say.”
“Tatyana, if someone is hurting you, I can make that stop.”
She raised her eyes to meet mine. “You think so? And just who are you? No one! My life is what it is. Now please go away.”
I was about to concede defeat when Tatyana’s little girl poked her head out and spotted Dog, her eyes widening in delight.
“Oh Mama! A puppy! Please let it in!” She clapped her hands and looked beseechingly at her mother.
“The puppy would love to play with your daughter,” I shamelessly added, taking full advantage of the situation.
“Please Mama! Please! I promise to be good!” the child pleaded.
“All right. All right, moya malenkaya. But only for a minute,” Tatyana grudgingly relented.
She opened the door and the pooch ran inside. I quickly followed. Gone were the high heels, midriff top, and tights. Tatyana wore sweatpants and a baggy shirt, without a touch of makeup.
“Galya, why don’t you play with the doggy in your room, while I talk with this lady in the kitchen?”
The girl giggled as Dog jumped up and licked her face. “Come puppy! This way!”
I followed Tatyana into a dingy kitchen, where she took a seat at a small wooden table. I pulled out a wobbly chair and sat across from the woman, whose sorrowful eyes accused me of having tricked her.
“Did Sergei do that to you?” I quietly asked.
Tatyana remained stubbornly silent. I had little choice but to take a gamble. We were both women living some kind of lie. I would trust her with my life; in return, I hoped she’d tell me the truth.
“I’m going to share something with you that can’t leave this room. I’m not really a friend of Sergei’s, but a federal agent with the U.S. government. I know Galinov’s involved in many illegal activities. I need you to tell me what’s going on at the Velvet Kitty.”
“I’m afraid.” Tatyana’s voice trembled. “Too many people can get hurt.”
“One woman is already dead. Galinov has to be stopped. I promise he will never learn that we’ve spoken,” I pressed.
Galya ran into the room before her mother could respond, and timidly approached me.
“So sorry. But what’s your little dog’s name?” she shyly inquired.
I looked into the child’s eyes and wondered how it was that so many trusting women grew up to be hurt.
“She doesn’t have a name yet. Would you like to give her one?”
Galya nodded. “I’d call her Zouzou.”
“Then Zouzou it is,” I agreed.
“But why didn’t you name your doggy?” Galya curiously questioned.
The pooch gleefully jumped into the little girl’s arms, and Galya buried her face in its fur.
The answer became immediately apparent.
“Because Zouzou has been waiting for you. She’s your dog now,” I softly told the child.
Galya looked at me in wonder, not quite believing what she’d just heard. Her arms cuddled the dog, who contentedly lay as if in a cradle, and I knew I’d made the right decision.
She turned to her mother, her eyes brimming with hopeful tears. “Oh, Mama! Please, may I keep her?”
Tatyana looked at me, then at her daughter, and silently nodded. “Now go play.”
We both watched as Galya and the dog ran out of the room. A quiet moment passed.
“Working at the Velvet Kitty. Is that the kind of future you want for your daughter?”
The question effectively stripped Tatyana of her last defense. She gazed at me with eyes as old as Methuselah, and I knew she’d experienced things of which I’d never dreamed.
“I was a stupid girl from a village in the Ukraine where there is no work. Just like all the others, I answered an ad for single, pretty women. It promised us jobs abroad as waitresses, hostesses, and models. Housing would be supplied and wages would be enough for me to send money back to my mother. Sergei also told me that I’d have a chance to meet foreign men. That was the one thing he didn’t lie about.”
“Then you already knew Sergei?” I asked in surprise.
“Yes. Back in Russia he was a shkafy.” Tatyana searched for the words. “A big shot. He was my contact when I landed in America.”
She looked down at the cracked linoleum floor and wiped away her tears.
“What happened once you arrived here?” I felt certain I knew, but I needed to hear Tatyana say the words.
“Sergei said I’d have to dance at the Velvet Kitty and work as a prostitute. Then he took my passport away. Still, I refused to do what he wanted. That’s when he threatened to have all of my family killed.”
“And you believed him?”
“Of course. He is part of the organizatsiya: the Mafia. They do what they want.” She plucked a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. “He told me, I own you now, and that I’d have to work until I earned my way out. Sergei said if I spoke to the police I’d be deported because I don’t have papers. Then he’d find me again and bring me back.”
I felt sick to my stomach. “And it’s the same with all the other women at the club?”
Tatyana sadly nodded.
By now a lump the size of a golf ball had formed in my throat. “How many others are there?”
“Sergei keeps a stable of twenty girls. We work out of cubicles in the back of the club. Each of us services around fifteen men a day.” Tatyana’s voice broke. “How can I ever hold my head up again when I feel so dirty?”
“Have any of you tried contacting the police?” I questioned, holding back my rising anger.
“Yes. A few girls. But they wound up dead. So now we are all afraid to talk. Besides, we are easily replaced and Sergei says the local police have been paid off.”
“What about the man I saw you with at Sergei’s house? Renny Folse? What did he want?” My heart pounded so hard, it threatened to burst through my chest.
“He also had many questions. He asked how often Sergei brings in new girls and who else buys us.”
That hit me like a bucket of ice water. “You mean Sergei sells you to other clubs?”
“Yes. That’s what Renny Folse came to see Sergei about. He wants to buy women for his own club. He offered to pay five hundred dollars for each girl, but Sergei refuses to take less than two thousand.”
Though I’d heard the words clearly, I still had a hard time believing them. Apparently, Tatyana felt the same way.
“Sometimes I think this is all a horrible nightmare and I must try very hard to wake myself. How is it possible that women can be bought and sold?”
I wondered the same thing.
“The girls live worse than dogs. They sleep four to a bed in the club’s basement.”
“Then why aren’t you there with them?” I asked skeptically. “What is it that makes you so special?”
Tatyana leveled her eyes on mine and let the last bombshell drop. “Galya is Sergei’s child. That is why I get special treatment.”
If this was how the Russian Elvis treated his child and her mother, what would be in store for me should my charade be discovered?
“I promise that Sergei will end up in prison for this,” I declared passionately.
A bittersweet smile tugged at Tatyana’s lips. “Nothing will ever happen to Sergei. He has too much money, too much power. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
She was right. Anything I said was worthless until I could prove it.
I said good-bye and walked outside,
feeling shaken. I’d once again strayed into territory that scraped at my soul—the netherworld of disposable women. Sergei had found the perfect enterprise to run alongside his caviar trade. Each business paid no taxes and had amazingly low overhead. The major difference was that each tin of caviar can be sold only once. But women provide a constant money machine. Galinov was running a factory fueled by slave labor.
I headed toward my Excursion, pondering what to do next, when an arm appeared out of nowhere and wrapped itself around my neck. A gun bit at my flesh as its barrel was rammed into my ear, accompanied by a voice as cold as a serrated blade.
“I’m only going to say this once, so you damn well better listen. People who dig too deep in the delta tend to disappear. You’re messing with our case, bitch. Now get the hell out of here!”
The ground came rushing up to meet me as I was jerked off my feet like a puppet and roughly slammed against the asphalt. I tried to regain my breath, but searing pain ricocheted throughout my body. Then a car screeched to a halt near where I lay. Shoes with metal tips jumped into the vehicle, which quickly spun out, kicking up a spray of gravel. I shielded my eyes against the tiny pebbles, uncovering them in time to see a standard-issue black sedan speeding down the street. What I’d begun to suspect had just been confirmed: another government agency wanted me out of the way. If the bastards thought I was going to crumble, they’d quickly learn I was harder to get rid of than overdue bills.
I stood up on shaky legs, energized by anger and fear, wondering if Santou knew what had just taken place. Even worse, had he been inside the car viewing the action? He’d once likened me to a wolverine who, having hold of something, refuses to let go. Well, guess what? I was more determined than ever to prove it.
I brushed myself off and climbed into my Excursion as the cell phone began to ring.
Black Delta Night Page 15