by Kelly Wood
“What makes you think that?” I asked.
“I don’t know why. I just have the impression that when Anya was giving me the hard sell, it was like she had been on my side before.”
Could it be true? Could Anya have run this call girl service without Peter knowing? It was hard to believe that he was making those huge bonuses without questioning where the money came from. But, if he was in the dark about what was going on, then how did Anya set this whole thing up? Peter would be a fool to trust that much power to an employee, and Peter was no fool.
I thanked Sandy for talking with us. I was sure it was difficult for her to admit to sleeping with men for money. I had a thousand questions I wanted to ask. Like, “Was it like Julia Roberts and Richard Gere? Did anyone take you on a private jet? Did you have regulars? Did you feel the need to shower after each date?” For once, I showed restraint. I said a silent prayer of thanks for never having felt that desperate to resort to selling myself.
“Now we know,” I said. “But, I don’t understand why Anya did it in the first place.”
Ben reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He tossed something across the table to me. I picked it up realizing it was a photograph. The photo showed a young girl with her parents.
“Anya?” I asked.
“Yes.” Ben nodded along. “Are you familiar with Romanian history?”
“A little. But I don’t understand.”
Ben pointed to the photograph in my hands. “There’s your answer. You wanted to know the why.”
“Goodbye, Ben,” I said while standing. He stood along with me, giving me the opportunity I was looking for. I brought my leg up, crushing his manhood with my knee.
“That’s for scaring the crap out of me.” His face turned red as he sank back into the chair, bent at the waist and clutching himself. This time it was Gray’s laughter that echoed as we walked out of the bar.
Chapter Forty-Two
My mind whirled around like a bad roller coaster. There was just too much information flying around to really wrap my head around any of it. I shuffled along the street with Gray beside me. When I was a child having an overload from too much information, my mother would have me lay in my bed. She’d say, “It’s too big for you right now, but we can make it smaller.” I needed it smaller.
I still couldn’t believe I had been right about the prostitution ring. Or rather Peyton. Maybe good ideas could come out of movies and TV shows. The real question was how I was going to find the partner? I had no idea who it could be, but, common sense said he had to be someone in the restaurant. It would be too difficult to partner with someone outside of O’Kelly’s. Anya did take some time off, so who covered for her? Sandy confirmed it wasn’t Peter. He would be the obvious choice, since, as owner, he should know everything that was happening in his place. The more information I got about everything, the more confusing it all became.
“Are you ready yet?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts while we walked.
“Ready for what?”
“Your blow up?”
“My what?!” I stopped walking to stare at him.
“I know you. You have taken in a lot today and are about to explode, so, let’s get it over with.” Gray faced me. He didn’t seem angry, just resigned. “You either hide or explode. You can’t go running, because of your foot, and hide from facing our fight. That only leaves exploding your thoughts and feelings out.”
I geared up for a torrent of words. He was right, I did want a release, but just as quickly, the wind went out of my sails.
“Why do you have to be so perfect all of the time?” I asked. My shoulders sagged in defeat. Gray rubbed my arms in comfort.
“Because God made me that way. Plus, one of us has to keep a cool head.” Gray winked at me and planted a quick kiss on my lips. “Let’s go.”
“There are too many questions still left unanswered. I’ll have to hide later. Or explode, as you say. Since I’m putting both of those off. Where do we go from here?”
“Let’s look at it from another angle. We now know where the money was coming from, right?” We walked casually down the street evaluating the facts.
“Yes, but we don’t know who all of the players are.”
“We know Anya was involved. We know Ben is working for someone. Someone who wants something covered up.”
“That’s still a lot of unknowns. Who’s his client?”
“That’s what I’m saying. Let’s change the angle and look at it from Ben’s point of view. Do you still have a picture of the list of referral clients?” Gray asked.
“Yes, but it’s long. Who would we start with?”
“That’s the easy part. We start with the most high-profile client. And, in Chicago that would be?”
“The mayor.”
“Bingo. Let’s go to his office.”
“How will we get in? I doubt he will see just anyone off the streets.”
“This is the part you may not like. I don’t even like it that much.” Dread filled me. “How do you feel about dressing up as one of the call girls?”
“Are you crazy?”
“Yes. For you.” His grin melted my heart.
“I can’t do this alone.”
“I’ll be there, too. Don’t worry. But, we have to hurry.” I checked my watch. Even though I couldn’t do any physical activity, I liked to wear my fitness tracker. Even with an injured foot, we’d walked over three miles today.
“It’s already two.”
I mentally prepared myself for my role as I exited the cab and headed into City Hall. I stood up straighter, keeping a small smile on my lips. I channeled Julia Roberts. Beautiful. Understated. Elegant. The ‘Julia’ from the end of Pretty Woman, not the loud-mouthed hooker from the beginning of the movie. Gray was already in the building. I didn’t know what he would be doing or where he would be. He had changed into a suit as I changed into a form-fitting cocktail dress. I ditched the wrap on my foot. I could only squeeze my feet into a pair of flats, but I didn’t think the shoes deterred from the overall look.
I found the mayor’s office after a few wrong turns. His secretary sat at her desk, cat-eye glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She resembled a ballbusting librarian, but not the hot kind in movies. More the kind to actually do some ballbusting with one sneer.
“Good afternoon. I’d like to see Mayor Coleman.” I pasted a sweet smile on my face, hoping to convince her of my innocent motives. I glanced around me, but the waiting area in his office was empty.
“He’s not in, and you do not have an appointment,” she said, barely looking up from her computer. Her nameplate read “Ida Balsmith.” Fitting. Every last pearl button was done up on her shirt, her hair in a perfect bun, and her glasses had a beaded chain looped around her neck. I bet she liked smacking the knuckles of small children with rulers for fun. This was exactly the type of person I loved to antagonize. Bring it on, Ida.
“How do you know I don’t have an appointment?” I smiled bigger and fluttered my eyelashes.
“You may go now. I don’t have time for the likes of you, and neither does the mayor.” She looked me up and down. I refrained from crossing my arms over her visual assault.
“But, Ida . . . what if you are wrong and I really do have an appointment?” I perched myself on the edge of her desk invading her space. I leaned over, looking her in the eye.
“I know you don’t have an appointment because you are a woman. He does not have an appointment set up with any women for today. Now shoo,” she said, as she swatted me away from her. I stayed on my perch, holding my ground. I’d hoped invading her area would throw her off her game and it was working. I wasn’t about to lose my advantage.
“Maybe I have a man’s name. My parents really wanted a boy.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it.” Ida eyed me up and down again with disgust. She thought I was a whore! I mentally high fived myself.
“If he isn’t here, how can he have appointments set up?
” I asked.
The door opened from the hallway, distracting both of us before she could answer. Gray entered carrying a stack of papers peeking out of a manila folder. He let the door hit him as it closed, causing some of the papers to fall onto the floor. Ida rushed around her desk to help him. I bet Ida just didn’t like women period, but with a man she couldn’t say no.
“Thank you. I’m so sorry.” Gray bent down to help gather the papers. His hand brushed against hers. Ida was eating it up. She blushed deeply. The color almost looked becoming on her.
“How may I help you?” she asked him, sweetly. Her tone a far cry from the one she used with me.
“Ladies, first.” Gray indicated me with his hand.
“Miss, you can have a seat.” Ida turned back to Gray. “She’s been helped, now what can I do for you?” Poor Ida didn’t know what hit her when Gray unleashed his full smile on her.
I used the distraction to inch toward the mayor’s office door. Gray maneuvered Ida, so her back was to me. I gave Gray a quick wink. The door to the inner office was tucked down a short hallway behind Ida’s desk to afford more privacy. Thanks to the flats, I was able to move softly in that direction. The walls were adorned with accolades the Mayor had won over the years of his service along with pictures of his wife and children. It was one of the family photos that stopped me cold. I picked up the frame from the decorative table next to the door. The mayor and his wife were smiling. Next to them stood a dark-haired boy about seventeen. His gawkiness was starting to wear off but could still be seen. Next to him, his sister was stunning. Her hair was equally as dark as his, but she appeared to be a few years older.
I slid the frame and all into my purse. The top of it stuck out a bit. I hid it by putting it under my arm like a clutch. I was about to turn and leave when the door to the inner office opened. I was startled by the sudden movement. Ida reacted to the sound, too, turning in my direction.
“I—”
Ben stood next to the mayor. I didn’t know who was more shocked by the other’s presence. An awkward silence stretched out between us. Ben took hold of my elbow, propelling me around Ida’s desk. Gray reacted just as quickly, grabbing onto my other arm. I was sandwiched between them and shuffled to the hallway.
The mayor’s voice carried to us as he asked Ida who we were. Ida’s answer was lost in our quick getaway. Ben guided us to the end of the hall near the elevators. He opened a closet door and hustled us inside.
“What are you doing? You could’ve blown everything.” Ben’s tone was harsh, angry.
“What are you doing is the question,” Gray said.
“He’s my client.”
“Obviously. But, why? Nobody cares about another politician seeing yet another call girl. It’s old news. It’s practically acceptable behavior,” Gray stated.
I ignored them and looked at the picture again. Even in the soft lighting of the supply closet, I could see the faces clearly. I’d never met the major’s daughter, but I had recently seen a picture of her. On Peter’s computer.
Chapter Forty-Three
“It’s his daughter!” Ben and Gray stopped arguing long enough to look down at me. I ignored Ben for now and focused on Gray.
“It’s his daughter. The mayor’s daughter. She’s one of the girls for hire. He was a client. He found out about her.” I turned my attention to Ben, now. “Am I right? That’s what he is trying to cover up. To protect her.”
The puzzle pieces started to fall into place. I talked out loud as I thought.
“Or to protect himself. That is one scandal no politician would want. You,” I pointed to Ben, “you were in Peter’s condo to erase the files on the computer. But, how did you know they were there?”
“Anya told me. I was going to wipe the whole computer and pull her picture off the website. Make it look like a malfunction,” Ben said.
“Of course. Peter is too cocky to have backups anywhere. It wouldn’t have taken much. But, I ruined your plan.”
“Yes, you did.” Ben seemed resigned to answer all of my questions.
“But, how does Anya fit into all this? I mean, I know she was running everything, but I mean, her murder. How? Why?” I looked at the both of them. Neither answered me. “You don’t know.”
“Ben, we’re missing something. What is it?” Gray asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Why was Anya helping you? From what we've learned, she was out for herself. She wouldn’t give you access without something for her benefit.”
Ben ignored Gray’s question. I thought about what Gray was saying. I had never given much thought to Anya’s motives before. Why was she willing to put her job, her livelihood, at risk? Money? It could be a huge motivator for some, but Anya never seemed the type to care about material things. She dressed well but never expensively. Her apartment was nice and well furnished, but by Chicago standards, not an expensive place at all. What was left?
Love? There had been no mention of Anya even being in a relationship. There weren’t any photos on her Facebook page with a smiling, happy man next to her. I’d never even heard any gossip through the pub grapevine about her dating. Love and money had been the biggest motivators since the dawn of man. That left . . .
Power. Anya wanted power. It made sense. The puzzle almost fit now. I thought back to the photo Ben showed us. Anya as a young child with her parents. In the photo, she and her mom were smiling. Her dad wasn’t, but he still emoted happiness. The old farmhouse behind them was in shambles. A shack really. Anya had grown up in Romania. Most of the population was far below the poverty standards of any country. Even after the dictatorship fell, prosperity didn’t happen. The people had been reliant on the government for so long they didn’t know how to do anything for themselves. Even something as small as how to sell their own vegetables at a market. Anya never would’ve had any power growing up in that environment. She wouldn’t have had anything really. She created, here in America with her escort service, power and financial security. She lived the American dream of making something for yourself out of nothing. Something illegal, but still.
That answered another question, too. Why Anya found it okay to sell girls. Because in a third world country, people were out for their own. Any way to survive was considered smart, ingenious. Girls sold themselves on a regular basis just to eat. I could see how she justified her behavior here. She was demanding a fair value for the goods traded. She was the Robin Hood of escorts. They received a chunk of money, helping girls like Sarah, while taking from those with more than enough.
The more questions I answered, the more that arose. How did Anya get started? Sarah told me when Anya gave her the pitch, she felt that she was speaking from personal experience. What had Sarah said? That Anya seemed to have been on the other side. Had Anya turned tricks and built up a clientele? It wasn’t hard to spend some time in upscale bars, casually bump into someone creating a chance meeting.
“We need to leave.” I grabbed Gray’s arm and turned him toward the door. We left Ben standing in the closet alone.
“Where are we going?” Gray didn’t ask the question until we were a safe distance away in case Ben tried to follow us.
“Home.” We hustled out of City Hall. I checked behind me regularly, but Ben didn’t pursue us. Once around the corner, we slowed down. My foot caused me to limp worse than earlier. I wanted to lay down with it propped up and covered in ice. I wasn’t lying when I said home. Gray hailed a cab, and we were on our way.
“I think I’ve figured out the why,” I explained my reasoning to Gray. He could see the possibility, but without solid proof, he was reluctant to agree completely.
“We still have one big question unanswered. Who in the restaurant was helping Anya? I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to face it. It’s more than likely Peter,” Gray said.
“I know it’s not. When Peter asked me to help him with the books, he commented that he wouldn’t even know where to start because Anya had taken ever
ything over. He was so confident in her abilities that he was breaking the golden rule of business ownership.”
“Never let anyone else pay your bills.”
“Exactly, because they could be stealing from you. I need to get into the work computer.” Gray and I locked eyes. The horror in his must mirror mine as we both had the same thoughts.
“I never shut down Peter’s computer.”
“And I never erased our history. Where is Peter now?”
“I, um,” I checked my watch. It was after five. “I think Peter was planning on dinner with Anais. At her place.”
“Now?”
“Probably soon. I brought my keys. I can get into the office at the pub. He just needs to have left first.”
“Then let’s do a stakeout.”
Gray had the cabbie turn around and drop us on the other side of Marina Towers. We planted ourselves in the window at the bar across the street from Peter’s parking entrance. We both sat on the same side of the table, watching the exit. I was turned slightly with my leg across Gray’s lap. The server was nice enough to make me an impromptu ice pack for my foot. He even wrangled up a couple of ibuprofen. We nibbled on nachos and devised a plan.
“You go to the bar and order a drink. I’ll sneak into the office and get what we need.”
“No. I’ll go with you.” Gray dipped his nacho into extra salsa before taking a bite.
“You can’t. That will attract attention. Nobody will think twice about me going in since I’ve been there working.”
“It’s too dangerous. We are bound to arouse suspicion in someone.”
“It’s the only way. You’ll be forty feet from me. Nothing will happen.” His expression told me he believed otherwise, but he let it drop.
“What if someone comes into the office needing something? How will you explain yourself?” Gray added more salsa before taking another bite. Salsa dribbled onto his chin.
“It’s dinner rush. No one will go in. They’ll be busy waiting on the customers.” I used my napkin to clean up his chin. I rested my hands on either side of his face before giving him a quick kiss. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”