Demons are Forever

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Demons are Forever Page 17

by Kim Baldwin; Xenia Alexiou


  “I’m happy you could make it on such short notice,” Dario said.

  “I try to accommodate you if I can.”

  “I appreciate that, Amber. I wanted to see you tonight because there’s been a change in my schedule.”

  “Oh?”

  “I am expected to make another business trip this week.”

  “I see,” Heather said. “Have you informed Direct Connect about the changes?”

  “I have. I also asked for permission to make you an offer.”

  “All right,” Heather said warily.

  “I would like you to accompany me to China.”

  “I don’t think I can—”

  “We would leave this Friday and return Monday.” Dario continued as though he hadn’t heard her. “You will be generously rewarded.”

  “It’s not about money,” Heather said. “I don’t feel comfortable going away with someone I don’t know, let alone have never even seen.”

  “What are you afraid of? Don’t you trust me?”

  “It’s simply a matter of not knowing you.” Heather didn’t want to offend him; he was an important client. But she was astonished he might think she could ever trust such a man. “Aside from that, it would be impossible to get the time off on such short notice.”

  “Your employer has already agreed.”

  “I don’t mean Direct Connect.”

  “I know who you mean.”

  Heather was stunned speechless by the implication. She knew he could see the shock on her face.

  “I talked to Robert this morning,” Dario said, referring to her boss at Cesare Chelline Fashions. “He was most compliant.”

  “How do you know about my work?”

  “I know a lot about you, Heather.”

  So he knew her name, where she worked, and what else? This was a whole new kind of violation, one she was unprepared for. She got up and walked to the two-way mirror. “How do you know?”

  “Acquiring what you want is simple, if you want it enough.”

  “What you want?” Heather repeated. “I don’t understand where you’re going with this, Dario, but my personal life was never part of the deal.”

  “I reserve that term for business. My interest in you is purely for pleasure.”

  “This conversation is making me very uncomfortable” Heather turned her back to collect herself.

  “What troubles you, Heather? My proposal or the fact that I know who you are?”

  “You have no idea who I am.” The response came out sharper than she intended, but she was having a hard time controlling her rising anger.

  “Excuse my poor choice of words,” Dario said with his usual unctuous politeness. “I was merely referring to the facts.”

  “Did you think you could blackmail me into accepting your offer?”

  “Of course not. I don’t want you to do anything against your will. I’ve been very careful to respect you.”

  Respect me? The guy pays to watch me have sex.

  “I want you to come with me only if you wish to.”

  “Assuming I agreed, which I don’t,” Heather replied, “I’d be doing it for the money, not because I wanted to.”

  “Which wouldn’t be any different from what you do for me every week.”

  “Then realize what I do here has nothing to do with what I want.”

  “I can’t completely agree with that statement,” Dario said. “Unless, of course, you are here against your will. Does someone force you to entertain me, or is it something you choose to do?”

  “I do it because I have to.”

  “And why do you have to?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Is it because you want to help your brother?”

  “What?” she fired back, too loud. He indeed knew everything about her, and the realization both disgusted and frightened her.

  “I’m sure it is. In which case, you do this work because you want to help him. You do it because you want to keep him alive. Do you see how necessity can make you want?”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “Someone who wants to help you. All I ask in return is your company.”

  “Why me? I’m sure you know plenty of women who’d be happy to oblige.”

  “You’re beautiful, smart, and compassionate. The ideal woman to keep me company and make me look good. And, no, I don’t associate with women of your caliber.”

  “What does that mean?” Though she knew how ridiculous it was to place any credence on a john’s opinion, she couldn’t help feeling offended.

  “I don’t know any other woman as painfully beautiful as well as bright.”

  She knew it was meant as a compliment, but the sentiment disgusted her. If he was so clued into her life it was only fair that she ask him about his. “Is Dario your real name?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s unusual for a client to give his actual name, especially when he’s being so mysterious.”

  “I substitute myself for these men because I want to look like them. But I have never wanted to be anyone other than myself. They are a mere vessel—a means, if you will, to living a small portion of my life vicariously.”

  “Are you impotent?”

  “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “No disappointment is worse than that of yourself. I like to be surrounded by perfection. Everything in my life is ordered to give me exactly that. I can pay anyone as much as they want to give me that flawlessness, but no amount of money can make me perfect. This is why I need vessels.”

  “No one is perfect. No one has to be.”

  “That’s why you’re so different. Beautiful women insist on being surrounded by everything attractive.”

  “What kind of business are you in?”

  “The purchase and distribution of furniture, worldwide.”

  “What do you have to do in China?”

  “Pay and make…arrangements with a most irritating seller.”

  “What would I have to do as your escort?”

  “Accompany me to business dinners and perhaps a few other formal appearances.”

  “Sex?”

  “Maybe, but not necessarily. I would make your company worth your while, Heather. Come with me and you won’t have to worry about your brother’s bills for a while.”

  “Then why would I continue to see to your needs?” she asked sarcastically.

  “If we both agree to maintain these and future travel arrangements, you will never have to worry about your brother’s expenses.”

  “You would own me.”

  “Think of it as a mutually profitable arrangement, Heather. You will have plenty of time to pursue your goals, and your brother will have a very comfortable life.”

  “My goals?” What could he possibly know about those?

  “I’m sure a smart woman like you cannot be content with creating someone else’s art instead of her own.”

  “I can manage my ambitions without your help.”

  “But I can make it happen a lot faster. Think about it. I don’t expect you to answer right now. I’m going to leave a number with your money. Call me when you decide.”

  “I already gave you my answer,” she replied firmly.

  “You have until tomorrow night to reconsider. Have a nice evening, Heather.”

  Chase leaned back in her chair and smiled at the monitor. “We can scratch Heather off the list of suspects. She clearly has no idea who Dario is or what he does.”

  “Do you think the irritating seller in China is Rózsa?” Jack asked.

  “It’s very possible. Dario’s obviously the guy who made the money transfer to him from the brownstone. And he said he has a furniture company, which matches what Reno said about the other account he’s been tracking.”

  “About the money Rózsa kept receiving for organs back in Hungary being made from an untraceable New York furniture company,” Jack said.

  “Which all means that Dario’s f
urniture business is a front for his organ trade.”

  “We can’t scare him now or he’ll alert Rózsa. If he is in China and Dario is headed that way, he can lead us right to him and… Cass.” The news had obviously given Jack a burst of renewed hope. She was suddenly all nervous energy and anticipation, sitting forward, one knee restlessly pumping up and down.

  “Agreed,” Chase replied. “We’re going to find out where Dario lives and take it from there.”

  “He should be coming out any moment,” Jack said as they stared at the monitor. “We’re about to beat Reno at IDing our guy.”

  Chase grinned. “It could crush him.”

  “About time someone rained on Little Miss Sunshine’s parade.” Jack tapped her foot. “He’s taking his sweet time getting out, though.”

  Just then a big man in a suit appeared at the rear exit. He propped open the door and disappeared back inside.

  “I saw him yesterday, he was escorting a—” The man in the suit pushed a wheelchair out the door. It was the same guy from the previous night they’d summarily dismissed as a possibility, and they still couldn’t get a view of his face because of the camera angle.

  “Dario is in a wheelchair?” Jack asked.

  “Unless the other guy is the one who’s being escorted.”

  “Fat chance.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Explains why he considers himself flawed and all he wants is to watch,” Jack said.

  They waited until Dario was helped into the waiting cab, then both scrambled to get in the front of the van. Chase stayed a few cars behind Dario.

  “You think Heather will take the offer?” Jack asked.

  “I doubt it.”

  “Sounds like a lot of money.”

  “She may be a call girl, but she’s not for sale,” Chase said.

  “You sound pretty confident.”

  “I haven’t been wrong about her yet.”

  “You didn’t seem too sure after we got a look at Gigi’s cell,” Jack pointed out.

  “I was angry and frustrated because I don’t like being wrong. Turns out I wasn’t.”

  “Gotta hand it to Dario, he definitely did his homework on her.”

  Chase frowned. “He’s a manipulative bastard.”

  The cab led them to Long Island’s “Gold Coast” of luxurious mansions and elite private homes, where it turned into a fortress-like compound surrounded by a high wall. Security cameras were strategically placed near the massive iron gate and at intervals atop the wall. They paused in front of the driveway, but the cab disappeared around the side of the enormous brick home, preventing them once again from getting a look at Dario. Thanks to the massive security lights on the exterior, however, they did spot two additional goons working for the guy—one positioned by the front door and another on an upstairs balcony.

  “I’m going to start thinking the guy doesn’t have a face,” Jack said.

  “We need to update Pierce and get Reno working on IDing this guy.” Chase pulled to the curb a short distance farther on and dialed headquarters. Once she had both of them on a conference call, she engaged the speakerphone. “Reno, we have Dario’s address,” she said, and rattled off the house number and street. “We need the full works on this guy ASAP. We also need you to run a check on all flights out of the New York metro area the day after tomorrow bound for China to see if he has a booking under his name.”

  “Running it now,” Reno replied. “Should have it momentarily.”

  “Give me everything you’ve got,” Pierce said.

  Chase briefed him on all they’d learned.

  Reno jumped in when she’d finished. “Okay, got it. The house ownership doesn’t give us Dario’s last name. The address is registered to Dragon Imports Unlimited, which at least confirms your suspicions that it’s his bogus company. And unfortunately, I’m not finding any airline reservations to China with a Dario in the name.”

  “He could be traveling under an alias, if he has a fake passport,” Chase mused. “Or maybe he lied to Heather, and Dario is his cover name.”

  “From the looks of this place, he could have his own plane,” Jack said.

  “Any way you can get inside?” Pierce asked.

  “Doubtful,” Chase replied. “High security, and we know he has at least three bodyguards. Probably more, from the size of the place.”

  “At least you have a good lead on Rózsa, finally,” Pierce said. “Keep me apprised. I know you two will find a way to nail down where he’s going. I’ll have our people here ready to make your arrangements to follow him.”

  “Roger that.” Chase disconnected.

  “Looks like we’re off to China,” Jack said as Chase started the van and headed back toward Manhattan.

  “The question is, where in China?”

  “I have an idea.”

  “I was afraid you would,” Chase said.

  “Just hear me out and save your shit fit for the end.”

  “I do enjoy a grand finale.”

  “Dario plans to leave soon and we can’t find him booked on any flight. We still don’t have his last name and no clue what he looks like.”

  “So far, so good.”

  “But we do know someone we can plant inside. Someone who can get close to Dario and lead us to Rózsa. Assuming, of course, she cooperates,” Jack said.

  “If you’re implying we use a civilian, you’re crazier than I thought.”

  “Landis, she’s our only in.”

  “There’s got to be another way.”

  “Yeah, if we wait around long enough, I’m sure something will come up,” Jack said. “Problem is, we don’t have the luxury of time.”

  “She’s a civilian,” Chase repeated. “And this guy probably has hundreds of homicidal idiots working for him. China is the cesspool of the organ trade, and he’s headed there to likely off Rózsa. Do you really think Heather needs to get caught in the middle of that?”

  “We’ll have her back the whole time. Send her in wired.”

  “What happens when she has to…perform for Dario?” Chase asked.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time and, besides, the room will be bugged. We’ll hear if she’s in trouble.”

  “Have you seen his entourage and security? It’s only going to get worse when he’s surrounded by the likes of himself.”

  “Heather can help us get in,” Jack said.

  “What makes you think she’ll even agree to your master plan?”

  “Hey, we got nothing to lose by asking. Think about it, Landis. She’s our best shot at finding Cass.”

  Chase tiredly rubbed her face.

  “You okay?” Jack asked.

  “You’re not the only one getting too old for this shit. I don’t think she’ll agree and I don’t know if I want her to.”

  “Let me talk to her.”

  “We’ll do it together.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Mouchamps, France

  Cassady stared up at the ceiling of her prison, following the sound of Rózsa’s footfalls on the floor above. Another ten minutes or so, she guessed, until he arrived with her water and oatmeal. Her hunger had dulled in recent days. She continued to eat only because she needed to keep up what little strength remained. But her thirst had become more acute with each passing hour. These minutes before her daily ration were unbearable, and the relief she got from her meager eight ounces was always short-lived. She sweated more than that in a couple of hours down here, or so it seemed.

  She had no idea how long she’d been held captive. Long enough to become bony and thin, with only a fraction of her usual energy and strength. Certainly the EOO must think her dead by now, and she wondered how Jack was coping. Despite her fearless and formidable exterior, Jack had a gentle, fragile side, and Cassady worried that Jack might do something dangerous or self-destructive if she believed she was gone forever. To keep herself sane, she often closed her eyes and tried to send messages to Jack: I’m still alive, sweetheart. Come find me. Ple
ase come find me.

  When Rózsa’s heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs, she tried to work up some saliva so she could speak. She was going to beg him again for more water, though he’d ignored all previous requests, and she planned to ask for a proper bath. Her bucket wash, days earlier, had done little to cleanse the stench from her body. Initially she’d almost become inured to her odor, but the air in the basement had become so fetid she could scarcely breathe. She wasn’t hopeful he’d agree, but the day before, she’d seen him pause as he entered and wrinkle his nose in disgust, so maybe he’d be amenable to the idea. He entered as usual and headed toward her.

  “Please,” she rasped, her voice an unrecognizable croak. “Please, I need more water. I can’t survive on what little you give me.”

  Rózsa set down her water and oatmeal and stepped back a couple of steps, but didn’t leave. He looked down at her, studying her like a virus under his microscope.

  “And I can’t stand the smell any longer,” she said while she had his attention. “Surely you can’t, either. It’s making me so sick I can barely eat without throwing it back up. I need a proper bath. I promise you, I won’t try anything. Please. I’m begging you. Show some mercy.”

  Rózsa didn’t answer. He stood there for a few more seconds, then turned to leave.

  Cassady grabbed the water and took a long sip, holding it in her mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. It wasn’t nearly enough to quench her raging thirst, but she forced herself to ration it throughout the day, so she wouldn’t take another sip for at least an hour. Leaning back against the cold concrete wall, she fought the urge to weep. Not like she could summon tears, at this point, anyway, but she tried hard to resist any urge to sink further into depression.

  She was so accustomed to every sound of his routine she realized as Rózsa started up the steps that he hadn’t secured the bolt on the door. Was it an oversight? Or was he coming back?

  Two minutes later, she got her answer when he returned with another paper cup of water. He set it down and backed away again. “Drink it,” he said.

  Though her instinct told her to ration it, Rózsa’s odd expression made it clear he wanted her to drink the whole thing, right now. Afraid he would take it away again if she didn’t comply, she reached for the cup and downed the contents. For the first time in many days, her thirst abated to a dull roar. “Thank you,” Cassady said. “Will you let me have a bath now? Please?”

 

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