Bye.
To: Nancy Delaney
From:
Date: 23 June 2012, 11:19 am
Subject: [none]
Oh dear. Calling you now. Hold tight, Ms. Delaney.
Delete this entire email string immediately. I’ll explain why on the phone. I’m calling your land line. Please pick up when I call. I promise I won’t bite, Or send any goons.
R.
My landline rang almost immediately. “Hello?”
“Ms. Delaney. How lovely to hear your voice. Even lovelier to know that you are safe and sound.”
“And why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because if what you told me about your mother and those goons is true, you and she may both be in serious danger.”
“Of course it’s true. Why would I lie about something like that?”
“I’m not accusing you of lying. I know you to be honest and forthright, even if I have only known you for a couple of days. But I don’t know your mother.”
“My mom is a lot of kooky things, but she’s not a liar.”
“I believe you. You are proof that she has ethics. Your kind of convictions don’t just appear out of nowhere. I should say, Nancy, that I continue to be impressed by your gumption.”
Gumption. Now that’s not a word I would ever have expected to come out of his mouth. It was more Andy Griffith than International Man of Mystery. “Quit stalling and get to the freaking point.”
“As you wish. Nancy, did your mother give a physical description of the---ahem---gentlemen who paid her a visit? Beyond ‘Russian goons in a limo,’ I mean.”
“She said they all wore expensive suits and earpieces. Bald heads.”
“Naturally bald or shaved?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Muscular? Large? Small? In-between?”
“She didn’t say. All she said was they looked like mob enforcers. They asked her weird stuff about me. My likes and dislikes, a list of my past boyfriends, some other random stuff.”
He laughed at this. “It sounds as if they were profiling you for a teenybopper magazine.”
“That’s not funny. My mom was really scared and upset. She called the cops, but they wouldn’t do anything.”
“I’m not surprised. That’s usually how things like this go, unfortunately. The local cops don’t like to get involved in this sort of thing. They usually will either say it’s a civil matter or refer it to the feds, and the feds usually just bounce it back to the local cops, and it just goes back and forth from there.”
“You sound as if you deal with this sort of thing a lot.”
He sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s an occupational hazard.”
That sounded a lot like an admission of guilt to me. Maybe I finally had the opening I wanted. “Because you’re involved with the Russian mafia?”
“No. Because I come from a country and culture where strong-arming and corruption are common. I do business with my fellow Ukranians and always have, but that doesn’t mean I’m a mobster.”
A slippery response. “Fine. Then explain the goons.”
“I believe that the individuals who paid your mother a visit are associated with my client---or shall we say, my former client---in Sevastopol. He’s a man with odd tastes, and sometimes he likes to investigate young women whom he’s taken an interest in.”
“Taken an interest in? Are you saying he’s taken an interest in me?”
“It certainly seems that way. I’m not sure why or how, though. Especially since as far as I know, my client hasn’t set foot in the United States for over two years. I’m not sure where he is at all in fact. Nobody in Sevastapol has seen him for over a year. There was a rumor going around a few months ago that he was living in Switzerland now, but honestly, he could be anywhere.”
“Peter, I have only known you for three days. How can some dude living on the other side of the world that I’ve never even met figure out how to take an interest in me?” I didn’t exactly know what Rostovich meant by interest either----and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to.
“Viktor Bluschenncko has eyes and ears everywhere,” was his noncommittal reply. “He always finds out whatever he wants to know, before anyone else even knows what he’s up to. It’s why he’s always been so successful at everything he does. Nobody is quite sure how he manages it, just that he always does, and it’s best not to mess with whatever he’s doing if you can possibly avoid it.”
“You really aren’t telling me anything here.”
“Nancy, listen to me very carefully. For whatever reason, Viktor Bluschencko has taken an interest in you. I don’t know when and I don’t know why. It’s entirely possible he took notice of you well before you ever became associated with me. In fact, I’d bet good money on that.”
“But why? I’m nobody. I’m just a college student in Cleveland and he’s some eccentric rich dude on the other side of the world.”
“All the more reason for Viktor to take an interest in you. He especially likes innocent young women from obscure places. He prefers them, in fact. It makes his job far easier.”
“And what is his job, exactly?”
“He’s a businessman. An international businessman. You might say he’s an importer/exporter of sorts.”
I could only imagine what that meant. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what it is he imports and exports.”
“You’re a savvy reporter, Ms. Delaney. I bet you can find that out for yourself.”
Hmph. Typical. “Whatever. Are you going to at least tell me why these goons are harassing my mom?”
“I can’t tell you why, because I honestly don’t know for sure. But I can tell you how to avoid them. Or rather, I can help you avoid them, if you’re willing to allow me to.”
“Go on.”
“With your permission, Ms. Delaney, I’d like to provide you with a private security team at my expense. I can provide your mother with one too if she likes, though I don’t think it’s likely that Bluschenko’s people will continue to bother her. If she wasn’t forthcoming with the information they wanted, they’ll just go look for it somewhere else. They don’t like legal entanglements or bad publicity, and they have plenty of ways to find out what they want to know that won’t involve the police.”
Just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get more bizarre, they did. “Private security? You mean like a bodyguard or something?”
“Exactly. Although I would prefer it to be multiple bodyguards. They would need to protect you 24/7, even at home.”
“You mean they’d come with me to class and to work?”
He coughed. “About that. You’re going to have to quit your job. And I’m not sure how we can work with you continuing to go to school.”
I leapt to my feet. “Excuse me? I’m sorry, but just because you happened to screw me a couple of times does not give you the right to control every aspect of my life. You do not get to dictate whether I work or go to school. Fuck that. And fuck you. This conversation is over.”
I made a move to disconnect the call, but something stopped me. I guess I just wanted to know what his reaction would be. I didn’t have to wait long to find out.
He sucked in his breath. “Perhaps I didn’t phrase that well, Ms. Delaney. Of course I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. I’m offering you a suggestion. A very strong suggestion, but whether you take my advice is entirely up to you. I’m just saying, I think it would be in your best interest to lay low for a while. Very low.”
I resisted the urge to throw my phone against the wall. “Lay low? I’m sorry, but that’s really not an option. I have school, and I have my job, and I have two articles to finish by Tuesday. I haven’t even started a paper that’s due for one of my classes next week, and I have midterms besides. I have a fucking life here. I’m only a little over two months away from graduating college, do you really think I’m going to let some dude I had a kinky one-night stand with
mess that up? You’re asking me to throw my whole life away over something that I frankly am not even sure is the truth.”
There was a pause. I waited a long time for him to speak, and was just about to hang up in frustration when he finally did. “Nancy, I realize this may come as a bit of a shock to you---“
“A bit of a shock? Jesus H. Christ, that’s got to be the understatement of the freaking century.”
“If you’ll just let me finish. I will provide you with private security, Nancy, which I think you’re going to need, especially after your articles come out. I have a feeling you’re going to uncover some things that will make some very powerful and dangerous people very angry with you. People who can and do have the means to cause you considerable harm. I have no doubt you’re up for the job of being a star reporter, but there are consequences to that line of work.”
“Peter, I’m writing art reviews, A feature for the lifestyle section. Not All The President’s Men.”
“On the contrary, you might be surprised what you’ll uncover. What you’ve already uncovered. But since I’ve gotten you mixed up in all of this, Nancy---either directly or indirectly---I feel that I have a responsibility to keep you safe.” His tone changed then, shifting from authoritarian to tender. “Not only that, I care deeply for you, and it would distress me very much to see any harm come to you.”
The room seemed to sway around me. “I see,” was all I managed to get out.
“Does that surprise you?”
“Yes, it does.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just thought you didn’t do that sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing?”
“You know, relationships. Romance, and flowers, and tender feelings and all that. It’s not your style.”
“You’re right, Nancy, it isn’t. But these past few days have made me question a lot of things about myself.”
“Me too.”
There was an awkward silence. Neither of us seemed to know what to say next. I took the initiative and broke it. “So what happens now?”
“I need to send the iPad over to you soon with those image files we discussed,” Peter replied. “If it’s all right with you, I can send a security detail over to deliver it that will stay with you. Two bodyguards at a time, working in rotating twelve-hour shifts. You can go about your business as usual with them there. They won’t bother you, and they’re very well-trained. I can vouch for them personally.”
“What about work and school? I can’t really give either up right now.”
“I’ve already spoken to Benny this morning. We’ve come to an understanding about your cocktailing job.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
“Benny has agreed that he will no longer employ you as a cocktail waitress. However, he will continue to provide you with compensation approximately equal to what you would have received in tips. You’ll receive weekly checks to that effect until further notice. That way you’re not exposing yourself to any unnecessary risks, and your own cash-flow situation won’t be disrupted.”
My jaw dropped. “What? Why on earth would Benny do something like that?”
“As a personal favor to me.”
I was stunned. Benny had always been a decent boss, but he was also a cheap bastard who never did anything for free. “He must owe you big-time.”
“Oh, he does. And not just for what I did for his brother’s bar, either.”
I thought about pressing him on this point, but there were other more important matters to unravel first. “You said I needed to delete that email string and talk to you on a secured landline. Why?”
“Because Blushencko’s people are probably tracking you. They’ve probably already hacked into your email account and your cell phone. Probably not your landline yet, that usually takes them longer. I recommend you change all your passwords and get a new cell phone account immediately. I can provide you with one that is untraceable if you like. Use your landline whenever you can. Better yet, don’t talk on the phone at all. At least not until I can get some security over there.”
“I still don’t understand why this Bluschencko, whoever he is, would be interested in me in the first place.”
“Because he sees potential profit in you. I don’t know when or how he first came across you, Nancy, but I intend to find out. It’s entirely possible he’s been tracking you for months. And I believe that you and your roommate’s magazine did not stumble upon me or my gallery opening by accident. I sincerely believe that Bluschencko intended for that to happen. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. It’s been wonderful making your acquaintance. But---“
“But what?”
“But I would hate to lose you before I’ve even gotten a chance to know you, Nancy. I’ll move heaven and earth to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“What do you mean, lose me? You don’t even have me in the first place.”
He didn’t respond. I just listened to his breathing make static on the phone line. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Nancy. I mean that. And if you don’t take my advice, something will. Something very, very serious.”
“Such as?”
“Nancy, you could be killed. Or worse.”
“What could possibly be worse than being killed?”
“You don’t want to know. Trust me.”
It took me a long time to find my voice again. “So this Bluschencko kills people?”
“Yes. Among other things.”
“So he’s in the Russian mafia then?”
“No. He considers simple organized crime beneath him. He’s involved in something far more dangerous.”
“Like what?”
“The Ukrainian government. The Russian government, too. He has ties to the Swiss as well, along with some very secret organizations even I’m not familiar with. Many fingers in many pies, all of them poisonous.”
“And yet you used to work for him.”
“He commissioned me to work on a piece of art. That’s all. You might say he’s one of my biggest fans. A collector.”
“You must have some freaky collectors, then.”
He laughed. “Yes, that’s true. It’s helped me become very successful. But it’s a double-edged sword. There’s a reason most artists choose to remain starving. The price you pay for success can be rather high.”
“I wish you would tell me more about that,” I said. “It sounds like something I should include in my article.”
“You can quote me if you like. But as far as what it means, I’ll leave that to you to find out. I think you’ll discover it soon enough.” He paused. “How are you recovering from our, ahem, festivities last night? I trust you are well? Not injured in any way?”
“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
“I know I asked you this once before, but do you have any regrets?”
I fiddled with some stray pieces of fuzz on the duvet cover. “Not about the sex part,” I replied, which was the truth. “But I don’t know about the rest. I hate the idea of what happened to my mom. And I can’t say I’m happy about being mixed up with whoever or whatever this Bluschencko guy is.”
“Bluschencko may very well have mixed you up with me, too, remember. So if you want to take it out on anyone, take it out on him. Though probably not literally. He doesn’t like it when anybody crosses him.”
I mulled that over for a minute. “When will I see you again?”
“Soon, I hope. But not right away. I don’t want to draw any undue attention to you when Blushencko’s people might be watching. I’ll have the iPad and the security team over within the hour, though. And I believe Julian is also at your disposal should you need anything.”
“Yes, he said as much.”
“Julian is a good man. I’ve come to trust him. Did you know he’s followed me to several different Ritz-Carlton hotels around the world? He knows me better than any hotel concierge ever should.”
“Really? Wow. I thought he
lived here in Cleveland.”
“He’s from here originally, and is based here as much as he can be. But he’s followed me around the past couple of years. He’s been very loyal to me. Granted, I pay him well for the privilege, but I would trust Julian with my life.”
“You’d trust a hotel concierge with your life? That seems kind of strange.”
He laughed. “Julian wasn’t always a concierge. Once upon a time he was a Navy SEAL, among other things. I strongly suggest you lean on him as much as you possibly can, especially over the next few days. I can’t be with you right now to protect you, so use the resources available to you.”
Protect me. He wanted to protect me? That seemed ironic given all that had happened. “It’s kind of hard for you to protect me when you’re not here.”
“Nancy, I always protect my submissives. It’s part of the sacred trust I have with them.”
My submissives. The words hit me with a jolt. “So I’m your submissive now? Is that how you think of me?”
“Nancy, I think of you as a wonderful, beautiful and talented young woman who also just so happens to be my submissive. At least, you were last night. Whether or not you choose to continue in that role in the future is entirely your choice. We can even write up a formal agreement if you like, though I prefer to enter into these arrangements with verbal consent only. Which, mind you, can be revoked at any time with your safeword. Or simply by saying you don’t want to do it anymore. That also works.”
Written agreements, verbal consents. It sounded like we were talking about real estate contracts, not having sex. “I don’t know what I want right now,” I admitted.
“That’s understandable. I wouldn’t either if I were you.”
On the contrary, I knew I wanted more sex. Lots more of it. And quickly. But if I let my thoughts go too far in that direction, I wouldn’t be able to focus on the task at hand. My many, many tasks at hand. Writing those articles. Passing my classes and graduating. Staying alive. “I need some time to think,” I heard myself say.
Domino (The Domino Trilogy) Page 21