“She say only need police. In my country, police are no good,” she said, spitting the words. She glanced at Leine’s left arm, frowning. “Are you injured?”
“I’m fine.” Leine was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt. I must have been favoring it, she thought.
“Leine Basso.” Dick Bennett came toward them, his voice reaching across the space, magnified by the room’s angles. The skin sagged under his eyes, and his normally tan complexion was pallid, adding at least ten years to his appearance. His usual, over-the-top energy had transformed into a more thoughtful demeanor.
“Mr. Bennett,” Leine said, extending her hand. He grasped it firmly.
“Horrible what happened to Josh,” he said, glancing at Teuta before he turned his attention back to Leine. “I want to thank you for risking your life to find our daughter.”
“It’s part of the job, Mr. Bennett.” Leine scanned the room for Elise’s mother. “I’d like to talk to you and Mrs. Bennett about your asking SHEN to step back from the investigation.”
Dick Bennett slid his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor. Shaking his head, he lifted his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry, Leine, but both Belinda and I think the risk is too great. We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you.”
“May I ask who informed you about events in Mexico?”
“Mr. Gunderson from Immigration and Customs mentioned it.”
“Listen.” Leine took a deep breath and let it go. “I’m sure I can find Elise, or, at least I can find out what happened. I don’t have the same…restraints as the police.”
Dick Bennett’s eyes shifted. The movement was slight but Leine caught the change. He wasn’t telling her something. He altered his stance and glanced at his housekeeper. “Teuta, would you be so kind as to get us both some refreshments?”
“Of course, Mr. Bennett.” Teuta moved toward the kitchen with surprising energy. Dick Bennett tracked her progress before he turned back to Leine.
“There’s something you should know—” he said leaning toward her, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Hello, Leine.” The temperature plummeted as Belinda Bennett swept into the room. Dick Bennett took a step back and clamped his lips shut.
Mrs. Bennett paused at a candy dish on a wooden credenza, selected a piece, and joined them. “You didn’t need to come all this way,” she said as she unwrapped a chocolate and popped it into her mouth.
“I was just explaining to your husband how I believe I can still be of use in the search effort,” Leine said.
“Is that so?” Belinda Bennett’s light blue eyes bored into Leine’s, reminding her of a bird of prey and giving the impression she was calculating possible responses.
Jesus, the woman could freeze the Pacific with her attitude, Leine thought.
“My actions are not scrutinized as closely as law enforcement, which gives me a tactical advantage. I found Josh. I know I can find Elise.”
“I’m grateful for what you’ve done, Leine. May I call you Leine?”
“Of course.”
“As I said, I’m—we’re grateful for what you’ve done, but we’d never forgive ourselves if anything happened to you. Please,” Belinda Bennett’s mask slipped, revealing something far deeper—fear? desperation?—before composure took its place again. “You need to stop.”
The kidnappers have made their demands, Leine realized with a start. The Bennetts’ reactions implied they were covering up something—the most likely scenario being the kidnappers had instructed them to continue to act as though there had been no ransom demand or they would kill Elise. Nabokov and Gunderson would continue to work with the cops in TJ. They’d never find her and the kidnappers knew it. Not as long as they kept her in Mexico.
If she was still there.
Teuta returned to the living room with a tray of glasses, placing it on top of a large ottoman. “I make lemonade,” she said.
The Bennetts glanced at each other. A look passed between them before Dick said, “Please, sit down, Leine. The police didn’t go into great detail about what you faced in Mexico—only that you had found Josh.”
Leine recounted a sanitized version of events in Mexico, skipping over the ambush at Doctor Ramirez’s office, all the while watching the interaction between the Bennetts and Teuta, who had asked to stay.
The dynamics had changed from Leine’s initial impression of the trio. Dick and Belinda both chose their words carefully. They obviously hadn’t confided in Teuta. And why would they? She was an employee. It made sense, given the housekeeper’s strong attachment to the girl. And yet, Leine sensed something else. Something in the way Teuta held herself. Defiance, perhaps? Leine assumed she wasn’t happy with the Bennetts’ decision to drop SHEN as part of the search team.
“I’m sorry you decided against SHEN continuing to search for your daughter,” Leine said. “Won’t you please reconsider? If my involvement has anything to do with it, there are several fine contractors who work with us that can take over the case.”
“Thank you, Leine, but the police are investigating and believe they’re close.” Belinda Bennett’s voice held a note of finality.
“Has anyone contacted you regarding a ransom?” Leine asked as she stood to leave.
Belinda held her gaze steady. “No.”
“That seems odd, doesn’t it? Forgive me, but why else do you think they kidnapped Elise?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps you could enlighten us? Since you seem to think you know the motivation of these animals.” Belinda Bennett’s demeanor had changed from ice-cold to hostile in a split-second, giving Leine the impression she’d hit a nerve.
She switched tactics and pulled out her business card, handing it to Belinda.
“My card. In case you misplaced the other one. Don’t hesitate to call if you think of anything I can do to help.”
Leine nodded at Belinda and the housekeeper and followed Dick Bennett out.
“If you want to talk, please call me,” Leine murmured as she shook his hand, palming another card. He slid it from her and put it in his pocket.
“Look, I want to apologize for Belinda’s behavior. The stress of the changes my company’s going through combined with not being able to find Elise have taken their toll.”
“That’s right. You’re taking your biotech firm public, right?”
Dick Bennett nodded.
“I’m sure the questions surrounding your daughter’s abduction will be answered, in time. I don’t suppose you can put the IPO off until her disappearance is resolved?”
“Not now. We’ve come too far.” His face reflected a bewildering array of emotions—confusion, fear, dogged determination, hopelessness.
“Thank you for stopping by,” he said, opening her car door. “Be safe.”
***
“Why the hell shouldn’t I call her?” Dick Bennett slammed his keys on the nightstand and turned to face his wife. “We’re talking about our daughter, remember? Goes by the name Elise?”
“Yes, I remember Elise. What kind of mother do you think I am?” Belinda Bennett took a deep breath and glared at her husband. “I think we should do exactly as they instructed. Remember them? The men with our daughter?” The sarcasm dripped between them like acid. “They insisted there be no outsiders. They told us to call off the police or they’ll kill her. Remember?” Her voice caught and she turned away, angrily wiping her eyes.
Dick crossed to his desk and opened his laptop, revealing the picture that had been delivered via email that morning. Elise, barefoot and chained to a bed, her dress torn, eyes swollen from crying, looking lost and alone.
And petrified.
Dick closed his eyes. “I think Leine’s right. The police aren’t getting anywhere.”
“And that’s exactly what they want, isn’t it? Look, if we just pay the damned money—”
“No!” Dick slammed his fist on the nightstand. “I will not negotiate with terrorists. And believe me, these people are terroris
ts.”
“I know it’s a huge amount of cash, but darling, this is our baby we’re talking about.” Belinda’s tone softened. She walked to where he was sitting and began to massage his shoulders. “We’ll get through this. Let’s talk things through.”
Dick sighed again and lowered his head. “There’s nothing to talk about. My gut tells me to go with Leine Basso, and my gut’s never been wrong.”
Belinda stopped massaging her husband’s neck as though she’d been handed hot coals.
“It’s wrong now,” she hissed and pushed him away.
Chapter 22
Leine zipped the bag closed and carried her suitcase to the living room as the front door opened.
“Leaving?” Santa threw his keys into the bowl next to him on the hall table, all the while looking at Leine.
“I was going to—”
“You were going to leave before I got home, weren’t you?” Santa brushed past her and walked into the apartment. “Easier, isn’t it?”
Leine dropped her overnight case and took a deep breath. “I have to go. Trust me, I understand your concerns. But the longer I wait, the harder it will be to find Elise.”
“The Bennetts took you off the case, Leine. She’s not your problem anymore.”
“She is my problem. So is every kid out there who’s scared and alone, who got themselves into some kind of trouble they can’t get out of.” Leine raised her hands. “If not me, then who’s going to look for them? I’ve got the skills. I’ve got the time.” She moved near Santa and cupped his scowling face with her hand. “I love you. You know that. I’m not running from us. I’m running to find her.”
“You’ll get hurt.”
“Welcome to my world.” Leine smiled faintly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How is this any different than what I get to deal with every day with your job?” she asked.
“I investigate murders. I’m not in the line of fire. You could have been killed.”
“You put yourself on the line when you investigate a murder. Any one of those murderers could find out who you are, where you live. Especially the ones you put away. We both know a killer’s reach can exceed his parameters.”
“It’s not the same,” he said, his expression sullen.
“Well, then, we’ll have to agree to disagree, won’t we?” Leine shook her head and gave him a kiss before walking back to her case. It was like kissing an immovable object. “You’re one stubborn cop, you know that?”
“Yeah.” He stepped in front of her, blocking the way. Dark eyes smoldering, he leaned toward her and returned the kiss, this one more demanding than the original. When he was finished, Leine leaned back, fanning herself.
“Is it warm in here?” she asked, looking around.
“Just remember what you’ve got.”
“Meaning?”
“Don’t take unnecessary risks. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Just then, the theme from The Godfather played from inside Leine’s purse. She put her case on the floor and fished out her phone, squinting at the number. Local, but not familiar.
“Leine Basso.”
“Is this same Leine Basso who receive favor from Vladimir Petrovich?”
Leine straightened at the deeply accented voice of the caller. “Yes,” she answered, suppressing a groan. Not now.
“Good. We meet. Tomorrow, eleven o’clock.”
“Actually, this isn’t a good time—I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Call me Nicholas.”
“Great. Nicholas. Look, I’m on my way out of town but would be happy to connect when I get back.”
“No. We meet. You will be tomorrow at IHOP near Santa Monica Pier. You know this place, yes?”
“Yes, but I—”
The line went dead.
“Shit.”
Santa cocked his head. “Who’s Nicholas?”
“Apparently a friend of a friend who expects me to meet with him.” Sighing in frustration, she returned the phone to her purse.
“Well, you’re leaving town, so call him back and make it for another day.”
“Yeah. I’ll give it a try on my way out.” Fat chance, Leine thought. Not if he’s a friend of Vlad’s.
She walked to the door and turned back. “Look, I—”
Santa held his finger to her lips. “I love you. Be safe.” He leaned over and kissed her again, this time gently.
“Thank you for understanding,” she said, and left.
***
Leine put her bag in the trunk before getting into her car. She did a search on her phone, hit the call button, and waited, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
“Nadja Imports,” said the woman on the other end of the line.
“Vladimir Petrovich. Tell him it’s Leine Basso.”
A few minutes later, Vlad came on the line.
“And to what good fortune do I owe this indescribable pleasure?” Vlad’s heavy Russian accent made him sound like a James Bond villain. Or possibly a character from a Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon. It was a tough call.
“I just got off the phone with one of your buddies. Someone named Nicholas?”
“Ah, yes. Is there problem?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t make good on our deal at the moment. I’m leaving town for a few days, but I will be available for whatever he needs when I get back.” And now I remember why I should never owe favors to Vladimir Petrovich, Leine thought. Back when she was looking for the runaway, Mara, Leine had stalled in her search and needed to know the whereabouts of Vlad’s nephew, Yuri. He’d delivered, but on the condition she would repay the favor to Vlad or one of his business associates when asked.
Vlad chuckled. “I should not remind a woman such as you how favor works.” Vlad’s amiable tone sharpened considerably. “I am calling favor. He is needing your expertise. Meet Nicholas. Do thing he asks. Then, we will be squared. This is correct term, yes?”
“Square. We’ll be square.” Leine rolled her eyes. Maybe what Nicholas wanted wouldn’t take too long. “Do you know what he wants me to do?”
“Is much better, Leine, this attitude.” The clink of glass followed by a gurgling liquid floated over the earpiece. There was a brief pause before Vlad smacked his lips and belched into the phone. “Is very simple. You go where is shipment of Nicholas, make sure is safe, then deliver to our people. No problems.”
No problems. Sure. What the hell kind of shipment is this that needs babysitting?
“Can’t the shipment wait?”
“Nyet. Is now.”
“And there’s no one else who can babysit?”
“Only great Leine Basso.”
“May I ask what the hell is so important?”
“You may ask.”
There was a long pause.
“You’re not working with me here. What happens if I say no?” A field of red flags sprang up in her mind.
“How is daughter? In Paris now, yes? Is happy with boyfriend, I think.”
“You’re not seriously going to use my child as a bargaining chip?” Leine could feel the heat rise in her face as a surge of anger flowed through her. “That’s pretty fucking low, Vlad.”
“Is very important, this shipment.” Vlad’s amiability had left the building. His voice had taken on a deadly serious tone.
She was damned if she was going to let him use her daughter’s life to blackmail her into doing his bidding. “You do remember what happened to the Frenchman’s son when he used April to get to me, right?”
There was a long silence, followed by the sound of another shot being poured. Then, “My people tell me some rat fucks are looking for woman who killed two Albanian nationals south of border, in Mexico. Do you know of this?”
Checkmate.
“How would I know anything about that?” Word travels fast on the criminal grapevine. “Are they sure it was a woman?”
“Da. I doubt there is more than one Leine
Basso.”
Leine clenched and unclenched her fist. Vlad had her twelve ways to Sunday. Even if he wasn’t sure it was Leine who shot them, he could let slip something about a former assassin living in LA who may or may not be the one they were looking for. They wouldn’t care if they’d identified the right shooter or not. As long as they got rid of someone who could’ve killed the two gunmen, vengeance would be served. And it wouldn’t take much for them to find her unless she went to ground.
She so didn’t need that kind of stress in her life.
With a deep sigh, she said, “Where do I need to go, and how long is this going to take?”
“Is short trip. Shipment is in Baja. Babysit, as you say, to Los Angeles, hand over to my people. Two days, maximum.”
“And who will I be working with in Baja?”
“Is associate,” Vlad said, his voice trailing off.
“An associate. Right.” Trying to get a straight answer from someone like Vlad was an exercise in frustration. “Vladimir Petrovich, you know I need more than that. You want me around for future projects, right? If I don’t come back from this, how can I be of use to you?” That’s it, Leine. Dangle more favors in front of him. He’ll bite. Although, she sure as hell wasn’t going to put herself in the same position again.
He didn’t have to know that.
“Da. Okay.” Vlad pulled in a deep breath and let it go. “The man you will be contacting is KLA shit.” He practically spit the words. “But, we do what we must, yes?”
“KLA. You mean the Kosovo Liberation Army? Didn’t they disband after the war?”
“Is active. Maybe use different name, but is KLA.”
The KLA had been instrumental in igniting war in the mid-to-late nineties in response to ethnic cleansing by the Serbs when Slobodan Milosevic was in power. There’d been reports of KLA involvement in drug running, arms dealing, and mass murder, culminating in charges of crimes against humanity. By the end of the conflict both sides stood accused, with the rape of hundreds, possibly thousands of Muslim women a particularly egregious consequence.
The Body Market: A Leine Basso Thriller Page 13