“The Belkins are capable of anything.” Alexei rose to his feet and stretched. “It’s been another long night. Get to bed, and we’ll debrief tomorrow.”
“I don’t think I ever thanked you.” She stood up beside him and curled her arms around his waist. “You saved me from that man and then you saved Jessie and probably a few other women by setting off the sprinklers.”
“I didn’t save those other women, Britt. They won’t be saved until the Belkin crime family is stopped.”
“Bring them all down.” She tapped her lower lip. “Find Tatyana’s baby.”
“I’ll leave that to you. I’m going to track down these weapons and see if I can discover the link between the Belkins and Vlad.” He gripped her shoulders and took a step back, away from her aura that seemed to swirl around him. “Get some sleep.”
She dropped her hands, releasing him. “What are you afraid of, Alexei?”
“I’m afraid of leaving you.”
She blinked. “People have been leaving me all my life—my father, my mother, my sister. You’re the surest thing I’ve had in a long time.”
Her words made his heart hurt, and he reached for her again. “Your father’s family took you in.”
“Oh, yeah.” She gave him a little wobbly smile. “Took me away from my baby sister, whom I’d been protecting since she was born, plopped me into the middle of some perfect family that always regarded me as the junkie’s kid. My uncle Jason took me in because he thought it was his duty, but he never loved me. And his wife?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that’s how it was for you.”
“Don’t get me wrong.” She placed her palms on his chest. “I was grateful for what they did. They were generous with their money, put me through school and wanted to pay for graduate school, but I refused that. They just weren’t so generous with their love.”
She unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and slid her hands inside, splaying her fingers against his bare skin. Her touch scorched him, and he ached with wanting her.
She leaned in, her voice low and husky. “We have a connection. If we explore that connection for one night or two or eight and then you have to leave me, I’ll consider myself blessed, not abandoned.”
“Anything can happen, moya solnishka.”
“I know.” She grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up and over her head. She dropped it in a heap at her feet. “And I’ve been meaning to ask you, what does moya solnishka mean?”
He ran a hand through the blond strands of her hair. “‘My sunshine.’”
Her luscious lips curved into a smile. “Then let me be your sunshine—even if it’s for one night.”
Chapter Twelve
Britt hung on to the heavy arm draped around her waist from behind. For being a reluctant lover, Alexei had taken to the task like a champ.
Stretching her legs, she wiggled her toes against his feet. She’d lied to Alexei. This one night or two or eight with him would never be enough, but she’d never tell him that.
If he believed he could be a better navy SEAL if he had nobody waiting for him, counting on him, loving him, she had to let him have that—even if he was wrong.
His father had been taken from his pregnant mother for doing the right thing, but fate didn’t always twist that way.
His breath warmed the back of her neck as he sighed.
She wriggled around to face him and watched him wake up. Would he recoil in regret once it sank in that he’d succumbed to his desires? Their desires?
He peeled open one eye and ran the pad of his thumb over a lock of her hair across her breast. “Moya solnishka.”
That answered that.
Cuddling into his chest, she said, “That’s not fair. I want a cool Russian nickname for you.”
“I like Russki, especially when you say it with that bad Russian accent.”
She laughed and then felt guilty as hell. What right did she have to be lying in this sumptuous bed with this sumptuous man when Leanna was God knew where? The same feeling had poked her each time she’d scored a goal in soccer or had gone on vacation or attended the prom. What right did she have to be happy when her sister had been stuck with some foster family?
Alexei stroked her back from her neck to her derriere, resting his hand on the curve of her bottom. “What’s wrong?”
“Here I am, living it up in a swanky Beverly Hills hotel with a hot guy in my bed, and my sister’s still missing.”
“And you should be doing what exactly that you aren’t already doing? You’ve put your life in danger countless times to find her.” He pulled her closer, hooking one leg over hers. “You’re doing enough, Britt. It’s not your fault your father’s people didn’t want to take in Leanna.”
How many times had her own therapist told her that? But when Alexei told her the same thing with his arms tightly wrapped around her, his breath hot in her hair, his hands caressing her flesh—she almost believed it.
She sniffled and rubbed her nose against his shoulder. “Speaking of taking on unrealistic burdens, are you going to contact the task force this morning with your findings and proposition?”
“Yeah.” He rolled onto his back and crossed his arms behind his head. “I’m almost afraid to.”
“Because you think they’ll tell you to stand down and they’ll send someone else out here to finish the task?”
“That about sums it up.”
“Then you have to let it go and trust others to do the job.”
Twisting his head to the side, he said, “Even if those others aren’t going to look into the sex trafficking and find out what happened to Leanna?”
She swallowed hard. Alexei had nailed it. If the people in charge told him to back away from the Belkins, she might never be able to track down Leanna. She had no illusions that she could go up against the Belkins herself, even if she found evidence that they’d...harmed Leanna. Even if she found that baby. Tatyana’s baby.
He nudged her head with his elbow. “Even then?”
“Even then. Maybe you could put in a word about the trafficking, about the baby.”
“Back to the baby.” He kissed the top of her head and then rolled out of the bed.
“You didn’t hear this woman on the phone. She sounded so sure of herself.”
“We don’t even know who called you. Did anyone give you any hints last night? Wink at you? Try to get you alone?”
“Only Stepan.”
Alexei stopped in midstretch. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry. It’s not just me. He’s interested in all the ladies.”
“I wonder how much he knows about what’s going on.”
“You planning on finding out?”
“Could be a good resource. A lot of times these low-level disgruntled drones are ripe for turning on their bosses.”
“Not sure I’d call Stepan one of those, but do you know who else I want to talk to?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Calvin, the homeless guy who hangs out near the Tattle-Tale. He obviously knows Leanna. Maybe he saw something. Maybe she told him something.”
“You’d better not be caught talking to him near the club. Irina already saw you two together. She might get suspicious.”
“Maybe I can lure him away with the promise of lunch.”
“Just be careful.”
“Can I lure you out with the promise of breakfast?” Stretching out her arms for him, she scooted to the edge of the bed.
Grabbing her hands, he pulled her to her feet and against his body. “Only if I can lure you into the shower first.”
She bared her teeth against his collarbone. “This hard body is the only lure I need.”
And just like that, Alexei made her forget everything for several blissful moments—but not before she sa
id a silent apology to Leanna and a prayer.
After breakfast, Britt watched Alexei zoom off on his motorcycle while she finished her coffee at the outdoor café on Sunset.
The baby in the stroller at the table next to hers gurgled and waved his sticky hand in her direction. She wiggled her fingers in response, and he rewarded her with a toothless smile. She melted just a little bit inside.
“He likes you.” Mom dabbed a trail of drool from the baby’s chin. “Do you and your husband have any children?”
Britt raised her eyebrows. “My husband?”
“Oh.” The woman glanced at the chair Alexei had vacated. “Sorry.”
“He’s my...” Britt waved her hand in the general direction of the empty chair. “...boyfriend.”
A rush of heat swept from her chest to her hairline. Why had she lied? She had slept with Alexei. That had to qualify as boyfriend status—if just for the day.
“That makes sense since the two of you still seem like you’re in that goo-goo-eyed stage.”
The warmth of Britt’s face deepened. If a stranger could figure out the way she felt toward Alexei, the man himself must be wondering what he could do to extricate himself from her...goo-goo eyes.
The woman’s friend returned to the table to save Britt any further embarrassment.
As the women gathered their things, Britt studied the baby. She needed to find a baby of her own. She waved at the little guy again as his mother pushed the stroller onto the sidewalk.
Why had the mysterious caller told Britt to find Tatyana’s baby? How did one lose a baby in the first place? The woman hadn’t mentioned finding Tatyana, just the baby. That seemed to indicate mom and baby weren’t together.
How could a mother be separated from her newborn baby? Britt’s hand tightened around her coffee cup. Death would separate a mother and baby. What would happen to a baby with a dead mother?
Britt had worked with clients who’d lost their children due to drug addiction, and Child Protective Services had always stepped in to take charge of those kids until mom and dad got clean and sober.
She tapped her fingernail against her cup. Maybe she could start there. LA was a big city, but how many Russian mothers had given birth in the past two months?
She glanced at the time on her phone. Before she got back to the hotel to do some research on her laptop, she had a stop to make at the Tattle-Tale—or at least the alley behind the Tattle-Tale.
Did Calvin hang out there all day or just at night? She’d seen him only at night, but then, she’d been at the Tattle-Tale only at night.
Alexei had already paid the bill and left the tip, so Britt scooted her chair back from the table and hiked up the street to her car. She drove to the club and parked around the corner.
Daylight didn’t do much to improve the alley, although more businesses had their doors open, and the midday sun expelled the lurking shadows and hidden corners.
She strode down the middle of the asphalt, veering to the right as a car rolled past her. As she approached the back of the Tattle-Tale, she peered around the corner of the Dumpster where Calvin usually parked his basket.
He’d found another location today, or maybe he had a different hangout during the day.
The back door of the Tattle-Tale burst open and Britt jumped, her hand to her heart.
“Hey, Barbie. You come to see me?” Stepan grinned as he hoisted a plastic garbage bag into the Dumpster.
“N-no.” Damn, what timing. “I was hoping someone would be here though. I wanted to check my time card. I think I forgot to clock out the other night.”
He stepped back and shoved the door wider. “What luck.”
She took a few tentative steps toward the open door, but Stepan didn’t budge. Instead, he swept his arm forward, ushering her inside the building.
Stepan wasn’t a big man, but he hadn’t left her much room, so she had to squeeze past him, getting a whiff of stale coffee and cigarettes from his breath.
“How about that mess last night, eh?” He let the door slam behind them, and Britt jumped again—this time internally.
“That was pretty crazy. Do you know if there was even a fire?”
“Just sprinklers. Faulty system maybe, but all those fine people ruined their fine clothes.”
His lips twisted into a sneer, and Britt thought about Alexei’s comment about disgruntled employees—not that she’d trust Stepan here and now. If Alexei wanted to feel him out, she’d leave that up to him.
“What are you doing here so early?”
“Little cleaning, little inventory.” His dull eyes narrowed as she made a beeline for the rack of time cards. “You can’t check your time card tonight?”
“I’m off tonight.” She flicked her time card out of the rack and squinted at it. “Oh, good. I did clock out.”
“Now that I have you here.” He stepped into the hallway, blocking her access to the back door. “You want to help a little behind bar? Just polishing glasses. I’ll tell Irina and you get some extra pay.”
She opened her mouth as every fiber in her body screamed No, but then the memory of Jerome sneaking behind the bar that first night she’d met Alexei flashed into her brain. She’d never been able to get behind the bar since that night without arousing suspicions.
“You know, I could use a few extra bucks.” She brushed her hands together. “What do you need?”
“The glasses get spots. Sergei don’t like spots.” He whipped a towel from his waistband and pressed it into her hands. “You go behind bar and check all shot glasses. Spots? You wipe clean.”
“I can do that. Didn’t have anything planned anyway.”
“Pretty girl like you, no boyfriend? No hot date?”
Oh, I have a hot Russian boyfriend, but only in my mind.
“I just moved to this area. I don’t know a lot of people.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “You knew Jerome.”
She sucked in a breath and held the towel to her face. “Don’t remind me. That was terrifying.”
“Not a good date.” He shook his head as if Jerome had planned to get murdered on their date.
“It wasn’t a date, really. He knew I was new to town.” She hunched her shoulders. “It was awful.”
“You saw it happen?”
He’d shuffled closer, and she couldn’t breathe. She’d been crazy to stay here with him.
“No.” She took a few steps back. “I couldn’t find parking. It was all over by the time I got out of my car and walked to Sunset. Not a great invitation to the city or to dating.”
“Better luck next time.”
She spun around and called over her shoulder. “I’ll get going on those glasses. What are you going to be doing?”
“Checking inventory in supply room.” He held up a clipboard.
Her pulse didn’t steady until she was behind the bar and she could hear Stepan banging around in the back. Aware of the camera watching her every move, Britt parked in front of a plastic dish rack of shot glasses and plucked out the first one.
She held it up to the light over the bar and rubbed it with the cloth Stepan had given her. She and Alexei had reviewed the footage from that night, and Jerome had been able to avoid the camera by ducking behind the bar near the sink. She’d do the same. Whatever Jerome had done that night, it hadn’t taken him long.
She worked her way through the rows of glasses in the first rack and then shuffled to the next one—one step closer to the sink. She finished that set and stationed herself in front of the third, right next to the sink and above the area where Jerome had been crouching that night.
With one row of glasses polished, Britt shook out the cloth and peered at it. She dropped it on the bar and squatted down on her haunches.
Stacks of cocktail napkins, pads of paper for orders, matchbooks and penc
il stubs littered the shelves beneath the bar.
She hunched forward and reached past a stack of coasters. Her fingertips brushed cold hard metal. She traced an oblong box with her hands and pulled it off the shelf, knocking several coasters onto the floor.
She set the strong box on the floor and flicked up the latch with trembling fingers. She lifted the lid and stirred the contents with her index finger. Old receipts and a few pictures of women in various stages of undress rustled and shifted in the box.
Could these pictures be important? Had Jerome taken them? She picked up a few and shuffled through them.
A broken plastic band fell on the floor, and Britt picked it up. She smoothed out the slightly curled bracelet against her knee, and her heart jumped as she saw the name Tatyana printed on the plastic.
Britt leaned back to get the band in the light, and as she read the words printed there, her blood ran cold. In her hands, she held Tatyana Porizkova’s hospital bracelet, dated about a month ago.
How had it gotten here? Was this hospital stay related to the birth of Tatyana’s baby? She snatched one of the receipts from the box and scribbled down the information from the bracelet.
“How’s it going?” Stepan called from the hallway.
Britt shoved the receipt and wristband into her pocket and closed the lid on the metal box. She replaced it on the shelf, arranging the other items in front of it, and popped up from behind the bar just as Stepan rounded the corner.
“I’m almost done with this third set of shot glasses.”
“Barbie, you’re slow. Can you do that whole row?”
“Sure I can.” She finished polishing the rest of the glasses with her mind racing. Jerome knew the bracelet was there but hadn’t wanted to take it in case someone noticed it was missing. Either that or he found it and put it there himself. But he wouldn’t have hidden something like that at the club. Was that what he’d planned on telling her the night he died? Was he going to tell her about Tatyana’s baby and the significance of that baby?
She could understand why the Belkins wouldn’t want one of their women to get pregnant, but why would they go to such great lengths to hide that pregnancy or even harm the pregnant woman and anyone who knew about the pregnancy? How could a little baby bring down a criminal organization like the Belkins’?
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