“It was a warning. They have no idea what you know or why you’re talking to Calvin. They do know Calvin hangs out behind the Tattle-Tale. He may have seen things, even if he doesn’t understand what those things mean. They don’t want you or anyone else talking to Calvin and getting any ideas. Of course...” He smooshed a piece of piecrust with the tines of his fork.
“Of course what?”
He flicked Tatyana’s hospital band with his finger. “You did take this.”
“I wasn’t thinking. I had it in my hand, and Stepan was coming. Maybe I should put it back.”
“Not now.”
“Maybe they won’t be looking for it. It seems like someone tossed it in that box as an afterthought. Jerome just ran across it because that’s his domain. They wouldn’t think it would mean anything to anybody.”
“And yet it did mean something to Jerome—and it got him killed.”
Britt licked her lips and took a gulp of her soda. “We don’t know that. Due to your mad video skills, Sergei never saw Jerome return to the club that night and crouch below the bar.”
“They could’ve seen him before. Maybe that’s not the first time he looked at that wristband. Are you working tomorrow night?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go in.”
“I could put the bracelet back.”
He shook his head. “An even worse idea.”
“What about you?” She slumped in her seat and ripped a piece of crust from her sandwich. “Any luck?”
“As a matter of fact.” He held up his index finger. “Wait—I haven’t checked my messages.”
“You communicated with Ariel? You found something?”
As he pulled his phone from his pocket, he said, “My new friend introduced me to a cache of weapons he has on the market, but only in limited quantities because he already has a big order.”
“The Belkins?”
He glanced down at his phone and smacked the table. “Yes!”
“You have the okay from Ariel?”
He huddled closer to Britt over the table and read from the text. “‘Sounds promising. Proceed.’”
“That’s it?”
“There’s an attachment with more info. I’ll read it when we get back to the hotel.” That knot he’d had between his shoulder blades melted away, and he took a big bite of pie.
“That’s great, Alexei. You’re official now.”
“That’ll mean a lot when it comes to resources. I’ll have the whole CIA and FBI behind me now—or at least the parts that Ariel can tap into.”
“I gather the Vlad task force itself is pretty hush-hush within these agencies?”
“Need to know, which is why you know just about everything. You’re in this up to your neck.” He picked up Tatyana’s wristband by one jagged edge. “We’re going to start using my newfound legitimacy with this.”
“How?”
“We have hackers who can search a hospital’s database. We’re going to find out exactly why Tatyana was in the hospital, when and what happened to her baby.”
“If my informant was right, finding the baby could cause havoc for the Belkins, and then they won’t be in any position to negotiate with Vlad or anyone else.”
Alexei drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t know how one baby could impact the Belkin crime family. If the baby belongs to some john, I don’t know how we prove that, and even if we do, hookers and escorts have babies every day. It’s not going to hurt the Belkins.”
“I don’t know. Maybe my source will call back. Maybe she works at the Tattle-Tale. That’s why I have to keep going back there.” Britt picked up her phone from the table. “I’m going to call the hospital to see if I can find out anything about Calvin. Which one do you think he’s at?”
“Cedars-Sinai—same hospital as Tatyana.”
Britt widened her eyes. “That’s perfect. I think we need to pay Calvin a visit.”
“Are you up for that?” He shoved the pie plate at her. “At least finish my pie. You deserve pie for getting kicked in the ribs.”
She wolfed down the last three bites and ended up with meringue on her chin.
He dabbed his finger on her face and sucked the sweetness into his mouth. “I’m gonna put that down to you not being able to feel your face after getting punched.”
She smiled and grabbed his hand. “I’m glad you’re legit now, Russki...and not just because of the perks.”
“I am, too, but it doesn’t mean I’m not taking Olav Belkin down—for good.”
“I know that.” She squeezed his hand. “But now it’s sanctioned.”
Sanctioned or not, Belkin was a dead man, but the fire that had roared in his chest every time he thought about Belkin had died down to a kindling. He still wanted to avenge his father’s murder at Belkin’s hands, but over the past week his passion had burned for a different cause—keeping this woman safe from harm.
* * *
AS ALEXEI DROVE her car to the hospital, Britt’s jaw ached, and she had one arm wrapped around her midsection, pressing against her sore ribs. Maybe she should be checking in herself.
If Alexei hadn’t found her, how far would that homeless guy have gone? What marching orders had Sergei or Irina given him?
The strikes against her had been piling up. The Belkins knew she’d been in the vicinity when they’d murdered Jerome. Someone had seen her in that hallway where she witnessed Jessie, drugged and compromised. Irina had caught her talking to Calvin, and now she and Calvin had both paid in blood for that conversation.
What next? Would they finger her as the person who’d taken Tatyana’s hospital wristband? Did Sergei even know the wristband was in that metal box? It seemed like a foolish place to hide evidence that could destroy an entire criminal operation.
Or maybe that phone call from the Russian woman had been a hoax just to play her.
She slid a glance at Alexei, hunched over the steering wheel to maneuver through LA traffic. Had he thought of that already? Probably. He didn’t miss much, including her insane attraction to him.
Now she had to make good on her promise that she could have a fling with him and then let him go. The sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it.
“I know. Traffic is bad, but we’re almost there.”
“Emergency room, right?”
“We’ll start there.”
After parking the car on the rooftop of the parking structure, they made their way into the crowded emergency room and walked to the reception desk.
Britt folded her hands on the counter. “Excuse me. I saw...two men at the corner of Gower and the 101 off-ramp badly beaten and unconscious. I called 911 from my car but couldn’t stop. I was wondering if they were okay. Can you tell me anything?”
The nurse at the desk didn’t look up from her computer. “Are you a relative?”
“No, just a concerned citizen.”
The nurse lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted attempt at sympathy. “We can’t give out any information on patients. You can try calling the police. That would be LAPD’s Hollywood Division.”
Britt bit her bottom lip. “Can you at least tell me what floor Maternity is on?”
That got her attention. The nurse glanced up. “Ninth.”
“Thanks.”
Alexei put his hand on the small of her back and steered her out of the waiting room. When they reached the hallway, he stabbed the elevator button with his knuckle. “That was a waste of time.”
She huffed out a breath as she stepped into the elevator car. “Try to do a good deed.”
“Do you expect to have any better luck up there?” He jabbed his thumbs upward. “If anything, Maternity is going to be even more cautious.”
“I just want to look around as long as we’re here.”
“I can get the info on Tatyana faster through my sources.”
“We drove, we parked, we failed. Now we’re here, so let’s have a look.”
Alexei saluted. “Right, chief.”
“I like that other name better.”
The elevator bumped and then settled on the ninth floor. They stepped out of the car, and the cheerful vibe lifted Britt’s spirits. She bumped Alexei’s shoulder with her own. “This sure beats the emergency room.”
“Babies.” He pointed down the hallway to a glassed-in room.
Britt approached the window and placed both hands on the glass. “Just look at them all. Getting ready to face the world.”
“Everything ahead of them.”
Britt began dragging her finger across the smooth pane of glass. “Rodriguez, Miller, Schwartz, Gomez, Rousseau.”
Not all the babies were currently occupying their bassinets. Must be with their moms. She continued reading the names on the labels until she stumbled across a familiar one. She grabbed Alexei’s arm. “The baby. Tatyana’s baby.”
“Where?” His body stiffened beside her.
“In the back row.” She tapped on the window. “It’s empty, but it says Baby Porizkova.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. Do you see it? The label is pink. She had a girl.”
“Could Tatyana still be here?” Alexei glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting to see her in the hallway behind them.
“I don’t know. Do you think Jerome was wrong about her death? We can’t very well poke our heads into all these rooms.”
A nurse with a clipboard under her arm came up to the nursery door and entered a code on the keypad.
“Excuse me?”
Alexei had nudged her in the back, but it was too late. The nurse turned at the door. “Yes?”
The nudge turned to a pinch, but Britt carried on anyway. “Where is the Porizkova baby?”
The nurse’s eyes grew big, and Britt’s stomach sank. At least Alexei had stopped jabbing her.
“Are you a relative?”
There it was again, that magical hospital word that opened doors and got you private information. Alexei spoke Russian. Maybe he could pose as a relative.
She took a breath, and Alexei’s knuckle drove into her back, just below her sore ribs. He must’ve read her mind.
“N-no, but the name is familiar. My sister has a Russian friend, and I thought it might be the same person.”
As wide as the nurse’s eyes were a minute ago, she’d turned them into slits. “Was this friend pregnant?”
Alexei stepped beside her, his body vibrating with tension. “No. She wasn’t pregnant. I don’t even think that’s the same name. You know those Russian names—always sound the same.”
The nurse cocked her head. “What are you doing here?”
“We went to check on a friend in Emergency, and I thought it would be fun to look at the newborns.” Britt giggled and patted her aching belly. “The old biological clock is ticking, I guess.”
The nurse cracked a tight smile. “I’m sure you understand why we don’t want strangers wandering around the nursery.”
“Of course.”
Alexei took Britt’s arm. “Let’s go see if Bob is ready to go yet.”
He marched her down the hallway to the elevator with an iron grip on her wrist, as if he were afraid she’d run back to the nursery.
They stood shoulder to shoulder at the elevator, but Britt didn’t dare say a word.
An older woman joined them, a canvas bag over her shoulder. “So sad for that little one.”
Britt’s gaze took in the woman head to toe. Not a nurse. She had a volunteer badge pinned to her sweater.
Britt gave her an encouraging smile, the kind she used to get her clients to divulge their deepest, darkest secrets. “The little Porizkova baby?”
“Yes. I heard you asking about her.” She shook her gray curls. “Poor little mite doesn’t have a mother.”
“D-did her mother die in childbirth?”
“Worse.” The volunteer pursed her lips.
What could be worse than death? Britt gave Alexei a quick glance. “What happened to her?”
“She up and walked out of the hospital after her little girl was born. Didn’t say a word to anyone. Just up and disappeared.”
“Oh.” Britt put a hand to her thundering heart. “That’s terrible. Maybe she didn’t have a choice. At least she didn’t abandon the baby later.”
The woman sniffed. “Could’ve gone through the regular channels for adoption.”
“Her baby’s still here?”
“She was a preemie.” The woman patted her bag. “I ought to know. I knit a cap for her. I knit all sizes, and that little one took the smallest size. I also cuddle the newborns, and that one’s a sweetie.”
Britt noticed Alexei wasn’t poking her in the back during this conversation. “How long has the baby been here?”
The elevator doors opened, and Alexei held them open for the old woman.
“About a month. She’s almost ready to leave, but where will she go without a mother?”
“I’m sure she’ll be adopted by a loving family.”
The woman spent the rest of the elevator ride talking about her knitting and the other newborns. When they parted ways in the parking structure, Britt turned to Alexei.
“What do you think happened?”
He put a finger to his lips. “Wait until we get to the car.”
When they reached the nearly empty top level of the structure, Britt finally took a breath. They walked to the car, and Alexei opened the door for her. She slid inside, her knees bouncing as she waited for him to come around the other side.
When he shut the door, she rounded on him. “We did it. We found Tatyana’s baby.”
He ran his hands over the steering wheel but didn’t start the car. “I don’t think she left that baby on her own.”
“Do you think the Belkins took her out of the hospital?”
“I’m sure of it. They probably would’ve taken the baby, too, if they could’ve made it past the dragon nurses.”
Britt shivered. “Thank God for the dragon nurses. Do you think they’ve tried to take the baby?”
“Maybe that’s why the nurse went on high alert when you expressed interest in the Porizkova baby. That or she was going to call the police to question you.” He smoothed a hand down her thigh. “Sorry for poking at you. That’s what I was trying to avoid—questioning by the police.”
“Yeah, that would’ve been a disaster.” She yanked at her seat belt. “I think my sister knew something about this baby. Like you said before, if it were the trafficking and escort business, the Belkins could’ve gotten around that. There’s something about that baby. Could the baby be addicted to drugs? Would the Belkins worry about that?”
Alexei’s nostrils flared and his eyebrows collided over his nose. He yanked the keys from the ignition.
“Britt, get out of the car!”
“What?” Already on edge, she’d grabbed the handle.
“Out of the car! It’s gonna blow.”
The force of his voice pumped a flood of adrenaline into her system, and she pushed against the door. It swung open. She tumbled out.
Alexei was still shouting, so she sprinted away from the car and waved at two people heading her way. She panted, “Stay back.”
She didn’t even hear her second word above the deafening explosion behind her. As the blast propelled her several feet forward and she hit the cement, she had just one thought. Alexei.
Chapter Fourteen
Britt’s ears were ringing, but she could still hear the woman several feet away screaming. She raised her head, propping her chin on the cement floor of the parking structure, her head swimming. The two p
eople who’d been walking toward her were still on their feet, but their white faces were a study in shock.
Groaning, Britt rolled over, her sore ribs making it hard to breathe—or maybe that was the acrid black smoke drifting toward her. Had Alexei made it out alive?
As she blinked her eyes, Alexei’s face floated above her, and she sobbed out his name.
“Britt!” He dropped beside her. “Are you all right?”
She sat up, clutching her midsection. “I am now. Was anyone hurt?”
“There weren’t that many cars up on this level. Nobody on my side.” He tipped his head toward the two people by the elevator, hugging. “They got lucky. You saved their lives.”
“You saved my life.” She held up her purse, still hanging over her shoulder. “I’ll call 911.”
“Let them do it. Let’s get out of here.”
“My car.”
“Destroyed. You don’t want to explain to the police why the car of a waitress at the Tattle-Tale was sabotaged. We don’t want the police nosing around and revealing your true identity...or mine, until we can get what we need from the Belkins.”
“Won’t the police track the car to me anyway? Or at least to Barbie Jones?”
“Not if I, or the task force, have anything to say about it.” He wrapped his arms around her gently. “Can you stand up?”
“Yes.” She leaned on Alexei, and he rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. Her legs wobbled like cooked spaghetti, but she grabbed his arm and the world steadied.
As they passed the couple, still clinging to each other, Alexei held up his phone. “You okay? We’re going to call 911.”
They both nodded, still in shock.
They weren’t the only ones. Britt hung on to Alexei as he bypassed the elevator. On their way down the stairs, they met a few people rushing up to the rooftop parking level.
One man asked them, “What happened?”
“Some couple’s car exploded. They’re okay though. Nobody hurt.” He brushed past the man, towing Britt along with him.
When they reached the street level, Britt finally felt like she could breathe, and she scooped in a big breath even though her ribs protested.
She grabbed Alexei’s hands. “Do I look as messed up as you do?”
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