How had our city failed these women?
A female said to have matched Missy’s description was spotted at this location, so I had a couple of my men, Will and George, survey the premises. They were there now sending me live footage. None of the women even noticed my men had made their way inside the building. Or had they just gotten to the point of not caring any longer?
I shook my head and zoomed in on the live feed.
Several scantily clad women were sprawled on mattresses. A few more propped themselves up against the dingy walls, and a couple stood by a back door, smoking. At some point, the glass had been shattered in the door to gain entry.
This abandoned home was no longer an empty shell buried deep in the city, but the women who inhabited it certainly were. This was the type of place where drug transactions went wrong and deadly assaults wouldn’t rouse a response from anyone inside. They’d just roll over.
Maybe.
If they could muster enough strength.
The burdens of others’ sins had singed deeply in these women’s souls, and their own sins screamed to be forgiven, but no one was around to listen. Their only lifeline to the outside world was through their pimp as he ripped the cash away from their fingers and replaced it with drugs.
As I scanned the video, my eyes narrowed on one woman in particular.
If I stretched my imagination, I could see a slight resemblance between the woman on the screen and the councilman’s niece. I narrowed my eyes on the pinched, thin woman leaning against the wall. Stringy red hair draped along the woman’s emaciated features. Her lips were puckered. Missy’s hair was blonde, but this color was only a dye job away.
“Redhead to your right, Will. Zoom in,” I instructed.
I drew a breath as he zoomed in to where this woman sat, completely strung out.
“Not her,” I confirmed.
Her eyes were brown. Missy’s were blue, and this woman’s brow line was completely different.
My men wandered through the rest of the building, finding nothing.
It was time for them to get out.
“Better luck on the next run,” I told Will as I watched him and George turn around and make their way outside before he turned off the camera. “But I’d say it’s time to pay the man responsible. Put a couple of our men on him tonight. Make him rethink his career choice.”
“Yes, sir.”
I was left with a sick feeling in my stomach. I was dealing with a politician who wanted to hide the dirt of his family as he vowed to fix the city’s filth. The media had gotten ahold of his story and run with it, which only made my job more difficult.
The city was full of pimps and prostitutes, and dealers and addicts, with very few looking after either group.
“Hey there, early bird,” Greta’s voice echoed into my office. My gaze met hers. It was close to ten o’clock in the morning, but she knew by the logs that I’d been in since five.
The white-haired woman smiled and brought me out of my temporary funk. She was always a bright spot around the office, a bit of a mothering presence.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she teased.
Greta had worked for our family for more years than I could remember. She was in her sixties and had been threatening retirement for years, but I think she’d miss us too much if she quit coming into the office.
“I think I might have just witnessed the step before becoming an apparition.” I sat back in my chair, resting my hands behind my neck.
“Pardon?” Confusion settled over her features, and I waved my hand to dismiss my comment, realizing it wouldn’t make sense to anyone but me.
“We’re still trying to find out what happened to that councilman’s niece, and my guys came across a drug house. The images were—”
“Disturbing, I’m sure.” Greta sucked in a breath and shook her head. “Poor souls.”
“Indeed. They’re only a knock away from death’s doorstep.”
Greta nodded, but she obviously had something to tell me.
“There’s a woman here to see you. She’s not on your calendar, and I told her you were quite busy today.” Her brow arched. “Her name is Elena Egorov.”
A flicker of excitement darted through me.
I was unable to hide my surprise, and Greta immediately picked up on it. “Would you like me to have her make an appointment to see you?”
Greta knew I had no intention of sending Miss Egorov away. “I can seat her in the main conference room. The others are in use.”
“No. Bring her back and push off my appointments until after lunch.”
“Yes, sir.” Greta smiled and walked away.
I was curious to hear what in the world would bring Elena to my office, unless it had to do with the councilman. Hopefully, she wasn’t already being harassed by members of his team. There were many times when I wondered who the real criminals were in this world—the ones doing the crimes, or the ones inspiring them?
I stood and turned toward the glass. There were so many lives scurrying about on the streets and sidewalks. Mostly unaware of one another, the men and women of this city didn’t have a clue about the real evil that ran through the currents of everyday life.
They had no idea that the baker they got their favorite loaf of bread from also ran illegal betting out the back, or that the florist on the corner also sold weed and meth or whatever else the order of the day might call for.
To the untrained eye, life was simple and full of goodness, but anyone with a bit of experience dealing with the grit of the city knew differently.
People always assumed the dregs of the city weren’t their neighbors, but in many cases, they were wrong.
“Mr. Volkov?” Elena’s voice brought instant calm.
I turned around to see her standing in my doorway.
Elena was even more beautiful than I’d remembered. Her green eyes gleamed with a curious excitement as she waited for a reply. She was stunning in nothing more than a simple blue shirtdress belted at the waist. Her blonde hair hung below her collarbone and the top few buttons of the dress were undone.
“Elena, good to see you.” I motioned for her to come in and have a seat.
“Thanks for making time.” Her eyes stayed on mine, and I felt the same pull I had before.
I took a deep breath and nodded as she took a seat in front of my desk, my eyes quickly moving up her bare legs.
“It’s a surprise to see you here.” I brought my gaze to hers.
“Pleasant, I hope.” She sat up straighter and crossed her legs.
“To be determined.” I sat down, watching her take in everything about my office. She wasn’t hiding her curiosity. “So, what brings you here?”
“You were right,” she began.
“About what, in particular?”
“The councilman and his cronies. Two women came to see me a few days ago. One of them was Harner’s assistant campaign manager, Carmella Townsend.”
“Not surprised.” I nodded.
Truth be told, Elena was lucky it wasn’t one of Harner’s fix-it guys.
“They seemed to think veiled threats were an appropriate way to conduct business,” she continued.
I leaned back in my chair and took in Elena. She was dangerous, and I was far too eager to strip off…
“I have every mind to go to the police.” Her words brought me out of my blissful rumination.
I wasn’t sure what she expected me to do about this. I’d warned her about what the councilman knew, and even that warning was going too far, but she intrigued me, and I felt a need to protect her.
“And tell them what, in particular?” Placing my elbows on my desk, I steepled my hands together and moved forward in my chair.
“I don’t know. Maybe that I’m being harassed by a politician?” She shook her head. “It’s a free world. I’m allowed to travel where I want, when I want, and it’s really no one’s business. I shouldn’t have to be scared to open my door.”
“No, you shouldn’t
be,” I agreed. “Are you?”
“I’m not exactly fearful, but I’m concerned, and I don’t think some woman with a chip on her shoulder and an agenda to prove has the right to show up at my door and threaten me.”
“Until you stumble onto a possible kidnapping or murder case” —I watched her carefully, and her expression remained unchanged— “connected to a very powerful man running for reelection.”
“Is that how you see it?” she questioned.
“No, but I know it’s how the police will see it.” I loosened my tie, and Elena’s eyes followed my fingers.
I smoothed my hand along my jaw, and her gaze stayed on my lips a second too long. Getting her into bed might not be as complicated as I thought.
“So what made you really decide to stop by my office? If you wanted to go to the police, you could have done so days ago.” I knew the best way to get a woman like Elena into bed was to play hard to get, and the idea was becoming more and more appealing. “I’ve got a busy schedule for the rest of the day, so unless—”
“I’m a writer.” Her lips stayed parted as if she wanted to say more but thought better of it.
“Go on.”
“After the unpleasant visit from Ms. Townsend, I started digging a little.” She pulled a tablet out of a purse I hadn’t even noticed she’d brought with her, which was unsettling. I’d been so mesmerized by Elena, I hadn’t paid attention to what she had with her. “And I came up with a few things that were concerning.”
“The niece is a drug addict who has been known to do whatever she needs to do for her next fix. I’d say there are more than a few things that are concerning,” I told her.
Ignoring my comment, she slid forward in her chair and placed her notepad on my desk. I noticed the buttons on her dress pull near her breasts. My body tightened immediately, and I imagined what it would be like unbuttoning the rest and feeling their fullness in my palms.
“Did you know that she’d just enrolled at Monroe Community College? Up at their Brighton campus,” she informed me.
“Which is where?”
“Up in Rochester.” She flipped the page and glanced back up at me. “Does that seem like a girl hell-bent on getting high again? She’d just gotten out of rehab. This step looks like a girl who wants to start over. Begin again. Move out of the city that’s let her down so many times before.”
“Drugs do funny things to a person. The day she signed up for college, she might have fully believed that attending school was going to be her plan until the next day, when she got the itch to use.”
Elena’s eyes tapered. “I doubt that itch ever went away, Mr. Volkov, and I understand how a recovering addict’s choices are often driven by the drug.” She cleared her throat. “But she was seeing someone.”
Another surprise that Harner had failed to mention. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe he didn’t know.
“His name is Brent Carver.” She flipped the page. “He did a stint in rehab the same time she did.”
“Let me guess. He lives in Rochester?”
She nodded and drew a breath. “But what’s curious is that he hasn’t been active on social media since the day before Missy went missing.”
“When you say you’re a writer, do you mean journalist?”
“Did I go to journalism school? No.” She didn’t offer any more or any less.
“Why are you interested?” My brows arched.
“I wasn’t until I had a bunch of strangers show up unannounced at my door. It piqued my interest.” She shrugged. “The media has sensationalized every aspect of this disappearance, and I can’t imagine what this young woman’s parents are going through.”
I nodded, remaining silent.
“Have I helped?” she asked, squaring her shoulders slightly.
“What makes you think I’m the one you should be going to? You said yourself that you could go to the cops.”
“Because you were the one the councilman called. He obviously didn’t want this made public, but it went public. They didn’t want the police involved.”
“They’re involved now.”
“Only marginally.” Her answer was more of a suggestion than a certainty.
I couldn’t hide my smile. She was feeling me out, testing the waters. There was something more that she wanted out of this meeting. I just didn’t know what.
We all knew missing drug addicts generally didn’t garner much police time, but since this was a high-profile case, it got more attention than most, which still wasn’t saying much.
“True.”
“Does Harner actually want her found or did he just want her to go away?” She flashed a rueful smile, but I know there wasn’t an ounce of remorse in her for asking that question because she knew she was onto something.
“I can tell you the meeting I had with him isn’t up for discussion.” I clasped my hands together and watched the woman in front of me gauge my loyalty.
My God, she was even gorgeous when she scowled. As our eyes stayed connected, an exhilarating current ran through me.
“I have more information.” She put her notepad back in her purse. “But it doesn’t sound like it would prove useful.”
“Have dinner with me.”
Her lips parted, but she smacked them back together and glanced over my shoulder.
“Tonight,” I added.
She brought her green eyes back to mine, looking mildly interested in my proposition.
After a few seconds of silence, she gave a quick nod.
“Good. I’ll have my driver come by at eight.”
Elena grabbed her purse and stood.
“Dinner is at an event tonight that might be of interest.” I opened the middle drawer in my desk and searched for a pen. “It’s a fundraiser for Harner.”
I scribbled my private cell number on a piece of paper and handed it to her. The business card she had that had led her here didn’t have my personal number on it.
Her fingers touched mine as she reached for the note and her breath caught.
“I look forward to it.” A smile ghosted her entire expression before she turned to walk away without saying another word.
Chapter Seven
Elena
Jaxson’s arm looped around my waist as we walked up the stairs to the ballroom. A tuxedo skimmed his lean, muscular body, leaving very little to the imagination. From the moment I spotted Jaxson at my door this evening, it had been difficult to keep my mind from drifting to a place it shouldn’t. There were plenty of attractive men in the city to keep me occupied, and while I’d do what I needed to do for the story, even if that meant sleeping with him, I wouldn’t let myself fall under his spell.
My sister’s expression as I’d left the apartment flashed into my mind. She wasn’t thrilled that I’d accepted his invitation for tonight’s event, but the train was already rolling full steam ahead, and as she gave me one last wave, she shook her head in disapproval.
I pulled myself out of my funk and concentrated on my surroundings. If I tripped up tonight, there was far more at stake than just a bad date. Betrayal had never sat well with the Volkovs.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Jaxson whispered as two men several feet ahead held the double doors open for us.
A shiver ran down my spine as his mouth lingered near my ear, and I held my breath, fighting the sensation rolling through me.
It was pure pleasure.
The two men nodded toward us, and I noticed one’s gaze slide down my body like a serpent, and I was suddenly glad I had Jaxson by my side.
“Thank you.” I’d chosen a red silk gown with a slit running up my left thigh, a narrow waist, and a deep V-neckline that accentuated my curves. This dress was one of those frivolous purchases I never thought I’d find an occasion for, but I just couldn’t resist having it in my closet, and now I was happy I’d convinced myself to buy it because here I was, playing pretend with a Russian mobster.
I felt Jaxson’s grip around my waist tighten
slightly, and I glanced up to see his blue eyes taking me in as he stepped to the side, but he stood close enough to keep his hand on the small of my back as he guided me toward the waiting doormen.
My sister was right. There was something possessive about the way he looked at me.
“Shall we?” he asked.
I nodded and lifted my hand to his as he guided me through the doors.
The moment we stepped inside, I was speechless. I’d never seen anything like it before. Opulence oozed through the décor with crystal chandeliers hanging from above. Gold-encrusted vases and sculptures dotted the tables, and floral arrangements taller than me stood along the red carpet, but the crowning jewel was the white rose flower wall stretching as far as the eye could see.
I glanced at Jaxson, who was taking in my reaction.
“All this for a councilman’s reelection?” I whispered, my brow arching. “This verges on presidential to me.”
“This election is important to a lot of people.” Jaxson continued to eye me as a server came over to us with a tray full of champagne. Jaxson grabbed two flutes of sparking gold and handed me one. “A lot of very rich people.”
I took a sip and closed my eyes, enjoying the bubbles, before flicking my eyes open. “Seems to me the money would be better spent running advertisements or funding grassroots efforts to get his agenda out.”
“His donors would much prefer to see, touch, and drink their donations away.” Jaxson shook his head.
“Do you prefer that?” I asked.
“I’m not a donor.” He winked and took a sip of the champagne as an older woman slowly walked over to us. “I can think of a lot I’d rather do with my money than feed it to some politician’s ego.”
“Tell me how you really feel.” I giggled and his smile only grew.
I hated how at ease he made me feel.
The older woman stood in front of us dressed in a dazzling blue dress wrapped around her curvy figure. The silver high heels she wore probably cost more than a month’s rent at my apartment. She was gorgeous, with her dark hair swept into a loose bun and her olive skin giving her an all-over glow. She eyed Jaxson for a few seconds before turning her sharp gaze to me.
Jaxson: A Romantic Suspense (V Mafia Series Book 3) Page 5