3 Bad Guys Get Caught

by Marie Astor

  The stewardess passed by their seats. “Please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for takeoff.”

  Dennis pulled away reluctantly. “Once we land, I’m going to make love to you nonstop.”

  “Are you challenging me to a sex marathon, Dennis Walker? ‘cause if you are, I’m totally up for it.”

  “Do you have to turn everything into a challenge, Janet?”

  “Only the fun things.”

  “In that case, you’re on.”

  The plane’s engines roared as it glided into motion. Janet grabbed Dennis’s hand. “Takeoff is my favorite part. Makes me feel like I’m a kid in an adventure park.”

  Dennis brought her hand to his lips. “You’re amazing. You know that?”

  “You’re pretty amazing too, Dennis.”

  As the plane took off, Janet let her mind wander to the events of last night. Despite Falk’s concerns, she wasn’t suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. It might come back to haunt her later, but for now, she found it surprisingly easy to move past her emotionally charged experience during the FBI raid. She knew the reason behind her seamless recovery: it was thanks to Dennis being by her side. The memory of last night was still with her.

  Since the two of them had been together Dennis had made love to her countless times, but none had been as intense as last night, and it wasn’t because of her adrenaline affected state. She’d be the first to admit that her senses were heightened last night, but there was more to it than that. The ecstasy of the physical encounter had been off the charts, but the intimacy between them had been simply spellbinding. She had never felt as close to Dennis as she had last night, when he told her that he loved her. It didn’t matter that he’d fallen asleep before he heard her say that she loved him too; there’d be plenty of chances for her to tell him.

  Chapter 20 (Two Months Later)

  Mila Brabec hit the snooze button on the alarm clock and rolled over to the other side of the bed. A few more minutes and she would get up and get ready for work. She’d zonked out for an afternoon nap, but it was four o’clock now, and she had to be at work at five. She loved her job, which was a new thing, but a surprisingly good sensation for her. She loved waking up in her own bed; no man to foot her bills or buy her presents, but only herself to count on and only herself to answer to. It was a scary feeling, but it was also liberating.

  Mila swung her legs to the side and got up. She stretched lazily and headed over to the bathroom, which she reached in three steps. The entire apartment was no more than twenty feet in length, but it was her own. Well, technically it was a rental, but as long as she paid the rent, she considered it her own. She had furnished it with furniture from IKEA and kept it clean and cozy. The building had an elevator, and most importantly, it was walking distance to her job, which considering the amount of hours she was putting in was a big plus. Mila didn’t mind the long hours; it felt different working for herself. She turned on the water in the shower and got in. She relished the hot spray on her skin. It was as though she was rediscovering every sensation for herself; even the most mundane things had acquired new dimensions, filling her days with countless small pleasures. When one spends over a month in a tiny hotel room with no one else for company but a bunch of very terse FBI agents, one’s perspective on life is bound to change.

  She knew she was lucky to get the deal that she got. Now, thinking back, it scared her to realize how stupid she had been. She had been playing with fire, and she was lucky to escape with only the tips of her hair singed. She did get some money after all; not the ten million she’d set her eyes on, but one hundred thousand, courtesy of the FBI. Apparently, they thought her input worthy of some reward after all. Of course if she had come to the FBI of her own volition, she would have gotten a cool million, which was the reward for information on Muller’s money. Not that Mila had been aware of its existence in the first place; she wasn’t in the habit of surfing FBI websites. As it were, the FBI rescinded the reward, but saw it fit to pay her a sum of one hundred thousand as part of the witness protection program so that she could get back on her feet. She thought it was mighty generous of them, and they also took care of her visa. After all, that fella Dennis didn’t get anything, or at least that was what he had told her. She hadn’t heard from him since and neither had she heard from Janet, not that she wanted to. That part of her life was over, and she didn’t want anything or anyone from her past to remind her of it.

  The only person she kept in touch with was Amy. “Kept in touch” was really too loose a term; they saw each other every day. They kind of had to since they owned a bar together. The FBI’s reward had been enough for Mila to get a minority partnership stake in Amy’s new bar. At first Amy was going to call it Amy’s, but when Mila asked her about partnering up, Amy insisted on changing it to Amy and Mila’s. Mila was surprised by how much she enjoyed the work. Her waitressing experience had paid off; she knew how to keep the clients happy and keep them coming back for more. Maybe this had been her calling from the beginning: not finance, not modeling, not being some rich guy’s wife, but running a bar, serving good drinks, and shooting the breeze with the customers. She liked it just fine.

  But most importantly, for the first time since she came to New York, Mila liked her life as it was. Sure, there were still things she wanted: to pay off the mortgage on the bar, to own her own apartment, to make Amy and Mila’s the hottest bar in New York. She no longer thought of her current life as temporary; she was living every moment of it, keenly aware of all its flavors and sensations. She fought with every fiber of her being to make her goals a reality.

  Mila toweled off and got out of the shower. She dressed into a simple attire of jeans and a knit top, applied a dusting of powder to her face and a coat of mascara to her eyelashes and was out the door.

  Fifteen minutes later, Mila walked into Amy and Mila’s. Amy was already behind the bar, checking on the liquor supplies.

  “Hey there, partner,” Amy called over her shoulder.

  “How is it looking?” Mila asked, joining Amy behind the bar stand.

  “If things keep up at this rate we’ll have to double our restocking schedule. I think tonight’s bachelorette party will make a big dent. I’d better go downstairs and order a few more cases right now.”

  “Sounds good.” Mila got started on shelving the glasses. During the month that they had been in business, things had been going surprisingly well. The atmosphere at Amy and Mila’s was casual, but hip, attracting a mixed crowd of young professionals, students and those who considered themselves to always be young at heart.

  Mila glanced at the clock: it was five p.m. They had about an hour before the after work crowd would pile in. Just then the door opened.

  “Come on in, we’re open!” Mila called over to the hesitant customer.

  “Mila?” Ania Brabec walked into the bar.

  Mila didn’t flinch. “Hi there, Ania. So I see you finally decided to take me up on my offer to stop by.” She had not seen Ania for two months; she didn’t tell her about the whole ordeal with the FBI. Instead she invented a story that she was taking a trip to visit the national parks to clear her mind and get over the breakup with Anton. She had told her cousin about the bar as soon as she had gotten out of protective custody, but Ania had not deemed to stop by until now.

  “I was in the neighborhood.” Ania shifted on her feet. She looked like she had gained some weight since Mila had seen her last; must be all those French restaurants she was so fond of.

  “Mila, do you need help over there?” Amy’s voice was shrill with concern as she came back upstairs.

  “I’m fine,” Mila called over.

  Amy got the hint. “I’m going back to the stockroom to check on supplies. Call me if you need me.”

  “Will do.” Mila shot her a grateful smile. “Would you like a drink?” she asked Ania.

  “I can’t stay long. Daniel will be here any minute. I suppose I could have one drink.”

  “What will it
be?” Mila asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t really drink. A glass of pinot noir?”

  “Let me make you a cocktail.”

  “Oh, no!” Ania protested. “I can’t drink the strong stuff. It makes my face get all red.”

  Mila knew it only too well. She remembered how back in Prague, before Ania got married to her fancy husband, she had had too many vodka shots at their cousin’s wedding and her face got covered in purple blotches. Since then, Ania stuck to wine. “Don’t worry,” Mila assured her. “I won’t make it too strong. It’s my personal recipe.”

  Mila proceeded to mix the ingredients for the cocktail of her own invention they had listed as “Flirty Mila” on the cocktail menu. She could guess that Ania’s initial intent had been to embarrass her by making her serve her. Ania had done it before when she had shown up at Panther with Daniel and had Mila seat them at their table; Mila still remembered the sting of shame she had felt at the time. Now it was Ania who was embarrassed, and Mila was the one in command. This was her place, and Mila was there because she wanted to be. Ania was nothing more but a guest there; Mila would serve her just like she did her other customers, nothing more.

  “Here, try it.” Mila slid the glass towards Ania.

  Ania tentatively raised the glass to her lips and took a small sip. “Mmm, very nice!” She took a longer sip.

  “Glad you like it.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Rum and muddled cucumbers.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Plus a few other ingredients. If I start giving away secrets of the trade, I won’t be a very good businesswoman, will I?”

  “So how is business?” Ania asked.

  “It’s going well. We’ve been real busy.”

  “It doesn’t look very busy now.”

  Good old Ania, Mila thought, always there to poke. “It’s early. In an hour this place will be packed.” Just then the door opened and Mila smiled inwardly. This ought to shut Ania up.

  “Daniel! Over here!” Ania twirled her fingers. “Well, at least you got one more customer.”

  Daniel Bauer’s rounded frame plodded towards them. “Mila! How wonderful to see you!” Daniel smooched her with his pudgy lips.

  Out of politeness Mila resisted the urge to wipe her cheek. She had never realized before that Daniel’s face with its telescopic glasses very much resembled that of a fish. She wondered how Ania kissed him; the idea seemed repulsive. “Would you like anything to drink, Daniel?” she asked him.

  “Oh, maybe a glass of white wine.”

  “Ask her for one of her special cocktails!” Ania raised her glass.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you through any trouble. A glass of white will do just fine.”

  “It’s no trouble, Daniel. I’ll be happy to make it for you.” Mila mixed up the cocktail while Daniel looked around. “Here you are.” She placed the glass in front of him.

  “I’m parched from walking around the city all day. I was looking for the subject for my new documentary.” Daniel took a long swallow. “This is really excellent stuff.”

  “Thanks.” Mila smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

  The door opened and several people walked in.

  “Excuse me a moment.” Mila went over to greet the new customers. Once she took their drink orders, she turned her attention back to Ania and Daniel. “Would you like another drink?”

  “Oh no, thank you,” Daniel replied. “This is really quite excellent. I love the décor. It’s got real pizazz.” Daniel eyed the combination of wooden paneling, exposed brick, and tiled mosaics. “Did you hire a decorator?”

  Mila shook her head. “We did it all ourselves.” Amy had done all the decorating, or in other words, left as much of the original detail as possible. The exposed brick came with the place, but they added the paneling and the mosaics.

  “You should’ve called me,” Ania cut in. “I could’ve recommended a decorator.”

  “I think it’s a good thing that she didn’t, dear.” Daniel patted Ania’s hand. “You’ve got an amazing place here. I just got an idea! Why don’t I do my next documentary about your bar?” exclaimed Daniel with a sweeping gesture.

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. That’s not your usual subject matter,” Ania butted in.

  “Precisely!” Daniel exclaimed. “It’s time I changed things up. What do you say, Mila?”

  “What do you say to what?” Amy had joined the conversation before Mila had a chance to reply.

  “Daniel wants to do a documentary on us,” Mila explained.

  “I think I could get it aired on PBS,” Daniel added proudly.

  “Hell, yeah!” Amy’s voice was filled with excitement. “Maybe you could get it aired on the Food Network also.”

  “That’s an excellent idea!” Daniel adjusted his glasses. “I didn’t even think of that. I have a friend there who’s in charge of programming. I will give him a call. It will introduce my documentary to a whole new market. I’m going to start making some notes right now.” Daniel got off his chair and began examining the walls, as though hoping to find inspiration for his script there.

  “Super! It would be really great exposure for us!” Amy cheered. “High five, Mila!”

  The only one looking unhappy was Ania who merely pursed her lips and sipped her drink.

  “Would you like another drink?” Mila asked her cousin.

  Ania shook her head. “No, thank you. I think it’s time for us to get going, Daniel. We don’t want to be late for dinner with the Watkins.”

  “Isn’t that tomorrow?” Daniel asked, clearly reluctant to leave.

  “No, it’s today,” Ania insisted.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s tomorrow. In any case we can’t leave without Philip.” Daniel sat back in his chair with an airy of finality.

  “Who is Philip?” Ania asked.

  “An old friend of mine,” Daniel’s voice grew impatient.

  Ania didn’t give up. “Well why is he coming here?”

  “Because I wanted him to meet Mila. It was supposed to be a surprise,” Daniel snapped.

  Mila felt a stab of irritation. A few months ago she would’ve jumped at the offer, but now she no longer had time for Daniel Bauer’s snotty friends. “Oh, Daniel, thank you. You needn’t worry about me. I’m doing just fine.”

  “You see?” Ania added. “I’m sure Mila has to fend off suitors with a stick in here.”

  “Yes she does,” Amy said defensively.

  “Amy!” Mila flushed. Discussing her personal life in front of Ania and Daniel was unpleasant to say the least.

  “It’s true!” Amy persisted. “There’s this banker guy who’s been coming here three times a week, begging Mila to go out with him. He even offered to invest in our bar, but she wouldn’t budge. He’s real hot; I’d sleep with him. There were plenty others, too.”

  “I don’t have time for dating right now,” Mila said tersely.

  “Don’t have time for dating?” A tall man in his mid-thirties approached the bar stand. “Then how are you ever going to find your soul mate?” he added, his blue eyes twinkling at her. There was a twang of Down Under accent in his speech: either New Zealand or Australia.

  “Excuse me?” Mila placed her hands on her hips, about to break her rule of never being rude to customers.

  Daniel intervened, “Philip! Finally! I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

  “Dan the man!” The Down Under jackass slapped Daniel on the back. “I almost got lost; man, it’s a maze in this part of town.”

  Daniel grinned. “Don’t tell me that while you were playing cowboy on that farm of yours in New Zealand you forgot your hometown!”

  “Cowboy? Who said cowboy?” Amy eyed Philip appraisingly.

  “I’m afraid Daniel used a misnomer. Cowboys tend to horses. My farm only had windmills on it,” the jackass clarified.

  Amy’s eyes flashed as she nudged Mila. “How exciting! And what brings
you to New York?”

  Mila rolled her eyes; another energy entrepreneur thinking that he was God’s gift to humanity.

  “Family money wasn’t enough for him since Philip here wanted to make a name for himself, so he went off to New Zealand and turned a failing sheep farm into one of New Zealand’s largest alternative energy providers. Now that he’s sold it at a hefty profit, he’s looking for a new adventure in New York.”

  “This is all very fascinating, but if you’ll excuse me, I have to go check on our customers,” Mila said.

  “I’ll do it!” Amy dashed off, leaving Mila stuck.

  “Daniel, you have such exciting friends!” Ania exclaimed. “I’m Ania by the way, Daniel’s wife.” She extended her hand to Phillip, and he shook it gingerly.

  Daniel fumbled with his watch. “I think it’s time we got going, Ania. We don’t want to be late for our dinner with the Watkins.”

  “Oh, I just checked my calendar. You were right—it is tomorrow,” Ania replied, clearly reluctant to leave.

  “Well then, there’s a camera store I was interested in checking out on the way, and I wanted to get there before they close.” Daniel got up, making it clear that the conversation was over.

  “Goodbye, thank you so much for stopping by.” Mila waved at them.

  “Keep up the good work, Mila, and I’ll be seeing you soon.” Daniel kissed her on the cheek.

  “Let’s have lunch sometime,” Ania offered. “I’ll call you.”

  Mila nodded. “Sounds great.” If she didn’t see Ania for another two months, she wouldn’t miss her one wink. “Are you sure you can’t stay for another drink?” she asked. As much as she disliked Ania, the thought of being left alone with Philip was even more unnerving.

  “No, no, we really must be going,” Daniel insisted, grabbing Ania by the elbow and steering her towards the door.

  Mila fumbled with the liquor bottles. “What would you like to drink?” she asked Philip. This was a bar and if he was going to hang around, he’d better be a paying customer.

  He ignored her question. “Forgive me, I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Philip said, his baby blues twinkling at Mila.