Nobody's Child (Georgia Davis Series)

by Libby Fischer Hellmann

  “He pricked my finger and made me smear it on the wrapper. He knew you’d do that. He’s been trying to reel you in.”

  Georgia remembered Boris talking about Vlad playing cat and mouse. Leaving bread crumbs to trap his prey.

  “The next day I begged Sergei to set you straight. Instead he was killed. Vlad must have found out I’d sent him and had him killed.” Vanna let out a strangled sob. “Oh fuck. Now he’s going to kill me, too.”

  “Stop. Sergei’s murder wasn’t your fault, Savannah. Sergei was a double. A stoolie. He was working for someone else in the Russian mob. One of Vlad’s enemies. Vlad killed him to send that guy a message.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve been trying to find you for a few weeks. In the process, I’ve discovered a lot of things.”

  “How did you know it was Vlad?’

  “I saw him in a car two nights ago.” She ran her tongue around her lips. There was one piece of the puzzle she still didn’t understand. “But how did he figure out you were my sister?”

  Savannah hesitated. “It was my fault,” she said. “When I first met him, I bragged. I told him you’d get me out of here.”

  “You told him my name?”

  Her voice cracked. “I—I told him I had a sister here and he asked your name. Then…” This time her voice broke. “…he asked if you were a cop.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I didn’t know. But then I remembered Mom saying she’d been married to a cop in Chicago, and I figured…well, it was possible.”

  A cold weight settled in Georgia’s chest. “I was. A cop.”

  “I thought so. As soon as he heard your name, he began to plan. And then later, when he was fucking me, he started talking all this crazy shit. About dangling bait on a hook. Figuring out how to get you to come to him.” She was sobbing now. “I’m sorry, Georgia.”

  With a rush of comprehension, the scale of it all became clear to Georgia. She’d told Boris she suspected she’d been played. She had. Set up from the beginning. Everything she’d done or discovered about Zoya, Chad Coe, Lotwin, and the baby-breeding and organ businesses had been orchestrated by him. The DNA, the note, Claudia Nyquist, too. It was an elaborate trap set by a vindictive thug. The irony was that against all odds, it had worked. Her jaw clenched.

  She was about to ask Savannah more when someone with leather soles on their boots clattered up the stairs. Seconds later a key twisted the doorknob of her room.

  Chapter 99

  Georgia threw herself back on the bed just as the door flew open. A man she hadn’t seen before was silhouetted in the doorway. He gazed around with suspicion, as if he thought she’d been up to something but wasn’t sure what. Then in perfect English, he said, “Vlad is on the way. He wants to see you.”

  “Will you please uncuff me? I’m harmless.”

  The man hesitated, then shook his head. “Only if he says so.”

  She wanted to ask the guy if he always did exactly what Vlad said but thought better of it. He seemed like the type who’d tell Vlad she was trying to drive a wedge between them. Which, of course, she was.

  He closed the door and relocked it, then banged on Savannah’s door with the same message. His boots clomped as he went back down the stairs.

  An assortment of emotions roiled Georgia: relief, joy, a sense of achievement that she’d found her sister. But they were tempered by mounting apprehension. How was she going to get them out of here? She had nothing to work with. The man she was up against had every advantage.

  She went back to the vent.

  “Savannah?”

  “Yeah?” Her sister sounded desolate.

  “Tell me something,” Georgia asked. “You’re sure Vlad is the father of your baby?”

  It took her a moment to answer. “Yes,” Savannah breathed. “He fucks all the girls. I thought I was special. And I was. For a while.” She paused. “Georgia, are you a blonde?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  Her sister sucked in a breath. “Never mind.”

  Georgia sat back. Vlad was impregnating girls, sowing his seed, creating tiny beings who might be adopted and whose mothers were later murdered for their parts. What kind of monster runs such an evil three-ring circus? What kind of person harbors such deep hatred? Was Savannah going to be killed after she delivered? She had to come up with something to save them both.

  Savannah cut into her thoughts. “What are we going to do?”

  Her voice was small and desperate. She was waiting for Georgia to take the lead. To be the big sister. To save her. But how?

  “Tell me about the layout downstairs.”

  “Well, you already saw the kitchen and the stairs. If you cross the hall instead of going up, there’s a living room. Vlad put track lights in there for inspections.”

  “Inspections?”

  “When he gets a new girl, he makes them parade around the room while he decides which ones he’s going to fuck and which he pimps out.” She hesitated. “I was his girl longer than anyone else.”

  Georgia frowned. “You sound like you’re proud of it.”

  “He wasn’t all bad. He got me off dope. And had a doctor examine me.”

  Georgia jerked her head up. “A doctor?”

  “He took my blood. To make sure I didn’t have an STD. Or AIDS.”

  And figure out what your blood type is, Georgia thought.

  “Vlad gave me a pair of earrings for Christmas,” Savannah went on. “And you know, sometimes I used to catch him staring at me. I was never sure whether he wanted to hurt me or love me. But then he would break into that strange smile of his and make a joke. Or throw himself on top of me and make love.”

  “Make love? Are you kidding?”

  “It wasn’t always just sex.”

  Sure, Georgia thought. Her sister had a case of Stockholm syndrome. “Except that he impregnates whoever he wants and kills them afterward.”

  “You know about that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I just found out,” Savannah said. “A girl, my friend Jenny, used to have your room. But she couldn’t handle it and tried to run away. She”—her voice cracked—“she’s dead now.”

  Georgia put it together. “Was she the girl they found on Route 173 a couple of weeks ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “She was your friend?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m so sorry, sweet—” Georgia cleared her throat. “So what do you know about Zoya?”

  “She works for him. She’s around a lot, especially when girls go into labor.”

  “Is she a midwife?”

  “A what?”

  “Never mind.” Georgia was quiet. Then, “Didn’t you used to be at a warehouse in downtown Chicago?”

  “Vlad moves us around a lot. Apartments, warehouses, the farm. We’re always coming or going.”

  Of course they were. Vlad had to stay one step ahead of the law as well as the johns, whores, and guys like Bruce Kreisman.

  Savannah cut into her thoughts. “Georgia, are you still there?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “He’ll be here in a few minutes. What are we going to do?”

  “Can you handle a gun?”

  “I—I…no,” Savannah said, her voice crestfallen.

  “Well, you’re in for some on-the-job training. I assume he’ll keep us under tight guard. And he’ll probably keep my hands cuffed. I’ll do my best to think of a diversion, and if it works, you’re going to have to find a gun. They took my Glock and my revolver. Do you have any idea where they’d be?”

  “They usually keep them in the kitchen.”

  “Good. If you can find them, go for the revolver. You know, the one that looks like a cap gun. It’s smaller and easier to use. All you have to do is aim and squeeze the trigger. Try to shoot your way out, then run like hell. Hitch a ride to the police station and have them call Jimmy Saclarides in Lake Geneva.”

  “Who’s he?”
<
br />   “A friend. Say the name so I know you know it.”

  “Jimmy Saclarides.”

  “Good.” But it wasn’t good. Not at all. Savannah didn’t know it, but you couldn’t really call what she’d said a plan. All they had was a wish and a prayer.

  *

  The crunch of tires on snow and gravel signaled Vlad’s arrival. A car door slammed.

  “Oh fuck. He’s here!” Savannah cried. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  Her sister was losing it. Georgia had to keep it together. Tension tightened her neck and shoulders, but she forced herself to think. They needed to create a diversion so Savannah could look for the gun. But what? Finally, an idea came to her. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

  “Savannah, listen to me. I have an idea.”

  Chapter 100

  Minutes later footsteps clattered up the stairs again. By the sound of it, more than one set. Keys jangled, and Georgia’s door swung open. A guard she hadn’t seen before crooked his finger, and when she rolled off the bed, he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her out the door. In the hall a second guard, the man who spoke perfect English, fumbled a key into Savannah’s room. His entry was cut short.

  “Fuck you,” she yelled. “Don’t you dare come in. I’m not ready.”

  “Well, get ready. Vlad wants you downstairs pronto.”

  The guard holding Georgia uttered something sharp in Russian. The guard who spoke English rolled his eyes. Georgia’s guard pushed Georgia toward the stairs. Her wrists were still cuffed, and she was off balance. She had to focus to keep from falling. When they got to the bottom, the guard turned her away from the kitchen into the living room.

  It was a good-sized room with bright track lighting at one end. The rest of the room lay in deep shadow, but she made out a couple of easy chairs with a small table between them. A man filled one of the chairs. The guard pushed her into the lit area. The illumination from the track lights was blinding, and she squinted. She needed to shade her eyes. The guard released her but stayed a few feet away, his hand on his holster.

  Out of the darkness came a male voice in heavily accented English. “Welcome, Georgia Davis.”

  She kept her mouth shut.

  “It is long time.” There was a rustle and the man disentangled himself from the chair.

  Unlike the other night, he was now in the light. Georgia took a good look. She recognized the high cheekbones, the sharp Slavic features, and the pale blue eyes that glittered like diamonds. His hair was more silver now, but on him it looked good. He was casually dressed in a sweater and leather jacket. He just missed being handsome, but she could see why women were attracted to him. Still, something was off. She tried to figure out what. Was it his flat expression? The smile that didn’t reach his eyes? No. Something else.

  She turned, mentally calculating how many steps it would take her to get to the kitchen.

  “I wait for you long time.” Vlad blocked her view by moving in front of her. He crossed his arms.

  “I’ll bet,” Georgia said.

  “You and other woman took my life.”

  He was referring to Ellie Foreman, who was the first to discover that the money Max Gordon had been laundering was Vlad’s. And with that Georgia realized what was off. They had ruined his life; he’d barely escaped and had returned to the Ukraine, humiliated and broke. Yet now he was behaving in a restrained, almost pleasant manner, as if they were chatting about the weather, not his undoing. The degree of self-control that required had to be enormous.

  “You seem to have survived,” Georgia said. “Like a cockroach.”

  He gestured to the guard in the room with him. “Bring me water.”

  The guard scurried out and returned with a filled glass from the kitchen.

  “Not that,” Vlad knocked the glass out of the man’s hands. It fell and smashed into pieces, spilling water on the hardwood floor.

  The guard jerked back. Georgia winced at the sudden violence.

  “Bottle. Bottle water,” Vlad seethed. He gazed at the broken shards of glass, ground the heel of his boot, crushing them into smaller bits and pieces. “Pick up. Now.”

  The guard nodded, bent down, and tried to sweep up the pieces with his hand. Blood oozed from his palm.

  “Stop. Stupid. Get bottle.”

  The guard bolted from the room with the remnants of the glass.

  Vlad reverted to the icy calm he’d shown earlier. Georgia pressed her lips together. His unpredictable mood shifts were going to be dangerous.

  “Yes. I survive,” he said pleasantly. He hadn’t reacted to her cockroach remark. It must have sailed over his head. “And now…how do you say in English? Turn around we play?”

  “Turnabout is fair play,” Georgia said, her voice low.

  “Yes. Turn-around is fair play. You see, I not forget.”

  Georgia remembered Vlad had been a soldier. He could be ruthless, but the men in his unit were devoted to him. His wife, Mika, had said he would rule the world one day. She was only half joking. Georgia decided her only option was to make him lose his cool. If he did, maybe he would make a mistake. She just needed one. A tiny misstep would give her an opening.

  “Did you have a nice swim in the river?” she asked.

  He smiled lazily, as if he knew what she was trying to do but wouldn’t let her bait him. “They say cockroach survive World War Three.”

  Chapter 101

  A pair of heels clacked down the stairs, and Savannah’s voice called out. “Vlad, baby? Is that you?”

  A second later, Savannah sashayed into the room, followed by her guard. Vlad turned around and gaped. Georgia did too. It was the first time she’d laid eyes on her sister, and her appearance left little to the imagination. She was wearing next to nothing: tiny glittery pasties on her nipples, a pair of slinky black panties, fishnet stockings, and four-inch stiletto heels. Her long blond hair shone in the light, and her makeup had been carefully applied. Her skin, and there was a lot of it on display, was rosy, taut, and smooth.

  She was drawn to her sister’s face. It was a young face, a face that needed to mature. Still, she was a knockout. Big brown eyes, a tiny nose, a perfect complexion, and full lips that were bowed in just the right way. Despite what she’d gone through, she still wore an eager, hopeful expression, and when she broke into a smile, as she did now, she couldn’t have looked more alluring. Georgia understood why Vlad kept coming back to her.

  Savannah hurried over and threw her arms around Vlad. “I’m so happy to see you. Where have you been? I’ve missed you!” She flashed him a brilliant smile. Too much, Georgia thought. Tone it down. But Savannah pressed her cheek against his, nuzzled his neck, and dropped kisses on him. The second guard, who had come back in the room with a bottle of water, stood by helplessly, apparently unsure what to do.

  Vlad shoved her away. “Stop! You pregnant!”

  Undeterred, Savannah continued to flash him a dazzling smile. “Yes, and it’s your baby! We made it together.”

  Georgia frowned. It didn’t sound like she was faking.

  “I do not fuck woman with child. Go. I talk with sister.” He took the bottle of water and waved it dismissively in her direction.

  “But, Vlad, I want you to come upstairs and make love to me. Just us.” Her voice was pleading now. Almost begging. “You love me. I know you do.”

  “Love? Who can love a whore?”

  “That’s not true.” Savannah stiffened, and her voice grew shrill. “I know you love me. The earrings.”

  Vlad’s expression was steely. “I take them off dead girl.”

  Savannah’s lips tightened into a thin, grim line.

  Vlad motioned to the guard, but before he could grab Savannah, she spun around to Georgia. Bitter hostility spread across her face. ”It’s your fault he doesn’t want me,” she cried. “Why did you come here? I don’t want you. No one does.” She raised her hand and slapped Georgia across the face.

  She’d expected it, but the force of
the blow brought tears to Georgia’s eyes. She reeled back, her cheek stinging.

  Savannah slapped her again. “Get rid of her, Vlad. Now!”

  Georgia swayed unsteadily. She would have collapsed, but the guard hurried over to break her fall.

  “Take her away.” Vlad pointed toward Savannah.

  Savannah’s guard grabbed her and tried to drag her out of the room, but in a surprising show of force, Savannah struggled.

  “No! I hate her. She’s the reason you don’t want to be with me!”

  Vlad set the unopened water bottle on the table and rubbed the back of his neck, as if he wasn’t sure what to do. Savannah kept ranting, sounding hysterical now. There was a thin line between acting and real life. Had Savannah crossed it? Finally, Vlad spat out something in Russian, and the guard dragged her sister across the room. Vlad motioned to the stairs.

  Georgia’s spirits sank. Their chances had been slim to begin with, but she’d hoped the ploy of having Savannah attack Georgia would force him to remove her from the room. Then Savannah would have the chance to find a gun. But the strategy had failed. Georgia’s stomach churned. But she had to try.

  “You’ve had a good run, haven’t you, Vlad? Women falling all over you, a lucrative operation, lots of money, whores, and drugs. And, of course, babies.”

  Although Savannah was no longer in the room, they could hear her crying. It sounded like she was in the kitchen. Definitely not upstairs. How had she managed that? Georgia felt a flicker of hope.

  Vlad ran one hand up his other arm, stroking himself in a self-conscious way. Only athletes did that, she thought. And narcissists. But the action helped him regain his equilibrium, because when he turned back to Georgia, he smiled. “It is good business.”

  He was back in control.

  She kept going. “Business? Is that what you call a baby-breeding ring where the babies and their mother’s organs go to the highest bidder?”

  His tongue snaked over his lips. His smile broadened. “You know nothing about my business. People are happy. They get baby. Other people live because of me. I run—how you say—unselfish business. For others.”