Russian Connection

by Lakes, Lynde

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  “Why did you?” The huskiness in her own voice unnerved her.

  He shifted his weight. “Pent-up worry. Relief to see that you were all right.” He took a step closer.

  She backed into the sofa, barely able to breathe. “Thanks for your concern,” she said unsteadily. “Just don’t let it happen again.” She moistened her lips, waiting for his next move.

  Dayd stared at her mouth a moment, then turned. “I’ll check the back rooms.”

  She followed, fighting a wave of disappointment. From the hallway, he stepped into the den, opened the closet. Nothing. Same for the guestroom. From the end of the bed, her cat looked up sleepily, then closed her eyes again, disregarding the intrusion.

  “This is totally unnecessary,” Nikki said, wishing she didn’t enjoy his protection so much.

  Her bedroom was next. Dayd checked the closet, the master bath.

  Nikki watched, tapping her foot. “As you can see, no bogeymen.”

  He scanned the room. Her face burned. She’d dressed quickly, and a lacy bra and panties lay on the end of the bed where she’d flung them. A pair of nylon pantyhose had slipped to the floor.

  Dayd glanced at them without a change in expression. His gaze moved on to her pillow and stopped dead—his attention riveted to a note pinned there. “Know who left that for you?”

  Nikki froze. After a moment, she managed a shaky “no” past the constriction in her throat. “Do you?”

  “A strong hunch.” They both moved toward the note at the same time and collided. “Don’t touch it!” he said and grabbed her by the arms, either to keep her from touching the note, or to keep her from falling.

  “I’m not stupid,” she shot back and pulled away.

  With tense vibes shooting between them, they studied the cursive handwriting. It was penned on a three-by-five index card and pasted to a slightly larger sheet of orange construction paper and trimmed with four rust-colored maple leaves.

  “Considering the feminine handwriting,” Dayd said, “and grade-school, bulletin-board art, I’ll bet this is Margo Bettmore’s handiwork.”

  Nikki’s neck prickled. The name of Godunov’s mistress kept coming up. “A woman mixed up in this dirty business? How would she get in here?”

  “She didn’t. Housebreaking isn’t Margo’s style. She just penned the note.”

  Nikki’s mouth went dry. “You’re saying it’s from Godunov?”

  She started to reach for the note then drew back.

  Dayd caught her wrist in his firm grip. “I told you not to touch it.”

  “And I didn’t, did I?”

  Without bothering to answer, he removed a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and slipped them on.

  Her heart pounded. How in blazes had she gotten mixed up with a man who routinely carried such items? “A plastic bag, now this,” she said. “What kind of man carries such things in his pocket?”

  “A prepared one,” he snapped.

  He held the note so they could read it together. The unsigned message said to be at the Oktoberfest celebration at Porgie’s Place in Running Springs tomorrow night. Bring the disks and Glenda is yours, it promised, and ended with nyet militia.

  “No police,” Nikki murmured, repeating the last two words in the message. In spite of her attempt to control her voice, it wavered.

  Dayd held out his hand. “Give me the plastic bag with the other note.” When she warily handed it to him, he added the second one, and slipped it all into his pocket.

  “You can’t take those,” she said. “I need them.”

  “You need more than those notes. You need a positive ID of the sender. Let me do a little more snooping around. I’ll give Sinclair everything tomorrow.”

  She met his gaze with a steadiness she didn’t feel. “Since when did you become his buddy?”

  His eyes lightened with amusement. “Proximity makes the heart grow fonder. He’s the detective who released me from jail. Twice. He’s not a bad guy, as cops go.”

  “We can’t show him those notes until I have Glenda back. You read the message—no police.”

  Dayd’s face clouded, and his look bored into her. “One of Godunov’s men stood right here, next to your bed. What if you’d been home alone?”

  Nikki swallowed hard. If Dayd’s intention was to heighten her fear, he was doing a good job of it. Her knees went weak.

  “Sit down a minute.” He eased her to the bed, his arm protectively around her. Suddenly, although she was still trembling, he left her, and leaned against the dresser. What did his quick flight from her side mean? Clearly his professional cool had been shaken. Against reason, she wanted his arms back around her.

  When the kidnappers grabbed Glenda, she’d been so concerned about her friend’s well being that she hadn’t dwelled very much on the implications of the breakin. Now the impact of knowing that strangers had been in her bedroom and touched her things shook her to her core. She felt so violated. “They can come in here anytime they want to,” she said softly. “Oh, God, what am I going to do?”

  He shifted forward slightly as if he wanted to come to her, soothe her. Instead, he remained at a distance and said, “Stay calm. You’re not in this alone. We’re a team, remember?”

  “What about Jimmy? If someone can get in here so easily, they can get in his apartment and grab him.”

  “I’ll arrange to get you and the kid out of town until Boris and I can get a handle on this. You’ll have to take a leave of absence from work.”

  “I already did. To arrange Luke’s burial and to do whatever it takes to find Glenda. But I won’t leave town and abandon her now. Just set it up for Jimmy.”

  Dayd’s eyes darkened. “Look, let’s be very clear on this. Until this is over, you can’t stay alone. Anywhere. Anytime. If you insist upon staying in town, you’ll have to stay with me at my suite at the Radisson.”

  Her heart pounded, and she felt curiously unsteady. “In your dreams, Mr. Radlavich. I don’t even know you.” And I’m scared to death of what you are, whatever that is. Yet, she had to admit she was even more frightened by the man sending the notes.

  Dayd’s brown eyes met hers, looking forthright, believable. “You’ll be safe. Separate rooms. No monkey business.”

  “The idea is ludicrous.”

  He looked grim as he laid out her options. “Stay here and be grabbed by the kidnappers. Move in with your dad and his wife, which didn’t seem to work out the last time. Go to the police and ask for protection—which means you’ll have to tell them everything and abide by their rules. Or go with me, a man who knows the enemy and is willing to break every rule to get your friend back and keep you safe.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she exhaled heavily. “I’ll go with you on two conditions.”

  “Scout’s honor, I won’t touch you.”

  “I doubt that you were ever a scout, but that’s not it.”

  His lips turned up slightly at the corners. “What then?”

  “We take my cat along.”

  “I live in a hotel. No cats,” he said flatly.

  “Your decision. But from now on wherever I sleep, she sleeps.” Mitzi wasn’t a watchdog, but she’d serve as a security blanket, a familiar friend in a strange environment.

  “Great. Just great. I’m afraid to ask about your second condition. Do you have a dog around here too? Or a horse?”

  “Nothing like that,” she said, unamused. “Don’t stop me from going to the Oktoberfest tomorrow night.”

  A vein in Dayd’s neck throbbed an angry beat. “Are you crazy? They’ll grab you.”

  “Those are my conditions. Take them or leave them.” A cold shiver slid down her spine. No one in their right mind would meet with mafia hoods! But if she didn’t, Glenda would end up dead.

  “I’d leave them,” Dayd growled. “But I know you wouldn’t let it go at that.”

  “You’ve got that right. This is G
lenda’s life we’re talking about.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said. “I’ll agree if you follow my instructions to the letter.”

  “We can discuss them. What do you have in mind?” She had no intention of being ruled by this man. But she’d hear him out. Anything to get Glenda back.

  “First, we continue to search for the missing disks. We need a bargaining chip. And we go together. And stay together.”

  “But they said to come alone.”

  “What they said was ‘no police.’ But I think we should have police backup too.”

  “Definitely not. They fouled up the exchange last time and I won’t have them doing it again.”

  “Okay, no police. But we stay together.”

  “But Godunov and his men know you.”

  “I promise, they’ll never recognize me.”

  So, Dayd had a plan. Fantastic. “Agreed then,” she said, feeling a rush of relief. She would feel safer with him at her side.

  ****

  Dayd knew better than to trust Nikki’s word. Her friend’s life was in the balance, and Nikki would do anything to save her. Even get herself killed. He had to protect her in spite of herself.

  While Nikki packed, Dayd called Boris and finally reached him.

  “Ziyakbusky took me on a wild goose chase,” Boris said. “First to the Orange Show Grounds, a bowling alley, then to Vladimir’s bar.”

  “Did he meet with any other Russians?”

  “Everywhere he went, but he seemed to be just having a night on the town. He ended up with one of the ballet dancers, a long-legged redhead, who met him around 1:00 A.M. at Vladimir’s place. They spent the night at the Hyatt. Around noon he left and went back to Arrowhead Springs. He’s still there.”

  Dayd gripped the phone tighter. “What about the woman?”

  “Never saw her again. If she left, it was later. Want me to stay on Ziyakbusky or check her out?”

  “Stay on him, but meet me in my room for breakfast at 7:00 A.M.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Nikki Brown will be eating with us.”

  The line went silent for a few seconds. “It isn’t like you to play love games on the job,” Boris said finally.

  “You’re right. It isn’t. So don’t sweat it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Margo delivered the first warning note during intermission,” Demitri Romanov told Godunov. “Sending her along was an excellent cover. We were just a couple seeing the performance.”

  Ivan Godunov’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t get any ideas about Margo. She is Nelzya! Forbidden.”

  Demitri began to sweat. “Never. Everyone knows she’s yours.”

  “What stopped you from grabbing the widow?” Godunov asked. “A note was to be used only in case things went sour.”

  “The place was crawling with cops. And she had that kid—”

  “Excuses. I want this finished.”

  Demitri’s face paled. “I’ll have the girl and the disks by midnight tomorrow. Margo prepared a lovely invitation.”

  Ivan knew Margo liked crafts; she was still a child in many ways. And that was part of her charm. He didn’t mind her amusing herself, but not at the expense of his project.

  “This isn’t a game.” Ivan hated stupid people and he could not forgive failure, but now was not the time for revenge. “If anything bad comes from this…”

  Demitri blotted the sweat from his brow. “It won’t.”

  Ivan lit his cigar and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. “Don’t fail again. Time has run out.”

  ****

  “So this is home,” Nikki said, looking around the upscale hotel suite. She inhaled the scent of fresh roses and spied the oversized ivory, granite vase at the marble entry filled with at least three-dozen burgundy roses.

  In spite of Dayd’s tight, worn jeans and black leather jacket, his tall, aristocratic stature fit quite naturally into the atmosphere of this elegant suite with its masculine black and white decor and lush snowy carpeting.

  She slowly stroked Mitzi’s smooth coat, trying to hide her nervousness. The cat let out a loud meow. Dayd frowned, but said nothing.

  He pointed in the general direction of the bedrooms. “The guestroom is the second door down the hall. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the cat in there.”

  She walked to the unoccupied room on shaky legs and peeked in. Wow. This was far better than anything she’d imagined. It had a king-sized bed and a luxurious bathroom. She stepped inside and inspected the elevated tub with its whirlpool jets and overhead shower. Maybe her stay here wouldn’t be so bad.

  With Mitzi still in her arms, she ambled to the bedroom window. “Look, Mitzi, an east side view. We’ll have a daytime panorama of the snowcapped San Gorgonio Mountains.” She put the cat and her overnight bag down on the foot of the bed.

  “Be back soon,” she whispered, smoothing Mitzi’s coat. “And don’t get into anything. We’re just guests here.”

  Before she could exit the bedroom, Dayd carried in the cat-care supplies. As he bent and placed the kitty litter box and bag of litter by the door, his jeans tightened across firm buttocks. “I hope you’ll be comfortable,” he said in a voice so deep that goose bumps rose on her arm.

  She’d definitely be more relaxed if they weren’t in this bedroom together. “It’s fine.” She laughed to herself. Since meeting Dayd she had become the Queen Of Understatements.

  He stood in the doorway for a moment. It bothered her that he showed no signs of sharing her discomfort. When he turned and left the room, she followed. He headed for the bar in the spacious living room.

  If only she could think of something to say to lessen the tension. She looked away, feeling self-conscious about being alone with this man who reeked sex appeal and danger. The room seemed to shrink. She busied herself reading liquor labels. The full-sized bottles of vodka and bourbon weren’t standard hotel fare. Nor were the dozen lead crystal glasses and fancy decanter. Her gaze trailed to the huge basket of fruit at the end of the bar, wrapped in clear plastic and tied with a big gold bow. The room had been prepared to order. What kind of man lived like this? A wealthy guy who liked to indulge himself? Or perhaps a rich underworld dom who supplemented his income with kickbacks? The image of the note attached to her pillow flashed in her mind. No rash judgments, she thought, right now he’s my personal protector.

  Dayd handed her a shot of clear liquid over ice. “Try some Stolichnaya. It’s a Russian vodka sure to send you to dreamland without a care in the world.”

  She took a small sip. It burned like acid. “I can see why. It probably fries your brain.”

  “Would you prefer something else?”

  “No, when in Moscow…” If Dayd could handle this stuff she could force down a sip or two. And a promised good night’s sleep sounded good. Rest was something she’d had little of since Glenda had been abducted.

  Dayd grinned and raised a brow. “Moscow?”

  “Since all the Russians hit town, I feel like our city is a miniature Moscow. Even this room has a Russian flavor.” She met his twinkling gaze. “Are you a Russian?”

  He laughed. “Nyet. I was born in New York, but I grew up in Moscow—lived there from age three to ten. Dad is of Russian descent, and mother was born in Moscow. She was a professor at the Moscow University when she met my father, a diplomat at the American Embassy.”

  “I thought perhaps you were raised by Russian wolves.” She grinned and took a small sip of the vodka. The biting liquid burned all the way down. “Are you a spy or a double agent?” Dumb question. If he were, he would never admit it.

  “I told you I work for the government.”

  “But which government?”

  He shook his head. “Because I drink vodka and speak with an accent you want to make me into something sinister. I assure you I’m not.”

  She wanted to believe that with all her heart. Not just because she was spending the night in his suite, but also because, in spite of her earlier opinion and
his aversion to cats, she’d begun to like him, and was deeply interested in what made this enigmatic man tick.

  ****

  While Nikki showered, Dayd ducked out to the nearby Sinclair’s office. The detective was out, so he placed the note Margo had given Jimmy, the gold stud with the hair caught on it, and the hairbrush he’d borrowed from Glenda’s overnight case in a large manila envelope with his “request for a rush.” He wished he could be a fly on the wall when the detective opened the

  package. The Fourth of July fireworks would pale in comparison. Sinclair had made it clear that he didn’t like being ordered to cooperate with the CIA.

  Dayd held back Margo’s note ordering Nikki to bring the disks to Porgie’s Place. If Nikki was to have any hope of making contact with Godunov’s henchman she had to at least appear to be playing by his rules.

  On Dayd’s way back to the hotel, he swung by Vladimir’s place to pick up the midnight feast he’d ordered earlier. Nikki had told him she wasn’t hungry, but eating with the man she’d moved in with might relax her. She had to be nervous about it. He felt blood rush to his groin. He was pretty high-strung about it himself.

  Instead of taking the elevator to his room, he charged up the stairwell two steps at a time. Balancing bags of food, he inserted his security card to enter his floor, then again a dozen steps later to enter his suite.

  ****

  Stunned, Nikki whirled around as the door opened.

  “I hope I didn’t frighten you,” Dayd said.

  The room brightened and the air electrified at his presence. She took her hand to her breast and inhaled a calming breath. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

  He grinned and placed the Styrofoam containers and paper bags on the counter of the bar. “I’ll walk louder next time.”

  Nikki forced a nervous laugh. She couldn’t believe she was in this hotel with a dark, dangerous stranger. The fact that he was dangerous was a given. The trouble was he didn’t seem so much like a stranger after that kiss. It had been outrageous for him to grab her like that. She couldn’t figure him out, or herself for that matter.

  Although he’d promised to help, she’d seen no hard evidence of it. Only his word—the word of a liar. And he had gotten her into trouble with the police, then arranged her release. Now he promised to protect her from unknown pursuers. Thinking about him unnerved Nikki. It was as if some force had thrust this man into her life to get in her way, distract her from her goal, and drive her completely out of her mind.