Russian Connection

by Lakes, Lynde

  He stared out the closed sliding glass doors of his hotel room, seeing nothing but the image of Nikki’s face. Thoughts of leaving her when this was over were too painful to bear. He couldn’t dwell on that now. Glenda had to be his focus. Nikki had seen her alive. But Glenda would soon outlive her usefulness to Godunov. That meant death, or being shipped out of the country where she’d bring a good price in one of the sex-slave markets.

  Boris and Nazar came in from the terrace and huddled over the computer for about five minutes. Abruptly, Boris got up and began to pace the floor.

  “What’s bothering you?” Dayd asked.

  Boris hesitated, looking torn, then said, “We need to talk. Alone. Let’s use the terrace.”

  Now what? Dayd wondered, as he followed The Bear. Crisp morning air braced Dayd for whatever was to come. He glanced up at the sky, waiting. Puffy white clouds drifted across a cobalt-gray sky. Muted sounds of a city’s bustle came from the streets below. Boris closed the sliding glass door behind them and pointed to a wrought iron chair. “You’ll want to sit down to hear this.”

  Dayd leaned against the railing. “Whatever it is, I can take it standing.” They had slipped into speaking Russian.

  “It’s about Nikki.” Boris’s face shone as if he’d found the magic key to life. “I never thought it would happen to me. But I’ve fallen for her, and I want to know how you feel about that.”

  “What?” Dayd felt like The Bear had punched him in the stomach. “Are you serious?” It was Boris’s style to keep a straight face even when he was joking.

  “Serious enough to give up everything to have her.”

  Dayd dropped to the nearest chair and stared at his friend.

  Boris patted his pocket searching for a cigarette. He found an empty pack. Frowning, he crushed it in his big hand. “Don’t just look at me, say something.”

  Dayd’s stomach knotted. “You spent one day with her and you expect me to believe you want to marry her?”

  “The day just cemented feelings I’ve tried to ignore. There were the weeks of surveillance, learning all about her. At first, she seemed too good to be true. But that day I spent with her was the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Best you ever had?” Dayd realized he was shouting and fought to keep his voice down. “What are you saying?”

  Boris made a sound of disgust. “Nothing sexual, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m talking about just sharing a day with her. It was magnificent. She has this way of drawing a person out, making him feel good about himself. And when Godunov’s men almost got her—”

  Dayd let out a long breath. “This can’t be. Nikki and I… Something powerful is going on between us.”

  “A permanent something?” Boris’s fired back. He squared his shoulders, his silvery eyes steady, probing. “Are you ready to go all the way on this? Give up the jetting around—offer marriage? If not, I am. And I won’t wait long to ask her.”

  “I don’t think either of us has much to say about this,” Dayd growled. “Nikki might not want either of us.”

  “Granted. But I’ll sure give it my best shot.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Dayd insisted that Nikki go with him to St. Bernadine’s Hospital to talk to the driver of the beer wagon. No way would he leave her alone with Boris. The gauntlet had been dropped, and he’d taken Boris’s warning seriously.

  It had crossed his mind that Nikki might slow him down. Instead, she knew her way around the hospital, and her friendship with some of the staff got them in to see Gus Wilhite during non-visiting hours.

  Wilhite had an IV in his arm and his swollen, bruised face looked like hamburger. “I already talked to the police,” he grumbled when Dayd asked him about the hijacking.

  Nikki put the mixed flowers she’d purchased downstairs on the stand beside his bed, and clutched the trucker’s hand. “The monsters who did this to you kidnapped my friend.” Nikki’s voice trembled. She told him a little about Glenda, explaining that her friend worked in this hospital and was a true angel of mercy. “Now she needs your help.”

  Wilhite’s expression softened. “Check ABC Rentals. Just before things went black, I fell against the bumper and saw their decal.”

  Nikki squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Mr. Wilhite. You may have just saved a woman’s life.”

  Wilhite nodded as though too drained to say more. Even so, a renewed life now flickered in his eyes. Nikki’s sunny essence had lifted the trucker’s spirits more than any medicine. In a magic world, Nikki’s invincible spirit might even heal his own wounded soul. But this was real life, full of cold realities.

  He guided Nikki out of the room, his awareness of her burning strong. By the time they returned to the car and were on their way again, he had himself under control. “You’re good with people,” he said.

  “They didn’t have to beat Wilhite bloody to steal the truck.” Her voice broke. “Glenda…”

  He reached over and squeezed Nikki’s hand, fully aware of the thoughts of torture that had constricted her throat and forced her words to trail away on a thin, trembly thread of angst. The same unnecessary brutality used on Wilhite could be turned on Glenda. It would be just like Godunov to kick her around for his sick amusement.

  When Nikki turned her face to the window and gave a shuddering breath, Dayd put both hands on the steering wheel again and gripped it tighter. He had to get her mind on something else. “Wilhite talked to the police,” he said. “I wonder if he told them about ABC Rentals. What did Sinclair say when he called you?”

  She cleared her throat. “Just that he’d released Luke’s body for burial. The service at Bobbett Chapel is set for tomorrow at two.” The way Nikki raked her fingers through her tangle of thick auburn hair told Dayd composing herself was a tremendous struggle and he admired that she was pulling it off so well. “The detective said the killer might show up.”

  Dayd tightened his jaw muscle, wishing the burial could have been postponed. “Sinclair’s a good cop, but he can’t cover you every minute. I can.”

  Dayd pulled up in front of ABC Rentals, parked, and took her cool hands in his. For several moments, he just sat there holding her hands. “After we finish here, we need to go somewhere and talk. Things have gotten complicated.”

  ****

  It was unnerving how everyone kept saying that. Nikki glanced at Dayd, moved by the husky emotion in his voice. Before she could ask what he meant, or reflect on the reason his voice had been so tight, he quickly left the car. She got out and met him at the curbside, eager to find out what they could learn here at the rental place, and even more eager to get back to their puzzling conversation.

  Sunlight gleamed on strands of silver in Dayd’s black hair. He moved with strong, rugged motions. As he took her arm, a stirring warmth spread through her. Despite his strictly-business demeanor, she knew by the electricity charging between them that he was as aware of her as she was of him.

  They entered a small stucco building that smelled of stale tobacco. Dayd squared his shoulders and flashed his identification to the burly manager. The guy couldn’t have gotten a good look at the ID but the brief glance and Dayd’s official presence was enough to get the guy to talk. He told Dayd that a man who called himself Dooley O’Mally had rented the truck. He described the guy as tall and pocked-face with steely eyes. Dayd showed him a picture of Peter Ziyakbusky and the manager confirmed the identification.

  Damn Luke. Because of him, she and Glenda were mixed up with a bunch of Russian thugs. Her palms began to sweat. Sinclair’s words echoed in her head—someone close to you might be involved. She’d already ruled out Dayd. He was her protector. Could it be Boris? Nazar? Or someone at work? Who? Surely not Curt.

  Dayd placed his hand in the small of her back. She was so deep in thought his touch startled her. To cover her skittishness she smiled up at him.

  His face was all cheekbones and angles, his eyebrows dark and arched. “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded.


  When they returned to the car, Dayd flipped open his cell phone and called Sinclair. He reported that Peter Ziyakbusky was one of the men who’d hijacked the beer wagon. “I’ll fax his picture to you,” he told the detective.

  Dayd held Nikki’s gaze so fiercely she could scarcely breathe. The detective must have asked about her because Dayd said, “She’s with me. And will be until this is over.” His protective tone warmed her.

  As soon as Dayd finished his call, Nikki used his cellular to retrieve her messages, hoping by some miracle there would be one from Glenda. Instead, she heard the excited voice of Carmen, the Arrowhead Springs housekeeper, asking her to call the minute she got in.

  Nikki gripped the receiver in a strangle hold. She punched the Arrowhead Springs number with trembling fingers. Don’t let it be too late, she prayed.

  Carmen answered all excited. In rush of half English, half Spanish, she said, “Tu amiga—your friend. Last evening three men rushed her from the hotel into a Buick. When you didn’t return my earlier call—”

  “Your message was garbled. If I’d known it was you I’d have contacted you right away.”

  “I called the policia,” Carmen said. “They took a report. But I was un poco embarrassed because your friend didn’t seem to be resisting those men or anything.”

  Nikki’s heart accelerated. “You did the right thing, Carmen. Did those men come back? Are they there now?”

  “Cleared out. Left mucho garbage.” Carmen paused. “I bagged it for you—might find something you can use.”

  “You’re a Godsend. I’ll be right there.” Nikki knew the housekeeper was risking her job.

  Before Nikki even hung up, Dayd had made a U-turn and headed up the hill. She dug her fingernails into the leather upholstery as Dayd maneuvered the series of hairpin curves with skilled speed.

  Carmen was waiting in her office when they arrived. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe knot. Excited, she lapsed again into half Spanish, half English. Dayd offered Carmen a hundred dollars in exchange for the large green plastic bag full of trash. She shook her head fiercely. “Just get your amiga back.”

  Nikki hugged Carmen and said, “I’ll let you know how things turn out.”

  The drive down the hill gave Nikki a chance to talk to Dayd, but could she trust him to keep her suspicions to himself? She slipped her hand to his thigh, and absently stroked his hard muscles. “If I tell you something, it has to stay just between us.” She took a deep breath. “I know Boris and Nazar are your friends, but I don’t trust them.”

  An unreadable look flashed in Dayd’s eyes. “They would never tell Godunov anything,” he said. “I don’t know how he discovered what’s on the disks, or what the information meant to him, but whatever he learned has made you his target.”

  She pressed her nails deeper into Dayd’s thigh. “If you want me to level with you, I need your promise of confidentiality.”

  He glanced down at her gouging fingers. “You’ve got it.”

  Dayd’s rich masculine voice sent vibrations coursing through her. She eased her grip on his leg, and took a deep breath before speaking. “The number in brackets you asked about is my safe deposit box.”

  “And Luke had access to it before his murder?”

  Nikki nodded. “Since the day after our wedding.”

  Dayd’s expression darkened. “What’s in the box?”

  “A few stock certificates, my birth certificate, marriage license, things like that.”

  “When was the last time you checked it?”

  “I don’t know, months ago.”

  Dayd covered her hand with his. “I think we’d better take a look. Do you have the key with you?”

  She nodded. “Always keep it in my wallet.”

  When they hit the freeway to downtown San Bernardino the traffic bogged down. They exited as quickly as possible and headed for her bank. A foreboding grew within Nikki—what new disillusionment had Luke left for her? She’d been in love with a man she invented, and the fantasy continued to unravel.

  Nikki and Dayd took the safe deposit box to a private room. With a deep breath, she eased the lid open. She gasped in shock. Except for a key on a gold chain, the box was empty. No certificates, no stocks, nothing but a damned key!

  Coldness wrapped around her, then hot anger. She drew back her arm to sweep the box to the floor.

  Dayd grabbed her wrist. “Let’s not get ourselves kicked out of here,” he said quietly.

  Damn. Damn. Damn, she thought. In the past, Luke had borrowed money and failed to pay it back—but this was outright theft! And tomorrow she was supposed to mourn this man. The service would be a sham, a lie, just like her marriage.

  She inhaled deeply, trying to calm down.

  Dayd removed the brass key and stared at it. It resembled an ornate three-leaf-clover perched on a long-backed letter H. “Any idea what this will unlock?” he asked.

  “Pandora’s box?”

  Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Glad you’ve managed to hang onto your sense of humor.” He tapped the key on the table, looking intense again. “I’ll bet if we find what this fits, we’ll discover what Godunov is after—what he thinks you have.”

  “So, where do we look?”

  “I hoped you could tell me.” Dayd turned the key over in his hand. “I’ve never seen one quite like this before.”

  Nikki took the key from him and slipped the chain over her head. She fingered the brassy metal. “Let’s try a locksmith.”

  “Good thinking,” he said, with admiration in his eyes.

  “And I know the top guy in town,” she said, feeling all revved up again. She said a silent prayer that the key would lead them a step closer to learning what Godunov really wanted from her, and a step closer to finding Glenda.

  They hurried out of the bank and drove to the small shop. The owner studied the key for a few seconds. “It’s what we call a bitted key,” the hawk-faced man said. “Probably made in the l800s. Might fit an old accordion desk, antique chest, something like that.”

  Dayd was staring her as though waiting for her to confirm she had such an item. Offhand, nothing came to mind.

  Back in the car, Nikki said, “Let’s swing by my apartment. We can do two jobs at once. You can inspect the Russian’s trash while I search for the mystery lock.”

  On the way, they picked up plastic gloves and a painter’s drop cloth from Home Depot. When they got to her apartment, Nikki said, “You know, I think these search projects would go quicker if I help you sift through the trash, then we can look for the lock together. Two sets of eyes are better than one.”

  They spread the drop cloth over the carpet. Nikki slipped on plastic gloves and tossed Dayd another pair. They dug through the mound of soda cans, vodka bottles, scraps of paper and food containers that smelled like decomposing rodents.

  Nikki was beginning to think it was all a waste of time until she saw something familiar. “Bingo!” she said, holding up a receipt from ABC truck rentals. Until that moment, she hadn’t been sure the trash belonged to the kidnappers.

  Dayd waved a slip of paper with a phone number on it. “That makes this more interesting. Maybe this is Godunov’s new hideout.”

  Dayd dialed the number. He listened. His expression registered surprise. He hung up without saying anything.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It’s The Reche Canyon Nudist Camp.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  After driving all over Reche Canyon, checking roads and getting a feel for the area, Dayd and Nikki pulled up in front of a country market with two gas pumps and a wishing well at the entrance. A gentle October breeze turned the blades of a nearby windmill. As they left the car, Dayd noticed how the sunlight danced in Nikki’s hair, making it fiery and golden. He tossed some loose change into the well. “Make a wish,” he said.

  Nikki’s voice came out strong and determined. “My fervent wish is that we find Glenda and bring her home safely.”

  Dayd bri
efly closed his eyes. Let me make all her wishes come true. He opened his eyes and grinned. “Done,” he said with all the confidence he could muster.

  He took Nikki’s arm as they entered the market. The faded jeans and pale blue pullover sweater she wore molded enticingly to her curves. Her stride was light and energetic. The way she retained her stamina through all the disappointments amazed him.

  The gray-haired couple in matching western pants and cowboy shirts looked up and smiled as the bell over the door tinkled merrily. The woman tamped out her cigarette and leaned on the cash register. “Can I help you find something?” Her voice sounded like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

  “Let ‘em look a spell,” the man drawled with a cheerful bounce in his words. He continued to stock the shelves behind the counter and added, “The wife likes to save the customer time. But I say, let ‘em meander around. They buy more that way.”

  Dayd gathered up a few items to please the old man. He didn’t really need anything. He already had their picnic dinner in the trunk of his car, Russian food he’d ordered from Vladimir’s.

  He took the old man aside and asked him about the vacancy sign advertising rustic cabins he’d seen a few miles back. The old man told him they were very nice. “But the owner doesn’t do much business after school starts,” he confided. “If you folks decide to stay there, ask for cabin ten. It’s the biggest and best. Tell ‘em you want the winter discount. You’ll probably be their only customer, and they’ll be glad to give it to you.”

  Dayd thanked the man and looked around a few minutes longer before returning to Nikki’s side.

  His idea about staying over somewhere had started germinating right after Boris hit him with the news. When he saw the vacancy sign advertising the cabins, the rest of his plan fell into place. Boris would be mad as hell when they didn’t return to the hotel tonight. But Dayd wasn’t giving up his inside track with Nikki until he decided what he wanted to do about her. When Glenda was safe, he’d have time to think it through. Until then, he had to keep Nikki and Boris apart.