His heart knocked against his ribs. “You’re kidding!”
“Most of what you’ve learned has been the truth. She did graduate from Rutger’s with a law degree. After passing the New York bar, she went to work for a legal firm that deals in immigration and naturalization law with an office in New York. The home office is in Miami. I’m presuming they sent her here to open up a branch in San Diego.
“She married Paul Andrew, a native of Miami Beach, who was an ESL teacher in the Coral Creek School District in Miami. Two and a half years later he was killed along with another teacher while they were out deep-sea fishing. I saw the newspaper article. There was a squall and they were lost at sea.”
Max grew restless. “So what do you think? I know what I saw on her legal pad.”
“I hear you. Maybe she got involved with the mafia in Miami.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Maybe her husband found out and somebody eliminated him.”
“That’s a real possibility. It means the same thing could happen to you.”
“There’s no way I’m pulling out, Gideon.”
“Forget her!”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” he replied. “But more to the point, I’m being set up for Saturday night. Before Karl takes me off this case and sends me to another part of the country, he needs to understand this could be the opportunity we’ve been waiting for to get those names pinned down.”
“He won’t go for it!”
“He will when he hears my plan. Just listen to me. I’m going to need your help.”
AT FIVE AFTER TWO on Friday afternoon, Gaby saw her client to the door, then walked back to her mini fridge for a drink while she called Dr. Karsh on her cell phone.
The receptionist put her through to him.
“Gaby? How are you, my dear?”
“I’m fine, Dr. Karsh. Thanks for letting me talk to you over the phone.”
“Any time. You know that. How does San Diego feel to you by now?”
“At first it was hard living here, but I’ve learned to enjoy it.”
“I’m proud of you, Gaby. You could have gone home to your parents. Instead, you’ve stuck it out on your own. I’m sure you’re stronger and better for it. When you lose a spouse through death or divorce, you need a few years to find out who you are again. That doesn’t happen as easily when loved ones surround you and try to remove all the hurdles.”
“You’re right. As you know, my family is the type to suffocate you with love.”
“Lucky you.”
“Yes. I’m very blessed.”
“All right. So who’s the lucky man in your life?”
She almost dropped her cola. “What do you mean?”
“I presume you’ve met one. Isn’t that the reason for this call?”
“Well, yes, but it’s not what you think,” she declared, pacing the floor.
He chuckled. “You’re attracted and feel guilty about it. That’s very common for a woman who had a solid marriage like yours and wanted children. Would you have expected your husband to stay celibate if you’d been the one who died so young?”
“Of course not, but it isn’t that simple. This man has a fiancée.”
“If he’s seeing both of you at the same time, then you don’t need me to tell you what’s wrong with that picture.”
“No. She’s in Russia.” At least I think she is. Uncle Frank hasn’t phoned me yet to tell me otherwise.
“Except for one visit in six years, they’ve been separated the entire time. I’m working to help her get a visa through so she can come for another visit. Before he left Russia they were planning to be married, but now he’s not sure. He’ll be an American citizen soon and says he needs to see her again before he can make a commitment.”
“That sounds reasonable. I’m assuming the attraction between the two of you is mutual.”
“It’s very strong on my part,” she said honestly.
“He acts like he’s interested in me, too. But how can I know for sure? With us everything’s so complicated.”
“How long have you known him?”
She felt her face go hot. “Less than a week.”
“Your feelings are this intense already?”
“Now do you understand why I’m calling? Is there something wrong with me?”
“No, of course not.” He chuckled. “Once in a while chemistry can be very powerful, almost overwhelming, between people on a first meeting.”
“That’s my problem, you see. This is the first man since Paul. I seem to have come back to life with a vengeance!”
Last night when he’d driven her back home from the jail, he’d dropped her off in front of the building, then waited until he’d seen her light go on in the apartment. She’d thought he would want to come in. When he didn’t, she couldn’t believe how disappointed she was.
“That’s good. Healthy. Are you feeling extra guilty because you slept with him?”
“No! I mean, I haven’t slept with him yet, but I want to. And yes, I feel guilty for having such thoughts.”
“Because you feel you’re betraying Paul’s memory?”
“Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe about it. But I sense something else going on. Tell me. Did you sleep with your husband before you were married?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She could hear her mother’s voice. Nice Catholic Girls don’t do things like that until after the marriage, Gabriella. You listen to me. I know what I’m talking about.
“Partly my upbringing. Partly because Paul was a good Catholic boy. He wasn’t aggressive, and I didn’t know anything,” she mumbled.
“But with this man, everything’s different.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me how.”
“I don’t know exactly. He’s very sensual. Demonstrative.”
“The opposite of Paul?”
“Yes. Paul was shy.”
“And now that you’ve been married, you know what goes on.”
She blushed again. “Yes.”
“Why do I get the feeling this man isn’t a good Catholic boy?”
“Are you psychic, Dr. Karsh?”
He scoffed. “Since I know you stopped going to Mass years ago, it sounds to me like you’re feeling guilty for not picking someone who would please your parents.”
“Not if he ends up being imprisoned or deported.”
After a long silence, “You think he’s some kind of criminal? Russian mafia maybe?”
“I don’t know!” she blurted in agony.
“What kind of proof do you have?”
Quickly she related the story about the accident and Anatoly’s subsequent pursuit of her.
“In other words, you have no evidence, only fear.”
“Yes.”
“Then this is my advice. Until he provides you with something concrete, give yourself permission to get to know him, but don’t complicate things by sleeping with him. It’s too soon under any circumstances. Your judgment will be much sounder if you won’t allow the physical side to take over.”
“Have you got any ideas how to prevent that from happening?” Every time Anatoly’s hand clasped hers, which seemed to be all the time, her body turned to liquid.
“I’m afraid all I can do is counsel you the way I’ve done my daughters. Enjoy activities where you’re not alone, say good-night before you want to. That sort of thing.”
“Wise counsel, Doctor. I’m going to try to follow it. Thank you for listening to me blab.”
“It was my pleasure. Call me anytime, Gaby.”
“Don’t worry. You’re not rid of me yet.”
“Be careful, won’t you?”
“I will.”
She clicked off and finished the rest of her drink.
What she’d really wanted from Dr. Karsh was for him to tell her Anatoly wasn’t doing illegal things. But that wasn’t in his power. She would have to wait to hear from her uncle on that score. St
ill, she was glad she’d talked to her doctor.
He’d helped her survive Paul’s death to the point that she’d made a new life in California, and she really was starting to enjoy it. As long as she kept taking his advice, she couldn’t get into too much trouble. Just talking to him had helped clear away some of the cobwebs.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“YOU’RE LATE from school, Irina,” Nikolai said. “What kept you?”
It was Friday afternoon. Irina knew her mother’s boyfriend would be at the apartment, and so had put off coming home as long as possible. The brawny, dark-blond man terrified her.
“Where’s my mother?”
“Like her daughter, she, too, is late getting home.” He kicked the door shut behind her.
Irina’s mouth went dry. “Dance club went on longer than I expected,” she lied. “I’ll just put my things away.” She dashed to her bedroom.
Another dreaded weekend was here again. Nikolai’s associates came to her mother’s apartment on Fridays. They talked until the middle of the night while they ate and drank and filled the rooms with their disgusting cigarette smoke. They did other things, too.
Last week one of the men had opened her bedroom door after she’d gone to bed. Irina had screamed and it had brought her mother.
“It’s all right, Irina,” she’d tried to reassure her daughter. “Alexey was only looking for the bathroom. He didn’t mean to frighten you. Go back to sleep.”
Irina had known exactly what was going on. Those things had happened in Russia to girls much younger than her. It was a curse to be attractive. Now that she’d turned sixteen, guys at school were starting to look at her differently. So were the men. It wouldn’t be long before one of them made it to her bedroom and her mother wouldn’t be able to stop him.
Since the death of her father almost a year before, there had been several men who’d slept over, but in time they’d moved on. She’d hated all of them, but it wasn’t until her mother had brought home Nikolai that Irina had entertained the idea of getting a gun and killing him.
After the first week of knowing her mother, he’d taken over their lives and told Irina what she could and could not do in her own home. He had a key and acted as if he lived here.
She’d pleaded with her mother not to let him come around with his friends anymore, but her mother had said it was okay because they’d started living better than they had before. There was more money for food and nice things.
Irina didn’t care about that. She wished their family had never come to America in the first place. After they’d arrived, her father had changed into someone she didn’t know. He’d grown secretive and argued with her mother, who’d cried a lot at night. Before his fatal car crash, he’d at least been there to protect them. Now there was no one….
Nikolai followed her into the kitchen. Having arrived ahead of her and her mother, he’d left the usual supply of vodka and cognac on the counter. He’d also made tea.
“Our guests will show up any minute now and they’ll be hungry. We have a lot of business to discuss and are starting early. I expect you to do as you’re told and give the men what they ask for.”
She had a feeling he didn’t mean just food.
With the blood pounding in her ears from fright, she hurried over to the refrigerator. Inside was a large pot of stew her mother had prepared the night before. Irina put it on the stove to heat up.
“I’ll make bliny to go with the rassolnik,” she muttered, praying for her mother to get home.
“We’ll want plenty of sour cream and jam with those.”
He lounged against the counter smoking a cigarette, watching her through hooded eyes. She could sense something horrible was going to happen.
With jerky movements she assembled the ingredients for the pancakes. It was when she reached into the bin for the flour that he moved close and pinned her against the counter with his powerful body. Then he began a slow exploration of her thighs with his hands.
She broke out in a cold sweat. “Please don’t do that,” she begged.
“Why not?” he inquired in a silky voice, his cigarette dangling from his lips. “Don’t you like it?”
She averted her head. “No.”
“In time you will.”
“Irina?”
By some miracle her mother was home. Thank God.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she called out, faint with relief. Nikolai smiled, making her skin crawl, before he removed his hands.
He knew she wouldn’t dare tell her mother anything. The repercussions wouldn’t be worth it. Nikolai had a violent temper, one that flared for no good reason. He would beat her mother savagely if she tried to protect Irina.
“What took you so long, Galena?” he demanded as her mother entered the kitchen. But instead of allowing her to respond, he tossed his cigarette in the sink and began kissing her.
“Nikolai, not in front of—”
“Your daughter’s a big girl now. Almost as beautiful as her mama. She understands these things.”
Irina turned away. Bile rose in her throat. But if she vomited in the sink, her mother would want to know why. Then Nikolai would inflict his punishment. She had no choice but to continue making the pancakes.
“Oleg and Alexey came in the door with me,” she heard her mother whisper.
“Then you’d better take tea to them.”
When he ordered her mother around like that, Irina wanted to plunge a knife between his shoulder blades.
After her mother left the kitchen with the tea tray, Nikolai turned to her again. “You’re a very smart girl, Irina. In some ways prettier than your mama. An important man will be here in a few minutes. His name is Yevgeny Babichenko.
“If you please him, he’ll give you things you never dreamed of. Clothes, a car. Maybe even your own apartment. If you don’t please him, that will not please me. You understand what I’m saying?”
Irina nodded, but inside she was shuddering.
“Finish the pancakes, then go put on a nice dress.”
After what had happened in the kitchen just now, Irina would rather die than let any man touch her again. As she was finding out, rape was something that happened everywhere, not just in Russia. No place was safe for a girl. She vowed it would never happen to her.
“I only have one good dress. It’s downstairs in the laundry room. You know, where I iron for other people on Saturdays.”
His eyes glittered. “What color is it?”
She swallowed hard. Nikolai had seen through her ploy.
“It’s a blue-flowered print.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
Now that she’d made that vow to herself, a calm came over her. “You’ll need a key to the laundry room.”
She pulled it from a hook next to the window overlooking the back alley. As she handed it to him, she said, “You’ll have to hunt for the dress. It’s hanging on the line with some other things.”
“While I’m gone, put a little makeup on.” He pinched her cheek so hard the pain brought tears to her eyes. “You’re too pale. We can’t have that. Yevgeny is expecting the surprise I told him about to be special.”
He finally left the kitchen. Through the crack in the door she watched him greet his friends before he headed for the apartment entrance.
“Where are you going?”
“Relax, Galena. I’m doing an errand for Irina. Why don’t you finish pouring the tea for our guests, hmm? I’ll be right back.”
The second he disappeared, Irina moved the case of vodka to the floor beneath the window. With heart pounding, she undid the lock and tugged on the handle with all her might.
When it opened enough to let her through, she stepped on top of the case and climbed out onto the fire escape. After closing the window, she raced down the three flights of stairs.
Under any other circumstances she would have been afraid to make the huge final drop to the ground. But fear of Nikolai had her running on pure adrenaline.
; She held on to the bottom rung, then dangled in the air for a moment before letting go. Thankfully she was wearing sneakers. The impact wasn’t as jarring as she’d thought it would be.
Free at last, it didn’t matter where she went now. The only important thing was to get as far away from Nikolai as possible. As soon as he discovered she was missing, he would send his network of people, including the men at the apartment, on a relentless search for her.
She dashed to the end of the alley, then cut across the main street. It was close to six o’clock now. Everything was crowded with people going home from work. Unable to dodge the traffic on the sidewalk fast enough, she managed to get on a bus headed for the Marina District.
Twenty minutes later she got off at a corner where there was a park, then started running across the grass. If she remembered correctly, there was a big shopping center beyond it. She would lose herself inside until she found a phone.
There was only enough money in her pocket to make one call. The woman at the school assembly had said the number was easy to remember. Just dial VILLAGE.
AFTER MAX MADE his last delivery for Friday afternoon, he headed for Gabriella’s apartment. On the way, he called the guy running surveillance at her office.
“Calder here. Tell me what went on today.”
“She had clients coming and going until two. Around three, there was a call from someone in the State Department named Joe who sounded on friendly terms with her.
“He told her that the temporary student visa for Natasha Azarnova, which had been denied, has now gone through. He had it sent to her address in Moscow.”
So…Ms. Peris could move mountains. But she still didn’t have a clue that all that information had been planted.
“After his call she had two more clients, then she left.”
Max pursed his lips. “You can’t account for the time between two and three?”
“No. But she didn’t leave her office.”
That meant she’d been talking to the doctor. “What did your research turn up on Karsh?”
“He’s a renowned psychiatrist who has run a top psychiatric hospital in Miami Beach for over twenty years. He’s a native Floridian, president-elect of the Florida Psychiatric Association.”
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