by Debra Webb
“Aye, aye, captain,” he replied with a wink.
As he strolled back down the road and just around the last curve, the tie pinched and the shoes chafed. He preferred his tactical gear for a reason. Distracting himself, he thought about how to play it when he made his move. By now, his face and fake name were on the guest list next to Lauren’s alias. The information had been requested by Polzin’s people via Lauren’s cell. No matter that everything was set, Mike had no more than a few seconds of surprise on his side for this next move.
He crouched low, creeping closer to the last possible ambush point out of view of the sentry stationed at the entrance gate to the long drive. Then he waited for the man assigned to the kidnapping task. People who disappointed Polzin didn’t have long life spans. If the boss wanted a redhead, Mike knew the man would deliver one.
As the minutes ticked by, he thought maybe he’d underestimated the efficiency of the crew. He set a timer on his watch for the drop-dead moment he had to abandon this idea. He and Lauren had to arrive along with the other buyers or Polzin would be suspicious.
Finally headlights came into view. When he’d confirmed it was the right car, Mike stepped out into the road and waved.
The car rocked to a stop less than a yard from Mike’s knees. “Get out of the way,” the driver shouted.
“Can you give me a ride to the party? I have a flat tire.”
The driver looked around. “Where’s your car?”
Mike jerked a thumb up the road. “Next curve. I pulled to the shoulder, but it’s narrow and I didn’t want it to get dinged.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t exactly call Triple A and expect the guard at the gate to allow them in.”
The driver’s gaze narrowed. “Why are you alone?”
“My assistant is guarding the car,” Mike said. “How about a lift? These shoes aren’t made for hiking and I don’t think Mr. Polzin will be happy if we’re late.”
“Get in.” Clearly the driver knew better than to refuse one of the guests.
“Great, thanks.” Mike opened the passenger door to an empty car. He worried he’d made a mistake until he heard a whimper from the farthest dark corner of the back seat. He couldn’t see the woman but the whimper had definitely come from a female. “What’s her problem?” he asked as he dropped into the seat.
“She gets car sick.” The driver put the sedan in gear and started up the road.
“I guess this is her lucky day.” Mike plowed a fist into the driver’s ear, and then clotheslined him. While the driver struggled to breathe, Mike jerked the steering wheel, pulling the car to the shoulder. The driver tried to accelerate, but Mike knocked the gearshift to neutral. He applied the necessary pressure to just the right points and the driver was down for the count.
“Can you drive?” Mike asked the girl as he slammed the gearshift into Park.
“Y-yes.”
Mike shoved the driver out onto the road and performed a quick three-point turn until the car was aimed away from the mansion. “Do you know where the nearest police station is?”
Standing on shaky legs, she nodded. “I’ll find it.”
“Good. Go straight there.” He hauled the unconscious driver into the trunk and used the jerk’s tie to secure his hands and feet behind him hogtie style. Mike closed the trunk and moved back to where the woman stood next to the open driver’s side door. He had to get her moving before another vehicle arrived. “Go on and get behind the wheel.” Mike urged her into the car. “Tell the police what happened.”
“But I’m just a stripper.”
Mike held her gaze. “You’re a person with rights like everyone else. You’ve escaped a kidnapping thanks to a Good Samaritan.”
“Okay.” She swiped at her tear-stained face.
Mike patted his pockets, but he hadn’t brought any real identification along tonight. “Ask for Officer Cooper at the Wilshire Precinct if you need more help.”
“Okay.”
“Hurry.” Mike stepped back as she sped away.
He loped back to the Lotus, pleased to find Lauren waiting, though she was clearly antsy about the delay. “Mission accomplished.”
“Thank God. I was worried sick.” She straightened his tie and inhaled a big breath. “You’re here now and one less woman is in danger.”
It made him happier than he wanted to admit that she had worried about him. Keep your mind on the task, Stone. Giving himself a mental kick, he drove up to the mansion and they joined the party without a glitch.
He’d suspected as much from the street, but walking in, the place redefined ostentatious. Polzin had sunk a small fortune into this event and Mike wanted to destroy it all, thinking of the women who’d suffered to give him all this. The acres of marble, the gaudy flowers, and the apathetic waiters with silver trays serving drinks and hors d’oeuvres made Mike crave a pub with a long neck beer and a simple dartboard. He hid his contempt under a hard expression and an iron will, following Lauren’s lead as his sexy as hell raven-haired assistant.
Crime happened everywhere. Mike was all too aware. But this? It was over the top offensive. Money and ego cloaked the room like a thick fog and the temptation to blow his cover, to attempt taking all of them down right now nearly overwhelmed him.
At his side, Lauren brushed her arm against his and he followed her glance toward a lavish set of doors at the far side of the main room. Vanya appeared first, leading the women from the school, each of them in a different jewel-toned gown. Did they have any idea why they were really here?
Lauren sensed the shifting focus in the room as the cocktail hour wound down and the wait staff drifted away. The women had been pleasant, smiling and chatting with each guest, though none of them approached Polzin and Vanya. This was the moment, their only window of opportunity. Polzin rose from a hideous, white leather couch and buttoned his suit coat. The other men responded, the movements rippling through the gathering like a pebble dropped into a quiet pond. Time for business.
Feeling Mike’s gaze on her, she sent him what she hoped qualified as an obedient expression as he filed out with the rest of the men. From the moment of their arrival, she’d mirrored his movements, examining the captive women as she might assess a cut of beef, despite her churning stomach. They were no more than cattle to these men. Beautiful, certainly more expensive, but definitely cattle. It was a wonder they weren’t forced to parade about completely nude.
What could’ve brought Desmond into this horrible circle? Riding another burst of outrage, she didn’t have to fake her harsh expression as she joined the other assistants herding the women into a luxurious, completely feminine salon. Plush seating areas in rose-toned upholstery had been accented with trays of champagne flutes brimming with extravagance. Under the guise of more closely examining each of the women on display, Lauren verified the placement of the two security cameras, the two doors, and the one guard. She caught Vanya’s eye, hoping the tight smile on the Russian beauty’s face was a positive sign.
“You!” Lauren snapped her fingers at a woman reaching for a flute of champagne. Everyone in the room turned her way. “Come here.”
The young woman wore a sapphire silk gown, the plunging neckline drenched with strands of pearls that rattled softly as she walked. She’d likely been presented this way to appeal to one of Polzin’s most valued customers. Lauren reached out and firmly wiped away the makeup covering the girl’s black eye. “She is disobedient?” Lauren demanded of Vanya.
“Nonsense.” Vanya rushed over. As Polzin’s mistress it was her job to maintain calm and control during the waiting period in the salon. “This is an accident. She is a good girl.”
Lauren huffed impatiently, taking her phone from her clutch and snapping a picture of the girl’s injury. “We won’t take this one or any other defective merchandise like her.”
The security guard came at her and the other assistants stepped aside, while Vanya shooed the women toward the far side of the room. Pretending devotion to Desmond had been small potato
es compared to tonight’s performance. Lauren had to give Vanya the opportunity to get the women out. Her pulse pounded in her ears, but she held her ground as the wall of a man demanded her phone and told her to leave the room. Every step closer to her gave the women one more step closer to freedom.
“No,” she replied. The only option was to plow through this nightmare. “I’m sure they are all equally unacceptable in some way.” She hit send before he seized the device. “Polzin is slipping,” she said, baiting the guard. “We all see it,” she waved a hand, encompassing the other assistants.
The guard kept his eyes on her. “You do not like the party? You can leave,” he announced.
“I don’t answer to you,” she said. She raised her chin and crossed her arms. Over his shoulder she caught swift flashes of color as Vanya urged the women out of the room.
The guard gripped Lauren’s elbow and hauled her toward the door she’d entered only minutes before. Lauren tried to dig her heels into the thick carpeting. She batted at him with her purse, making a ridiculous scene that kept all eyes on her.
When he reached for his communications link, she let loose the shrill, ear-splitting scream that horror movie directors adored. She stomped her sharp heel into the top of his foot, another move learned on the job, and practically leaped across the threshold into the hallway. She slammed the door as the others launched into a protest. Her hands shook as she turned the key Vanya had dropped into her clutch when she’d snapped that pic. The locked door wouldn’t hold long but she only needed one more minute.
Racing down the main hallway toward the courtyard at the side of the house, she prayed Mike had escaped from the buyers meeting. Her heels clattered against the marble floors, but she didn’t slow down to mute the noise. If Vanya had second thoughts or changed her mind, their escape would turn ugly any second now. Vanya was supposed to crash through the main gate if necessary. Lauren prayed the getaway would work.
Raised voices echoed behind her. Lauren kept moving, bursting through a set of French doors and into the cool night air of the rear courtyard. She turned at the sound of an engine just as the last woman disappeared into a black SUV.
Behind the wheel of the SUV, Vanya threw the car into reverse and floored it, heedless of the ruined paint jobs and dents of other vehicles she left in her wake.
“They’re clear.”
Lauren whipped around. Mike. Thank God!
“We have to move.” Mike grabbed her hand. “This way.”
“Does she know where she’s going?” Lauren hesitated, watching the SUV disappear. She couldn’t help worrying that Vanya would simply circle back and return the women to the mansion.
“I programmed the navigation system and sent an alert to an old friend in the Highway Patrol. Claudia is on standby if something goes wrong.” Mike held out his hand. “We can talk on the way. Let’s go.”
His skin was warm, his grip strong as he linked his fingers with hers. They scooted toward the line of elite vehicles, shouts dogging their steps. Bullets abruptly chipped away at the rock framing the central fountain as they hurried past. Lauren kept pace, trusting Mike to hold up his end of their risky plan.
They were nearly to the end of the driveway when he yanked the car door open and pushed her into the passenger side of their borrowed Lotus. The tight hem of her dress ripped as she struggled to right herself. Lauren clicked her seatbelt into place as Mike roared down the hill and away from the house. The gate was open, one side lying on the ground. The guard took a shot at them, hitting a fender but missing the tire as they whizzed past him.
“We can’t get too far ahead of them,” she reminded him. “Did you catch anything useful in there?”
“You mean besides the identities of the seller and all those local buyers of abducted women?” he replied, his gaze shifting between the road in front of them and the pursuers closing in. “I’m certain it’s a performance they’ll all regret for the next twenty or so years.”
“Then we did it!” Lauren laughed. “We did it!”
A bullet pinged off the driver’s side mirror. Lauren screamed.
“Hang on,” Mike ordered as he rammed the accelerator. The Lotus rocketed forward.
Lauren held her breath.
Mike kept his eyes locked on the street and the lights of Los Angeles spreading out before them. He didn’t dare look at Lauren or he’d likely drive right off the road at this speed. His body might be accustomed to the rush of adrenaline, but something was different about tonight from any of his previous missions for either the military or private sector.
The answer—damned obvious—was sitting in the passenger seat. He couldn’t ignore the facts. He’d fallen for her. Against all sense and better judgment, he’d fallen hard for her. He might tell her. If they lived through the next few hours, he’d have earned the right to tell her.
“Take off the wig,” he ordered. “Get as Lauren Marie Woods as you can.”
“What are you thinking? I’m still a person of interest in a murder investigation.”
“Exactly,” he answered. “Let’s create a Lauren Marie sighting to bring out a police response.”
“You can’t possibly believe a cop or two will deter Polzin’s henchmen?”
“We just need that bastard to blink,” he said, pleased when she tossed the black wig to the floor and removed the contacts. “I’ll give the car to a valet and we’ll hit a packed club. We can get away on foot.”
“On foot? Oh my God. You’re serious.”
“I still have a friend or two in this town.”
She slapped a hand against the door as the sleek car leaned into a curve. “Will you introduce me?”
He smiled, changing lanes to get around a dawdling truck. “They’ll ask you for autographs.”
“No way. You have friends who watch Harper Cove?”
He laughed, willing the car to reach the city before Polzin’s men caught them. “No, honey. I have friends who’d be happy to make some easy cash selling a Lauren Marie Woods autograph.”
“Oh. That makes more sense.”
If he’d expected a rant, he would’ve been disappointed. Another actress might’ve gone off on him for that crack, but not Lauren. She kept him on his toes and he liked it. “You took that news easily enough.”
“Blame it on priorities.” She looked back. “The mobsters are gaining on us.”
He glanced in the rearview mirror, knowing this would be too close for comfort, if they made it at all. Two big SUVs were closing in on them. “Lauren, if this backfires—”
“Where’s your gun?” she asked, interrupting him.
“Seized at the mansion.”
“Damn it.”
He agreed. A few more blocks and Polzin’s men would have to shoot or come after them on foot. The phone in her purse started ringing. Only Claudia had the number. As Lauren answered, he prayed it was good news while he navigated the increasing traffic on his way to The Vibe, an LA club owned by Derrick, one of his best friends from high school. He didn’t want to bring hell raining down on the place, but he might not have a choice.
“Well?” he asked when she dropped the phone back into her purse.
“Claudia says Vanya and the other women made it to the FBI office. Claudia had two agents standing by.”
“Good.” He felt her watching him and wondered what she was thinking.
“You’ve been holding out on me.”
He wasn’t surprised by the assessment. Lauren was a quick study. Not just with a costume and a role, but with everything life threw at her. She kept pushing on regardless of the obstacles, determined to reach her goals. Right now it was simple survival, but after that... well he knew she wanted to do big things on and off camera. And he wanted to be there.
He was done suppressing his attraction to her and her multi-faceted personality. She was a once in a lifetime kind of person and he didn’t want to walk away when the case was over. Somewhere along the way, Lauren had become more than a client. He had to
find a way to let her know, to show her he was sincere. Then, if the attraction and personal interest only went one-way he’d deal with the consequences.
She had no idea what he’d been withholding and chalking up to Claudia’s assistance. When he’d first met her, he saw her only as another client who didn’t need to know his friends or connections in California. Hell, he’d been ignoring his friends and connections since he’d returned from the Navy.
But all that had flipped on him while working this case for her. He was about to bring her into The Vibe as herself. That hadn’t exactly been what Derrick had agreed to. His friend would either punch him or give him a high five for showing up with a nearly A-list actress and the Krushka syndicate in tow. As Mike veered into the valet lane, he braced for anything.
Well, anything but Lauren. She emerged from the Lotus with a toss of her long blond hair and a sparkling laugh as though the murder accusation was the fantasy in this scenario. She was amazing. The rip in her dress only served to display more of those gorgeous legs.
The big SUVs behind them rolled right by, moving with the flow of traffic. The windows were down halfway, but no one fired. Had the change in disguise thrown them off so badly... or had they been called away to a different problem? The worry niggled at him. Whatever the case, Mike knew better than to assume that meant the chase was over. He reached for Lauren, enjoying the way her hand curled around his bicep as she leaned into him. He might not be armed, but for her, he thought he could conquer any trouble with his bare hands.
At the door, they were ushered inside and merging with the crowd on the dance floor within moments. Personal connections were a good thing, Mike realized for the first time in a long time. Derrick had promised his staff would grant Mike and Lauren full access tonight. It was a calculated risk, knowing Polzin’s men might attack the club, but they would’ve been cornered at the hotel or the safe house and he couldn’t take that chance.
“Your friend owns The Vibe?”
He nodded.
“Mike.” She pressed her body close to his as though her hips were compelled by the music. “You’re full of intriguing secrets.”