“Rudi liked Durand,” Hope said. “He never believed me when I told him Durand took liberties.” They heard her swallow hard. “I guess I should count myself lucky. I heard rumours, things he did to other women. H-he hurt them.”
There was a heavy silence. Dimitri’s thigh was stone under Megan’s touch.
“You were telling us about that evening,” Joe prompted. His gentle tone was at odds with the rage that had turned his face into a vicious mask.
Megan glanced around the room and noticed all of the men wore the same look. It was clear Durand’s days were numbered. And that thought warmed Megan’s heart no end. She hadn’t been around the man for more than an hour, but it had been enough. He emanated evil. His eyes were shark flat and he got off on pain. Yeah, she could just imagine what he would do to any women he managed to get his hands on.
“As the evening went on,” Hope said into the tense silence, “the VIP guests began to mingle with the women. They seemed to be choosing a companion from amongst them. Some of the men disappeared with the woman they’d singled out.” They could hear the woman fidgeting with something as her voice began to shake. “I’d had too much to drink. I thought at the time they were call girls, brought in for the party.”
“But now you don’t think so,” Joe gently prompted.
“No,” Hope whispered.
“Tell us why, Hope.” Joe stared at Dimitri as he spoke.
Megan had a very bad feeling about this. Very bad. She turned to Dimitri. The man had morphed into stone. He was staring at nothing and his muscles were tightly coiled as though ready to strike.
“It was the photos you sent me,” Hope whispered. “I recognised two of the women.”
Dimitri stopped breathing. Megan began to panic and tightened her grip on his thigh.
“Who did you recognise?” Joe said.
There was a pause before Hope’s words hit Dimitri with more accuracy than a sniper’s bullet.
“Amanda Freer and Katrina Raast.”
Chapter Eight
Megan felt the tension build in Dimitri’s body just before it exploded. He shot to his feet sending his chair flying behind him. His palms hit the table with a loud smack as he leaned towards the phone.
“Where is she? What happened to Katrina?” he shouted.
“Dimitri, calm down or leave the room.” Callum’s words cracked like a whip, cutting through Dimitri’s rage.
Megan watched as Dimitri forced himself to take a deep breath.
“Hope, you still there?” Joe’s tone was coaxing.
“Y-yes.”
“Honey, you have to cut Dimitri some slack. Katrina Raast is his sister.”
There was a gasp. “I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” The woman was rushing towards hysteria.
Joe clenched the back of his neck, keeping an eye on Dimitri.
“It’s not your fault, Hope. None of this is your fault,” Joe soothed.
Dimitri’s fingernails bit into the polished surface of the table.
“If I hadn’t been drunk that night.” Hope’s words tumbled out in a rush, as though she was speaking to herself and had forgotten she was on the phone. “I shouldn’t have drunk anything. If I’d been sober I would have known something was wrong. I would have been able to do something to help. Oh no, oh no, those women.” The last words were a wail.
“You couldn’t have done anything.” Joe’s voice was strong. Firm. “Dimitri knows that. He isn’t blaming you. You did what you could to make it through your time there. Things weren’t easy for you either. If you’d spoken out or interfered, Rudi would have killed you. Hell, he nearly did anyway.”
“No, no. No you’re wrong. I shouldn’t have been drunk. I should have paid attention. I should have…”
“You should have nothing.” Dimitri cut through her rant. His words were squeezed through clenched teeth as though he fought to get them out. “Joe is right. There was nothing you could have done. You were in the same position as all the other women. Your life was in Rudi’s hands. I don’t blame you, Hope. I blame the bastard who took my sister. I don’t blame you.”
Megan placed a hand on Dimitri’s back, offering comfort, but he tensed then stepped out of her reach.
“See?” Joe ran a hand through his overgrown hair, making it stand on end. “No one blames you. Don’t even think about feeling guilty. This is all on Abramovich. All of it.”
There was a single, agonising sob from the other end of the line. Joe cast a panicked glance at Callum. Callum’s lips were in a tight thin line. He nodded once at Joe before stepping towards the table.
“This is Callum McKay,” he said in a calm, confident voice that instantly made Megan relax. She hoped it had the same effect on the woman at the other end of the line. “Joe told you I’m in charge around here, didn’t he?”
There was silence, interspersed by tiny muffled sobs.
“Hope.” It was a snapped command. “Listen to me now.”
“Yes.” Her voice trembled, but she seemed to calm.
“Good. Now here’s the thing. You couldn’t have done anything to save those women a year ago, but the information you’re giving us now will help us to find them and stop other women from being harmed. Do you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes.” It was hesitant, but it wasn’t hysterical.
“Then believe me when I say that what you can tell us is invaluable. Focus on that. Not on the past. We can’t do anything to change the past, but we can change the future—with your help. And we need your help, Hope. Are you willing to give that to us right now?”
“Yes, yes, I want to help. What can I do?” She sniffed, but the panic had fled her voice.
Joe visibly relaxed. He nodded at Callum then took over the conversation again. Callum stepped back to his spot at the whiteboard.
“That’s good, honey,” Joe said. “Real good. We need you to tell us everything you remember about the night you saw the women. Especially anything you remember relating to Katrina. Can you do that for us?”
“I was so drunk, Joe. I’m not sure what help I’ll be.”
“Anything at all is good. No matter how insignificant it may seem. Just try to relax and focus on that night. Can you remember which man chose Katrina?”
Dimitri shut his eyes. His hands turned to fists on the table. His knuckles were white. Megan’s hand twitched to touch him again. The silence in the room was thick, making it difficult to breathe.
“She had on a yellow dress.” Hope sounded hesitant, as though she was feeling her way through the memory. “I remember thinking that I recognised the dress—I’d seen it on a runway in Paris. She stood closer to the door than the other women and seemed to sway on her feet. At least, I think she was the one swaying. It could have been me.” She took a deep breath. “I remember Rudi being mad at me for being so drunk. He took my champagne glass out of my hand and ordered me to my room. I headed for the door nearest the women. As I made my way across the room, a man approached Katrina and took her arm. He said something to her. I was too far away to hear what it was, but she didn’t react. He handed her off to his bodyguards and they took her from the room. The man watched her until she disappeared. I remember she staggered and I thought she was as drunk as I felt.”
“Can you name the man?” Joe said. “Had you seen him before then?”
“He wasn’t a politician, he was a businessman, based in Dubai, I think. I’m pretty sure he was French. Yes, he definitely spoke French. I remember meeting him at lunch one day, at the club, and thinking that the French accent wasn’t sexy on some men.”
Callum nodded at Elle who began typing furiously at her laptop.
“Think hard,” Joe said. “Can you give us a name? A business? Tell us what he looked like? Anything at all, no matter how small or insignificant.”
“He was fit. Obviously worked out. Middle aged, I think. There was grey at his temples.” She paused then let out a gush of air. “I can’t remember a name. I’m s
orry, that’s all I can remember about him. There was nothing remarkable. Nothing that stood out.”
“Okay.” Joe ran a hand over his face. “Can you remember what happened after Katrina was taken from the room. What did the man do then?”
“Yes, I remember this, because I stumbled and Durand caught me before I fell. He held me a little too long and I looked over to see if my husband noticed. Rudi had his head together with the Frenchman, whispering. Then they shook hands and Rudi patted him on the back. He was grinning widely, the way he did when things went well for him. After the man strode away, I thought I saw Rudi put something in his pocket. At that point he noticed me and ordered his men to escort me to our suite. I didn’t see the Frenchman after that.”
Callum looked over to Elle, who shook her head. There wasn’t enough information for her to search.
“That’s it, Joe,” Hope said. “That’s all I remember right now. I’m sorry it isn’t more.”
“Don’t be, honey. You did good,” Joe said, but his eyes were on Dimitri’s tension-filled body. “We really appreciate it. If you remember anything else, call us, no matter what time it is. Okay?”
“Yes.” The woman sounded tired. Worn out.
“And Hope?” Callum stepped towards the phone. “Call a friend to stay with you. You are not to feel guilty about any of the decisions you made while with Abramovich. Make sure your friend keeps you occupied. Get your mind off this for a while. Understood?” It was a series of orders barked out by a commander to his subordinate.
“Understood.” There was a smile in her voice.
“Okay then.” Callum reached across the table and pressed the button to end the call.
The room was silent. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. All eyes were on Dimitri. Slowly, he opened his eyes, uncurled from his position and flexed his hands. He reached behind him for his fallen chair. Megan thought he intended to straighten it. She jerked in her seat when he threw it at the wall, smashing it to pieces. Then without a word, he strode from the room.
“Poor sod,” Ryan said as they watched Dimitri leave.
“Joe,” Callum said. “Go after him. Keep an eye on him.”
“I’ll do it.” Megan stood. The guys looked sceptical. “Chill, guys. I can be sensitive.”
She ignored the looks of patent disbelief and went in search of Dimitri.
She found him in one of the unfinished offices on the second floor. The room was dark and he’d slid down the wall to sit on the floor beside the window. She paused as she watched him. His hands were clasped behind his head and his eyes were closed. Every muscle in his body radiated tension. There may as well have been a neon sign above his head with the words “back off” on it.
Megan had never been one to pay attention to signs. Without a word she crossed the room and slid down the wall to sit beside him. She brought her knees up to her chest and cuddled them to her body. Dimitri didn’t acknowledge her presence in any way, and that was fine. Megan was content to sit beside him and offer her silent support while he worked out his inner turmoil alone. She stared out into the cloud-covered sky as she listened to the rain fight with the traffic noise on the street below. It was strangely peaceful. A temporary cocoon against the horrors that pressed in on them.
“I wish she could have given us a name.” Dimitri sounded hoarse, as though he’d been crying when she knew he hadn’t.
There was nothing she could say. They all wished they’d been given a lead to follow. Instead, all they’d been given was the horrid confirmation that Katrina had indeed been sold into slavery. Megan’s stomach roiled just thinking those words.
“She never even had a boyfriend.” Dimitri’s eyes were on the dull sky. “Not someone serious anyway. She joined that purity for marriage group. She told me she was saving herself for her wedding night. And I told her, there are some topics a brother didn’t want to discuss with his sister. Right at the top of the list is her sex life.” His fingers dug into the back of his neck. “She started a blog about it. She said it was important to get different voices out there, for people to know that all sorts of choices were normal.”
He fell silent. He didn’t need to say anything else. The dreadfulness of it wasn’t lost on Megan. His sister’s first sexual experience hadn’t been on her wedding night. It hadn’t even been at the hands of someone who loved her. It was just one of the many things stolen from her, along with her freedom.
“She won’t be the same.” It was a tight declaration, filled with agony that made Megan want to pour herself out in an attempt to soothe him. “Even if we manage to get her back. She won’t be the same. You can’t live through something like this and not change. She was always so freaking hopeful, naive even. That will be gone now.”
Megan leaned her head against his shoulder and stayed silent. There was nothing she could even think to say that would lessen his burden. There were no reassuring words, no promises, that would help. All she could do was use her presence to let him know she shared his pain.
After a long moment, Dimitri shifted. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her tight to his side. Together they watched the rain fall down on London.
Chapter Nine
Megan didn’t know how long she’d spent sitting with Dimitri, but by the time Joe came to get him for a meeting with Callum, night had fallen. Something subtle had shifted between them in the hours they’d sat in silence. Megan was very aware of the dull throb of pain Dimitri carried around with him every minute of every day. It was a pain that spoke to the heart of her and connected them in ways she couldn’t understand. It also made her long for her own sister.
Once the men had disappeared into Callum’s office, Megan headed up to her flat. She grabbed a bagel from their tiny kitchen and made herself a mug of steaming hot tea. The corridor outside her flat led out onto a metal fire escape, the top of which was a mesh platform. It was a poor man’s balcony, affording her a view over the rooftops towards Big Ben. Not that she could see the famous clock through the buildings, but it was enough to know it was there.
She sat on the kitchen chair she’d dragged outside while the kettle boiled and dialled her sister. The rain had stopped hours ago, but the sky was still heavy and the air sharp. She shivered in her yoga pants and padded jacket.
“Twin Two!” Claire’s voice in her ear made Megan simultaneously grin and tear up.
“Don’t tell me you’re using Joe’s stupid nicknames now.”
“I kind of like them.” Megan could hear the grin in her sister’s voice. “It makes me think of Dr Seuss. You know, Thing One and Thing Two.”
“I know.” Megan had been trying to get Claire to upgrade her pop culture references to something an adult would use, but the kindy teacher could not be taught. “How are you? How’s my niece?”
“You idiot. It’s too early to tell the sex of the baby.” Claire’s voice softened with wonder.
“Son!” came the shout from the background.
“I hope the caveman you married gets twin girls.” Megan knew her grin was evil.
Unfortunately, Claire couldn’t see it. “Oh that would be so cool,” was her enthusiastic response.
“Yes, it would.” Megan knew she would make an awesome aunt. Plus they knew how to be twins. Think of all the advice they could pass along to younger girls. It would be invaluable to them.
“What’s up?” Claire said. “I can hear it in your voice.”
Megan closed her eyes and rested her head back against the cool stone wall. Damn, but she missed her twin. They might not have the psychic connection they’d dreamed of having as kids, but no one knew her—no one understood her—like Claire.
“We’re meeting Rudi on Friday, I kissed Dimitri and I don’t think Benson Security is going to keep me on when this job is over.” Her worries came out in a gush and she felt much better. She looked out over the rows of roofs identical to the one behind her. A conclave of Regency homes turned into offices and flats.
“Wow.”
“Tha
t’s it? That’s all you have to say? I need more.” She bit into the bagel.
“Okay, we’ll deal with the mundane first and work our way up to juicy. Rudi first. My advice is don’t get yourself killed.”
“Helpful.” It was interesting what her twin thought was mundane.
“I try. As for keeping you on, of course they will. You’re a natural at this security stuff. Look how you handled the situation at the castle. You’re an asset to any team.”
“I appreciate your support, but we both know I’m a liability.” Something she would only admit to her sister. She took a deep breath and filled her sister in on the events from the night before—sparing no detail of her gastronomic disaster. There was silence, then deep, very male laughter. “Claire! Do you have me on speaker phone?”
“Sorry,” came the contrite reply. “I’m knitting a baby blanket and wanted to work while I talked.”
Great, now her brother-in-law knew what a screw up she was. She heard more laughing, Claire ordering Grunt to leave the room and a door slamming shut.
“Sorry about that,” Claire said. “Next time give me a heads up that we’re talking about something that needs privacy.”
“I don’t suppose it matters.” Megan sipped her tea. “Joe will fill Grunt in next time they talk anyway.”
There was a giggle. “Did you really fart on the bad guy?”
Megan groaned. “It was humiliating. I didn’t think it was possible to feel mortified, furious and terrified all at the same time. All I could think about was getting the gun out of my face and getting home to my toilet. I’m never going to live this down, am I?”
“Probably not. But look, you also proved you are capable. You disarmed the guy. Don’t sell yourself short. You can do this job. You just need time to settle in.”
This was why she missed her sister so badly. No one on the planet had her back like Claire did. “I don’t know. There are literally millions of ex-service men and women out there. All of them way more suited to being a gun-for-hire than I am. I might as well face the fact that once my usefulness is over, I’ll be back on the plane home.” A car honked in the street beside her and she became aware of the constant white noise of London. “I really don’t want to lose this job, Claire. For the first time in my life I feel like I fit. Like I’ve found what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Reckless (Benson's Boys Book 1) Page 7