Deep Into The Night (Hartz Island Series) (16 page)

BOOK: Deep Into The Night (Hartz Island Series)
3.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Chapter Twenty-Four

S
houting Russian words, he slapped her hard across her face, sending her sprawling against their dresser. This time, she was ready. Hidden under her scarf was a butcher knife so sharp it could cut tissue paper. Arrogantly, he stood sneering, screaming names no one should ever hear. Never again would she allow anyone to steal her dreams. Gripping the knife, she turned, and with all her force, she plunged into his chest and pulled the knife down to his balls. White powder poured out.

“You are no longer the House of Dong.”

His meaty hand grabbed her around the throat, squeezing until she could no longer breathe.

Cassie woke gasping for air, her heart racing. She pushed herself up in the bed, trying to catch her breath. It had been a dream, but so real. Taking several breaths, she blew them out slowly, trying to calm down.

The other side of the bed was empty, though it had been slept in. Where was Jack? Russian filtered into the room with Jack repeating the words. It had been a dream, but she had heard Russian. He seemed very determined and convinced they could pull off the charade. From the sounds of his pronunciation, Jack was better at languages than he claimed.

Thinking about last night, she owed Jack an apology. She’d been tired and upset, but still that was no excuse to call him a pig. When she found her jeans clean and folded on the bathroom counter, it made her feel even worse.

Dressed for work, Jack sat at the kitchen counter looking at his iPad.

“Good morning,” she said.

He answered her in Russian. She smiled. He didn’t sound too bad. Pointing to the coffee, he said words she didn’t recognize. Cassie refilled his cup first, and then poured a cup for herself. She slid onto the stool next to him and listened while he repeated the lessons.

When he finished she said, “I think someone is a lot better at languages than they claim. Also, I’m sorry for calling you a pig. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Apology accepted.” Jack closed the tablet and entered the kitchen galley and stood across from her. “Are you hungry?”

“I am. Something smells good.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

His mouth twitched, and his eyes glittered with humor, like he had some big secret. Jack purposely blocked her view. When he finished, he held two plates up above her vision, walked around to where they sat, and very ceremoniously placed her plate in front of her, and then set his down.

“May I present your breakfast? Pigs in a blanket, piggy sausages, and please eat some crow.”

She recognized everything but the crow—a scoop of dark brown goo with some lighter brown mixed in. Laughing she said, “I suppose I deserve this.” She pointed to the brown goo. “Is it edible?”

Jack scooped up his small mound and popped it in his mouth. “I guess so.”

Cassie took a fingertip and dipped it, and then smelled it. Nutella and peanut butter. “I swear you’re going to die of cardiac failure.”

Before he could answer, a text dinged through, and then another. “It seems one of the languages you recorded last night was Laotian. Do you think that’s what you heard yesterday on South Jackson? It fits the territory.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I need to get going. It’s already nine. What are you going to do today?”

“Everything I didn’t get done yesterday.” Not wanting to elaborate, Cassie deliberately stuffed a sausage in her mouth. Jack looked at her a little longer than she liked, so she stuffed another one in. “I’m really hungry.”

After what seemed like an eternity, he headed down the hall. Cassie let out her breath.

“So,” he called, “you’re still set with the key, credit card, and everything.” He now stood in front of her with his things. “I’ll be back no later than six. Heather will meet us at the office at eight-thirty to wire us up.”

Cassie continued to nod her head and walked him to the door.

“Lock up behind me,” he reminded her.

She gave him the thumbs up. “Got it.”

Jack stopped, tipped her chin up, and stared deep into her soul. What she saw in his eyes made her stomach flutter. “I’m not a pig, but…I am a guy.” Gathering her in his arms, he kissed her long and hard. When he finished he said, “I’m not going to apologize for it either.” He left and shut the door firmly.

Heat poured through her, and her legs wobbled. Cassie leaned against the door for support. When her heart stopped pounding and she caught her breath, only one word came to mind. “Wow.”

Unable to think of anything but the kiss, Cassie cleaned up the kitchen and headed to Jack’s closet to pick out his clothes for the night. She stood in the corner looking at the assortment of suits and shirts. An odd feeling overwhelmed her. A chill settled in the small room, and she shivered. Jack’s scent was strong, but then it should be because she stood in his closet. A cool breeze touched her cheeks, and she smelled her mother’s perfume.

“Mom?” she whispered.

Her mother’s scent was so fragrant it tickled her nose. It felt like she stood next to her. She heard, “You must trust and be truthful, Cassandra Marie, and he will open his heart.”

If her legs had wobbled before, they now shook. Cassie leaned against the closet wall, trying to make sense of it all. She called for her mother again, but it was gone. More than anything, she wished she could talk to Alexa.

Without thinking about where she was driving, Alexa pulled into the drop-off lane of her daughters’ school. When the school attendant opened the door, she realized her mistake. Alexa had been asked to be the Chairman for the third grade play and needed to pick up information.

“Go ahead girls. Get on out with Miss Mary.”

She didn’t want to mess up the drop-off lane. Alexa proceeded out and swung back around, but this time, she entered the correct parking area. Instead of the five minutes like she planned, Alexa spent an additional fifteen minutes of socializing. Now she was slightly behind schedule for the refresher self-defense course that Eduardo insisted she take. She strolled across the drop-off lane to the parking lot. A man exited his BMW and blocked the entrance to her vehicle.

“Where’s your fucking bitch friend?” Bitch sounded like beach.

Not intimidated, Alexa took her time answering and stared him up and down. “I don’t know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you anyway. Now get away from my car.”

“You American bitches are all alike.”

“What do you want, Koslov?”

“I want my money back. That bitch is going to pay when I get done with her.” The blockish built Russian stood there with his legs apart, hands on his hips, sneering. “You rich bitches all stick together.”

Fury exploded inside of her. Alexa took two steps forward and kneed him in his balls. He gasped and swore even more, slightly bent forward. “That one was for Cassie. Now I told you once, and I’ll tell you again, but next time I won’t be so nice.
Get
away from my car.”

“Bitch. You fuckin’ think that’s going to scare me?”

This time Alexa wasn’t so nice. Fast and furious, she reached down, grabbed his balls, and twisted. Sergei screamed in pain. “Don’t let this Beverly Hills façade fool you. I grew up on a ranch in Eastern Oregon, and I was slicing off calf balls before you knew what to do with yours. If you ever come near me or my daughters again, you will regret it. Now get away from my car. If I see you anywhere in my vicinity, I will call the police.”

It took all of her control to stay calm and watch him leave. Trembling, she climbed in her car. Earlier, she’d thought the refresher course was silly. Now she didn’t.

Chapter Twenty-Five

W
ithout even thinking why, Jack Wyatt exited the Alaskan Way viaduct and headed up South Jackson Street. It seemed his Tahoe read his mind. He made a U-turn in front of the lab and parked. He owed it to himself and Cassie to make sure he was a clean machine. After the way she kissed him back, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off from having sex with her. If that’s what she called pig behavior, then he guessed he was a pig.

Just like the lab advertised, he was in and out in fifteen minutes, but he paid extra for fast results, like that afternoon. For a moment, Jack sat in his truck and watched the nearby café, trying to decide what to do. He doubted anyone would talk to him, but it was worth a try. He prepped his phone for video record and positioned it in his pocket. Jack grabbed his iPad and headed toward the café. A woman exited with a broom and started sweeping by the door. He opened the tablet and asked if she spoke English. Like he expected, she didn’t or wouldn’t, but he kept showing her the picture of the tattoo. He had no idea what language she spoke, but it was loud and her broom kept hitting him in the legs. Message received, language recorded, that was the best he was going to get.

Taking a break from the afternoon meetings, Jack sat on the edge of his desk and stared at the whiteboard where he’d diagrammed all the tattoo sightings. At the moment, he was waiting to hear back from his Canadian counterpart. He’d drawn a big question mark and then Victoria next to it. To him it was a missing puzzle piece along with Rob Armstrong. More and more, it looked like a sex-trafficking ring coming out of Canada, with Armstrong leading the operation. The recorded languages had come back Laotian and Thai. It was not unusual for people to escape Laos, crossing the border into Thailand. They’d seen cases where the daughters were forced into prostitution to pay off debts. At this point, any one of the Asian gangs could prey on them.

“Hey, boss.”

“Well, hey, Heather. What’s all that?” He gestured toward the two large shopping bags she held.

“I got a little carried away on what we needed for tonight. I thought your friend could pick and choose a few things. You know, get into the whole Russian thing. I think she can pull it off.”

“She’ll appreciate that. You’re going to be in the van with the guys, aren’t you?”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “No way would I miss you speaking Russian.” Grinning, she quickly deposited the bags next to his desk. More than halfway out, she yelled back, “By the way, I really liked your friend. She makes you smile.”

He decided to call Cassie and see what she was up to. Surprised, she answered on the second ring. “Are you home at the condo? I need you to do me a favor.”

“I just walked in the door. I’m putting dinner away. Oh, Jack, the most horrible thing happened this morning after you left for work. It was just awful.”

His body tensed. Damn it, he knew something was up when she was so evasive.

Before he could ask, she continued. “I went to put my jeans on, the ones you washed, and I couldn’t zip them up. I’ve put on weight. We can’t keep eating the way we have. Please, please tell me you dried those on high.”

He started laughing and couldn’t stop. He laughed so loud, Heather and another agent looked in.

“Jack, this isn’t funny. If I get fat, I won’t have any jeans to wear.”

For some reason, he thought that was funnier than getting fat.

“If I don’t have jeans to wear, I’m going to have to run around pantless. How would you like that?”

“Really? I’d love it. Your jeans are so tight, a guy would have to slice them off you.”

“Did I just hear you correctly?”

“Yes.” He wanted the last word. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Grinning, Jack headed to the conference room to resume the afternoon briefing. The other agents filed in after him.

“Can you share with us what was so funny?” asked Heather. In situations like this, Heather was the unofficial spokesperson.

Jack grinned and rubbed his jaw. “Sure. Cassie’s worried she’s getting fat. She couldn’t zip up her jeans this morning.”

“That’s not funny, that’s serious,” said Heather.

The guys hid their smiles.

Cassie laughed and did a happy dance around the condo. “Gotcha, gotcha,” she sang. Her goal that morning had been to make Jack laugh, and she did. From what she could tell, his life was all work and no play. She barely kept a straight tone over the ludicrous concerns of her jeans. True, they didn’t zip up easily, but after last night, her past vain lifestyle was silly, and she’d never complain about stupid stuff again, or so she hoped.

Her day had been spent at the main branch of the Seattle Public Library on the computer. She had wanted to check her offshore account balance, but not from Jack’s condo. After reading everything about the mob, she had been concerned they’d track her from it. Cassie verified the rules and regulations about Cayman banking and felt confident they couldn’t trace her easily. Nothing was foolproof, but some things took longer.

Next, she searched for information about Sergei and found the same blurb and picture in the Los Angeles Times with his arm around Sashay. Something bothered her about the whole Sashay thing, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Besides being totally artless, in her opinion, there was something more attached to it all. But what? Cassie did a few more Internet searches, but she didn’t even know the woman’s last name.

Just before she left the library, Cassie checked her e-mail one last time to see if a report had come back from the lab. They had said within twenty-four hours, and sure enough, they’d sent the results. Everything had come back negative. She said a quick thank you prayer and got ready to log-off when a new message appeared from a Lady O. Her heart skipped a beat before she opened the e-mail. As silly as it was, she and Alexa had had code names from college. Alexa was Lady Olivia and she was Lady Cecily. Her message was brief: call me. Cassie refused to read into those two little words. She decided she would when she got back to the condo.

Instead of spending money on a manicure, she’d picked up a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store and salad. Jack had been generous in feeding her, and it was time to reciprocate. Cassie had just put the groceries on the counter when he’d called.

She hung up from talking to Jack and wondered what the favor was. She checked the time and decided if she were going to call Alexa, she needed to do it now before she picked up her girls from school.

When she answered, Cassie said in a British accent, “This is Lady Cecily.”

After a long pause, Alexa replied, mimicking her. “Oh, Lady Cecily, I am so glad you called. Have you seen that old movie,
The Russians are Coming, The Russians are Coming
? I was hoping to see it with you this morning, but I have no money. My dear husband accused me of taking his. All of his. Very angry.”

“Oh…oh, dear.” A sick feeling settled in Cassie’s stomach.

“He was quite mean about the whole thing, too.”

“I see.”

“Yes, I thought so. Thank you for ringing. Perhaps we can do lunch? Soon?”

“I’m still traveling about, but soon. I’ll call. Bye now.” Cassie shut off her phone. Were people listening in? Obviously, Alexa thought it possible.

No longer feeling like a happy dance, Cassie closed her eyes and thought about Alexa’s message. For Sergei to approach Alexa, it meant he was getting desperate. That money belonged to somebody else, and they were putting the heat on him. Part of her wanted to transfer all the money back in and then out again, dangling every red banking flag out there, turn up the heat and burn his balls, but then he’d know she’d talked to Alexa, putting her at risk.

She might not be able to stick it to Sergei, but she sure could do her part tonight in bringing down the Russian front. “Don’t mess with Katerina, darling.”

With time on her hands waiting for her nails to dry, Cassie carefully opened the laptop. Jack had said all the I.C.E. cases were on their website. Using the eraser end of a pencil, she tapped away on the keyboard and brought up the contraband section. Every imaginable way possible was used to try and smuggle in illegal everything, even stolen art from World War II. Which brought her back to Sashay’s art and Sergei. One time, she’d made the mistake of telling Sergei she thought he was wasting his money on her art. He sneered and then laughed, like there was some big secret. On top of that, she was not allowed to touch the statues or dust them. Then he banned her from his office, which was fine with her. On the surface, her art appeared innocent, but now she wasn’t so sure.

With her nails completely dry, it was time for the next stage of her disguise. She had just over an hour to transform into Katerina. What will Katerina do when he returns home? After that kiss this morning, only Katerina knew.

Other books

THE PRIME MINISTER by DAVID SKILTON
Color Blind (Team Red) by Hammond, T.
A Treatise on Shelling Beans by Wieslaw Mysliwski
Zero Point by Tim Fairchild
Torn by Nelson, S.
Wagon Trail by Bonnie Bryant