Too Far Gone (12 page)

“This is not a date,” Lauren protested as she considered the dress. “I don’t know. With a short black wig and contacts... brown or maybe green.”

Zoe circled her finger in the air. “Only one way to know for sure. Off with your clothes.”

Lauren stripped to her bra and panties and stepped into the dress. Zoe pulled the zipper up her spine and gave a low whistle. “Your backside looks great. Turn around.”

“Yes, drill sergeant,” Lauren teased.

Her friend only hummed a little as Lauren did the model’s turn. “This has potential. With a black wig and the smoky eye no one will realize you’re Lauren Marie Woods or Dr. Loveless.”

“That’s the goal.” Lauren stepped to the mirror and angled her body left and right. The dress clung to her curves, showing a generous amount of cleavage and her dedication to fitness. “This should keep the focus where it belongs.”

“No one will be looking at your face, that’s for sure.”

Zoe helped her wriggle out of the dress and they gathered the right accessories. “I need one more dress. A step down from this one.”

“No problem.” They went through the selection and found a red dress that gave off a sexy power vibe without overdoing it. It would be perfect for her upcoming attempt to interview Vanya.

“Stay for dinner,” Zoe offered.

“We really can’t.” If she missed her chance to talk to Vanya they’d have a real fight getting those women out of the mansion.

“A drink then. The stress is obvious, Lauren. Take a minute to catch your breath.”

“The longer we stay the more risk to you.” Now she sounded like Mike.

“You didn’t kill him. Surely there’s a cop who will listen to your side.”

“The less you know the better. Mike and I can handle this.” She hoped. “You have no idea what Desmond was into.” Lauren knew it would be years—if ever—before she could get the images of those captured women out of her mind. “Trust me, Zoe. I’ll tell you the whole story as soon as I can.”

Zoe studied her a bit too closely. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Lauren knew her friend trusted her unconditionally, though she might express more than a few doubts if she knew about the gang of human traffickers.

“You promise me you’ll remember not all men are like Desmond.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “I know that.”

“I wonder.” Zoe tapped her foot. “Men like to give orders and they love to be right, but good men aren’t selfish or mean. A good man has your best interests in mind.”

“Well, if I’m not in prison or dead, I’ll keep that in mind when I start dating again.” She couldn’t picture that yet. Dating felt too normal and yet too risky. She wasn’t sure how long it would take before she trusted her judgment of potential companions again.

“I say start with the man you’ve got in your pocket.”

“Zoe, stop. Mike’s not with me because he’s interested. He’s doing a job.”

“Oh, he’s interested,” Zoe insisted. “If nothing else, consider him practice.”

“Fine!” Agreeing with Zoe was the only way to put an end to the subject and get back to the task ahead of them. How had she not noticed how bossy her best friend was?

With a final hug, the borrowed clothing neatly packed and zipped into garment bags, she and Mike slipped away from the house and headed back toward LA.

“She worries about you,” Mike observed.

“Yeah. She’s a good friend.” Lauren was relieved when he didn’t press her for more details or another assurance that Zoe would keep the visit to herself.

“I grew up in California.” His quiet statement surprised her. “Celebrities rarely impress me.”

“Zoe isn’t the norm,” Lauren admitted.

“Neither are you,” he said.

She wasn’t sure how to reply.

“That’s a compliment,” he explained. “Say thank you.”

“Thank you.” She resisted the urge to ask him what prompted the compliment. Not with Zoe’s
have a fling
speech disrupting her thoughts anyway. A fling with Mike would probably be life altering, but she couldn’t grant herself that type of diversion. Not now.

“We should be able to catch Vanya at the club,” she blurted. “I’ve been thinking about how to convince her to talk to us and then testify against Polzin.”

“Big goals,” he said. “You’re assuming she knows anything helpful.”

“She does.” The more Lauren thought about it, the more she was certain this wasn’t a case of wishful thinking, but solid, helpful fact. They just had to find the irrefutable link between Desmond and Polzin. “She’s the ace up our sleeve.”

Beside her Mike grunted, seemingly unconvinced, but he waited until they were back in the hotel suite to try and talk her out of this again. “Sending you in alone could backfire,” he called from the other side of the bathroom door as she wriggled into the red dress she’d chosen to approach Vanya at the club.

“Of course you’d want to rehash this when I’m distracted.” She glared at the door, hoping he could hear the frustration in her voice.

“Look,” he said. “I get the philosophy behind your approach. You want to appeal to her woman to woman, like the last time.”

Ignoring him, Lauren tugged the short black wig into place and meticulously confirming no evidence of her natural blond hair remained. She started her makeup with the contacts that transformed her eyes from the distinct silver blue to a deep green. As she applied foundation and blush, Mike rattled on, hoping to change her mind. She wouldn’t. Those women were her problem now. She didn’t care if her determination was fueled by associative guilt.

Giving particular care to match her eyebrows to the wig color, she had everything on but the lip color and shoes when she stepped out of the bathroom.

Mike’s jaw dropped. “You—”

She gave him her back. “Can you finish the zipper and hook please?”

His warm touch was fleeting and the only sound was the hushed rasp as the zipper came together.

“There you go.”

She felt him step back, felt the absence of his body heat. Moving around him, she avoided eye contact as she slipped into the matching red heels Zoe recommended for this dress.

“You look...”

Mentally, Lauren filled in the blank with about a dozen likely adjectives before Mike finished the sentence.

“...exotic.”

Lauren felt something like a blush warming her skin. No one had ever referred to her that way. Beautiful, sure. Lovely, sometimes. Occasionally she earned a striking. Though her favorite was girl-next-door pretty when she was caught running errands without her makeup.

Then Mike scowled. “If Polzin sees you he could be a problem.”

“He won’t even be there,” she said, dismissing his concern. “He’s at the mansion overseeing the preparations for the party tonight, remember?”

Mike’s dark eyebrows were still furrowed over his midnight-blue eyes. She walked over and caught his hand in hers, to hell with the temptation that touching him caused. “I’ll be all right. No one will recognize me and I truly believe Vanya wants to help us.”

One of those dark eyebrows arched. “I agree you don’t look anything like Lauren Marie Woods.”

She smiled. “Good.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth and she remembered her lips were bare. She’d have to fix that before they left.

“Lauren.”

“Yes?”

He tipped up her chin and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. Nothing tentative or seeking this time. Her heart skipped and her pulse leaped straight to all-out need. Something inside her sighed as his tongue plunged and retreated with a bold, sensual promise. Fingers digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders, she let her head fall back, reveled in the soft scrape of his short whiskers against her skin. He rained kisses down the column of her throat and followed the slope of her collarbone with tantalizing nips.

“You taste like Lauren,” he breathed against her ear.

She would’ve laughed, but he pulled her close and she felt his hard erection against her belly. The words in her head now had little to do with Zoe’s advice. She wanted Mike. Now. Here. She pushed at his shirt, pulling the hem from his waistband and sliding her palms across rippling abs and up over hard planes of his sculpted back.

He cupped her backside and boosted her up and she wrapped her legs around his lean waist, rocking her hips against him. It was a wonder their clothing didn’t burn away.

“Mike,” she whispered, with more need than she’d ever felt for another man. His hands roamed along her thighs, trailed up and teased her breasts through the fabric, and then back down to trace the narrow outline of the cheeky panties she wore. Each place he touched turned molten, desperate for more.

For him
.

The fires he lit burned away all rational thought until all she felt was the sweet-hot need. She reached down and stroked him through his jeans. The sigh that rattled through him gave her a delicious sense of power. She stroked again. And once more. He felt enormous. Virile. Alive. She wanted to feel all of him deep, deep inside her.

She stilled. Was this his attempt at distracting
her
? With monumental effort, she flatted her hands against his chest and drew away from that hungry mouth of his. “We can’t do this now.”
Later. Yes. Oh, definitely later
.

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “My fault.” He set her on her feet, his hands lingering on her hips while she found her balance. “I crossed the line.”

“You weren’t alone.” She tried to smile, but her lips felt puffy and full—in the best possible way. She leaned around him to check the time. “We’d better get going if we hope to catch Vanya. If she’s on tonight’s guest list we don’t have a lot of time.”

Mike didn’t offer a dissenting opinion as he straightened his clothes and pulled on a leather jacket.

Using the mirror by the door, she smoothed her clothing and finished her disguise with a sassy red lip stain. The effect made her eyes stand out. Mesmerizing green eyes that bore no resemblance to the woman the cops and half of LA and Hollywood were searching for.

Mike said she tasted the same and he would know, but she didn’t feel like the same woman who’d allowed Desmond to dictate her life for years. No matter what happened with Vanya or Polzin, she’d never be that woman again. Her transformation had started just hours before Desmond’s murder, but after even this short acquaintance with Mike she was absorbing his influence as well. Tiny steps taking her closer to the woman she wanted to be.

A woman who knew her heart, spoke her mind, and made the right moves off camera—where it mattered most.

Mike considered it a small miracle when they returned to the seedy club with their clothing still intact. The sizzling chemistry was indisputable and as much as he wanted to capitalize on it this wasn’t the time.

She’d spent years in what he’d determined had been a relationship based on little more than mutual neglect. He gave her credit for holding up under the pressure, but this wasn’t the time for distractions. For either of them. He’d leaped right past attracted and protective when he looked at her in that red dress. He was feeling outright possessive. More so with every passing hour. The dress treated the public to an excellent view, but didn’t reveal enough for him. Of course, judging by his persistent hard-on for her, anything shy of nude wouldn’t be enough for him.

“I’ll be fine,” she’d said when he dropped her off at the curb like some lackey.

He’d wanted to say something profound but words had evaded him. Instead, he’d played the part of driver, which went along with tonight’s role. No matter how strong and determined she appeared to be, Mike was increasingly uncomfortable with her going in there alone. Even with Claudia monitoring the situation, if Lauren were caught, if her talk with Vanya made Kozlov or one of the others suspicious, Mike would have his hands full rescuing her. He wasn’t worried about Kozlov killing her in public. The bastard wasn’t a fool. Still, the situation was way too dicey for Mike’s comfort. He knew it was his issue and he owned it. Her disguise was effective, but to him, no matter the wig or contacts or heavy layers of makeup, she was always Lauren.

It was the strangest thing. Inexplicable. He couldn’t make the realization fit into the context of the last time a group of women needed to be rescued. Standing guard alone gave him too much time to analyze it. He called Claudia. “Can you trace the ownership of the Royal?”

“It’s a dive Polzin uses to launder money,” she replied.

Mike struggled for the detached calm he normally relied on during a case. “I want to know if or how Trinity was connected. Gut instinct.” Trinity was dead, but something was wrong if the police weren’t finding ties to the Krushka syndicate right here in East Hollywood.

“Public records say it belongs to Tri-Star Enterprises.”

“Bingo.” Mike knew it. Tri-Star was one of Trinity’s companies.

“Looks like he owns a couple of other clubs in the area.”

Claudia went on but Mike’s gut was twisting a little more with each passing second. Having Lauren wear any sort of wire had been too big a risk. The only eyes they had on her were Claudia’s. She’d hacked into the club’s security system and was watching via the establishment’s own cameras. He shook his head. He never should’ve let Lauren out of sight. Any one of Kozlov’s men could be in there watching for her. Vanya could have ratted her out by now. They’d left Polzin at the mansion, but that didn’t mean he’d stayed there. What had Mike done as a protector? He’d let Lauren walk into the lion’s den alone.

“This was a mistake. I’m going in,” he said.

“Stay put,” Claudia ordered. “Everyone inside looks happy enough.”

“Let me see. Send it through.”

“You don’t trust me?”

The question was a trap and he knew it. “It’s my job to keep her safe.”

“Then why’d you let her go in?”

Because she’d insisted. He could hardly admit that to Claudia, though she’d likely reached that conclusion on her own. Nothing resembling a valid excuse came to mind, so he blurted out Lauren’s logic. “She wanted a woman-to-woman approach. She thinks Trinity might’ve been trying to save Vanya.”

“She’s smart. If you go in, you’ll wreck everything. A man sniffing around his mistress would bring Polzin’s army down on you.”

“Maybe that’s the better play,” Mike said, thinking aloud.

“Hardly. You’re good, but one against all of them? No way. Besides, if I didn’t know what Lauren was wearing, I couldn’t even spot her.”

“That’s good to hear.” He hoped Claudia wasn’t just yanking his chain about the effectiveness of Lauren’s disguise. Either way, it was done now. If Lauren was working, he needed to do the same. “Have you found a money trail? Trinity was too greedy to be part of this or take these risks for free.”

It bothered Mike that so many of the missing women were last seen with Trinity or in association with his finishing school, and yet the police hadn’t seemed to notice. Those women had families who deserved answers. Polzin had the means and will to apply unbearable pressure whenever and wherever it was required. Did he own the right contacts in the police department other than Treadwell? Higher up the chain of command maybe? Mike felt confident that question had already been answered when Kozlov showed up at that faked meeting with an attorney.

The thought made him twitchy. Picking up his cell, he sent Lauren a text, requesting verification of her progress. “Did you spot her yet?” he asked Claudia.

“Yeah, I have her now but I had to look really close at every female face in the joint. She’s doing great. That red dress is killer,” Claudia said, a hint of laughter in her voice. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you have a little crush on our red-carpet client.”

“Come on, now,” he countered, trying to match her light tone. “You’re the only girl for me no matter that you’re inaccessible.”

“Inaccessible?” She snorted. “That sounds about right for you, Mr. Distant.”

He laughed, just starting to relax when a big black car pulled up. Kozlov and his muscle Maksimov got out and Mike’s blood ran cold. He gave the information to Claudia, but he braced for action. “Where is Lauren?”

“She’s chatting with Vanya. Ah... they just went through a door behind the bar.”

Mike shifted in the seat. “Do you have a visual on her?”

“Wait... wait... I do now. They’re in a dressing room, still talking. I’m a master at multi-tasking, but searching financials, keeping an eye on the cameras, and distracting you appears to max me out.”

Mike breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that your super powers have limits.” Not that he had anyone to tell. The Guardian Agency was more compartmentalized than the Pentagon. Following the press conference when the sheriff accepted all the praise for capturing the Angeles Forest killer, there’d been an attorney with an offer and a contract waiting on his doorstep. Once Mike had signed his name, he’d received a phone programmed with Claudia’s number. Since that first day the system worked perfectly for him. The agency paid him on time, he got to surf most mornings when he wasn’t on a case, and he could take pride in his work again.

“I need to follow a few leads,” Claudia said. “Can I trust you to stay put?”

“As long as you’ve got eyes on Lauren.”

“She’s safe. Trust me. Charging in will change that,” Claudia warned.

Mike watched the street. This part of town would never meet the criteria for
safe
. But was anywhere safe enough for Lauren? A Russian syndicate boss had established himself in a mansion in Beverly Hills and the man’s mistress was meeting with the only woman who could unravel the operation.

“I’ll behave,” he said reluctantly even as he checked off
very damned bad
on his mental checklist. Damn it.

“Too bad I’m not there to see that in person.”

“I won’t move until I get the signal,” he promised. Though it wouldn’t be easy.

“Good.” She disconnected, leaving Mike alone with his thoughts again.

The silence that pressed in on him wasn’t remotely comfortable.

Vanya’s dressing room was small, but well appointed with an antique vanity, a plush sofa, and matching slipper chair. Lauren sank into the chair. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”

The rest of her plea for help simply dissolved. She hadn’t forgotten her lines in years, but now, when it mattered most, she felt tongue-tied. When Vanya had asked her name, Lauren had given her the name she and Mike had decided on, Renae Ford. So far, so good.

When Vanya said nothing, Lauren ventured, “After the way I behaved the last time we met, I was afraid you wouldn’t want to—”

Vanya wheeled around. “Don’t try to fool me. I know who you are. You are Desmond’s woman.”

“I—I...” Lauren couldn’t spit out a real response as her mind whirled frantically. Vanya only needed to say the word and Lauren would be caught. Mike had been right all along and Lauren’s insistence on this plan would get her killed. She hoped it wouldn’t get him killed as well. Her throat tightened.

“Do not worry.” Vanya perched on the padded stool in front of the vanity. “The others will be fooled.” She crossed her legs and stared at Lauren. “You found the school, yes? Speak freely, there is only a camera watching this room, no listening devices. Andreas likes me to be watched at all times.”

Lauren dared to breathe. “We found it. The women were moved this morning.”

“I know this.”

“What will happen to them?”

“Tonight?” Vanya met her gaze. “Nothing bad. They are...
samples
?” she said as if unsure of the proper word.

Mike’s gut call had been correct, tonight was about showing off the women as merchandise. Lauren’s stomach clenched, but she kept the reaction off her face.

“After tonight... I do not know,” Vanya added quietly.

Lauren leaned forward. “Get me into that party,” she murmured. “As Renae Ford, I can be a new buyer. I’ll get the women out.”

Vanya shook her head. “This is not a good idea. Andreas deals only with men. He will kill you. And me if I help you.”

Lauren sat back once more, changing her tactics. “You told the police I was in the office when Desmond was shot.”

“It was required of me.” Vanya got up and crossed to a small cabinet on the opposite side of the room. Pulling out a bottle of vodka, she splashed some into a glass. “Lie or die.” She held her hands like a balance scale raising one, then the other. “There are no good choices.”

Lauren considered what she’d thought she’d known about Desmond, comparing that to his final moments of life. Then she put it in the context of this horrible human trafficking organization. Maybe that night in his office really had been more than just another tryst with the wrong woman.

“You want drink?” Vanya held up her glass.

Lauren shook her head and ventured, “You want out.” She sensed it must be true. Polzin would tire of her eventually. It was likely old mistresses were killed without remorse to control information leaks and expenses. There was no other reason for Vanya to reveal the school. She had to know her days were limited. “Desmond gave you an exit strategy.”

“You are wrong. I was a test for Desmond.” Vanya raised her glass. “He failed.”

Lauren didn’t believe her. “That may have been how it started. Tell me when it changed.”

Vanya sipped at the vodka, her lipstick leaving a hot pink imprint on the crystal. “Your man was not so innocent in this.”

“I’m well aware of Desmond’s faults.” They didn’t have hard evidence of his association with Polzin, but she knew her
man
had been up to his eyeballs in this disaster. “He tried to help you, didn’t he?”

“Go away.” Vanya returned to the seat in front of the vanity. “Andreas is too strong, his organization is too perfect now.”

Not so perfect if Desmond stopped sending women to the school. “I don’t care,” Lauren blurted. “I will help those women.
Tonight
.” In trying to help Vanya, Desmond had done something decent, maybe, though it had killed him.

“What can
you
do?” Vanya set the glass on her dressing table. “We are only women. Our traps are different, yes, but we are caught just the same.”

The cynicism, the fatal outlook wasn’t surprising considering everything Vanya must have seen through the years. Lauren had to find a way to crack through that shell, to get to the woman inside. “You could make a difference,” Lauren said. “I’m not working alone. With your help we can save those women.”

Vanya dismissed the idea with a flick of her fingers. “Five women? What difference does that make?”

Quite a big difference for the women involved
, Lauren thought, but that wasn’t the right answer. “Five women and
you
,” Lauren said pointedly. “You could be free. Your assistance would shut down Polzin. He and Kozlov and all the others would go to prison.”

“He will kill me.”

“Not if he’s behind bars.”

Vanya’s laughter sounded brittle. “You do not know Andreas Polzin.”

The party would start in just a few hours. Desperate, Lauren tried again. “Introduce me. That’s all. Get my buyer and me into the party and we’ll do the rest.”

“You do not know him,” Vanya repeated sadly.

“Well, you don’t know my new man,” Lauren countered. “If you can’t help, just don’t get in the way tonight.”

“That is big talk for an actress.” Vanya turned back to her mirror, studying her face. She caught Lauren’s gaze in the reflection. “This is not a movie. If you try this you are in real danger with real guns and bullets.”

“We have a plan. Better than Desmond’s,” Lauren said. “What do you have to lose?”

Vanya tapped her black-tipped fingernail to the marble vanity top, and then she shrugged. “I suppose we all must die eventually.”

A sharp knock sounded as the dressing room door swung open, revealing Andreas Polzin. Lauren’s heart nearly stopped.

Polzin’s expression turned from hard to stormy when he realized his mistress was not alone. “What is this?”