Secrets of the Dead

by Kylie Brant

  “I saw a man earlier today that I recognized.” Eve wasn’t certain how much time they’d have so she started right in. “A bad man. The name I know him by is Lafka Malsovic. He has…” She was about to describe his tattoos, but the other woman’s reaction told her it was unnecessary.

  One hand to her throat, Brina replied in Serbian, “He has many names but the only one that matters is monster .” The shudder that racked her body punctuated the words. “He is dangerous. A liar and a brutal man. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that he is the one who killed my friend. He threatens us often. Hurts us. I put nothing past him.”

  That matched with what Eve had heard about the man from Raiker, but she was more concerned about the experiences that were responsible for the fear and loathing on the woman’s face. “Why is he here? Do you know?”

  Brina studied her, as if for the first time considering the ramifications of talking to her. “You are…police?”

  Eve shook her head. “But I can help you,” she assured the woman. “If you tell me what is happening here, I can get help.”

  Mouth twisting, the woman said fatalistically, “There is no help. Police will send me back to my home country and my family would still owe Malsovic a debt for bringing me to America. They cannot pay and there are no jobs for me there, or marriage. No man wants to marry a woman who has been forced to…” Her features hardened. “But I do not care for me. Dajana. Someone must pay for what was done to her. And if that someone is Malsovic, all the better.”

  Eve glanced over her shoulder to be sure they were still alone and then angled her body for a better view of the stairway. “How did you get to America?”

  Brina looked away. “I answered an ad,” she muttered in such a low voice Eve had to strain to hear her. “That is how I met him. I could pay four thousand dollars, or he would have a job for me when I got here. Working in a hotel for three hundred American dollars a week.” It was evident from her voice that the amount seemed like a fortune to her. “I would give him half my wages for the first year to repay him for his troubles. I would have paid even more for the chance he was promising. He showed me pictures of other girls he had helped. I knew it was a risk, but the risk I thought was in getting caught. Being sent back.” An expressionless mask came over the woman’s face. “But the reality was far worse than I feared. I have been here more than two years. We are prisoners, all of us. We do not leave the hotel, and we are not allowed to keep any money.”

  Eve swallowed hard. The situation was as bad as she feared, but somehow hearing those fears put into words made it harsher. “What about Xie Shuang? You said earlier she keeps all your tips.”

  A flash of real fear flickered over Brina’s face and she sent an uneasy glance at the stairwell. “Malsovic works for her. She pays him to bring her workers and we work here for nothing. There were thirty of us. One less now.” The words were tinged with grief.

  Eve studied Brina for a moment. With the man’s reputation for brutality and the housecleaner’s reaction to his mention, there was more here than had yet been revealed. An ugly suspicion bloomed. “What else does Malsovic do here?”

  Brina ducked her head. “He…he finds men. Almost every night there are several for each of us.” The woman refused to meet her gaze. “That money he shares with Shuang, but he keeps most of it, I think.”

  “Oh my God, you’re living a nightmare.” Sympathy twisted in Eve’s chest. The horror of the women’s plight was almost too much to contemplate. But she was too familiar with stories much like the one Brina was telling to doubt the woman’s truthfulness.

  The housekeeper bent and rolled down one of the white cotton socks she wore to reveal a thick black bracelet around her ankle. “If we get even a few feet outside of the hotel an alarm goes off. They can track us through this bracelet. We are brought back. Beaten. Nearly killed.” She bit her lip. “No one has tried to leave more than once.”

  “Where do you stay?” Eve asked quietly. There was a helpless sort of desolation welling up inside her just thinking of what Brina and the others were going through. It couldn’t come close to the impotence and violation the women experienced every day and the knowledge made her physically ill.

  “There are two rooms on the fifteenth floor that have been filled with bunk beds. We sleep there, and one of the men stands guard all night.” Brina slid an uneasy glance at the stairwell again before returning her gaze to Eve. “I must get to work or I will be beaten. You say you want to help.” She dug into the pocket of her apron and came up with a hotel key card. Handed it to Eve. “It is a master. It will open all the rooms.” Her eyes were dark and intense. “You can see that I tell the truth. Our rooms are 1501 and 1502. Shuang is in 701 and Malsovic is in 823.”

  Eve hesitated but didn’t reach for the key. “What will happen to you when they find you’ve lost your master key?”

  “That is Dajana’s.” Brina’s lips quivered for a moment before she tightened them. “She will not be using it anymore.”

  Eve took the key card and dropped it into her purse. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, but she prayed it didn’t end up costing the woman far more than she expected. She reached out and grabbed Brina’s hand. “I am going to get help for you, but it might take a few days.” She wasn’t sure how they would coordinate their mission here with a rescue op for the women trapped in virtual slavery, but she was damn sure going to make sure it happened. And if Adam Raiker couldn’t facilitate it, she had contacts who could. “Can you hang on for a little while longer?”

  The woman’s laugh was bitter. “What are days compared to years? I want to believe, but I will not let myself hope. Hope has died inside me. Now you must go before you are caught here, and then it will be too late for both of us.”

  As difficult as it was to allow the Serbian woman to turn away and pick up the load of sheets she’d dropped earlier, Eve knew she’d already stayed longer than she should.

  But it was hard to walk toward that staircase and make her ascent, knowing Brina wasn’t free to do the same.

  At the top Eve laid her ear against the door, one hand on the knob, but of course could hear nothing from the outside. Dragging in a breath, she eased open the door until she could put an eye to the crack she’d created. Her view was limited but no one appeared to be around. She hurried out the door and down the hallway. As she turned the corner she heard voices so she dug in her purse and pulled out her cell, holding it to her ear as she slowed to a stroll.

  “I know, can you believe it? I took a wrong turn and ended up in a housekeeping closet,” she exclaimed as she walked behind two men who were speaking in low tones. “I just can’t get my bearings in a hotel.” With a jolt she recognized one of them as the bearded man who’d forced her and Declan into the car at gunpoint a day earlier. “I went to get snacks and ended up lost.” She pretended to prattle on as she passed the two. “I’m hopeless, I know. Okay. See you soon.”

  Eve was hyperaware of the fact that the men’s conversation had stopped as she walked by. She halted before the ground floor elevators and stabbed blindly at the up button. She felt like a penetrating laser was stabbing in her back and she knew precisely the cause. The second man—the one talking to her abductor—was Lafka Malsovic.

  A hot ball of anger settled in the pit of her stomach. She’d heard about his past from Raiker. Knew what he was suspected of. But speaking with Brina had brought the man’s violence to vivid Technicolor. And with every fiber of her being she resolved that the man would pay for even more than his attempted kidnap of Royce Raiker.

  He’d pay for ruining the lives of every woman he’d brought here.

  _______

  Zupan was speaking again, but Malsovic wasn’t listening. He stared after the woman who’d walked into the elevators. “That female,” he interrupted the other man in broken Slovenian. “Have you seen her before?”

  The oth
er man turned around. “The blonde who went by? Of course. That is the bitch who was with Gallagher. The one with the knife who caused Shuang to nearly kill me.”

  “You failed your task,” Malsovic said flatly, finally bringing his focus back to Zupan. “You let a mere woman outwit you.” Seeing the other man’s thunderous expression, he recalled the reason he’d had for speaking with him to begin with. He might need the man later, and it paid to have allies. “But Shuang was too hard on you. I told her so later.” He’d done nothing of the kind, but Zupan didn’t know that. “You did not deserve such a beating. Especially at the hands of a woman.”

  Agreement was written on the other man’s face, but he wouldn’t dare speak of it aloud. Malsovic was in business with Shuang. Everyone knew that. And no one could be sure how deep his loyalties ran. Malsovic was careful to keep it so.

  He took a wad of crumpled bills from his pocket and shoved it at Zupan. “Take this for your suffering. It is too little, but all I have right now.”

  His largesse clearly took the man by surprise, but he reached for the bills and shoved them in his pocket. “Thank you, Lafka.”

  When Malsovic clapped him on the shoulder, Zupan winced. “Your time will come soon. Until then, stay away from Shuang if you can.” It was the first he’d seen the man up and around since his beating two days ago. Zupan was weak and not always smart, but he had computer skills that had come in handy once already. It never paid to forget that loyalty could be bought.

  “Take care, my friend.” Finished with the man he headed toward the lower floor to the laundry room to check on the disobedient Brina. Shuang had told him about the woman’s slowness today, which he cared nothing about. But the fact that she’d been asking about Dajana was of far greater concern. It was his task to make sure the woman knew to keep her mouth closed about Dajana’s fate, or risk sharing it.

  But Brina was not on his mind as he made his way down the hallway. It was on the woman with the bright hair. The one he would be charged with disposing of when Shuang was done with Gallagher.

  He had no problem killing women, but he did have a problem with waste. Reaching the entrance to the laundry room, he opened the door, immediately heard the hum of machines coming from below. And killing the small blonde would be wasteful. He began to descend the stairs. She looked younger than their research had reported, and that could be exploited. Women were a commodity to be sold and traded, and in many countries a blue-eyed blonde would fetch a handsome price. Especially one who appeared so young and fresh.

  He wasn’t sure yet what that meant for him, but knew he’d have to give it thought. Just as he’d been giving thought on exactly how he could double-cross Xie Shuang.

  _______

  The hours passed with excruciating slowness. The men had fallen ravenously on the snacks Eve had brought back and handed out with accompanying empty-headed chatter about how long it had taken her to find the floors with vending machines, and how she’d visited them all to get the best selection. Then she settled into a chair, earphones in place. But she wasn’t thinking about the music.

  Shuang was on the seventh floor. Malsovic on the eighth. It didn’t require much thought to be certain that the receiver Raiker had given them should go in the woman’s offices. According to Brina, Malsovic worked for Xie. Any meetings between the two of them would be most likely to take place in her territory.

  And Eve was keenly interested in just what the two might have to say to each other. She debated the point mentally, her gaze going to Declan. His sleeves were rolled up showing strong forearms as he explained the security at Raiker’s checkpoints. She knew what his reaction would be if she planted the device without discussing the location first with him. But she also didn’t want to risk a conversation about it here, even in a language the other men surely weren’t familiar with.

  They both had jobs to do, she thought mutinously. And Declan Gallagher was going to have to get used to the fact that they had an equal say in how those jobs would be done.

  She made herself wait for an hour before rising and wandering over to him. “I’m going to find a bathroom.”

  He looked at her, and then at the adjoining door. “There’s one right over there.”

  It was incredibly difficult to summon a vacant smile. “Oh, darling, you realize I’m not going potty with a room full of men next door. Don’t you know me better than that by now?”

  His enigmatic gray gaze seemed to bore straight into her mind and pluck out her intention. “I do, indeed.” She heard the warning layering the tone. “Be careful. I don’t want you getting lost again.”

  “I can’t make any promises. Cóig deug. Seachd. ” The words trailed behind her on a laugh, but once she had the door closed behind her the smile faded from her lips. Their time was running out for the day. The thought propelled her to the stairway exit and up the flights of stairs to the fifteenth floor. There were enough people in the hallway to keep her ducked inside the stairway doorway for several minutes, which gave her some much-needed time to catch her breath. She’d told Declan the floors she’d be visiting, if not the reason. Hopefully he’d be able to work his magic with the cameras.

  It was check-in time, which explained the luggage carts and people looking for their rooms. Minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness before Eve decided that she didn’t have the luxury of time. Drawing in a deep breath she pushed the door open and—with a glance at the signs on the wall—headed for 1501, the pass card in her hand.

  No one seemed to pay her any mind as she slid her card into the door and pushed it open to step inside. A quick glance showed it was empty and for a moment Eve slumped against the door, all the strength streaming out of her.

  Then she took a cursory walk through the room and into the next one, through an open adjoining door. Each was the size of a regular hotel room but was devoid of all furniture except for rows of metal bunks beds. Counting them Eve noted there were eight bunk beds per room, with only inches separating each set from the next. That meant thirty-two beds. Beneath each bottom bed were two pillowcases. Checking those closest to her, she found in each an extra uniform and a few personal items.

  The paltry stash was as chilling as the room itself. The cold utilitarian bunks, all as precisely made as those in military barracks. There was a metal sheet of bars bolted to each window frame. The rooms were a prison.

  It was exactly what Brina had described, but somehow worse. Eve wondered if it were only her imagination that the space resonated with despair.

  The thought had her setting her jaw. Taking her phone out she took pictures of both rooms. Returning her cell to her purse she went to the door and opened it a crack, looking out carefully before strolling down the hall to the stairway. She descended to the seventh floor, her stomach a tight tangle of nerves and entered the hallway. An elderly couple was closing the door of a room behind them halfway down the hall. The woman carried a large oversized tapestry purse that had perhaps been in fashion when Truman was president, and the man’s only remaining hair was a walrus style mustache. Still there was something endearing about the way he patted the woman’s free hand where it was tucked into the crook of his elbow as they tottered toward the elevator.

  Eve waited until the open elevator swallowed them before walking swiftly to the room in the now deserted hall and letting herself inside.

  The phone was sitting on the desk and she beelined for it. Lifted the receiver and studied the message on how to make a room-to-room call. And then dialed 701.

  The thudding in her chest seemed to echo in the empty room. The call jangled once. Twice. And then…

  “Yes.”

  “In the kitchen.” Eve used a breathless whisper, English with a Korean accent. “They said not to bother you, but you should come. Hurry!” Then she dropped the phone back in the cradle. Blew out a shuddering breath and strode to the door to press an eye ag
ainst the peephole.

  There was no telling if her farce would work, but Eve had a second plan ready in case it didn’t. She waited, scarcely daring to breathe as the moments ticked by. After what seemed an interminable time, the door to the room four down from this one opened. An irritated Xie Shuang marched out, her pace swift. Her back ramrod straight. Eschewing the elevators, she moved instead in the direction of the stairway exit. By the time Eve pulled the door open to make certain, the woman was out of sight.

  She lost no time. Speeding out of the room she had her key out and was inside 701 in seconds, her heart heaving as though she’d sprinted a marathon. A quick glance showed the space was used primarily as an office. A rollaway bed was shoved into the corner under the window. Two armchairs faced the desk. Skirting both, Eve dropped to her knees to examine the face of the desk.

  It was a cheaply made piece. Particle board stained and polished to look like oak. The middle was covered with a panel in front that stopped four inches shy of the floor. Crawling to look at it from the front, Eve found the two pedestals held three drawers each, with a wide center drawer. At the bottom of the pedestals the edges bore decorative cutouts a couple inches from the floor that Eve was able to slip her fingers into.

  A sense of desperation filled her, although logically she knew it had only been a couple minutes since she’d entered the room. Her imagination was busy painting all sorts of scenarios that would have Shuang returning unexpectedly. Meeting someone on the stairs and abruptly changing priorities. Using her cell to call the kitchen and discovering there was no emergency. Forgetting something in her room…

  Elbowing the doubts aside, she set her purse on the floor and dug in the zipped pocket for the plastic box holding the receiver. Her hands fumbled a bit when she took it out. Nerves were ridiculous. It wasn’t as if she’d never bugged a room before. Turning the small device over in her hands to examine it, she discovered a round disk on one side. Scraping at it with her thumbnail, she peeled off the metal colored paper to expose an adhesive area. Wedging her hand under the right pedestal, she blindly affixed the transmitter to one interior side where it’d be undetected.