They sat in the only two barber’s chairs, silently watching her.
She cleared her throat, wishing she’d thought this out a little better. “Hello. I’d like to talk to the owner, please.”
The man in the first chair got to his feet and approached her slowly. “You want haircut?”
She shook her head. Could this be the guy who considered himself Rocky’s friend? The heavy accent was Russian, and if she had to describe him, scary would have been one of the first adjectives that leapt to her mind. All the more reason to act unconcerned.
The man looked her over, ending with a glance at her hair. “You don’t need haircut, is short enough. Maybe just little trim.”
She folded her arms. “I don’t want a haircut. I want to talk to the owner.”
“Talk.” He took another long look up and down, probably intended to intimidate or at least creep her out. He succeeded at both. “About what?”
He probably screened visitors. The other man hadn’t moved, and she didn’t see a sign of anyone else. “About selling some jewelry.” She’d decided ahead of time that that had to be why Rocky knew him. “I’ll save the specifics for your boss.”
The last part had been intended to remind him of his place, but it didn’t seem to bother him. “Jewelry,” he repeated. This called for another up and down scan, maybe to determine if she was wearing any of the merchandise. He gestured at the chair he’d vacated. “Sit.”
So he could pin her in place while he intimidated her, or worse? “No, thanks. I’ll stand.”
His eyes narrowed for a second, like a nervous tic, as he sized her up. He didn’t look the least bit impressed. She glanced at the man who still occupied the other chair. He was a bit swarthier, and he stared back at her before giving her a small smile. He looked nicer when he wasn’t smiling. The first man moved closer, the smell of onions on his breath mingling with a heavy dose of aftershave. She held her ground.
“No jewelry here. Cut hair.” He leaned closer to examine the ends of her hair where they lay beneath her ears, and she forced herself not to flinch. “Could make shorter on neck.”
He was either testing her or teasing his prey before eating it. “I like it the way it is.” She nodded over his shoulder at the other living tribute to steroids. “Why don’t you practice on your friend, there? He could use a trim. But first, call your boss. I don’t have all day.”
A humorless smirk pulled at his mouth. “Boss busy. You wait.” He lifted his hand slowly toward her hair. “We find something to occupy us . . .”
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. His hand stopped, inches from her head. “You touch one hair and I promise you’ll be sorry.”
In silence, he looked her up and down. Giving a derisive snort, he curled his upper lip. “Puny thing. Not worried.”
She could see that was true. And she was letting him distract her from her goal. “Look, I came to make a deal. But if you don’t want my business, I’ll go elsewhere.”
He didn’t look impressed. “We cut hair. Who tell you we make deals?”
Progress—he’d asked her for information. Since it seemed he needed a name, she gave him one, hoping it wasn’t the wrong thing to say. “Rocky told me.”
She couldn’t tell if the name registered with him, but it must have meant something to the other man because he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed, watching her. They all waited in silence until he finally uttered a rapid monologue in Russian. Then listened. Then pocketed the phone.
“Da.”
She didn’t know Russian, but she understood that much, especially when accompanied by the head jerk toward the back of the store. Someone wanted her taken back there. She just couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing.
Muscle Man nodded toward the back of the store. “That way.” At least he didn’t touch her, which seemed sort of like respect.
She took a few steps, then turned to speak to him as she walked slowly toward the back. “Where are we going?” Not that it would make a difference, but it might quiet the wild fluttering in her chest.
“See Vasili.” He leered at her. “Talk.”
She was pretty sure that by talk he meant something other than talk.
If this was the dangerous element Rocky had wanted to keep her away from, she was ready to agree. They were heading for a door at the back of the shop, an interior room away from the big front window, away from witnesses. She fingered her car keys until one protruded from her closed fist. If she needed to defend herself, it would have to do.
The Neanderthal in the barber’s coat opened the door. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside a dim room. The door closed at her back.
An overhead light blazed to life and she shielded her face. A second later the blinding glare was eclipsed by the body of a man even larger than the two out front, but softer, his muscles comfortably hidden under a layer of fat. This had to be the guy she was looking for, even though he looked less scary than she’d expected; he was more like a dark version of Santa Claus.
The man settled his hands on his hips. “So. You know my friend Rocky.”
She squinted. “Yes. Are you Vasili?”
As if her voice had set it off, she heard wild scrambling behind Vasili. He turned, too, eyebrows lifting in surprise as someone shoved him aside.
“Janet!”
Her heart pounded. “Rocky?”
“What the hell are you doing here? Never mind, you’re leaving right now.”
Emotions swirled like a whirlpool inside her— surprise at seeing him, curiosity about his visit, and most of all, annoyance at being caught. In order to cover up the latter, she tried to distract him. “How did you get here? I didn’t see your car.”
“You weren’t supposed to. I parked in an alley three blocks down. You shouldn’t be here.” His clipped tone told her he was being more civil than he felt. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
He took her arm, but she shook him off. “No, thanks. I came on business, and I haven’t had a chance to conduct it yet.”
Vasili smiled with dawning understanding. “Ah! This short dark-hair girl?”
Rocky scowled. “Yeah, that’s her.”
The Russian drew himself up. “Introduce, please.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Janet, this is Vasili. Vasili, meet Janet Aims, the most contrary woman on the planet.”
Vasili beamed and lifted her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “My big pleasure.”
She gave him a hesitant smile. “My pleasure, too.” If Rocky thought Vasili was dangerous, she believed him, but at least the big Russian acted friendly. She was willing to go with that.
“What ‘contrary’ mean?” Vasili asked Rocky.
“Disobedient,” she answered for him, broadening her smile and winking. “I don’t like him telling me what to do.”
Vasili chuckled, causing a full-body jiggle in the flabby parts. “Women not so good at taking orders, this I know.” Casting a pitying look on Rocky, he said, “Sometimes you not so smart.”
“Ha-ha,” Rocky muttered. He directed a suspicious look at Janet. “How did you find this place?”
She shrugged. “You told me the name. I looked in the phone book.”
He was obviously unhappy that he’d made it that simple for her. “Well, you wasted a trip. What you’re looking for isn’t here.”
“How you know?” Vasili interrupted. “Don’t interfere with customer. She say she come to do business. Maybe your Janet looking for jewelry, eh?”
“I am,” she agreed.
“See?” He beamed. “I give good deal on many kinds jewelry. What you want, bracelet? Necklace?” His furry eyebrows wiggled upward. “Diamond ring, maybe?”
Rocky folded his arms. “She’s looking for the rest of the Pellinni Jewels.”
Vasili’s expression became cautious and he glanced at Rocky before telling her, “I might have them.”
“You don’t have them,” Rocky said.
“I don�
�t have them,” he corrected himself. Leaning toward Rocky, he said, “I thought I had them.”
“If anyone besides Janet asks, you have them.”
“Okay.” He held his hands out helplessly as he looked at her. “Honest, I don’t have them. But I have other jewelry. Better jewelry, not so much illegal.”
Ignoring Vasili’s equivocation on degrees of legality, she faced Rocky, hands on hips. “You two already planned something. I want in.”
He said nothing, and his stubborn expression didn’t change.
“Is no big deal,” Vasili told her. “We make believe I have—” Rocky elbowed him. “No plan,” Vasili shook his head. “Big nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes at Rocky, which didn’t affect his even stare one bit. Sensing Vasili was her only ally here, she told him, “You don’t have to do what he says, you know. He just thinks it’s his job to keep me safe.”
Vasili hesitated, gaze darting from one to the other. “Is not bad thing.”
“Is not fun, either.”
“Maybe dangerous for you.” One eyebrow lifted in warning.
She made a guess at his weak spot. “Sometimes there’s no joy in life without a little risk.”
“Ah! Is true,” he affirmed. “You maybe little bit Russian, eh?”
“Maybe,” she agreed, ignoring a snort from Rocky and saying a silent apology to her English and French ancestors.
Vasili beamed. “I knew this!” he said, shoving Rocky’s shoulder.
“Oh, please.” Rocky closed his eyes, as if in pain.
“But my friend Rocky is right about this thing,” Vasili added.
Rocky looked as surprised as she did.
“Bad men in this business,” Vasili went on. “Is no place for classy woman like you. Rocky is right to protect you. He is good man.”
She didn’t have an argument for that, since stubborn or not, Rocky was possibly the best man she’d ever known.
“You like him, yes?” Vasili prodded.
She darted a glance at Rocky before answering. “Yes.”
In a low voice, Rocky said, “Stay out of this, Vasili.”
“Maybe you love him, too.”
“Vasili . . .” Rocky warned.
Something inside her went soft and mushy. She couldn’t lie. “Maybe I do.”
Rocky froze.
Vasili declared, “He should buy you jewelry. I give good price.”
“He doesn’t have to buy me anything.” She met Rocky’s startled gaze. “He just has to let me be part of his life.”
“I have,” he protested. “I mean . . .” He smiled and squinted as if he’d heard wrong. “Could you say that first part again?”
“I want to be part of your life.”
“That’s good, too, but I meant the other part.”
“You lucky man!” Vasili slapped Rocky’s back, although he’d looked so stunned to begin with she wasn’t sure he even noticed. “Janet is good woman, better than you deserve.”
“Thank you.” She gave Vasili her best smile. “But I think Rocky deserves a good woman.”
The Russian considered it. “If you say so.”
“You just said I was a good man,” Rocky reminded him.
“Not that good.” He turned back to Janet. “Go on.”
She’d given this some thought in the past twenty-four hours. “I think he deserves more than some casual affair with no real emotional connection.”
Rocky cocked an eyebrow in obvious interest.
“Eh,” Vasili said, dismissing his friend’s love life. “Even good man can make do with bimbos. Woman like you deserves fine Russian man with romantic soul, who treat you like princess.”
“You’re very sweet, Mr. . . . Excuse me, I didn’t get your last name.”
“He just goes by Vasili,” Rocky said.
“Petrovich. But you good friend, you call me Vasili.”
Rocky rolled his eyes.
“Vasili, let me ask you something.” She stepped closer and laid a hand on the Russian’s beefy arm as he leaned toward her attentively. “Suppose a woman really cares for you—”
He nodded vigorously. “Do I care back?”
“I hope so.”
“Let’s say yes.” Rocky smiled. “For the sake of your story.”
“Okay,” she said to Vasili. “This woman cares for you enough to want a real relationship. She’s brave and clever in a crisis—she’s proved this before.”
“Good qualities,” Vasili agreed.
“And she’s smart enough to discover that her ex-husband was paying his lawyers with stolen diamonds, and she tells the police in time to recover them.”
“No shit?” Rocky grinned. “Good job.”
“Thank you.”
“Hmm,” Vasili rumbled as he frowned. “Police always a problem.”
“Yes, well, this capable, smart woman wants to share every part of your life, even the slightly dangerous ones, because that’s how much she cares about you. Do you let her?”
Vasili rubbed his chin. “Good question.”
“Yes, it is.” She spoke to Vasili, but her gaze was locked on Rocky. If she stood here much longer she might fall right into those feverish brown eyes. Before she could, she said, “You think about it and let me know.”
“I will,” Vasili called as she walked out the door. She strode past the two burly barbers without glancing at them, yanking the outer door open without even a pause in her step. A feeling of power surged through her, a sense that she could take on the world. She nearly skipped across the street to the abandoned parking lot, elated with the way she’d laid her argument out, and even more elated with the way Rocky had reacted. It had been a long time since a man’s smile had made her tingle, and his had shot jolts down to her toes.
She was reaching for the door handle of her BMW when a hand slipped around her neck and covered her mouth and nose, pulling her back against a hard body. Another hand chopped at her wrist, sending her keys flying from her suddenly numb fingers. She opened her mouth to scream, but a cloth muffled the sound. It smelled funny, too.
Oh, shit, not again. One deep gulp made her realize she should hold her breath, but it was too late. The already dusky sky went pitch black and the sound of heavy breathing in her ear faded to nothing as she slumped into unconsciousness.
Chapter
Fifteen
Rocky grinned. “Damn, I love that woman.”
Vasili nudged him with a his elbow. “Good! I have perfect ring for you!” He hustled around the counter, fumbling with his keys.
He laughed. “I’m not getting engaged, Vasili.” He shot a thoughtful look toward the closed door. “At least not yet.”
Vasili straightened. “Of course you marry Janet. You love her. Very beautiful girl. Fire in eyes.” He gave a knowing wink. “You know what that mean.”
He narrowed his eyes at the Russian, wondering what in the hell had happened to the Mafia boss who used to threaten to cut his fingers off if one single gemstone was missing from a heist he’d ordered. Romance seemed to have turned his aggressive tendencies to mush. The big guy was a sap—who knew?
“What you think, two carats? Three?”
“I’m not giving Janet a stolen ring.”
“Not stolen.” Vasili looked offended. “Loose stone. Get band at store, all legit. Three maybe too much for little fingers, eh? I have nice two and a half.”
Great, a hot diamond, probably stolen from some upscale suburban home and pried from its setting. “I already have a stone, Vasili.” Anything to keep Janet from walking around the rest of her life with a stolen diamond on her finger.
What was he thinking? She wasn’t talking about marriage, and one thing he knew about Janet was not to rush her. But she wanted a relationship, and that was good enough for now.
“Gotta go,” he told Vasili, reaching for the door.
“Wait! We got business.”
The sting. They’d had word that someone was interested in buying the remaining Pell
inni Jewels and might show tonight. The response had been so fast, they were sure they’d hooked the right thief. When he showed, Rocky wanted an up-close look at the bastard who had searched Janet’s condo and killed Sleazy. When he was done with him, Ben could have him.
“I’ll probably be back before he shows. And I decided I’m bringing Janet, because she’s right: We make one hell of a team, and I’m not going to risk losing that. If he stalls on closing the deal, you’ll have it on tape, right? You have cameras hidden in here?”
Vasili stared under lowered brows. “I look stupid to you?”
He had cameras. “Not in the least. I’ll be back.”
“No hurry, she said let her know, she didn’t say deadline,” Vasili called after him, but Rocky didn’t stop. He didn’t want her to think he was hesitating, weighing the decision.
Rocky scanned the street, squinting through the growing darkness as he looked for her rental car. Gone. Not surprising, since she’d had that purposeful look about her. He didn’t want to chase her all the way back to Bloomfield Hills, then drive back here to wait for their thief to show up. If he could get her to pull over, he’d meet her somewhere. It might even be romantic.
He smiled to himself as he stood on the cracked sidewalk outside the barber shop and dialed her number. His gaze wandered along the street as he listened, idly noting the kids loitering outside the convenience store down the block. One ring. Up the street in the other direction, a resale store closed up for the night with a clang of metal bars shutting over the front window. Two rings. She was driving, so she might have to dig the phone out of her purse. Three rings. Four rings. He frowned and looked around again, doing a double take when he saw a BMW in the lot across the street.
He snapped the phone shut and jogged toward the car. The bar’s neon sign cast the only light in the sheltered lot, but he could already tell that it was a dark colored BMW—not the usual car for this neighborhood.
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