Russian Connection

by Lakes, Lynde

  She headed for the basketball courts and found them deserted. She waited a few minutes, and then headed for the goldfish pond inside the apartment compound. Sometimes Jimmy hung out there. Nikki sat down on the edge and watched the fish dart about.

  The midmorning sun glinted on her plain gold band. Although divorced, she’d continued to wear it as a shield against men. With sudden rage she yanked the ring off her finger and threw it into the center of the water. It was an illogical act, but it sure felt good. The ring sank out of sight, then the surface smoothed again. Damn you, Luke. Glenda would be safe if it weren’t for you. How much more trouble can a dead man cause?

  She looked up at the sound of a ball thudding against concrete. In the distance, thirteen-year-old Jimmy Addison came toward her, bouncing a basketball. Along with quad earrings in one of his ears, and a black leather jacket with zippers in the sleeves, he wore oversized khaki trousers, leg bottoms cut in a zigzag line.

  He didn’t see her and turned and headed into the park. Nikki hurried after him. Before she could call out to Jimmy, a man darted out from behind a bush and approached him. Radlavich! Her heart pounded at the sight of his lean muscled body, his confident gait. Instinctively, she stepped behind the trunk of a huge old sycamore and pressed her back against it. What did Radlavich want with Jimmy? Earlier, he had used the kid as a threat and made her think the teenager might be in danger. She’d love to sneak up and eavesdrop.

  Jimmy had talked to Luke the day before his murder. Was Radlavich asking him about that?

  She waited until Radlavich left Jimmy and disappeared down the other side of a slope.

  When Jimmy headed toward the basketball courts, she ran after him. His sprint was wide, emphasizing the lean, gangly limbs of a boy shooting up almost overnight, racing to be a man. She poured on some speed. She had to find out if Jimmy knew anything about Glenda’s kidnapping, and what Radlavich was up to. If his past actions were any indication, she wouldn’t like it.

  “Jimmy, wait up,” she called.

  He stopped. “I heard about Ms. Hollinger,” he said, his face tight with concern.

  Nikki’s heart sped at the mention of Glenda’s name. “Did you hear any screams or commotion coming from my apartment last night?”

  “The cops asked me the same thing this morning.” Jimmy bounced the ball a couple of times. “And another guy—I think he was a cop too. But I couldn’t help them.” Jimmy tugged on his ear; his quad earrings caught blinding sun-glints. “Jeez, if I’d heard anything, I woulda called the cops myself.”

  She blinked away the glare to bring her eyes back into focus. So the police and Radlavich were asking questions in the neighborhood. Good.

  Jimmy spun the ball on the tip of his index finger. “If you want to put up flyers or anything, I’ll help,” he said. “Maybe we could organize a search party, or whatever.”

  “Thanks. I’m getting flyers made now. I could use some help posting them.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “They won’t be ready until noon.”

  He shrugged. “Want to shoot a few baskets?”

  “One on one?” Great. The exercise could release some of her tension, and give her a chance to grill Jimmy and maybe jar his memory. He might know more than he thought he did.

  His face brightened. “Loser buys the burgers.”

  “You’re on.”

  They played for about thirty minutes with him winning by ten points. He whooped at his win and danced all over the court, doing what looked like an Indian rain dance.

  When he finally settled down, she asked, “Golden Arches okay?”

  He nodded, and they jogged back to the apartments to get her Camry. Once they were on their way, he started telling her about the new snake he’d added to his collection. He now had twelve. She didn’t understand his love for the slithering herps, but his enthusiasm was contagious. He raved about his pets even after they’d ordered and began to eat. When they were almost through, she switched the subject to a snake of another kind. “Did the police ask you any questions about Luke?”

  Jimmy wiped some catsup from his mouth with a crumpled napkin then said, “No. But that other guy did.” Jimmy lowered his voice. “It’s freaky. A murder and a kidnapping. What’s going on?”

  Nikki bit the corner of her lip. “I wish I knew.”

  “Are you in any danger?” Jimmy asked.

  She didn’t want to worry him. “I don’t think so. What did that other man tell you?”

  “He said I was one of the last people to talk to Mr. Brown.”

  “What did you tell him?” she asked, unable to keep the urgency out of her voice.

  Jimmy squirmed and his face turned bright red. “I gave him the name of Mr. Brown’s…er…a…cousin.”

  “It’s all right, Jimmy.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “We both know the blonde wasn’t his cousin.”

  “Yeah, well, this Kitty Iverson needed someone to set up a web page for her mail-order business. She sells battery-operated gadgets and electrodes to hospitals and health supply stores and wanted to expand to a bigger market.”

  Nikki nodded, knowing Jimmy was a computer ace. It surprised her that the blonde’s business sounded respectable. She would have expected a mistress to sell something like adult sex toys. Maybe that was what the expansion to a bigger market was about. “Do you have her address?”

  “I told that guy I didn’t. But I think I can figure it out. Let’s see. It’s North of the freeway in the 3600 block.” He tapped his braces with his thumbnail. “The number had a two and a four in it and it was halfway down the block.” He drew an invisible 36 in the palm of his hand with his index finger, then grinned, revealing deep dimples. “It must be 3642 Valencia.”

  She understood Jimmy’s around-the-block memory method. She often used a similar one herself. Why did Luke have to involve Jimmy in his sordid affair? She sighed. Perhaps it would turn out to be a blessing in disguise if the woman could shed some light on what was going on.

  Would she have the nerve to face Luke’s mistress? If it helped her find Glenda, there was no question—she’d face the devil himself if necessary. She scribbled the number down. Besides the possibility of getting a lead on the kidnappers, confronting Luke’s mistress would fulfill a painful curiosity. And if the woman gave her something concrete, the police would have to move faster on rescuing Glenda.

  When she and Jimmy left McDonald’s, Nikki picked up the flyers. Seeing the picture of Glenda’s smiling face and forthright coffee-brown eyes brought tears to Nikki’s eyes. “I won’t stop until you’re safely home,” she whispered under her breath.

  With the help of Jimmy and a couple of his friends, Chico and Aaron, Nikki plastered posters on the major thoroughfares of the city. Restaurants and grocery stores let them put the flyers in their windows. Aaron volunteered to tuck a flyer inside of each of the newspapers before he delivered them.

  Nikki periodically checked her messages for news from Radlavich or the police. Nothing. Her heart sank. She closed her eyes a moment then mentally shook herself—maybe no news was good news.

  Chapter Fifteen

  On the way back to Nikki’s apartment, Jimmy and his friends asked to be dropped off at their friend Billy’s house. “We’ll deliver more flyers tomorrow,” they called as they got out.

  She watched the boys go inside, then headed home. Distributing the flyers had been a bigger job than she’d imagined. Still, if only one person had seen Glenda it would be worth it. Jimmy and his friends had been so great, running their legs off to help.

  Jimmy was like the younger brother she’d never had, or the son she hoped to have someday. The last time she and Luke shot baskets with the teenager, Luke bought them all chocolate ice cream cones and murmured to her that someday they would have a strong, athletic son just like Jimmy. Lies, all lies.

  She should’ve seen the warning signs. Within several weeks of their marriage, Luke asked to borrow the inheritance that her grandmother had left her. He
claimed to have money problems in his business, but with her help he could turn it all around, then they’d be on easy street.

  It never occurred to her to question the loan—helping her husband seemed the right thing to do. The day after she signed the money over to him Mr. Nice Guy disappeared, and Luke turned into a door-slamming, cursing stranger. After one of his frequent two-week trips to Russia, and in one of his rare sweet moments, he claimed they were almost out of the woods, and he’d be able to give back every cent with interest in a month. It didn’t happen. More lies. Never again would she give her heart to a lying man.

  Nikki parked the Camry in her apartment’s assigned slot and sat there, feeling empty. She flinched when the passenger door suddenly opened. Radlavich slid in. Stunned, she just stared at him. His midnight black hair had fallen to his forehead, contributing to his dark and dangerous image.

  “I was beginning to worry about you,” he said in a deep European accent that sent her heart into double-time.

  She inhaled slowly, giving herself a moment to regain her composure. “Have you learned anything about Glenda?”

  “Boris is running down leads while I take care of this end.”

  “What exactly are you taking care of on this end?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You.” He stared at her until she squirmed in her seat, then he said, “Let’s compare notes on our talks with the Addison kid.”

  “Are you spying on me?” she asked, fighting quivering knees.

  Dayd grinned. “Only after you spied on me.” He slouched in the seat, looking all too comfortable in his lean, body-molding black jeans and matching T-shirt.

  Nikki tightened her hands on the steering wheel in order to stay grounded. She couldn’t let Dayd’s strong sexual magnetism distract her. He might have uncovered something she’d missed when he’d grilled Jimmy about Luke’s mistress. “Why are you so interested in the blonde?”

  “Luke’s suitcases could be at her place. Along with the missing disks.” Nikki frowned, aware that he’d paused and was now studying her so intently that she experienced the need to cross her arms over her breasts to cover her feeling of nakedness. “Did you know your husband made a habit of marrying women with healthy bank accounts?”

  She shook her head, too stunned to speak. She’d suspected Luke had only married her for her inheritance, but it had never occurred to her that— She breathed in, needing to buoy herself up with oxygen. “He’s been married before?”

  “Three times. Probably there would’ve been more, but some of his victims gave up their money without the benefit of marriage.”

  She refused to consider herself just another victim. Men. Her trust-quotient dropped to a new low. “How do you know this?”

  “There’s a file on him that would fill a novel and two sequels.”

  “Who has this file?”

  “It is bouncing around between several government agencies.”

  “Do you work for the government?”

  “Let’s talk about me later. What do you know about Kitty Iverson?”

  “Nothing.” She wished she’d never heard her name. “Why did you have to ask Jimmy about Kitty? Why wasn’t her name in that file?”

  “She’s a new playmate. The kid couldn’t remember her address and her phone isn’t listed in her name. It took me a while to locate her through the post office. I’m going to talk to her now, and you’re coming along. I want to keep my eye on you.”

  Nikki had already decided that Kitty might know something about Luke’s murder and maybe even something about Glenda’s kidnapping. “I don’t take orders, Radlavich. But if you ask politely perhaps—”

  Lines of humor crinkled around Dayd’s eyes. “Who are you trying to kid? A chance to meet the latest other woman?” He tilted his head, looking all too cocky. “You wouldn’t miss it for a year’s supply of Godiva chocolates.”

  She wished she could deny it, but this was perfect. She could meet the woman and look her over, while Dayd questioned her. Would she hate Kitty, or pity her? More important, could the woman shed some light on Glenda’s kidnapping?

  “Let’s go,” Dayd said. “Drive. You have the address.” Had she told him that?

  “Forget already? I don’t take orders. Try the word please.”

  “All right, please.” He looked amused. What he found humorous eluded her. She’d be glad when he no longer intruded into her life.

  It was already getting dark. They drove in silence until she pulled into Kitty Iverson’s well-lit circular driveway. Her three-car garage was open, the silver BMW parked inside.

  “Come on,” Dayd said. As they left the car, he took her arm in his warm, firm grip and guided her up the seven granite steps to Kitty’s front door. Nikki’s knees went rubbery as they rang the bell. Dayd’s leanly muscled body was less than an inch away, and his closeness further jangled her nerves.

  The house was as silent as a tomb. “She’s not home,” she said, and turned away, eager to flee.

  “Sure she is. The garage’s open, car’s inside. We’ll try the rear yard. Lights are on back there. Maybe she’s out by the pool, or at the tennis court.”

  “I’ll just wait in the car.”

  “No, you won’t.” He gripped her arm tighter. “We’re in this together. I might need you to distract Kitty while I look for the disks.”

  “Forget it. I want no part in any deception.”

  “Come on. Kitty might know some details that could lead us to Glenda. I have a hunch she’s part of the gang—a seductress sent to entrap Luke. If we shake her up, she might let something slip.”

  Nikki had already considered that. She frowned. Radlavich was using the carrot-at-the-end-of-the-stick psychology on her. To her chagrin, it worked.

  Out on the patio, soft music came from hidden speakers. Floodlights mounted on both ends of the stone patio brightened the palm tree lined landscape. The air smelled of chlorine. An automatic pool sweep sent tiny ripples through the crystalline water. The place had a deserted air.

  The sliding glass door to the den stood wide open. All the lights were on.

  “Look,” he whispered close to Nikki’s ear and urged her forward. “She’s expecting us.”

  Nikki froze. “Are you crazy?” Knowing the way Dayd operated, she shouldn’t have been surprised that he saw an open door and blazing lights as an invitation.

  “Don’t back out on me now.” His vice-like grip cut into her flesh.

  She tried to jerk free. “Let go of me. I thought we came here only to talk to Kitty.”

  “We did. But this is just too good to pass up.” He pulled her inside. She detected a new sense of urgency in him. “We can be in and out in a few minutes if you help me search. Luke’s stuff should be in the master bedroom. We’ll just grab everything and split.”

  Her face flamed. She dug her heels in, determined not to be a party to housebreaking. But outmatched by brute strength and raging male adrenaline, she failed to stop Dayd from dragging her down the hallway with him.

  The master bedroom’s double doors stood wide open. Nikki gasped.

  On the floor lay a blonde in a white robe, crimson seeping from her chest.

  Nikki gasp. It had to be Kitty Iverson!

  Nikki stood frozen in the doorway, fighting lightheadedness and a surge of nausea.

  Dayd rushed forward and checked the body for a pulse, then, looking regretful, he shook his head. Using a handkerchief, he searched Kitty’s robe pockets, then abandoned her and began digging through drawers. His cold-hearted behavior broke Nikki’s inertia and she rushed to the phone.

  Before she could dial 911, Dayd grabbed the receiver from her hands, slammed it down, and wiped their fingerprints from it. “This could be a setup,” he growled. “We can’t be found here.” His jaw-muscle twitched. “You can call from somewhere else.”

  Her heart pounded. Oh, swell. Thanks to Dayd, she could be charged with breaking and entering. Oh, God, even murder! Why had she allowed herself to be drawn into this?


  Dayd quickly scanned the room, squatted, looked under the bed and scooped up something.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He grabbed her hand. “We’ll discuss it later. The killer may still be around. Let’s get out of here.” He pulled her along as he ran out the front door.

  “Freeze,” someone shouted. They faced bright lights and a bank of police guns—all pointed directly at them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  They were interrogated separately in semi-dark, windowless rooms deep inside the S.B.P.D. Scared out of her wits to be in such a mess, Nikki hoped Dayd’s story matched hers. But after all the lies, she had zero confidence in him.

  “We have witnesses who saw Radlavich in the alley, standing over your husband’s body,” Detective Sinclair barked. “Now we find the two of you fleeing a second murder scene. How do you explain that?” He leaned over and glared at her with huge, brown protuberant eyes.

  She twisted in her chair. Just being with Radlavich made her look guilty. Still, when he offered to help find Glenda… But if there was a witness… Oh, God. If Dayd killed Luke, maybe he killed Kitty too. Nikki shuddered. What if he’d taken her there to use her as an alibi?

  “Here’re the facts, Mrs. Brown,” Sinclair said in a harsh voice. “Your ex-husband cheated on you with the blonde, and now both of them are dead. And you’re caught running from the home of the murdered other woman with the man who may have killed your husband.”

  Nikki dug her fingernails into her palms. “I want a lawyer before I say another thing.” Her dad would know a good one. A sinking feeling washed over her. How could she ask for his help again?