Pietra pulled her bolero style rabbit fur coat around her and winced at the cold wind. She sputtered and moaned, turning herself as if to find a direction that would best block her from the breeze while protecting her helmet of heavily sprayed hair.
“No, I need to go back in. This is awful!” Pietra began to shuffle back toward the glass doors.
Mary Jane took Pietra by the shoulders and steered her into a recessed nook in the wall of the building.
“Just a few minutes, Ms. Pietra. You don’t want to trip and fall in that darkness. You’re from New York. You can handle the cold for a minute or two, can’t you?”
Pietra made a face as if now presented with a challenge.
“Yeah, okay. But just for a minute.”
The exterior lights were harsh, washing out Pietra’s skin. Mary Jane could see every wrinkle. She looked much older than expected. Mary Jane had a fleeting pang of guilt, wondering if this battle-axe wasn’t maybe a real human being under the layers of make-up and gold. Did she really just want to be loved? Did she just want attention? Could she just be clueless about how to relate to people?
Mary Jane pulled a cigarette from her apron and popped it into her mouth. She could feel tobacco leaves on her tongue and quickly reversed the Marlboro’s direction, spitting the flakes onto the ground. Depressing the igniter several times she lost the battle with the wind. Pietra groaned and cupped her hands around Mary Jane’s cigarette.
“For Gawd sake, yuh gonna kill yourselves with those things.” She looked away while Mary Jane lit the smoke.
“Thanks. And yeah, I know.”
Glancing around at the street Mary Jane saw a long green Lincoln Town car pull underneath the overhang and stop in front of the valet stand.
Past the glowing green monstrosity, beyond the parking lot and the gates of the club, she saw a hunched figure pushing a cart slowly along Piedmont Avenue.
CHAPTER 80
Sam stepped into the office as Ursula’s first song ended. The main room lightened to a reddish glow as Max brought the lights up. Still nowhere near full strength, but light enough for waitresses to begin making their rounds.
The crowd was silent. Seconds passed until applause, whistles, and cheering erupted from the packed house. It shook the main room. Sam could feel the floor beneath her feet tremble slightly. Glancing out the windows, she could see Ursula holding a position midway up the pole with her arm outstretched, the torch perpendicular to her glistening body.
The noise didn’t stop. It intensified.
Sam realized Max was holding the music for the second song until the riotous energy on the floor subsided. Ursula slid down the pole and made her way to the back corner of the stage where she extinguished one end of her torch and picked up a set of Poi. She lit the Poi and extinguished the other end of the torch in a jar.
The Poi, which were essentially wicks attached to a stainless steel cable about two feet long were made for swinging like num-chucks. The handles were leather straps with a swivel snap to prevent the cables from twisting and coiling out of control.
“Shit,” Sam muttered.
Ursula’s old show had only involved torches. Sam had seen Poi shows at concerts and raves, but never flaming Poi, and never at a strip club. Glancing down at Ursula’s collection of props in the corner of the stage, she saw a five-torch fire fan and another torch designed for fire breathing. Apparently Ursula had been practicing quite a bit since her accident. Dumbfounded, Sam stepped back from the glass wishing she could be part of the crowd instead of sneaking around in the darkened corners.
Ursula started swinging the Poi, giving the appearance of large circles of fire, four feet in diameter. Prodigy’s Firestarter vibrated through the speaker system and spurred on the spinning balls of fire held by the dark, nimble dancer.
“Sam?”
Gio’s voice startled Sam and pulled her back to the task at hand.
“Gio?”
CHAPTER 81
Putting the car in gear, Joe slowly rolled the sedan from its parking space in a public lot adjacent to the back of the club.
“Where ya’ goin’?” the other agent asked.
“I gotta take a shit. We’ve been on stake-out for nine hours and I can’t hold it.”
The agent nodded, picking up his radio to signal the team in front of the club that they’d be gone for a few minutes.
“Nothin’ seems to be happening anyway, and I want to take care of this before the club shuts down.”
Steering the car along a side street past the club, Joe turned right onto Piedmont Avenue in the direction of the girls favorite haunt – Denny’s. He searched the sidewalks for the homeless woman he’d seen turn this way.
A police car raced past, heading in the opposite direction with lights and siren going full blast.
Up ahead, Joe spotted a dark figure moving along the opposite side of the street, with her back turned to their approaching car. Joe pulled up next to the cart-pushing street person and tapped his dash light on, bringing the sedan to a stop.
The assisting agent started to clear his garbage from his lap and remove his seat belt.
“She’s just off the curb, man. I’ll help her and we’ll be on our way. You hang tight and listen to the radio. Sounds like there’s something goin’ on up the street.”
Nodding, the agent asked, “Isn’t that the homeless lady who was rooting around behind the club?”
“I think so. I’ll see if she knows anything when I help her. Tit for tat, you know?” Joe smiled and exited the unmarked car.
CHAPTER 82
Sam raced around the office, pulling open the doors to the unlocked closet at the back of the room. She ejected the DVDs from their slots, collecting the discs as quickly as she could. Reaching back into the pink Victoria’s Secret bag Birdie had left on the steps for her she pulled out a stack of jewel cases.
Popping them open she began loading the new DVDs back into the trays. Why the hell hadn’t they thought to empty the trays ahead of time? Tapping buttons on the DVD recorders, she got the trays closed again. She pushed the play buttons. Porn appeared on each screen, one by one. Dumping the Security DVDs back into the bag, she pulled out a small white cotton cloth.
Racing around the office she began wiping things down. Gio, who was now completely absorbed in the writhing flesh on the monitors seemed quite content.
Sam grabbed the two shot glasses on her way out. She’d drop them at the bar for Mary Jane to wash and throw the bag into her locker. Customers often brought the girls gifts, so it wouldn’t seem that strange to see a dancer walking to the dressing room with a small shopping bag filled with goodies.
She glanced around the office one last time. Pushing the door latch lever with her cloth, she slipped into the darkness.
CHAPTER 83
“Maaax,” Grace purred.
“S’up G?” Max’s attention was flipping between the stage and the soundboard in front of him. Grace relaxed slightly, believing this was a good sign. Max was the type who would let you know immediately if he had the upper hand.
“Nothin,’ just wanted to come see if you were lonely.”
Max glanced at her with a curious look on his face. Grace wasn’t the type to flirt with co-workers, especially since there wasn’t a man in there who would have rebuffed her advances.
“Are you drunk?” Max was perplexed.
“Maybe a little.” Grace wobbled toward him and slung her arms around his neck from behind, pressing her body against his back.
“Um, okay . . . Gimme a minute, Grace. This high-maintenance bitch has managed to work up a stage set with more fuckin’ detail than any ten features I’ve ever seen. Are you watching this show? I’d complain, but her performance is worth the trouble. Ya know?”
“I haven’t been watching, Max. I’d rather watch you.” More eyelash batting and she was in. Instant alibi if anyone ever questioned him.
CHAPTER 84
Pietra scrunched her nose up as she watched th
e two tall black men exit their car, handing the keys to one of the valets who was jogging in place to keep warm.
“Oh Lord,” she whispered to Mary Jane, nodding her head toward the pair, “What is ‘dis world comin’ to?” She crossed herself for show.
Mary Jane glanced back over her shoulder as if to check out what Pietra was referring to. “Them? Do you know about those guys, Pietra?”
“Them?” Pietra made another sourpuss face.
“They’re two of the richest and might I add most gentlemanly guys you’ll ever meet.”
Pietra grunted, “Right. Don’t try to sucka me dawl.”
“I’m serious, Pietra! I know they look a little eccentric, but they made a killing during the dot com boom. They don’t want anyone to know how much money they have, so yeah, there they are.”
Pietra studied Mary Jane’s face to figure out whether or not she was being played. “Those two?”
“MmmHmm.” Mary Jane dragged on her cigarette and waved Tyrone and Tyrese over.
Walking onto the sidewalk in a perfectly synched strut, the two kissed Mary Jane on opposite cheeks.
“Tyrone, Tyrese, may I introduce you to Ms. Pietra Maria Speranza DiFrancesco.”
The two giants smiled and took turns kissing Pietra’s hand.
Not sure what to make of the two, but clearly intrigued by the possibility of extraordinary wealth, Pietra blushed. “It’s a pleashuh.”
“The pleasure is ours,” The twins said in unison without missing a beat.
Tyrone wrapped a long arm around her as if to shield her from the cold. “What’s a beautiful creature like you doing out here in the cold? Let’s get you inside.”
With that, he whipped around and steered her toward the door.
Mary Jane flicked her cigarette onto the tarmac and followed a few steps behind, quietly filling Tyrese in as they went.
CHAPTER 85
Not believing her shitty luck, Birdie shot an angry look over her shoulder at the unmarked sedan with a flashing police light that had pulled to a stop, opposite of her.
Joe strode across the street toward her with a steely look on his face.
“What the FUCK are you up to, Birdie?” he hissed under his breath.
“Warkin’.” She grinned up at him, yellow teeth and all. “The clubs been slow and this is my other job.”
Joe grabbed the edge of the cart and looked down at the bags.
“Don’t fuck with me Birdie. What are you girls up to?”
Birdie squirmed and stared at his hands on the edge of the cart.
“Please, Joe.” She met his eyes straight-on. “I can’t tell you. This is none of your business. Please don’t make it a problem.”
He searched her face for some sign of weakness he could exploit to reach the truth. He saw none. “Let me help you get this back on the sidewalk and keep your voice down.”
Birdie glanced over his shoulder and saw another man in the car. Joe’s partner was staring off down the street, talking into a radio.
“Can’t get it back up the curb, Joe, it’s too heavy. Storage place is half a block down with a ramp to the curb. That’s our best bet.”
Joe’s eyes burned straight through her, “Cans, huh?”
Birdie dropped her head and pushed the cart toward the ramp.
Joe walked along side with his left hand resting on the cart.
“Do you know how much trouble you girls are in? Do you have the slightest idea who you’re fucking with? This guy isn’t some average sleezeball, Birdie. He’s a serious player in a very large, very dangerous game. Killing you four for whatever bullshit you’re pulling right now isn’t something he would hesitate to do. Think about Lena for Christssake!” He kept his voice low but the urgency chilled Birdie.
Nodding, she kept her focus on the bags resting in her cart.
“So this is revenge, huh?” Joe continued, “Greed. That’s what it is. Just greed, plain and simple.”
Birdie’s head snapped. “Don’ yeh lecture me, Joe! What the fack do yeh know about any of this? Yeh facked Lena a few times and now you are an expert on who she or any of us are? Bollocks! Yeh don’t know shit! She was my friend. I loved her. Take your badge and shove it up yer arse cuz’ your brand of justice is always a day late and a dollar short. We’re not gonna grow old watchin’ you bastards fack this up. We ah getting’ this killer the only way we know to really hurt him. So, if you ah here to go all holier-than-thou on me you can save it, cuz’ I’m not interested, copper.”
Two narrow tracks of tears ran down Birdie’s cheeks as she doubled her efforts pushing the cart forward.
The two walked together in silence for a few yards.
“I can’t protect you girls forever, you know.” Joe’s voice was calm.
“Who’s askin’ yeh to?” Birdie softened a bit but was still pissed that he made her cry.
“I’m just saying, if he comes for you girls, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop him.” Joe paused and moved his hand on top of Birdie’s. “I’m sorry, Birdie. I loved her too even though I didn’t know her as long as you did. I feel cheated.”
Birdie nodded.
The twosome reached the ramp in front of the automated gate of the storage place. Birdie pushed the cart onto the safety of the sidewalk.
“We’re so close to nailing this bastard, Birdie. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“We ah past the point of no return, love.” Birdie winked. The tracks of her tears had washed pale stripes down her face, adding to the grimy look.
“Okay. We just have to link him to his associates and we got ‘em. We’re so close,” Joe repeated, staring back at the cruiser.
Birdie removed a glove and rummaged through one of the patch pockets on the front of her coat. Producing the thumb drive on a keychain she said, “Give me yer hand.”
Joe held his palm out, close to the cart so an onlooker couldn’t see what they were doing.
Birdie dropped the memory stick in his hand.
“There’s yer link. Go nail that bastard.”
Joe looked into Birdie’s eyes, this time tears welled in his own. “What’s this?”
“A gift.” Birdie smiled.
Joe squeezed her hand in thanks.
“Don’t smile, Birdie,” he said. “It’s gross.”
CHAPTER 86
Slamming the phone down, Fedya’s brow was knit with frustration. Thoughts of punishment and revenge ran wild as he tried to calm himself.
How could Gio be so fucking stupid? How does someone steal $2.1 million in cash right under your nose? Fedya paced while he mentally assessed the damage. A few million dollars wouldn’t make or break Fedya but the sheer incompetence baffled him. Claiming he was drugged and unable to remember anything about the events, Gio sounded to Fedya like he was just trying to cover his own ass.
Retaliation for such carelessness, or worse, such disobedience would not be swift. He would make sure Gio suffered. He wanted Gio to beg for death, then he would have the pleasure of killing Gio’s yappy Pomeranian of a mother.
Hitting the conference button on his office phone, Fedya barked an order to his assistant to book him passage back to Atlanta. He would leave tomorrow.
He sat in his overstuffed leather office chair and stared out the window at the snowcapped Urals. He tripped a lever on the underside of his massive mahogany desk and the sound of hydraulics humming came from a bookshelf to his left. The automated system pushed a section of the shelves forward then in front of its neighbor. Fedya strode across the Persian rugs scattered over the hardwood floors and into the safe room. Inside was a medium sized arsenal with weapons of every description. Some were antiques, purely for show and others were cutting edge technology, fitted with special sights, night vision, and extended clips for holding extra rounds.
The room soothed Fedya’s nerves more thoroughly than any drink or drug ever could. He breathed in the smell of antiseptic cleaning solution and gunpowder. The walls were lined in Rosewood. Special h
ooks and locking clasps held his most prized possessions in plain view. Waist-high, custom-built cabinetry held ammunition of every make and description. Guns and knives hung on the walls above.
He ran his fingers along the steel barrel of his favorite assault rifle, an antique small-bore, selective-fire rifle with a detachable box magazine. It had been originally designed by a famous Russian armorer named Federov. Colonel Federov. Fedya loved the similarity in their names and considered himself a kindred spirit of the late master gunsmith. His eyes wandered across the walls, admiring his impressive collection. Guns, knives, axes, crossbows, halberds, and throwing stars were just a few of the things that made him feel warm inside. His preference for killing with his bare hands didn’t limit the pleasure he got from admiring his collection of killing machines.
He was lost in thoughts of torture when he heard the muffled ring of his office line.
Growling under his breath, Fedya stormed from the hidden room and snapped the phone from its cradle. “SPEAK!”
The voice at the other end was calm and quiet. “Hello, Patrushev-san, this is Keiko.”
It took Fedya a moment to snap from his rage and realize who he was talking to.
“Keiko, hello dear.” Fedya replied.
Keiko was Seiji Matsuda’s most trusted personal assistant. She had been a loyal and valued member of his inner circle for years.
“ Patrushev-san, a million apologies for the intrusion. Matsuda-san has asked me to call and confirm the bank account numbers with you. I fear I must have made a mistake transcribing them. The account I just checked does not contain the funds upon which we agreed. I’m afraid I must have made a mistake somewhere to have caused this confusion.” Keiko’s voice trembled ever so slightly as she recited her message in the deferential manner that she habitually affected. Fedya was far too perceptive to be taken in by the mask of powerlessness, a snare for the unwary, behind which the real Keiko hid.
Fedya’s mind went blank, not sure he understood, “Yes, Kiki. Do you want me to repeat the numbers for you?”
Tea Leafing: A Novel Page 24
