Private Dancer (The Bancrofts: Book 3)

by Barrett, Brenda

  Micah laughed. "I hope she is not working as an under cover dancer. Taj would have kittens. Maybe we should call her and ask her to get in touch with Cathy. It makes sense."

  "I have to do something," Adrian said, "I feel so inadequate just sitting here. Suppose he hurts her. I mean, if he is so dangerous, as everyone is saying, Cathy may be dead."

  Micah shook his head. "Don't think about that right now. Did Natasha give you a contact number?"

  "Yes." Adrian nodded, wracking his brain to remember where he had put it. She had given him her business card and told him to contact her if he had any problems. It must be in the pocket of a suit he wore that day.

  He went over to his open suitcase and rummaged in it until he found the suit. The business card was there, stuck in the front pocket. He admitted to himself that he didn't intend to use it. He felt odd calling Natasha. He had no real experience in dealing with the law except for a speeding ticket that he had gotten when he was leaving Jamaica five years ago.

  She answered on the second ring.

  "Hi, Natasha. This is Adrian." He didn't know what else to say. Was he going to sound like a complete wuss if he told her that he was concerned for Cathy? He had told her that he had no idea what his feelings for Cathy were, and now, a few days after, he was calling so distressed about Cathy being missing.

  "Hi." Natasha sounded muffled. There was pounding music in the background.

  "I was trying to get in touch with Cathy and I can't," Adrian said swiftly, "I am afraid that Nanjo has done something to her."

  Natasha cleared her throat and whispered. "She is here at the club. I don't know what's going on but she has a black eye. I can't talk to you right now."

  Adrian swallowed when he heard that. "Natasha, could you tell her to come with me on Monday. I am planning to leave at six in the morning. Tell her to meet me at the hotel."

  Natasha mumbled in the affirmative and hung up the phone.

  "She's at the club," Adrian said to Micah.

  Micah's eyebrows shot up in incredulity. "But her child is sick. I thought you said she was a good person, just misunderstood."

  "Natasha said she is sporting a black eye."

  "Oh," Micah shook his head. "When you lose your goody-two-shoes, you really do it spectacularly."

  Adrian chuckled. "Is that a nice way of saying I am a screwed up?"

  Micah nodded. "Yup. I am leaving tonight you know. What can I do for you when I get back?"

  "Tell Mom and Dad that I'm in a pickle."

  Micah shook his head. "Nah. Hearing it from me will not have the same impact, Mom will think I am joking, and Dad will chase me from his office in a rage. Coming from you, they will take it seriously. They will go silent, then Mom will cry and Dad will look embarrassed. Oh, I wish I could see him when you break the news."

  Adrian shook his head. "Micah, you are something else. Tell me about your rape charge thing," Adrian said lazily, easing himself down in the chair. "Take my mind off all of this."

  "Well," Micah said, "I will happily oblige you— if you feed me."

  *****

  Natasha waited for Cathy to finish her set on stage. Nanjo was hosting a VIP party and she was to clean up after them because there would be another party in the wee hours of the morning. She was sitting in her usual spot in the dressing room when Cathy walked in drunkenly. They were the only two persons in the dressing room, but that could change fast. Natasha had to act quickly.

  "Did Nanjo give you that black eye?" she walked over to Cathy, looking at her closely as she applied makeup remover.

  "Yes Ma'am. Lie down with dogs and you get fleas," Cathy said gently, wiping her face.

  Natasha looked around the dressing room making sure that nobody was within earshot. She even opened the door to the passageway to see if anybody was lurking outside.

  "You have to get out of this relationship," Natasha said urgently turning back toward Cathy.

  Cathy said laconically, "I know, but I am not a regular battered woman. Thanks for the concern though."

  "Adrian said you should meet him at the hotel on Monday morning. He plans to leave at six," Natasha whispered fiercely, just as two other girls came into the dressing room laughing.

  "Hey, Cat," one of them said. "Why are you bothering to take off your makeup. Nanjo is asking for you. He wants you to join him at the party upstairs."

  Cathy nodded at the girl. "Thanks." Then she looked at Natasha curiously. How did she know Adrian?

  She had a plan to get her hands on her other phone that she kept hidden in her locker here. She thought of it as her back up phone. No one knew the number since she had bought it last year on a whim. She kept it charged and topped up with call credit for a rainy day. She planned to use it to call Mrs. Pink in the night when Nanjo was busy.

  Now she had to go to his dratted party and laugh and act like she was happy when a part of her was dying. She needed to know how Avia was doing, and she needed to know if Adrian was serious when he asked her to run away with him.

  For now, she could just fantasize some more about what her life would be like if there was no Nanjo and if she had chosen Adrian—what would life be like with Adrian and Avia and her living together as a family. Could he really forget what a fool she had been over the last five years? Could he really forgive her for all the major blunders she had made?

  If she even had the remotest chance of going back to Mount Faith, she needed a miracle she thought feverishly, an absolute miracle.

  The song, 'What a Friend We Have in Jesus' kept coming to her mind. Especially the lines, "O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear, All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer." It seemed incongruous, hearing that song playing in her head while in a nightclub. The two just did not go well together: the soft insistent gospel tune playing in her mind while the booming beat of another song tried to stifle it out, but it persisted, its simple message giving her the uncomfortable feeling that she was really forfeiting peace because of this lifestyle.

  There was never any joy in living the way she did. The parties, the fake laughter, the dancing, and the murky living were just too much trouble.

  She could remember feeling the calmest and the most content when she used to read her Bible regularly and pray. Though she had believed that God had abandoned her, it was clear as day to her that he really hadn’t.

  She was the one who listened to her own reasoning, had abandoned him, and made some of the worst mistakes in her life. She could still remember Adrian earnestly saying to her, once, a long time ago, "It was God who saved your life from your family’s massacre so that you can do something good with it." How had she even forgotten that?

  God really had spared her; that wasn't some weird coincidence or mistake. The timing had been too perfect for it to be otherwise. It was God who had made her meet Adrian. Though she had managed to royally mess that up, she was getting a second chance.

  She wondered, hysterically, what the other girls, who were touching up their lipstick in the mirror, would do if she suddenly fell on her knees and started to pray. She really needed to take this whole issue to God in prayer. She had thought, a couple years ago, after a particularly rough night at the club, when inside of her felt cold and empty, that she was no longer worthy to even reach out to God. All of this was her choice and she deserved her punishment.

  She deserved to lose Adrian and Avia, but tonight of all the nights, because Adrian was willing to be with her despite all she'd done, she could hear God's voice speaking clearer than ever before.

  It was Him saying, "Choose me Cathy." Several years ago, she had not only turned her back on Adrian, but on her Maker as well.

  The mascara wand that she was holding suspended in the air for the longest while, clattered to the floor, and she snapped back to the present.

  She was going to leave Nanjo now—tonight. She grabbed the makeup remover. If he was going to kill her, it was best for her soul that she died a believer. She needed a qui
et place to pray and pour out her heart to the Lord. She also needed a place to hide until Monday morning.

  She swung around, and her eyes caught Natasha's who was looking at her with great interest. Maybe she would help her. If she stayed with Natasha, Nanjo would never in a million years think to look for her there, wherever 'there' was. She had no idea where Natasha lived. She went over to Natasha's corner and said to her quietly, "I need to stay with you until Monday, until I leave for Mount Faith with Adrian."

  Natasha didn't even bat an eyelid. "When do you want to leave here?"

  "Now. I am not going to that party, and I am not coming back here, ever."

  Natasha nodded and glanced at the fresh batch of girls who had come into the room. She withdrew her cell phone and said into it. "Cat is coming. She wants to stay with me."

  She looked up at a curious Cathy and said, her voice very low. "Walk right out of the club… pass the security at the gate. On the other side of the road is a white van… heavily tinted front windows… they'll take it from there."

  "But I..." Cathy looked at Natasha as if she had gone mad. "This is so weird."

  "Don't argue," Natasha said under her breath. "I am Adrian's friend, remember?"

  "Right." Cathy got up from her crouch. She knew next to nothing about this cleaning lady, or the white van parked outside. Who would have a white van conveniently waiting for an escaping dancer? What the hell was going on? Was she getting herself into even more trouble here?

  She didn't argue though. She went into the shower and rapidly washed. She hauled on her blue jeans and a long sleeved black sweater. She caught up her hair in a ponytail. She looked like an ordinary girl.

  Surely, the security couldn't tell that she was Cat, the dancer. All she had now to do was avoid Natty. He had been acting like her bodyguard but had stopped watching her keenly when she came to the club earlier in the day because the club was like a fortress.

  She went to the bank of lockers and took out the phone she had hidden in an old biscuit tin. Her other things could stay. The girls would probably go through them and choose what they wanted.

  She only wanted her phone and some money she had hidden there. At the time, she thought that it was unwise to put money in the locker, but now she was extremely happy that she had because she didn't have any on her.

  She put the cash in her wallet, took a deep breath, and headed out to the passageway. From the stage to the passageway was a mural painting of several girls dancing on poles. All of their expressions had a seductive look but behind their eyes were empty. It was as if the painter had some insight into the girls' psyche.

  Cathy would not miss seeing this particular painting. She entered the large club area where there was a midnight special going on. This is where select girls completely removed their clothes and wound themselves around the poles in sexually suggestive positions. It was so erotic that Nanjo had forbidden her from doing it.

  All eyes were on the stage as the girls danced. Nobody was really paying any attention to a girl in clothes at this point.

  She looked around for Natty. He was at the bar in the corner, talking to one of Nanjo's Columbian friends. He hadn't seen her as she walked swiftly to the door. The doorman opened it for her without question.

  She walked out onto the club grounds where there was a small crowd around the jerk-chicken shack. She casually walked past them as well, feeling elated. Few people would recognize her without the wig and makeup.

  The security barely glanced at her as she walked past the stop barrier. "There was a white van across the road," as Natasha had said. She walked up to it, a tingling of fear in her heart. What if this was a setup?

  The side door opened as she passed, and a hand grabbed her and hauled her into the dark interior.

  Chapter Ten

  "Let me go!" Cathy squealed and struggled against the hand that was over her mouth.

  The hand tightened, and a voice said to her quietly, "I am detective Jamal Cooper. I am going to let you go, but you have to be quiet. Natasha told us that you wanted to leave the night club."

  Cathy nodded, and only relaxed when a light was switched on. The van's interior was filled with surveillance equipment. At least that's what she assumed they were. Small television sets were monitoring what was going on in Nanjo's club. She could also hear conversations. Jamal was the only one in the back, but she could see that there was one other guy in the driver’s seat.

  He turned around and waved to her. There was a heavy mesh separating the back of the van from the front, so she couldn't see the guy clearly.

  "Is Natasha working with you?" Cathy asked. In her feverish bid to run away she had not thought of asking the relevant questions, like how Natasha, an ordinary cleaner, could have so easily arranged for her to escape without hesitation.

  "Yes," Jamal said, grinning. He had a straight face, long aquiline nose and was of light complexion. His eyes looked at her appreciatively. "It's a good move, getting away from Nanjo."

  "Er...thanks," Cathy said, "I was thinking of staying with Natasha till Monday."

  "Harry will take you there," Jamal said, glancing at his watch. "He drops Natasha home."

  "No, not Harry!" Cathy shook her head. "Harry works for Nanjo. I have to get out of here."

  "And go where?" Jamal asked. "The Pegasus? That's the first place that Nanjo will look for you when he finds out you are missing."

  "How did you..." Cathy shook her head. "Are you saying that Harry is also working with you guys?"

  Jamal inclined his head.

  "And you know about Adrian?"

  Jamal nodded.

  "So Natasha is like some kind of undercover cop?"

  "Yes," Jamal said, "She is also four years older than you."

  "But...but...that's impossible she's an old woman."

  Jamal chuckled. "Makeup—courtesy of Gail. She's the best make up artist that we have in the narcotics division of the Police Force. Of course she doubles as a mortician, so sometimes the makeup is hit or miss for the living."

  "I can't believe this," Cathy mumbled. "So you guys are after Nanjo?"

  "Yes, and also Juan Feliz. They are wanted in three continents. We thought we'd get them first."

  "I can't say that I am going to be sorry to see Nanjo arrested and charged. I hope you guys really get him this time."

  Jamal nodded. "We'll get him. That black eye you have is really telling." Jamal looked at her intently. "You are still pretty though."

  "Thanks," Cathy said shyly.

  "Why do you work as a stripper?" Jamal asked curiously." All of us in the team have been asking the same question."

  Cathy shrugged. "I had a sick child, no money, and was desperate. My grandmother, who is not too high on morals heard about the job. Showed my picture to Nanjo and he hired me the same day. I had a lot of alcohol in those early days… to forget."

  Jamal nodded. "Seems like the same story all the time. Prostitutes and strippers are never happy with their jobs and yet they do it."

  "Please don't lump me with prostitutes," Cathy said fiercely. "I danced around a pole, not sleep around with men. Get that! In fact, I have only slept with two. That's a pretty low number, compared to other women who are doctors, lawyers… whatever."

  "My apologies," Jamal said, holding up his hand. He went to the bank of equipment on the other side of the van. "Your boyfriend is having a private party."

  "Not my boyfriend anymore," Cathy said, still smarting from the fact that he had called her a prostitute, maybe because it rang close to the truth. She had sex with Nanjo for what she could get. At the time, she had thought that it was a fair exchange but technically it was prostitution, she had to admit to herself.

  "Tell me about Leon 'Natty' Carter," Jamal said lightly.

  "He is Nanjo's main bodyguard." Cathy shrugged. "He's very protective of him. I think Natty would do anything for him. I really don't know anything much about him."

  Jamal nodded.

  "Can I call Adrian?" Cat
hy asked after Jamal turned away and was fiddling with the equipment.

  "Sure," Jamal said, "but only when you reach Natasha's."

  *****

  Nanjo was seething mad. Cat hadn't come to the private party that he was hosting. After searching for her in the club, he couldn't find her. He had questioned every member of his staff, but nobody had seen her.

  She had disappeared into thin air. That was seven hours ago. He could see the morning sunlight trying to peep through the heavy drapes in his office. He stared at it incredulously.

  How could she? Nanjo raged. He hadn't slept the night before; he smelled like tobacco and alcohol, and his eyes were gritty. He was not going to rest until he found her though. No rest. He'd find her and he'd strangle her, maybe after he had sex with her and showed her who was boss. A little part of him felt a deep sadness that she had left him, though, a sadness that made him angry and left his emotions feeling bruised.

  "Where could she go?" Natty asked in bewilderment. She left everything behind: her car, her credit cards, everything.

  "She's gone to that guy, Adrian Bancroft!" Nanjo said, growling deep in his throat. "She claimed that she loved him."

  Natty shrugged. "So, let her go."

  "No!" Nanjo shouted. It was a hoarse, wounded shout. "She's mine!"

  "So when you find her. What are you going to do to her, Nanjo? I like Cat. Leave her alone."

  "Never!" Nanjo's pacing got frenetic. "I am never going to leave Cat alone."

  Natty snorted. "She's just a girl. Like any other."

  Nanjo breathed out hard. "I was going to wife her… settle down… stop her from working at the club… make her respectable, you know. Now, that is out of the question. I am going to make her regret that she wasn't loyal! Where's Banga?"