No Escape

by Heather Lowell

  “Precocious little jerk,” Tessa said.

  “He left high school without graduating, and by the time he was eighteen Ricky was head gofer for a two-bit mobster and pimp in Jersey. He worked in a brothel in the city that catered to middle-class yuppies. He was apparently well-known for trying to learn his manners from the lunch hour customers—mostly businessmen and art students.”

  “Because johns make such good role models, right?”

  Luke shrugged. “If you had grown up surrounded by the projects, these customers probably would have looked like the height of sophistication. And Ricky didn’t lack for ambition. By the time he was in his thirties, he was a midlevel employee being groomed for bigger things. But Ricky got greedy—either that or he has a hell of an instinct for survival.”

  “He cashed out of the game just in time?” Tessa guessed.

  “Not quite. More like he had help ending the game for his employers—help from the Feds. Ricky turned federal witness and sold out his whole operation in exchange for immunity.”

  “Not something that’s good for your health.”

  “No, which is why when the federal investigation got hung up on some legal issues, Ricky went to a rival boss and sold out his family to the competitors instead. He was probably hoping there would be no one left alive to hunt him down and ice him.”

  “Nice guy.”

  “Oh, yeah, he’s a peach. Part of his deal with the rival clan was seed money to start up another operation as far away as possible. That turned out to be L.A. He started with a small bar and has been steadily growing his business since he arrived a few years ago,” Luke said.

  “How did he go from a small bar to the Club Red empire?”

  “That’s the beauty of capitalism, Swiss. Ricky moved from a hole-in-the-wall operation with a liquor license to exotic dancing, and from there to a chic, members-only gentlemen’s club involved with prostitution and drugs. Somehow during the transition, he was able to attract the wild child Hollywood crowd and enough celebrity athletes to turn his club into a popular place to hang out.”

  “I wonder if these people know what their money supports,” Tessa mused.

  “I don’t see how they could miss it. Guys like Sledge Aiken get treated to women, food, and drugs on the house. He’s helped turn Ricky’s operation into a business that potentially turns over millions each year.”

  “The wages of sin have gone up.”

  “Yeah, and the operation is expanding almost quarterly. Ricky Hedges has purchased numerous other properties in California, and sources told me he’s also applied for casino licenses in Reno and Las Vegas.”

  “He has to be getting help from Mafia friends or colleagues. You can’t swing a cat in Vegas without hitting something that has an Italian last name.”

  Luke snickered. “I agree his Mafia ties are probably deepening. And it seems like Ricky has lots of friends in lots of places. Most of them are involved with Club Red in one way or another—like Jerry.”

  “Have you found a concrete link between him and Ricky yet—something beyond talk and rumor?”

  “No. But Jerry moved here from New York a year ago, and that’s when he started hanging out at Club Red. We just need to keep digging to see if he had any earlier ties to Ricky’s East Coast operations, or anything that we can trace back to the mob. It was shortly after Jerry relocated here that the club started to become hot property—probably because of all the after-game parties and sports functions that were held there. I can’t believe Jerry isn’t involved in that given his background.”

  “And since Ricky is apparently a control-freak owner, it would be unlikely that he’s not wired in to this aspect of his venue as well,” Tessa said. “It all keeps coming back to Club Red.”

  “Yeah. That’s where Sledge hangs out, it’s where Kelly was working, it’s where Jerry spends most of his time. It’s the center of this case.”

  “I’m afraid it goes much deeper than shady club escapades,” Tessa said in a low voice. “What kind of people would put a girl like Kelly to work as an escort or—or worse?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t found anything on a Kelly Martin in national missing persons databases yet. So we’ll have to pull all the missing girls named “Kelly” who are in their teens and check out each one. That’s going to take a while, assuming Kelly is even her name.”

  “It is. I told you, the polygraph for that part of the interview showed no evasion or lying,” Tessa said.

  “I hope so. Because every lie she’s told is just another obstacle to jump over. It’s a waste of our time. And that is one thing that could be running out for her,” Luke said.

  “We have to keep pushing. I feel like this is an onion, and every time we manage to peel back a layer we find another one.” She gave a wobbly smile. “All that we have to show for it is a bad smell and tears.”

  “Don’t lose faith, Swiss. I’m working as fast as I can.”

  She took the comforting hand he offered her and tried to ignore the delicate shiver of awareness she felt when he wrapped his warm fingers around her chilled ones.

  “I know you’re doing your best. We all are,” she said.

  It would have to be enough.

  Chapter 23

  Santa Monica, California

  Monday afternoon, March 8

  The following afternoon, Tessa was once again seated at her makeshift desk in Luke’s office. There were too many distractions in her own building, with coworkers popping their heads in to socialize and ask questions about the cases she’d transferred to them. So she had set up a temporary workstation inside Luke’s company and was making herself at home there.

  That way, they would cut down on the commute and any time needed for updates. Since they were together all day, nothing happened to one that the other wasn’t aware of immediately.

  While the arrangement did nothing for her nerves or her unwilling awareness of the chemistry building between the two of them, it was benefiting the case. And that was reason enough to continue working six feet away from Luke Novak.

  Besides, Tessa rationalized to herself, it was obvious that her office at work wasn’t a safe place to keep important documents anymore. Luke had been pushing her to shift to his building since he’d heard about the break-in at her office. Frankly, he’d worn her down.

  Straightening the largest of her stacks of file folders, Tessa caught herself humming. Despite the stress of the last few weeks, she was more focused than she’d been in a long time. She was working hard on an important case that was going to make a difference in someone’s life. That knowledge gave her the strength to get up after only a few hours of sleep and the will to keep pushing against the wall of bureaucracy she was running into on a daily basis.

  “I never would have guessed you were a slob by looking at you,” Luke said from across the room.

  Tessa smiled complacently. “I know where everything is.”

  Her cell phone rang, cutting off any reply Luke might have made. Still smiling, Tessa pulled her phone out of the charger and answered.

  “This is Kelly.” The voice was tense and low, so that Tessa had a hard time hearing the girl.

  “Are you all right?” Tessa’s voice was sharp with worry, bringing Luke out of his chair and over to her desk. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at the bus station. I don’t have much time to talk, just wanted to tell you that I’m okay, and not to worry.”

  “You disappeared from Three Sisters, and I haven’t heard a thing from you since—of course I’m worried.”

  “I didn’t disappear. I just got tired of the place, so I called my cousin to come get me,” Kelly said.

  “I know Jerry Kravitz isn’t your cousin. What kind of hold does he have on you?”

  There was a long pause. “Look, I’m sorry for causing any trouble. I got mad at Jerry, and that’s why I made up the story about Sledge. Now I just want things to calm down so I can go back to my life.”

  “What, as a stripper
? Or maybe even a prostitute?” Tessa asked, ignoring the audible and pain-filled breath Kelly took. “We know all about what’s going on at Club Red. I’m not giving up until you’re out of that situation and safely back home.”

  Kelly was silent for so long that Tessa was afraid she’d hung up. “What’s your damage, lady?” There were angry tears in the girl’s voice now, and a stubborn determination that anyone familiar with teenagers knew meant trouble. “You’re not my mother, you’re not even my friend. Why can’t you leave me alone?”

  “Prove to me that you’re okay. Meet me for coffee and let me see for myself,” Tessa said.

  “No way. You’re crazy, like, obsessed or something. What I do with my life is none of your business. You’ll only make things harder for me if you keep trying to butt in where you’re not wanted.”

  “Kelly, if you’re being pressured into doing this, I can help—”

  “God, listen to yourself. You’re so prissy, you don’t even have a boyfriend. How would you understand? Why don’t you just get a life and leave me alone?” Kelly’s voice rose on the last word, then she hung up.

  Tessa closed her cell phone with shaking fingers. Up until now, she’d been sure Kelly was being manipulated in some way. But the girl’s words before hanging up had been cruel and calculated. Anyone who could aim that well with verbal jabs didn’t win too many points in the sweet and innocent department.

  “What did she say, Swiss?” Luke squatted in front of her chair and took her cold hands in his. He could see by her expression that the conversation hadn’t been pleasant.

  “She said she was fine,” Tessa said. “She told me to leave her alone.”

  “Where was she calling from?” Luke took her phone and scrolled through menus to pull up the number of the last caller.

  “She said she was at the bus station. I guess she’s going home.”

  “Let’s run a check on the number,” Luke said. He beeped MacBeth and gave him the information, then returned to Tessa’s desk. “I’m betting it won’t be from the bus station. What else did she tell you?” Luke asked.

  Tessa looked up at him with shiny eyes. “She said to get a life and leave her alone. She made it sound like I was an obsessed stalker or something. Oh, and she seems to think I need a boyfriend to take my mind off her situation.”

  “What was going on beneath the words?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What was her tone of voice? Did it sound like she was alone? Could someone have been there pushing Kelly’s buttons?” Luke asked.

  “Her voice sounded…strained. And I think she started crying after I mentioned prostitution. I could tell she was upset that I knew.”

  “Okay, so that doesn’t make sense with what she’s saying, does it? If she were happy with the situation and wanted to be left alone to turn tricks, I’m willing to bet she’d give you some story about loving sex, how the money is great, stuff like that.”

  Tessa swallowed around the gravel in her throat. “I read about that in some of the articles on teen prostitutes. That they tell themselves it’s a glamorous life, and they are in control of their bodies.”

  “Did Kelly give you any of that attitude?” Luke prodded.

  “No. She sounded tired. She got angry at the end, but it was more a hurt kind of angry than rebellious. At least that’s my impression—maybe I’m being blinded by my emotions. She certainly knew how to stick the knife in my back.”

  “Don’t give up on her, Swiss. She may have been coached. You have to trust your instincts and what they tell you.”

  “My instincts tell me to go get Kelly right now, wherever she is. But my brain says that at best I may have pushed her back into a very difficult situation.”

  “And at worst?”

  “I may have put her in real danger,” Tessa said.

  “The only way to find out is to keep pushing. We’ll trace the number she called from, if possible. And we’ll keep looking for answers,” Luke said. He would have promised to do anything to put the color back in Tessa’s cheeks.

  “Even if they’re not what we want to hear?”

  “Sometimes those are the most important answers of all.”

  Chapter 24

  Los Angeles, California

  Thursday afternoon, March 11

  “Quit whining,” Luke said. “I’m tired of talking to law enforcement agencies, too. But the information has been good enough that we can’t walk away.”

  “Yeah, but when are we going to stop gathering information and actually do something with it?” Tessa grumbled.

  “Have you been reading my cue cards? I’m supposed to be the one advocating action over analysis,” Luke teased.

  “I’m beginning to think that you’re a sheep in wolf’s clothing—you talk like a cowboy, but underneath you’re as conservative as an underwriter.”

  Luke chuckled. “Just don’t blow my cover with McKeltie and the FBI. He believes I’m one of the lucky ones who got out. In fact, I think he’s angling for a job, which is why he’s willing to share information with us off the record.”

  He held the door of the Federal Building open and escorted Tessa through security and across the lobby. They were shown up to the office of Frank McKeltie, a senior Special Agent with the FBI. Luke’s networking over the previous few days had turned up the fact that McKeltie had worked part-time on the task force investigating Club Red. He had recently been reassigned to take a leading role in another case, but still had up-to-date information on the FBI’s progress against Ricky Hedges.

  The fact that McKeltie was reaching early retirement age and looking to get out of the Bureau gave Luke reason to hope he’d be extremely helpful. He wasn’t above dangling a Novak International job in front of McKeltie to encourage that spirit of cooperation. That prospect, combined with the knowledge that Tessa was Paul Jacobi’s daughter, should help smooth any issues that might arise from an FBI agent sharing information with others not officially involved with the investigation.

  Luke greeted McKeltie and introduced Tessa. In turn, they were introduced to a female FBI agent who specialized in sex crime investigations, including interstate prostitution rings and teenage runaways.

  “I asked Agent Beals to sit in on the discussion,” McKeltie said. “Once I heard that you were looking at the potential for teenage girls being involved in Club Red operations, I figured she’d be the best resource.”

  Luke nodded and turned to Tessa. “It’s your show. Where do you want to begin?”

  Tessa still had trouble adjusting to the fact that Luke didn’t mind turning the running of these interviews over to her. Most men—hell most everyone—she’d ever worked with had issues of territory, seniority, and good old-fashioned work-place competition. That meant that in nearly every case Tessa had worked with colleagues, she’d spent at least as much energy fighting her own team as working to solve the case.

  The fact that Luke chose to sit back and play second fiddle from time to time was refreshing. Especially when he was actually more qualified and experienced than anyone she’d ever worked with except Ed. It spoke to his supreme self-confidence that he readily handed over the lead to her without worrying what others would think of him.

  Unfortunately, she had always found confidence extremely attractive.

  But there were enough potential land mines in Kelly’s case to keep Tessa occupied. She shouldn’t borrow trouble by continuing to think things like that about Luke Novak.

  Aware that everyone was waiting for her response, Tessa cleared her throat. “I wanted to thank you for your time. While we aren’t sure if our investigation into Kelly Martin’s complaints is going to overlap the work of the task force, I think it would be wise to coordinate our efforts where possible. I’d hate to jeopardize an ongoing investigation of the FBI by pursuing a local case.”

  Luke swallowed a grin at Tessa’s sincere tone. Right now, she was playing the self-deprecating novice, and Frank McKeltie was lapping it up. The FBI always like
d to think that its investigations were more important than local law enforcement’s because the Bureau only dealt with serious federal crimes. Tessa was delicately acknowledging the tensions that existed between federal and local authorities on joint investigations, and at the same time letting the Feds know she wouldn’t dream of getting involved in their big, important case.

  Luke didn’t believe it for a second. But it made for a good icebreaker, and Tessa knew it.

  He wondered who had given her the idea that she somehow wasn’t capable of pulling her own weight, that her observations weren’t as worthy of attention as those of other team members. He knew better. While she lacked experience in some aspects of criminal investigations, she learned quickly and never made the same mistake twice. And her passionate dedication to the victim kept her going long after most would have quit. He couldn’t ask for more in a partner.

  Plus her inexperienced prosecutor act tended to put other people off guard, as if they felt she offered no threat or competition to them. That would be very useful as he and Tessa made their way through the law enforcement agencies investigating Ricky Hedges.

  She continued, “It would be helpful for us to understand what activities at Club Red are under investigation, and what you think the larger ramifications might be.”

  McKeltie opened a file in front of him. “I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you the relationship between organized crime and the high-end food service and entertainment industry here in LA.”

  Tessa interrupted with a slight laugh. “I think it would be better to assume that I don’t know anything. That way you can explain it to me from your point of view.” She hesitated, wondering if she’d laid it on too thick. But if she had, McKeltie didn’t seem to care.

  “The strip clubs, nightclubs, bars, and restaurants are a prime Mafia target for a couple of reasons. First of all, they need a lot of contract services—linens, dishwashing, garbage pickup, recycling, liquor, cigarettes—and some Mafia families are heavily involved in the provision of these services. Then there are the illegal services that we believe are offered at establishments like Club Red. The Mafia wants a cut of this action as well, both in the supply and sale. This includes prostitution, drug use, extortion, credit card abuse, and so on.”