Never Look Back (14 page)

"Austin, Texas. You name is Abigail Madison, and you manage a gift shop called Charmed and have one assistant."

Dana raised her eyebrow. "That sounds more like my type of job."

U.S. Marshall Collins handed her a bag. "I got you better clothes, a cinnamon shade of dye, and a map of Austin."

Dana peered inside and grinned at the retro orange shirt. "Pretty neat."

"And your social security, driver's license, and birth certificate."

"No shit. I should have been an actress so this game of charades would be easier for me."

"Oh, and you're very much single and live in the city. The shop is five minutes away."

"How very thoughtful of you, U.S. Marshall Collins." Dana's thoughts lingered on Jake and Molly. By now, they were up and wondering where she could be. And Sarah Winters waiting for her to show up so she could try on her new outfits. The students at the library who needed to have books checked out. Would she be missed? Did she make a difference in the few months that she lived there?

She eyed U.S. Marshall Collins, sleek as usual, doing his job as he promised, then imagined how difficult his job entailed protecting the innocent from the wicked. How many casualties suffered from all this? Dana promised herself she will never be one of them. Convinced she had to find Vladimir, and when Dana did, she would kill him.

Vladimir sat at his dining table with seven other Russian men and rubbed his clean-shaven chin. "Dana Simmons escaped again."

"I don't know why you spend all your energy on this woman," Alex, a tall man with a scruffy beard said. "Business is doing well. We have doubled our viewers every month and raking in so much dough."

Vladimir stood and circled the table. "I need you to find the lady. Nobody is to question me why. I expect to hear feedback no later than Friday."

The men bowed their head in silence.

"You're free to go," Vladimir added.

They dashed out from their seats and exited the premises while Vladimir retreated to his bedroom. Vladimir turned his queen-sized bed upside down to access his hidden stash of cash. After grabbing an overnight bag from his closet, he dumped the cash and clothes inside.

Now inside the bathroom, he applied shaving cream on his face, shaved. and washed his face. Gel in hands, he ran his fingers through his hair. Pretending to hold a gun, Vladimir pointed toward the mirror then sky high, blowing air from his mouth.

Vladimir obtained daily reports about Marcy, but never had the courage to face here. He still considered her as the woman who stole the affection he longed from his father. She had been the apple of his father's eye. Even after years of her disappearance, his father still longed for her. She had destroyed his mother's life, his life, and she needed to pay for all she'd done.

***

Stacy Kestav's hope withered as, day in and out, she had been drugged, abused, and raped in front of the camera. Forced to pretend that she enjoyed the act despite losing her dignity, Stacy had enough. There were days when she could no longer cry, her heart too hollow from all the buried pain.

A man with gentle eyes unlocked her cell and took her hand. She had never seen this man before.

Yesterday she had been forced to act as a nun. Maybe today she'll be a nurse and the thought sickened her.

They climbed the stairs. The man unlocked the door and led her in a bedroom with no windows.

A beautiful woman with blond hair stood and straightened her skirt.

Oh no. He's one of those who likes to watch two women make out.

Removing her glasses, the woman asked, "Vladimir?"

He bowed his head. "She'll be rooming with you now." then left them and locked the door from the outside.

***

Vladimir dusted his hands. He didn't take one step away from the door when Constantine approached him. "What the hell are you doing putting Stacy with Marcy? Are you out of your mind?"

"Stacy's been through a lot. She doesn't need to be abused anymore."

"Somebody has a heart. You'd be surprised to know she's one of the favorites."

Vladimir marched down the hallway. "Look, Constantine, please stop questioning my decisions. You're still under my payroll and I can−"

"Yeah, boss me around like your father did to you. I'm still a Marcovic, you know that. You don't have to be a dick like your dad."

Whipping around, Vladimir held him on the throat. "Don't you ever tell me I'm like my father." He spat on his face. "I'm not." Releasing his hand, he drew in a breath and left Constantine gasping for air.

***

Stacy eyed the other woman and tucked a strand of her hair around her ear. "I'm Stacy Kestav."

The woman shook her hand giving her a tender look. "Marcy Simmons. Take a seat." She gestured toward the chair.

"I don't understand, why did they transfer me to this room?" Stacy took a seat opposite Marcy.

"When I was your age, I was a singer and worked in a club owned by Anton Marcovic. Little did I know that Anton was the leader of a Russian mob involved in human trafficking."

"Yes, they promised this Russian teens a better life here," Stacy chimed in. "I wonder how many of them there are."

"More than you can imagine," Marcy said. "Anton appeared to be a charming man. He gave me everything I ever wanted." Marcy bowed down. "The young and naive me agreed to be his mistress, not realizing the stakes involved."

Stacy listened intently not knowing anymore who to trust.

Marcy paced the room. "I thought he only had the restaurant business until one day I caught him." She shook her head. "I was able to escape, and ever since, my life has never been the same."

"But they found you," Stacy said.

Marcy nodded "Although Anton is gone, he still has a son, Vladimir."

Stacy raised her eyebrows. "The man who brought me here to your room?"

     "He wants to find my daughter but when he does, he'll kill us both."

Stacy covered her face. All her dreams of going to Paris were crushed like a broken vase.

***

A couple of weeks had passed and Dana had settled in her new apartment and adapted to the  routine of her new job. She loved the shop, and this particular morning, arranging the display window and dressing up the mannequin in a swimsuit in time for the summer season lifted her spirits. She pasted straw hats with sunglasses on the pane and added purses as well.

"Wow," her tall, skinny and blond assistant, Courtney Wales appeared from behind. "You're good."

Her cheeks flushed as she titled her head. "Thank you."

Courtney hanged swimsuits on a rack. "I'm serious." She popped her gum. "The lady who used to work here didn't care
shit
about how the shop looked. She just sat behind the counter and chatted on Facebook."

Dana shrugged. "So why didn't you manage this shop?"

Courtney swayed her head from side to side. "'Cuz this ain't my career. I want to be a model." Marching around the shop, she added. "I wanna walk down the runway and grace every fashion magazine." Then blew a bubble, and it popped.

Nodding, Dana arranged the purses.

"There's a lot of talent here in Austin, you know," she added, removing a fashion magazine from the rack.

"I have yet to explore Austin."

Courtney flipped through the pages of
Vogue
magazine and pointed to a woman posing for Revlon makeup. "I wanna be just like her."

Dana dropped the tray of scarves as she spotted her face on the magazine. She remembered the day of her pictorial. The hair stylist had applied too many chemicals on her hair and the makeup artist had to airbrush her look. At the end of the day, they must have taken more than a hundred photos to get the right look. Studying at the situation now, Dana didn't think she could still do that. "Um, yeah, she looks beautiful."

"Beautiful?" Courtney bent down to pick up the tray and positioned it correctly. "She's drop dead gorgeous. I can imagine what it must be like for Dana Simmons. I would trade one day of my life to be her."

Dana cursed under her breath.
No, you don't.

Courtney continued to blabber on as she perused the magazine.

She glanced at her watch. "We have five minutes before the crowd'll start blazing in."

After returning the magazine inside the rack, Courtney tidied up the shop and approached the counter. "You know you can be a model, too." She pulled out a stool and sat down, studying Dana from head to toe. "Why don't you come with me for an audition this Saturday?"

"Me?" Dana chuckled. "No thanks. Not my thing."

Courtney crossed her legs. "Why waste your good looks? I tell you, I'm grabbing the first gig that can get me to New York."

Dana spotted a customer outside and grinned, appreciating the distraction. "And here goes our day."

***

That evening, after retouching her roots, Dana filed her nails while watching TV. At this time in Bluewater Acres, she would have been tucking Molly to sleep and reading her a bedtime story. Jake would be brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. It had been almost six months since her life was normal since that walk she took in Central Park. Fingering her locket, she missed her parents even more.

Would Vladimir have come straight to her Manhattan apartment had she not taken a stroll along Central park that day? Why didn't he just kill her and her mother? What did he want from her? Austin may be a bustling city and she appreciated the people who came in her shop were mostly tourists and transients, but she only had to stay there because of Vladimir. Dana enjoyed the food and the friendly people, but refused to get attached. She had never felt so alone, but at least, at home, she could be herself. Dana rose and approached her closet. Brushing her fingers on her black dress, she sighed. It's a Saturday night.
From her apartment, she often saw people flocking in and out of the Scarlet Lounge. Why not? Why can't she go?

In no time, she changed into her cocktail dress and put on her high heels. Dana crossed the street and entered the bar. She drew in the smoke in her lungs, strode to the empty corner table and slipped into the seat. When was the last time she got all dressed up for a night like this?

A couple at the next table flirted with each other. In the past, she used to make heads turn, but nobody seemed to be paying attention to her with her glasses and hair tied in a bow. U.S. Marshall Collins was right—a new hairstyle with a different shade could change the way you looked. Match it with glasses, and nobody would even take a second look.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted boisterous, tipsy women trying hard to attract the single men in the bar. The waiter brought her a martini, and she took one gulp. Music began to go full swing, and the patrons leaped to their feet to dance. Dana ordered one more drink until she told herself, she'd rather be at home in her pajamas watching TV.

***

With two women at his side, Vladimir blew out smoke from his Cuban cigar, gazing at the full moon of his Miami penthouse.

The blond escort he paid tiptoed to the balcony and removed her lingerie. “Can they see me from up here?” She giggled.

The brunette followed her and did the same thing. Then the two of them danced and touched each other as Vladimir watched.

I'm getting tired of this shit!
Vladimir’s cell phone vibrated. He excused and opened the sliding door to enter his unit. “Yep.”

“They spotted her at the Scarlet Lounge in Austin.” A raspy voice filtered over the line.

“Austin?” He eyed his watch. “Can you book me on the next flight?”

“Already did. Your plane leaves at six in the morning.”

"Great, I owe you one," Vladimir said grabbing his keys.

***

The morning after, Dana removed the new stocks of soap and lotion and displayed it on the shelf.

“That smells so good.” Courtney carried over two cups of coffee. “I got this for us.”

“Oh, thank you. Very thoughtful of you.”

“Guess what?” She set the cups on the counter. “I auditioned for the modeling gig, and I got a call this morning that they want me to come back for more pictorials.”

“That’s great news.” Her eyes widened.

“I know.” Courtney drummed her fingers on the counter then straightened her skirt. “It’s been a lifetime dream of mine. I want to travel the world, buy all the
Chanel
purses, and hob nob with the rich and famous. I’m not getting stuck in this shop. Oops.” She covered her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It’s okay.” Dana emptied the boxes. “We all have different dreams.”

“I’ve been telling you all about my goals, and you’ve been so quiet. C'mon, share with me.”

Dana didn’t know what to say, so she forced a smile. “I’m going to shove these boxes in the dumpster outside.”

“Oh, sure.”

When Dana returned, customers flooded in all the way to closing time. Dana straightened the purses at the left back corner. Courtney counted the money from the cash register when a clean-shaven man with hair gelled to the side entered the shop, his gaze fixated on the charmed bracelets near the counter.