Authors: Heather Lowell
“I remember the name. Is that a nightclub?” Tessa asked.
Luke hesitated. “Sort of. I had to look into it, since I’d only heard the place mentioned once in the past. Club Red is billed as a ‘gentleman’s club’ but is zoned for food, liquor, and adult entertainment. According to people I’ve talked to, it’s part sports bar, part dinner club, part strip joint. The place is ultraexclusive. People are invited to become members, and the club itself sits on a private property spread over several acres. Imagine Hugh Heffner’s Playboy Mansion with an on-site nightclub and strip joint.”
“And Kelly worked in that particular club? She’s only eighteen,” Tessa said.
“It would easily explain how she met Aiken,” Luke said.
“Because he hangs out there a lot?”
“It’s his favorite place to go clubbing, according to Hollywood gossip. In fact, lots of star athletes and celebrities are members of Club Red. They can get together and not be worried about the being stalked by the press or having their stories sold to the tabloids, since each member has a stake in keeping things exclusive and private,” Luke said, hating to watch the
expressions of fear and disappointment cross Tessa’s face.
“Listen to me, Swiss. All I’m saying is Kelly was known to associate with Aiken, starting up to a month before she was assaulted. He hangs out at various LA nightclubs every night of the week, according to a variety of sources that MacBeth talked to. Many popular nightclubs are owned by the Mafia, or at the very least pay them protection money—I know that from my days with the sheriff’s department, and I doubt things have changed.”
“And Jasmine, the last person to see Kelly, works in a nightclub and has dated someone with mob ties. I’m not sure about the connection, but it doesn’t sound good,” Tessa said, suddenly chilled.
“Hey, I’m just thinking out loud here. It could be nothing. We’ll know more once we get a background check done on Jasmine and talk to her.”
“Where does Jerry Kravitz fit into all this?” Tessa asked.
“I don’t know. But I’m damn sure going to find out. Give me some time—I need to make a few calls and set up a meeting with an old informant of mine.”
“Hurry. I’m don’t even want to imagine what Kelly’s doing right now.”
But as Tessa wrapped her arms around herself and stared out the window, she could think of nothing else.
Los Angeles, California
Wednesday, March 3
“D
o you want me to drop you at work? Or do you want to go home?” Luke asked Tessa a few minutes later as he drove onto the freeway.
“Neither,” she said suddenly. “I want to go see Jerry Kravitz at home. Maybe Kelly is back at his place.”
“I’d already thought of that possibility. We can start there.”
“Even if he’s not home, we can talk to his neighbors and check whether anyone has seen Kelly recently,” Tessa said.
Luke drove to the only address he had been able to connect to Kravitz so far. The house was in a neighborhood of modest ranch homes from the sixties, though Luke knew they went for a premium price—at least half a million each. Real estate prices in Southern California were so inflated that as long as the home was physically sound and in a decent neighborhood, owners could demand and receive astronomical prices.
“I wonder where Jerry gets the money to afford the
monthly payment on a five-hundred-thousand-dollar mortgage,” Tessa said.
“I was just thinking the same thing. Partner,” Luke added with a slight smile.
“Limited partnership. You do credit cards, I do felony rape convictions.”
Luke brought the car to an abrupt halt at the curb. “This is more to me than a case of credit card fraud, okay? I have a real bad feeling about what’s going on—I think what we’re seeing is the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Given that, my priority is helping an eighteen-year-old kid out of a dangerous situation.”
Tessa bit her lip. “Mine, too.”
“Then we’re agreed. I’ll help you find Kelly, Swiss.” He took her chin and forced her eyes up to his. “I give you my word. It means as much to me as yours does to you.”
Tessa looked into the hazel swirl of his eyes and found herself believing him. As the moment stretched on, she started to wonder what else she was feeling from him. Determination, focus, strength—those she could handle.
It was the feeling that he was looking deeply into her and liking very much what he saw that made her want to open the car door and escape.
She pulled her chin free of his gentle grasp. “Then let’s get started. No one takes a victim out of protective custody on my watch.”
Luke had seen the pulse accelerate in the base of Tessa’s throat, along with the slight dilation of her blue-gray eyes. He figured his point had been made and started the car again. Without a word, he checked house numbers. Several minutes later he guided the car to the curb in front of Jerry Kravitz’s home.
“There’s no vehicle in the carport—or either neighbor’s driveway,” Tessa pointed out.
Luke nodded and cut the engine. “So we wait and get to know each other. Got a man in your life?”
Tessa gave an uncomfortable laugh. “This is how you pass time on a stakeout?”
“It’s not a stakeout, we’re waiting for the suspect to get back from the grocery store or something equally mundane. Besides, it beats the heck out of singing along to golden oldies on the radio.”
Her laugh was genuine this time. “I do eighties music myself.” She ignored his earlier question.
“I see I’ve got a shy one, so I’ll start. I’m not seeing anyone seriously right now. Building a business takes most of my time.”
“Hmmm.” Tessa looked out the window.
“I suppose you know I worked with the sheriff’s department for about twelve years.”
Curiosity got the better of her. “I’d heard. Why did you leave? Was it too structured for your renegade soul?” she teased.
“It was, but that’s not what drove me out. I was injured on duty and wasn’t allowed to resume my investigative role for an extended period of time. It wasn’t clear if they would ever let me go back, to be honest, so I took a leave of absence and drew up a business plan for Novak International.”
“Must have been a bad injury,” Tessa mused.
“A shotgun will do that do you.”
“You were shot?” Her head whipped around in surprise.
“Gutshot. But the range wasn’t great, so the surgeons were able to put the pieces back together again. The rehab took over a year, though. I don’t recommend it as a weight loss regimen.”
“How can you joke about it?” Tessa asked.
“Beats whining. Besides, it was the best thing that ever happened to me because it gave me the kick in the ass I needed to go out on my own. I’d been unhappy with my job for a long time because I felt I wasn’t helping people like I’d been trained to. I was pushing papers around to a chorus of ‘Yes, sirs,’ and I hated it. Just didn’t have a reason to do anything about it until I got shot.”
Tessa shook her head. “We’re very different. I mean, in a similar situation to you, I just throw myself more deeply into my work and try to find some satisfying aspect of it. That’s why I’m going after big cases like Kelly’s, to tell you the truth.”
“While I decided there was no point in sitting around watching the system grind up innocents like Kelly,” Luke said. And you, he thought, but didn’t say it out loud.
“We can help Kelly,” Tessa said.
“I know. But I doubt it will be with the methods you’re planning to use.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off.
“I don’t want to fight about it, Swiss. I just want your word that you’ll be open to alternatives if going after Kelly by the book doesn’t work out. I want to hear you say that she’s a bigger priority than the system and its rules.”
“Done,” she said without hesitation. “Just as I want your word that we’ll try playing by the rules first.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal. And we have ourselves a neighbor,” he added, looking at the car stopping at the driveway of the house next to Jerry Kravitz’s.
They both stepped out of Luke’s vehicle and approached the woman pulling shopping bags out of her backseat. Luke showed her his identification briefly, then asked if the neighbor had seen Jerry Kravitz recently.
She shaded her eyes with her hand. “He was out this morning washing and vacuuming his car. Then he left. I haven’t seen him since then. He’s usually gone most days and well into the night.”
“Did he have anyone with him? Maybe someone in the house?”
The woman shook her head. “He was alone. I guess the girl who was staying with him is gone,” she said, referring to Kelly. “I believe I talked to someone else about him recently. Some blond guy. One of your colleagues?”
Luke smiled at the woman and gave her his card. “Lots of people are interested in your neighbor. Please call the cellular number if you see the girl or Mr. Kravitz. And don’t mention this to anyone else, okay?”
“I won’t,” the woman promised. “This is like an episode of
Law and Order
or something.”
Luke waited until the woman had gone into her house before turning to Tessa. “I’m going to take a look around Jerry’s pad,” he said. “Why don’t you go back to the car. This will only take a minute.”
“Why can’t I go with you?” Tessa countered.
“Much as I would enjoy the view, were you planning on hopping his fence in your skirt and heels?” Luke pointed to her short business skirt and pumps.
Tessa thought for a moment. “Why don’t we ask the
Law and Order
fan if we can look over the fence from her backyard. That way we are obeying the letter of the law.”
“If not the spirit,” Luke muttered, and shook his head. “Fine, let’s go.”
Round one.
Tessa tried not to let her smugness at victory show in her smile.
A search of the Kravitz property from the neighbor’s yard didn’t provide any additional information. The curtains were open, and there was no activity inside. Luke and Tessa returned to his car and headed back downtown.
“So Jerry was up bright and early washing his car,” Tessa said musingly as she chewed on the cap of a pen. She sat up straight as she remembered something.
“When you did a background check on him, did you pull a vehicle registration?”
Luke took one hand off the steering wheel and flipped open his notebook. “He drives a Mercedes C230 coupe, registered with the DMV last year.”
“I’m not familiar with that model. But Sledge Aiken’s busybody neighbor saw a girl matching Kelly’s description
arriving at Aiken’s place multiple times in a Mercedes.” She looked through her own notes. “Here it is. A two-door, one of the cheap models.”
“That’s the C230. It’s an entry-level Mercedes.”
“Then I think we can safely assume Kelly was introduced to Sledge Aiken by our buddy Jerry,” Tessa said. She made additional notes in her book. “I wasn’t sure about that before. Now I want to talk to him even more.”
“We will. But while we’re waiting to pin him down, I want to talk to Jasmine and see what information she can add to the mix.”
“Why don’t we talk to her at work?” Tessa asked.
“Because I need to see an old contact first. He has a lot of firsthand information on the clubs, strip joints, and bars in town. I want to speak to him so we don’t walk into an interview with Jasmine unprepared.”
Tessa nodded her approval of the methodical approach. “When can you set up a meeting with your contact?”
“We’ll go tomorrow. I need to give him a heads-up today so he can ask around for us first.”
“And then we talk to Jasmine,” Tessa said.
Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day.
Los Angeles, California
Thursday morning, March 4
L
uke sat in the booth where he’d met Tessa for breakfast a couple of days earlier. She was running late and had sounded distracted when he’d called her on the cell phone an hour earlier.
It was a contrast to what he’d been afraid of finding. Actually, he was pleased at how well Tessa was handling the sudden disappearance of Kelly Martin. Given her emotional involvement with the case, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been upset and demanding faster action from him. But instead she’d maintained control and was working the case slowly and methodically.
It beat the hell out of him why he was going along with that, but so far it seemed to be going okay.
The café’s front door flew open, and the normally delicate jingle of the attached bells ended in a clatter as they came into contact with the wall. Tessa stalked over to the booth and threw her bag onto the bench seat before sliding in after it.
Luke didn’t say a word, just poured a mug of coffee and pushed the cup toward her.
“Lazy bastards,” Tessa said in between gulps. “They won’t file a missing persons report.”
“The police?”
“
Protect and Serve
, my ass. More like protect their next serving of doughnuts.”
“You know there’s a waiting period before Missing Persons can file the report.”
“Not in a kidnapping.” Tessa began, opening packet after packet of sugar to put in her coffee.
“We don’t have any proof of kidnapping,” Luke pointed out, then shut up when she pointed her spoon at him like a weapon.
“Don’t start with me. I’ve heard enough crap for one morning already.”
Luke smothered a grin at her tone. She was in a foul mood.
“Anyway, I talked to Ed today. He’s not willing to hit the panic button yet, but will treat Kelly’s disappearance as a possible case of foul play. It doesn’t change a lot how he and Ronnie will proceed, except to make them more concerned about her welfare,” Tessa said. “Also, he pulled the records for Jasmine Jones this morning. I can’t believe Three Sisters Shelter let her stay there with such a blatant alias.”
Luke shrugged. “What did he find?”
“Standard junkie arrests—possession of small amounts of heroin, prostitution, some tickets for solicitation from a couple years ago. She entered rehab several times and has been clean for eight months, according to her parole officer.”
“Did Ed fax you a picture of Jasmine?”
“Right here,” Tessa said. She pulled the sheet out of her bag.
“I’ll keep it—we may need to show it to my contact.”
“Who is this mysterious informant?” Tessa asked.
Her mood was improving as she talked with Luke, probably because she was able to tell herself that they were working toward finding Kelly. Banging her head against the wall
of blue the police had around them was fruitless and frustrating—not a good way for her to start the day.
She had been spoiled by her dealings with Ed and Ronnie, leading her to believe that all precincts were staffed by competent and concerned officers. That hadn’t proved to be the case today, when she’d called the police department that had jurisdiction over the area where Three Sisters Shelter was located.
“My informant’s name is Alexander King,” Luke said. “But he goes by Lex. He owns a small cigarette distribution business, primarily targeted to the vending machine market. He does most of the entertainment establishments in LA and Hollywood, including the clubs.”
“How does he get his information?”
“He’s tied into one of the small-time mob operations—the Ianelli Family, specifically.”
“Is that the one Jasmine’s boyfriend is involved with?”
“I don’t know for sure. That’s why I wanted to talk to Lex. How familiar are you with the local criminal organizations?” Luke asked.
“I don’t know anything about them,” Tessa said, stirring her coffee morosely. “Most of my previous cases have involved misdemeanors and lightweight felonies.”
“Here’s the Cliff’s Notes version. One of the most popular, time-honored traditions for the transplanted European Mafia organizations—mainly the Italians—is to get involved with cigarette and gasoline distribution, because of the high government tax rate on those commodities. With the Ianelli operation, the Family distributes the product and collects the tax from the retailer, then pockets the funds and gives Uncle Sam zilch. It’s an easy percentage for them, so it’s very lucrative.”
“That’s something the ATF would be involved in,” Tessa said.
“Among others. And with the focus now on terrorism and
weapons of mass destruction, small-time organizations like the Ianelli Family are operating pretty much without restrictions as long as they keep the volume low to medium. It will get to the point that their profits can’t be ignored, and the Feds will move in, but until then it’s a nice way to make a buck.”
“It doesn’t sound like a complicated operation.”
“It isn’t. A lot of times the cigarette and gas schemes are used to train young managers in the Family, or are turned entirely over to independents like Lex. Then the Family comes along and collects its cut of the profits, called a tribute, and everybody’s happy.”
“Can’t these operations be shut down, especially if everyone knows what’s going on?” Tessa asked.
“A lot of times there are too many jurisdictions involved because the goods are smuggled in from Mexico or elsewhere. It’s not unusual to have the ATF, FBI, local police or sheriff, US Customs and Border Patrol, State Attorney’s Office, US Postal Inspectors, and the Highway Patrol involved. Half the time, multiple agencies are investigating the same operation from different angles and have no idea of the work the others are doing.”
“That’s why there’s a new focus on multibranch task forces, right?”
“Exactly,” Luke said. “Unfortunately, with that many agencies, jurisdictions, individual agendas…you end up with a cluster fuck more often than not. So much for the system.”
Tessa shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s why I started Novak International. My focus is on the victim, and I don’t let the bureaucratic bullshit get in the way of that.”
“And you’ve been able to keep some of your old informants?”
“Hell, I’ve doubled the number. When you’re working with law enforcement, you’re not able to pay the informants
because that creates a conflict of interest if the information they provide ever gets to trial. As an independent, I’m able to use whatever carrot my informants respond to. The important thing is the information,” Luke said.
“I hope it’s good stuff.”
“With Lex, it usually is.”
Luke entered the slightly shabby Russian café and guided Tessa toward the table where Lex King was sitting. The two men shook hands, then Tessa was introduced, and everyone took a seat.
Lex passed them a menu. “I don’t recommend the
borscht
but you can’t go wrong with the
pilmeni
here.”
“Why meet in a Russian restaurant? I think we’re the only English speakers here…” Tessa’s voice trailed away as realization dawned.
“Exactly,” said Lex. “Sure as shit we’re not going to meet any Italians in this place.”
Luke hesitated. “Is that something we need to worry about?”
“If you’re digging into Miss Jasmine Jones, it might be.” Lex sat back as a waiter brought him a shot glass, a small bottle of vodka, and a teacup. A pot of steaming tea had already been placed on the table.
“What do you have on her?” Luke asked.
“Not much. Do you know how long it would take to check out all the potential aliases of strippers named Jasmine in Southern California?”
Tessa almost choked on a sip of water as she laughed. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. I guess there are lots of them out there.”
“Too many, and all with the same story. God damned depressing research.”
Luke interrupted. “But what did you find?”
“A stripper named Jasmine Jones used to turn tricks to support her heroin problem. Then she got pregnant by her
dog, a guy named Street.” Lex caught Tessa’s blank look. “Street was her pimp. He also used to collect a percentage from all the girls and dogs in the club for the Ianelli Family. In fact, the pimp boyfriend was the main point of contact for Family activity in that club.”
“What’s the name of this club?”
“Forget about it, the place burned down last year. Insurance scam. Now Street is working at a dance joint called Mr. Chubby’s.”
This time Tessa did choke. “What a name for a strip club.”
“The owners aren’t looking for subtle,” Luke said. “About Jasmine—what have you heard on her lately?”
Lex shot back the vodka in one swallow, then followed it with sweetened tea. “Nothing new on her in particular. Seems like she dances and keeps her nose clean. She doesn’t hang with Street anymore and doesn’t seem to have a pimp at all. If she’s turning tricks, she’s doing it freelance with low volume.”
“That doesn’t help us,” Luke said.
“This might—last few days the skin joints have been in an uproar. Management asking people to keep an eye out for some chick—I figure she must have stiffed her pimp or run off with the till, something like that. Then I talk to you, and I think maybe not, maybe this girl is into something else.”
“Who were they looking for?” Tessa asked.
“Can’t say. The manager caught me talking to the girls and sent them back to work. But the next club I go to, the girls are talking about the same thing. And the next one. Someone put the word out looking for this chick in bars and clubs all over town.”
“No one mentioned why they wanted to find this girl?” Luke asked.
“One dancer told me she thought the girl used to work at a Family location and was running her mouth about customers. That’s all I know.”
Tessa reached for the hot tea, suddenly needing its
warmth. “I sincerely hope she isn’t the same girl we’re looking for.”
“You don’t know the half of it, lady. Employees don’t screw over the Ianellis—or anyone who works for them. They’re small-time, but ambitious. And mean.”
Luke reached under the table and gripped Tessa’s thigh. She wasn’t sure if he was comforting her or telling her to be quiet, so she let him make the next move.
He leaned toward Lex and lowered his voice further. “What about Jerry Kravitz? Have you heard his name on your rounds.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s a player on the So Cal club scene, no doubt about it. He announces for the Arena Football League here, and uses that to get a foot in the door at hot spots and parties. He also plays up his relationships with other athletes and gets a lot of mileage out of them.”
“He moved to L.A. recently. What did he do before?” Luke asked.
“He came out West about a year ago, following several years of playing college football and tryouts for the NFL and CFL.”
“He wasn’t good enough to make it as a pro?”
“No, he probably could hold his own. But he couldn’t keep a position in the starting lineup because of ankle problems following a bad fracture. Finally, he went to arena ball because the level of play isn’t as demanding—but even that was too much. He moved to announcing and came here shortly after.”
“Does he have any links to the Mafia?” Luke asked bluntly.
“A couple of possibilities, don’t know as anyone has tried to prove it,” Lex said.
“Maybe we can connect the dots. What are they?”
Lex thought about it. “Back when he was in college, there were rumors that Kravitz was heavy in debt. Sports betting. And we’re talking debt to the kind of people who break ankles
rather than garnish your paychecks, if you know what I mean.”
Luke nodded. “What about since he arrived in LA?”
“Kravitz’s name is linked pretty exclusively with a joint that the Ianellis have a partnership in—it’s called Club Red.”
“The Ianelli Family runs it?” Tessa asked.
“No, a businessman and real estate developer runs the place—guy named Roderick Hedges. Goes by Ricky. But the rumor is the Ianellis collect a tribute, throw business in Ricky’s direction, and keep him supplied with drugs and other toys to keep the customers happy. They also provide security to keep the club grounds locked down tight—it would be a disaster if the media or a photographer from the tabloids got into the place. Believe me, no one messes with the Ianelli security guys.”
“Club Red is the only business venture with Ricky Hedges and the Ianellis?” Luke asked.
“No. The Family is also helping Ricky expand his operations into organized betting, prostitution, creative accounting, and the like.”
“How did he hook up with the Ianellis?” Luke asked.
“Can’t answer that. But from the outside looking in, I’d say Ricky and Club Red give the Family a legitimate front for some of their other business activities. And they keep Ricky’s cash flow liquid. Like a regular
symbionic
relationship, you know.”
Tessa cleared her throat at Lex’s gaffe. Luke shot her a look with twinkling eyes, then turned back to his informant. “What are the vices of Kravitz and company? Drugs? Women? Young boys?”
“They don’t seem to be his deal, no. I mean, he likes women and all. But it’s more his thing to score girls for the people around him. He’s like a fixer or a doer, you know? He gets stuff for others whose high profile might keep them from getting it for themselves.”
“Like Sledge Aiken,” Tessa said flatly.
“Exactly. He’s a regular in most of the high-end clubs I service, but he spends more time at Club Red than any other place.”
“And does he like young girls?” Tessa asked.
“Oh, yeah. He’s hooked up with most of the girls in his favorite clubs and is always looking for fresh meat. He likes variety—and he likes to brag. Club Red caters to guys like Aiken. They get him anything he wants so he keeps coming back, bringing other high roller members with him.”
Luke nodded. “That’s how the place gets established as a hip location—because there are celebs in there every night, yet the clientele is very exclusive.”
“Right. So the management wants to keep their VIP customers happy, and the Ianellis help them do that. Drugs, women, betting—it’s like a home away from home.”