Nik quickly returned to his phone and tried to call Maya back. She didn’t answer even after he let it ring numerous times. Not pleased with the lack of connection, he threw himself on the bed and decided he’d wait for ten minutes and then try again.
His glance fell on the safe in the closet and he went over to it. Kneeling down, he tried all kinds of combinations, hoping he’d luck out and hit on the right one, but of course it didn’t happen.
Suddenly a knock sounded and he heard a familiar voice call his name. Moving swiftly, he swung the door open just as Maya had lined up to kick it in. Before he knew what hit him, her foot struck his stomach, landing in his solar plexus. Since he’d guessed who was at the door, he hadn’t readied his muscles to take a hit and the shock almost floored him.
“What the hell!” Doubled over, he tried to catch his breath.
“Nik!” Maya lowered her gun and swept her gaze around the room behind him. “You’re okay…”
Feeling the pain ebb, he couldn’t help the glad smile when he saw the relief flood her face. Probably wasn’t a smart idea to goad a woman so close to hysterics.
Catching enough breath to be stupid, and with not enough brain proficiency to stop himself, he croaked, “I was until you showed up.”
“How the hell can you tease when I was sure they’d gotten to you?” Furious, anxiety riding her hard, she swung her arm toward his face, intending to plow her fist into his grin.
Of course, he stopped her. Gently, carefully, he gathered her into his arms so she couldn’t gouge his eyes out next. Finally, she slumped and let her head fall onto his chest.
“You jackass, why didn’t you call me back? I was frantic. When you hung up, I thought you’d called from Max’s apartment. I went there and had the uniforms follow me.” She shivered.
“Darlin’, I did call you. You never answered.” Cuddling her body, he gathered her still closer, wrapping his arms around her, taking care to gently imprison her just in case she erupted again. He lowered his cheek to rest on the top of her head and got off on the protective feeling that washed over him.
Her voice broke into his dreamy state. “It’s a hell of a mess!”
“What’s a hell of a mess? Are you talking about Max’s place?”
“Uh-huh. Someone broke in and trashed the joint. Ruined most of his clothes, smashed his TV. Shit, everything was… you know.”
Sad for his brother, Nik wished he’d been there to stop them. If he could have caught the trasher, maybe they’d have a clue as to who was behind the violence.
Approaching footsteps warned Nik that they had visitors. Instinctively, he guided Maya toward the back of the door. Positioning himself in front, he snatched Max’s gun from the desk.
Maya’s hand over his stopped him from further action. “Chill! It’s my backup.”
Sure enough, Henry Lassiter stepped gingerly into the room, his gun held in both hands by his side. When he saw Nik and Maya, both unharmed, he holstered his weapon and waved off the group following behind him. Turning to face Nik, his expression revealed that of a disgruntled friend. “Hey, Foster. Sounds like you’ve been having a lot of fun tonight.” He spoke with a distinct grouchiness of a person in a snit. “Wanna tell me why you stood me up earlier? And… why you’re staying in a hotel room instead of your apartment?”
Maya slid her hands in the back pockets of her pants and looked away, her body language clearly indicating she’d leave it up to him to answer the question.
“Yeah, well. I have a friend visiting from out of town. We had a few drinks and I decided to crash here for the night.”
“Probably a good idea. So where’s your friend now?”
Before Nik could form another lie, Julian walked in through the still partially opened door, waving a pizza. “Got it, man. They were still open. Hi, Maya. Sugar, you look delicious—as always.”
Frustration and lack of sleep kept Nik from being a happy camper. “Where the hell did you disappear to?”
Julian pointed to himself, pretending shock. “Why are you so pissed off with me? I just went to get us a pizza.”
Nik could smell the lie as much as he could smell the savory cheese and mushrooms. He couldn’t force Julian into being truthful if he didn’t intend to be, but he sure as hell didn’t like being played.
Losing patience while being interrogated by Lassiter, and then adding frustration as Maya left with him, Nik picked Julian up by the front of his shirt and let him dangle on the tips of his toes. Pushing his face within an inch of the other man’s, he let loose. “I want it all, what your business is here in New Orleans. How you know me and my brother. And why you keep showing up at the most opportune times.”
“Sorry, dude, I can’t tell you. Either you have to kill me, which you’d never do, or hurt me, which I’m a bit worried you’d enjoy. Or share a piece of that mouth-watering pizza with me before I starve to death.”
***
After gorging on three pieces, Nik wiped his mouth on the napkin and shook his head at the offer of the last slice. “Nope. I’m stuffed. Look, can you at least tell me if the joint where you mentioned finding the trafficked girls was called the Pink Pussycat?”
“As a matter of fact.”
“Quit playing games. Does that mean yes or no?”
“Yes. But I don’t think they’re using that place to stash the girls anymore. And before you try grilling me for their new location, I don’t have it.”
“Do you know where the girls disappeared to? The ones you released?”
“Some of them.”
“Will you just tell me?” Feeling slightly less irritated, Nik played the game with Julian, whose grin hinted at the enjoyment he felt from their banter.
“Soon. I just need to clear it with the boss.”
Interested in learning that Julian wasn’t working alone, Nik played along. “And I suppose you won’t tell me your boss’s name.”
“Gotta clear that also.”
“This boss must be some guy to earn your loyalty like this. I’d sure like to meet him.”
“Oh, man, you already have.” Julian laughed and moved over to his couch at the back of the room. “I’m bushed. See you in the morning.”
Exasperated, Nik decided Julian had won that battle. Hopefully, the next day, Smith Senior might be more forthcoming. He couldn’t wait to grill the lowlife in the FBI interview room.
Armed with the questions Max had fed him, Nik didn’t take into consideration the expertise of a smarmy lawyer who was paid big bucks to keep criminals out of jail. And Smith had hired the chief dick of the slime pool.
The two danced around every question he or Maya asked, joking, acting cool and untroubled. “Your son told us that Al Bard wasn’t on your payroll. Mr. Smith, do you really expect me to believe that this man stole one of your trucks, then broke into your office and made himself out a pick-up order, so he could then go to the port and procure an empty container? Come on…” Maya’s repulsed expression spoke louder than words.
“That stupid kid is my step-son. And he takes after his real father—a loser. My wife insisted that he should work in the office.”
“And you mind your wife. What does that make you?” Maya shared a grin with Nik. “What’s the term they use nowadays?”
Nik replied, disgust overriding self-control. “I’d call it being pussy- whipped.”
Ignoring their byplay, the two posers put their heads together and the whispering started up again. Nik wanted to hit something—preferably one, or both, of the idiots at the table. Watching Maya closely, he didn’t know how she maintained such a cool façade. Then she glanced his way and he saw the simmering anger buried under layers of professionalism, and his respect for her skills soared.
Smith, an exceedingly unlikeable man, cloaked in bravado and a flashy white suit, played with his skinny mustache continuously. Finally he nodded in agreement and answered Maya’s question about Al. “Turns out my wife’s son had it wrong. The man does work for us on a temporary basis, only
we
know him as Birdy Bard. And he was sent to get that container, which was supposed to be empty. But we don’t know nothing else about the terrible situation with any dead girl.”
“You mean to tell me that you weren’t aware of her escaping from your men who picked up a delivery at that very terminal four nights ago? Hard to believe! You do remember that your crew was there to collect a shipment of electrical machinery? And we believe that hidden in that cargo was a smaller container imprisoning the young female hostages shipped to you from Singapore.”
Smith sat with a dumb smirk on his face, a twitching eyelid and sweat beginning to pool on his neck. Pretending to be unaffected, he pursed his lips and said nothing.
Nik stuck his hands in his pockets. Forced to control the urge to wipe the stupidness off Smith’s ugly mug, he had to do something. With an eyebrow raised, Maya shot him a warning, which came through loud and clear.
Ultimately, the lawyer spoke up. “Mr. Smith runs a very lucrative shipping company. Of course he has freight arriving from Singapore. That’s where his family has a factory that produces electrical machinery.”
“Yes, we know. Lee Electrical is a very small company and yet it’s surprisingly prosperous.” Maya flipped through some papers clipped to one side of a file folder.
“No law against that, Agent Barnes.”
Maya nodded and turned to Smith. “Your brother runs the factory—is that right? The younger one called Lee Smith?”
“So?”
“And your first name is Maurice, is it not? No, don’t bother checking with your lawyer. We have your files here and it states it quite plainly.”
“I wasn’t trying to hide my name, missy.” Smith spat out the words, ignoring the earlier controversial subjects that Maya had introduced.
Nik interrupted. “Agent Barnes is her name, not missy. And answer the previous questions. Did the shipment of electrical machinery your brother Lee dispatched also include a hidden container of young girls?”
The lawyer stood and brushed his hands together. “This interrogation has a strong stench of harassment. Unless you have enough proof to charge my client, then I suggest you back off and we’ll be on our way.”
Knowing that they had gotten as far as they would get with the inquiry about the shipments, Maya changed tack. “One last question, if I may?” She blocked their escape route. Her piercing stare never wavered. “I’m thinking that the Mosley gang, which has shown up on the NOPD’s radar a lot lately, could be made up from a composite of two names and not just be one person. Moe, short for Maur
ice
, and Lee would fit the bill perfectly, don’t you think, Mr. Smith? It is true that your friends call you Moe?”
Maya watched Nik throughout the interview with Smith and she felt his disgust and frustration. Not being a real Fed, and without the experience of having interviewed numerous scumbags over the years, he didn’t have the same restraint as that of a specialist.
After she’d scanned the files that had come through earlier about Lee Smith and extent of their business he ran in Singapore, it was pretty easy to piece the puzzle together. What pissed her off was that the Mosleys didn’t even try to bury their involvement. In fact, Moe was downright blasé. Which meant, they were satisfied there’d be no leaks about their operations that could be used by the police.
Knowing this, Maya didn’t feel quite as positive about being able to uncover their setup. Sometimes it took months of hard work, scrutiny and numerous people to work such a case, and even then there were no guarantees they’d be able to make any arrests—unless they caught them red-handed.
Shit!
Irritation gnawed at her faith, leaving her unsure. What was the next step? To talk to Julian Freed in person and not just have his information come through Nik came to mind. There were a lot of questions she wanted answered. And he might be able to satisfy some of her curiosity.
Thinking of questions, she still hadn’t found out what had happened to Max. And, as her partner, whether presumed dead or not, he deserved some of her attention.
Strangely, Nik didn’t seem to be as near as concerned about his disappearance as she was. It could be because the brothers had only just met. Or maybe he knew something she didn’t. Feeling unbalanced, she decided to play on her instincts and keep her eyes open—watch everyone—starting with Smith’s operation. She needed to get some idea of what was happening in that office.
A meeting with her boss, Ron Bitters, as dicey as it was, got her what she wanted. He’d dispatch a surveillance team to observe the comings and goings from the rundown Smith & Sons office complex. Hoping that eventually something would appear out of place, she visualized an imminent warrant and a search of the premises.
She knew it was unlikely that they’d be holding any of the kidnapped girls there. But in the same way as when a peeping tom spied on folks nightly, every so often he’d get an eyeful. If they kept their attention on this operation, just maybe, they’d catch the gang breaking the law.
“What do you mean you have no idea where to find Juli? I thought we’d decided the last time he disappeared that you needed to keep better track of him.” Still smarting from her superior’s tongue-lashing about there being no progress on the case, Maya got up from where she’d perched on the edge of her cluttered desk and stomped to the window.
Nik caught the full basket she’d dislodged just in time before the stack of papers hit the floor and scattered. “Hey, you don’t understand. One minute he’s there and the next he’s gone.”
“Yeah, I know someone else just like him.” Her glare spoke the words she’d left out. “Look, do you at least have a phone number?”
“No. But I can leave him a message at the room. I know he’s staying there and would eventually get it.”
“Okay. Let’s go. And then we’ll stop at the Pink Pussycat and ask a few questions. I know they won’t be very forthcoming there, but if we rattle the cage a little, who knows what kind of vermin we might shake up?”
Since the nightclub was closer, they parked in the empty lot and made their way to the front entrance. The show didn’t start for a few hours so there wasn’t much action at all. Seeing as how the front door stood open for a beer delivery, Maya boldly stepped into the dim interior and waited until her eyes became adjusted.
The stench of cigarette smoke from years past, stale beer and the soiled carpet got to Maya, and without all the lights on and the mob of booze-happy people, the place looked rather scummy and sad.
Having done her research, Maya knew the club had changed hands just recently. It was now owned by a multinational company with a murky background they were still digging into. This holding company called M&L—which by itself rang bells— had recently bought up a lot of properties in New Orleans, and this particular nightclub was managed by Glen Lister.
Maya sauntered ahead with Nik following. She sensed his body behind her like a shield. It felt kind of good knowing the man had her back. Stopping a paunchy delivery fellow, his thin, gray, straggly beard hanging a foot down from his face, she said politely, “I’m Agent Barnes, and this is my partner, Agent Foster.” Maya moved her jacket so the man could see her badge. He leaned close as if his eyes were bad, but he’d gotten into her personal space and no one did that without paying. Before Nik could interfere, which she knew he wanted to do from the hiss she’d just heard, she lifted her arm, belting the idiot on the chin enough to throw his head back. “Oops! Sorry. Look, do you know where I can find the manager?”
Sheepishly, he backed up, rubbed his chin and swore under his breath. “Yeah! He’s probably the asshole in the back office, yelling at his secretary, just through that hallway.” A beefy finger pointed her in the direction where cuss words, followed by a slap and a scream, could be heard.
Moving swiftly, Nik striding by her side, they entered the room together. A quick glance and she took in the situation. The secretary holding her cheek, tears pouring over her heavily made-up face, cowered in the corner, while a short, wiry prick in black slacks and a yellow golf shirt advanced on her threateningly.
“Back off, mister. You’ve had your fun.” Maya threatened Lister with her badge obvious and her hand on her weapon.
Too stupid to know when the game was up, rage still riding him, Lister swung at her instead and ended up flying through the air. Nik had seen her warning hand motion to back off and she’d give him a gold star later for listening. This guy was hers and she fully intended to teach the scumbag a lesson.
His temper fueled with pain and embarrassment, the dickhead just didn’t know when to stop. He rolled to his feet and lunged at her, intending to use his body like a battering-ram.
Oh, goody! I love this move…
Using his bent knee as her stepping stool, she literally ran up his body flipped over and rammed her feet in his chest, then ended up in a crouch. Hearing Nik’s laugh made her insides glow. Her various step-daddies sure did come in handy.
A short time later, Maya and Nik sat in chairs across from Lister, waiting for him to regain his senses. They had agreed to hear what the man had to say before setting anything in motion. After all, they had him over a lawbreaking barrel, and just maybe he’d be more forthcoming if he thought they might loosen up and make a deal.
Quitting her job, and now long-gone, the disgusted secretary didn’t help them very much. She’d known nothing of any activities around the joint that might not be honest. And Maya believed her since she’d exhibited her utmost desire to get back at the bastard for messing up her face. That, plus the fact that she’d only been on the job for a few days, made her declaration reasonable.
Nik stood, paced from one end of the room to the other, his countenance indicating his unrest. “Sure is taking his time.” They both glanced at the sad sucker propped up in his chair, head lolling to the side and saliva drooling from his slack mouth. “You must have put a lot more wallop into that incredible kick than it looked like from where I was standing.”
“It is pretty effective.”
“It’s just damn pretty, period.”
Not wanting to wait any longer, Nik went to the sink in the corner by the coffee area and came back with a carafe of cold water, which he threw into Lister’s face. Sputtering, his red face dripping and registering shock, the coward cringed in his chair and looked first at Nik and then Maya. “What the hell do you want?”
Voice chirpy with glee totally fueled by satisfaction, Maya responded, “I’m Agent Barnes, the person you tried to assault a little while ago. And this is my partner, Agent Foster. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Wiping the water from his face with a hand shaking from the reaction of being injured, Lister spoke, or maybe groused would be a better description for the way he answered. “I got nothing to say. You broke into my place and harassed me. I’m thinking to call the police.”
Maya shook her head, an expression of
who-do-you-think-you’re-talking-to
? in her grim smile. “Hey, how about this? We charge you with assault against Marion Glendale, your former secretary, who, by the way, deserves full wages
and
a six-week hardship bonus. Add to that, attacking a federal officer in the line of duty—”
Lister ran his wet fingers through his comb-over, smoothing the greasy mass to the side. “Fine. You’re blackmailing me. What do you want?”
“Just a few answers.”
“About what?” Lister, now sitting straight in his chair, although his hand still rubbed his stomach, listened carefully. His glance skipped from Maya to Nik and back to who he considered to be in charge. “I have nothing to hide. Ask away.”
Nik slowly moved over to sit on the edge of the desk closer to Lister’s chair and leaned over the man threateningly. He didn’t say a word. Maya loved the clever maneuver and nodded toward him.
He’s good…
“I’d think before answering because I don’t have a lot of patience right now. When I look at any degenerate who likes to hit women and then calls himself a man, I just want to throw up. You know? So don’t try me. Tell me about the shipment of young girls that arrived here on July fourteenth. We know they were brought to the basement and then disappeared—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Aggressive again, Lister tried to push past her, but Nik made sure that didn’t happen. Thrusting the idiot back into his seat, he motioned for Maya to continue.
“You sure do like to interrupt, don’t you? That’s not only rude, but it’s also damned annoying.”
“Can you blame me? I don’t know anything about a shipment of girls. And they sure as hell never came to my nightclub. Chrissakes, I don’t even have the fucking keys to the basement.” He added that last sentence as if that was the final vindication to his story.
What got to Maya was—the man was telling the truth.