3 Bad Guys Get Caught (12 page)

“Needed a change, huh? Let me guess, is
it a broken heart?”

“Just needed a break.” Dennis took a
swig of his beer and looked into the distance.

He could sense Mila edging closer to
him, her hand almost brushing against his. He took a step sideways; physical
contact was where he drew the line. Whoever was it that invented the myth about
men craving sex more than women? Every single woman he’d ever flirted with,
apart from Janet, had been eager to jump into his bed. Then again, maybe it had
to do with the kind of women he used to date, but he was with Janet now, and
there was no information source important enough for him to jeopardize that.
Dennis glanced at his watch. “I almost forgot about Grandma’s party. I’ve got
to get going now, or Janet will have my head.”

Mila gulped down the rest of her drink.
“We’d better get going then. Wouldn’t want to keep you away from Grandma.”

Mustn’t overdo it, Dennis thought, aware
of the clipped notes in Mila’s voice. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to get your
boyfriend jealous,” he added.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“No? Well, in that case would you like
to join me tomorrow for an aimless walk around the city?”

“Sounds tempting, but I have to work.”

Damn, Dennis thought, she’s really
pissed. Come on, think. You’ve got to draw her out again.

“How about the day after?” Mila offered.

“Now I have something to look forward
to.”

“So do I.”

***

Mila opened the door of her apartment
and listened intently. Anton said he wouldn’t be back until late at night, but
she wanted to be sure she wouldn’t be in for an unpleasant surprise. Reassured
by the quiet inside the apartment, Mila walked inside. She kicked off her shoes
and sprawled out on the couch, putting up her feet on the reading table. Her
apartment: she could hardly call it that. It was Anton’s apartment, and she
lived there because she had to; because he had something of hers that she
wanted back.

There was the sound of the key turning
in the front lock. Anton was home early. Mila slid her feet off the table;
Anton always gave her crap about it being unladylike. As if he knew anything
about manners to begin with.

“Mila! You’re home?” Anton’s gruff voice
carried from the foyer. The man acted as though he couldn’t live a moment
without her. Some would say it was true love, but Mila knew better.

“Hi, honey! Over here,” she called out.

“What have you been doing all day? Have
you been a good girl?” Anton walked towards her.

“I’ve been a good girl,” Mila purred.
Anton hated it when she went out without him. Suddenly, she remembered that
she’d left her bag in the foyer. “I’ve missed you.” She dangled her leg
suggestively, hoping that the prospect of sex would dim Anton’s attention.

It almost worked. Anton’s face assumed a
bovine expression that it always did whenever he was horny. He reached for
Mila, but stopped midway. “What’s your bag doing on the floor?” he asked, his
eyebrows knitting in suspicion.

“My bag?” Mila asked innocently. “I
don’t know. It must’ve fallen on the floor. I didn’t even see it. I’ve been on
this couch all day, waiting for you,” she added.

“I’m here now.” Anton grinned.

After it was over, Anton rolled off of
her and stumbled out of bed, heading for the study. Usually, he always took a
nap after sex, but apparently, some pressing matter took precedence over his
habit. Of course he wasn’t telling Mila what it was; he never did.

Mila listened intently, wondering what
Anton was up to. She had taken a tremendous risk today going out with that
Dennis character; if any of Anton’s acquaintances had spotted her, she would’ve
been dead, literally so. Anton was, after all, a Kovar. Which was why she had
opted for the Metropolitan Museum; Anton’s cohorts wouldn’t be caught in that
part of town. Their idea of a good time ended with a good steak accompanied by
a good drink; anything beyond that was gibberish. She just wished the outing
had been more productive. Usually men went gaga over her, but not Dennis.
Perhaps he was just playing it cool, but he had shown about as much excitement
about her as a fish would over a bicycle. Sure, he was polite and all, but in
many ways his stifled politeness had made it worse, making Mila feel as though
she was throwing herself at him. Not that she was interested in Dennis; she was
done being interested in men, period. She was interested in his skills: if he
wasn’t bragging, he was good with breaking into computers and safes, which was
exactly what she needed.

Mila got out of bed and crept towards
the study. She hovered by the door; Anton was on the computer, staring at the
screen intently. Mila walked towards him and felt a chill run down her spine.
The screen had a snapshot of his bank account and the balance was ten million
dollars.

“Mila, what are you doing? I told you
not to come in here.”

“I was just going to make a snack and I
wanted to ask you if you wanted anything.” Mention of food usually put Anton in
a good mood.

“Yes, make me a sandwich, you know, the
way I like it. Now get your behind out of here.”

“Coming right up.” Mila didn’t even
blink; she had gotten used to being trampled on. As she padded out of the room,
she saw Anton log off from the bank screen and place a small rectangular object
into the safe: it was a bank-issued electronic token that provided the security
log-in codes. Until she could find a way to get access to Anton’s bank account,
she would just have to keep swallowing her pride.

Mila swung open the Sub-Zero and plunked
the cold cut containers on the counter. Anton’s favorite sandwich consisted of
prosciutto, some kind of dried sausage with enough paprika to set one’s mouth
on fire, bacon, Swiss cheese, mayo, and pickles. She slapped the ingredients
onto pumpernickel bread (Anton was very particular about his bread) and laid
the sandwich on a plate, garnishing it with cherry tomatoes. Then, she opened a
bottle of beer and set it all on the granite counter. For herself she opened a
container of fat free yogurt and nibbled on it, perching on the counter stool.
She was too angry to have any appetite.

“Ah, beautiful! Just the way I like it.”
Anton’s eyes lit up greedily at the sight of the sandwich. He took a large bite
and chewed noisily, washing the food down with his beer. “You’re only having a
yogurt?”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“Good. Keep that slim figure of yours.”

Mila shoved another spoonful of yogurt
into her mouth to keep herself from giving Anton a piece of her mind. God, how
she hated the man.

“What’s this?” Anton poked at the cherry
tomatoes.

“Tomatoes,” Mila replied
matter-of-factly.

“I told you I don’t eat that garbage!”
Despite eating like a pig, Anton managed to have a hot body; even Mila couldn’t
deny that he was ripped.

“These are different.” Mila grabbed one
of the tomatoes and holding it between her index finger and her thumb, sucked
on it sensually. “Mmm, that tastes good.”

Anton grinned, his eyes fixed on her
lips. “That’s right, you eat them. Vegetables are good for you, Milochka; a
good diet to keep you young and pretty for me.”

Mila swallowed the bits of the tomato
and kept her mouth shut. One day, she’d kick Anton’s ape ass.

“So,” said Anton after he finished the
last piece of the sandwich, licking his fingers, “I’m going to be away for
about three days. Maybe more. Are you going to be a good girl while I’m gone?
Or do I need to send someone to watch you?”

Mila’s heart started racing. This was an
unexpected boon. Anton had never left her alone in the apartment for more than
a few hours. “I’ll be a good girl,” she said evenly.

“Because you know that I’ve got my ways
of keeping an eye on you. If you’re being bad, I’ll know. You’re not going to
do anything foolish, like try to run away from me?”

“Why would I run away from the man I
love?” Mila said in a low, husky voice. She grabbed another cherry tomato from
Anton’s now empty plate and sucked on it for emphasis.

Anton’s expression became that of smug
satisfaction. “That’s right. I’m good to you; we’re good for each other. You’ve
got everything you need here: hot sex, roof over your head, food, clothes. All
your needs are answered for.”

Mila nodded, thinking that now was not
the right time to bring up her slaving away at Panther.

“I keep your money safe; well, your
ex-boyfriend’s money, but it’s yours now.” Anton reached for a box of
toothpicks that he always kept on the counter and popped one into his mouth. He
sucked on a toothpick meditatively. “You’ve got a pretty good deal going here.
Your ex-boyfriend is in jail now; if the cops knew about you, they’d get on
your tail in no time and take the money.”

Mila touched Anton’s hand. “I know.” She
cursed the day she had gotten the dumb idea of calling up Anton Kovar and
asking him for protection. She remembered the moment with crystal clarity; she
had just learned about David Muller’s arrest, and her world was instantly
turned upside down. At the time, she had just met Anton through her job at
Panther. His attention flattered her. She knew about his powerful uncle and
thought she would be able to use her charms on Anton to get what she needed,
just like she had with David, but no such luck. Anton had taken her in with
open arms and promised to give her protection. He used his network of offshore
accounts to transfer David’s money before the authorities could seize it, but
when Mila asked him about transferring the money into her own account, he
merely laughed, saying that she’d get caught like a kid with her hand in a
cookie jar. In the beginning he used to at least feed her promises of giving
the money back to her when it “became safe”, but now he no longer even
bothered. Of course she could have run away; she had saved enough money to pay
for an airfare to Prague, but it wasn’t nearly enough money to hide from a man
like Anton. So she became his slave, eager to convince him of her obedience,
hopeful that one day, when Anton wasn’t looking, she’d make her escape. Once
she got her hands on David’s money, she’d change her name and disappear forever
in some remote corner of the world where no man would ever lay a claim on her.

“But what am I saying? You’re a smart girl.
You wouldn’t leave me.” Anton’s eyes narrowed. “Because if you did, I’d go to
the end of the earth to find you.”

Mila stared unflinchingly into Anton’s
burrowing eyes. “I’d go to the end of the earth to find you, my love, if we
were ever separated.”

Anton patted her butt. “My Milochka. I
know I can trust you.”

“When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to pack your suitcase?”

“No, I’ll do it myself.”

“I’ll be counting every minute until
your return.”

On his way to Janet’s apartment, Dennis
picked up a Milk-Bone for Baxter, a bottle of champagne, chocolate covered
strawberries, and a bouquet of white lilies—Janet’s favorite flowers. Even
though she had said that she was all right with the whole Mila thing, he
suspected that Janet wasn’t happy about it in the least, and frankly speaking
neither was he, especially since the controversial rendezvous had not produced
the expected results. He had hoped that he would get further along, but Mila
was one tight-lipped broad.

Of course there were other ways to get
information out of Mila. Dennis could ring up his buddy at the immigration
bureau and tinker with her visa, or he could bluff her into providing
information by saying that there was direct evidence of her aiding Muller to
hide the stolen funds. He didn’t want to employ the nuclear options just yet,
reasoning that Mila would be much more forthcoming if he managed to gain her
trust. Unfortunately, in order to gain her trust, he’d need to see more of
Mila, and he was fairly certain that Janet wouldn’t take too kindly to the
idea. Truth be told, he could hardly blame her. He didn’t even want to think
about how he would react if the shoe were on the other foot.

Dennis was so deep in his thoughts that
he had almost walked past Janet’s building. He checked his watch: six o’clock,
sharp. At least he was on time. He really didn’t need to give Janet another
reason to be mad at him. His plan was to let Janet vent and then mollify her
with champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, and sex. If by some miraculous
chance of fate Janet wouldn’t be holding any grudges, it would simply be a nice
surprise. He walked inside the building, exchanged a friendly hello with the
doorman, and headed for the elevator.

The elevator doors opened and Dennis
walked out into the hallway. He took special care to walk extra quietly past
Janet’s neighbor’s door. In his opinion, Mrs. Chapman was either playing the
piano, singing opera tunes or collecting gossip on the building’s inhabitants.
Right now, there was no sound of piano chords coming from behind her door, so
Dennis worried about the latter.

“Dennis, how are you?” Janet’s neighbor,
Mrs. Chapman, poked her head through her door just as Dennis was about to ring
Janet’s doorbell.

“Fine, Mrs. Chapman, and how are you?”
Dennis replied politely. Janet thought the world of Mrs. Chapman, but
personally, Dennis thought she was an old gossiper. Although he did agree that
she was useful for always being ready to babysit Baxter.

“Fine, thank you. Those are beautiful
flowers.”

“They are Janet’s favorite.”

“Oh, is there a special occasion?”

“A man doesn’t need a special occasion
to bring his girlfriend flowers.”

“Right you are. My late husband used to
buy me flowers all the time, and now my boyfriend does. Did Janet tell you that
I have a boyfriend? We met at the community center mixer.”

“No, she didn’t. He must be one lucky
fellow.”

“Dennis, you’re a flirt.”

“Just speaking the truth. Oh, and I
wanted to thank you again for taking such good care of Baxter. Janet really
appreciates that.”

“It’s no problem, no problem at all.
He’s such an adorable dog. Well, I’ll let you go on to your lovebird. I have to
get back to my rehearsing. Toodles.” Mrs. Chapman twirled her fingers. A few
moments later, piano chords erupted from behind her door.

“Toodles,” Dennis grunted, pressing the
doorbell. The old gasbag had made him late, and now he was really going to get
it. Dennis heard Baxter’s delighted barking on the other side of the door and
smiled; at least he could always count on Baxter for being happy to see him.

Janet opened the front door and stood on
the threshold with her arms crisscrossed on her chest. “You’re late,” she
observed, completely ignoring the flowers.

“I was on time when I got here,” Dennis
retorted, making his way inside the apartment. “That old biddy Mrs. Chapman
made me late.”

“Shh!” Janet hissed. “She could hear
you.”

“I doubt it. I can barely hear myself
with all that piano playing.”

“I like Mrs. Chapman,” Janet snapped.

“I know you do.” Dennis bent down to pet
Baxter who had been jumping up and down like a tennis ball. “Hello buddy, I
missed you too. Here’s a little treat for you.” Dennis gave Baxter the
Milk-Bone.

“He’s not supposed to get treats before
dinner. You’ll spoil his appetite.”

“It’s just a Milk-Bone. It’s good for
him. It’s got vitamins and stuff.”

Janet rolled her eyes. “He already likes
you more than me.”

“Can you put these in the water?” Dennis
handed her the flowers.

“Is that your plan? To cajole me with
flowers and spoil Baxter with treats?”

“I also got champagne and chocolate
covered strawberries,” Dennis added, placing both on the kitchen counter.

Janet took the flowers and walked inside
the kitchen. She grabbed a vase and began filling it with water. “Bribery
doesn’t work on me.”

“Well then, I’ll try other means,” he
murmured, hugging her from behind and nuzzling her neck.

“Stop it, Dennis. I have to put the
flowers in the water.”

“They can wait.”

Janet ducked away from him and put the
flowers in the vase. She turned around and faced him. “Tell me how it went.”

Dennis sighed. “All right, but first let
me at least put the champagne in the fridge.”

“I’ll do it.” Janet put the champagne
away.

“I got chocolate strawberries too,”
Dennis added in a wild hope.

“My favorite. Great, we’ll have them
after dinner, which we’ll have right after you tell me how the date with Mila
went.”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“Fine, an undercover date.”

“We walked around Central Park—”

“Ah, she went for the atmosphere. I
thought she was going to take you to Times Square or the Empire State
Building.”

“Do you want to hear how it went or do
you want to make comments?”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“She’s definitely hiding something. I
could sense it from how tense she was, constantly on guard. She seemed to be
very interested in my job; she kept asking if I was good with computers. I
think there’s more to it, but I’ll need more time to ferret it out of her.”

“In other words you agreed to see her
again?”

“I haven’t agreed to anything, Janet. I
won’t see her again if you don’t want me to. Frankly, you’re being a little bit
unfair here. You agreed to the whole thing and now you’re giving me the third
degree.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit back and
not say anything when you go out cavorting with other women?”

“For crying out loud, I’m not cavorting
with other women! I only went out with her to get information. Or perhaps
you’ve been able to get leads? ‘Cause I’m ready to drop the whole thing right
now and tell Ham that we couldn’t get any more info on Libby and let him go
back to the client with that. If the whole thing blows up months later, which
it probably will because Libby’s opponents will use any edge they can to get
the scoop, we’ll just tell Ham that we couldn’t compromise our ethics to get
the information. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear that. Oh, and the fact that
we also missed a possible lead on the location of Muller’s money will be the
icing on the cake.”

“I’m sorry.”

Dennis rubbed his forehead. “No, I’m the
one who’s sorry. I should’ve never put you in this position. God knows if the
tables were reversed, I’d be pissed too.”

“I don’t mean to be so selfish. It’s
just that I can’t stand the thought of you being with her.”

“Janet, honey, I’m not “with her”! I was
simply going through the motions to get information. All we did was walk in the
park and have cocktails on the Metropolitan roof.”

“You had cocktails on the Met roof?”
Janet repeated in a hushed whisper. “That’s our special place—”

“It’s still our special place; ours and
no one else’s. Janet, baby, if you think that I’m feeling good about this … The
fact that I had to stoop to such tactics means that I’m a piss-poor
investigator.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a great
investigator. You’re always coming up with the best ideas. I tried to imitate
you by getting a job at Panther, but it hasn’t gotten me anything but
aggravation. Even this whole thing with Mila, as much as I hate it, I can’t
deny that it was a smart thing to do. You have a way with women; she’ll cave in
and tell you everything. You’ll see.”

“I won’t do it unless you’re okay with
it. It’s not worth jeopardizing what we have.”

“It won’t. I won’t let it. I’m sorry for
being such an idiot, for giving you such a hard time when you didn’t do
anything wrong. I mean, you brought champagne and strawberries, and here I am,
being a total bitch.”

“Chocolate covered strawberries. You
couldn’t be a bitch if you tried.” Dennis opened the box and pulled out one of
the strawberries, bringing it to Janet’s mouth. “Try it.”

“It’s dessert and we haven’t had dinner
yet. I was going to make steak, your favorite, and now I’ve ruined everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything. I like
having my dessert before dinner.” Dennis pressed the strawberry to Janet’s
lips. “Take a bite.”

She bit into the strawberry. “These are
good.”

“Let me see.” He locked her lips in a
deep kiss. “Mmm, tastes delicious.” He nibbled on her earlobe, moving his lips
down her neck, grazing her collarbone. Desire stormed inside him; he wanted her
then and there, eager to erase the stupid bickering between them with hot,
passionate sex. Janet moaned something indiscernible in his ear, which by the
tone of her voice and the look on her face he took as acquiescence, so he
lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed.