Almost Broken Up (Almost Bad Boys) (8 page)

“So the cat ate the pendant. And then what happened?” Ali prompts.
 

“I put the pendant on the table right next to the open can of cat food. Lenochka jumped on when I went to the bathroom and started to play with the pendant. It was really tiny. Maybe it fell into her food and she ate it… I think by accident. I saw her eating it. I yelled at her, but it was too late.” Svetlana’s mouth curves down.
 

“The only way to get that pendant is to dig in her litter box.” Ali makes a face.
 

“But she’s gone now,” Svetlana says.

“Yes. So how did
that
happen? How did she get stolen?” I prompt.
 

A gust of wind lifts Svetlana’s hair, making it dance around her head. She pats it down with her hands, and I notice a really nice Rolex on her wrist. Holy Mother of Sweet Jesus, I’m in the wrong business. My curiosity peeks even more.
 

“Let’s go somewhere inside. My ass is freezing off,” Ali complains.
 

We are standing in front of Starbucks, so I motion for the girls to follow inside. Each of us gets coffee, and we find a table away from prying ears.
 

SIX

“It’s the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter.”

Marlene Dietrich
 

Svetlana tells us how she panicked when her cat swallowed that pricey pendant. Apparently, her boyfriend deals in antiques, jewelry, and God knows what else. She doesn’t have any girlfriends in the city, since nobody really wants to hang out with the mobster’s main squeeze.
 

I don’t know why, but I feel bad for her. Maybe it’s because I have Caroline, Ali, and Jena, with whom I’m very close. I can’t imagine not having them in my life. On top of that, Svetlana is practically a newcomer in this country—three years can’t be long enough to feel completely at home in a foreign land. I also have a feeling Svetlana’s family doesn’t live here, so she’s all alone. There is no way I could just not help her out. I glance at Ali and I swear, she must be thinking the same.
 

“I didn’t know who to ask for help. So I asked this one woman who often buys from Andrei. I know her well. I told her what happened.” Svetlana sniffs. “She said to bring the kitty to her so she will take it to her friend doctor… vyeterinar.”

“Veterinarian?” Ali offers. “Did you do that?”
 

“Yes. I go… went to meet with her. She took the kitty from me and ran. I couldn’t run in these,” she motions to her Jimmy Choo’s. No kidding.
 

“Do you know where she took it?” I ask.
 

“No. Maybe to her house. I don’t know.” She sighs.
 

“What’s that woman’s name?” Ali takes a sip of her coffee, watching Svetlana’s face.
 

“Catherine Tousignant. She’s from France,” Svetlana says.
 

Oh, no. Not another French woman from hell. Esther Bosarge comes to mind, and I inwardly groan. Why me? Ali glances at me with sympathy in her eyes. She knows what I’m thinking.
 

“So that Catherine just grabbed your cat and ran with it?” Ali asks skeptically. “Just like that?”

Svetlana nods.
 

“But if she’s your boyfriend’s customer, you can tell him, and he will get the cat from her,” I reason.
 

“No!” Svetlana’s eyes get huge. “He would kill the kitty. I know he would… to get that
medalyon
.”

Great. A crazy French woman and a gangster psycho. What’s next?
 

Ali turns to me and lifts her eyebrows. “How do we find that Catherine whatever her last name is?”

“Oh, no. You’re not suggesting what I’m thinking you are suggesting,” I protest.
 

“Esther would know. She knows many people in the French community in this city. I’m sure she can find out who Catherine Blah Blah is and where she lives.”

I sigh and close my eyes. “Fine. But you will make that call, not me.”

“Of course.” She shrugs.
 

Svetlana watches us, her lips parted. “Who is Esther?”

“It’s someone we know. She’s French, and we think she can tell us where this Catherine woman lives,” I explain.
 

Ten minutes later we have the address. Esther was extremely cooperative, which makes me wonder if she’s plotting the next bout of dating demands. Although she emailed me this morning, saying that her last date was
exceptionally interesting
, which she’s never said about anyone before. Hell, maybe she finally found her match. Yeah, sure. Who am I kidding?

We formulate a plan. It includes driving up to Catherine’s house on Lake Washington in Svetlana’s car, which turns out to be a brand new XKR-S convertible Jaguar. Yep, I’m definitely in the wrong business.
 

The ride is so plush that I forget where and why we are going. Svetlana tells us how she came to the US. She was one of those mail-order brides, and found her previous boyfriend through an international dating agency. Interesting. Ali and I exchange knowing glances, and I know she wants to get more details from Svetlana. Maybe we could use some new ideas for Strong Connections.
 

“He was really sweet,” Svetlana says about the guy who brought her to America. “His name was Matvei. She smiles to herself, and from her expression I can tell she really misses him.
 

“What happened to him?” Ali asks.
 

“Got shot. We were in his apartment, and the other gang broke in. They shot him, but I escaped. He saved me… held them away from the bedroom as long as he could until I climbed out from our balcony to the neighbor’s balcony, and then to the next.” She wipes a tear running down her cheek and blinks rapidly. I offer her a Kleenex from my purse, and she carefully runs it under her eyes.
 

Ali and I briefly stare at each other. Hearing about gangs’ wars is so surreal, but this girl has witnessed it and escaped with her own life. Holy smoke. My brain is having a tough time accepting the veracity of this story, but I don’t really doubt it’s all true.
 

The GPS in Svetlana’s Jaguar takes us straight to Catherine’s house, but we park on the opposite corner of the street. Svetlana turns the car lights off. The house is impressive: three stories of beautiful architecture, sitting right on Lake Washington. Two big-ass columns frame the half-circle front stairs. Massive statues of snarling lions sit on top of the stairs, illuminated by discretely positioned lights. The house sprawls on a hefty chunk of land, which I’m sure costs a small fortune. Homes in this area go for millions, especially ones with an unobstructed view of the lake.

“Nice digs,” Ali whispers. “What does she do for living?”

“She deals the old things, pretty things. Expensive. Antiques?” Svetlana whispers back, testing the word
antiques
and looking to us for confirmation.
 

I nod, letting her know that she pronounced it correctly.
 

“She buys from your boyfriend?” Ali asks.
 

“Yes, from Andrei, but also from the others. The other groups… gangs,” she says.
 

“So that doesn’t piss off Andrei? That she buys from his competition?” I watched a few gangster movies, but I wonder how it works in real life.
 

“Catherine would buy from the others only if Andrei can’t get her something she’s looking for. She tells him if someone else has it before she buys it. But she always buys from him first, and Andrei knows it. They have some deal together. I don’t know. He doesn’t talk business with me. I don’t want to know anything anyway. These things… what he does… it scares me.”

“Why won’t you leave him?” Ali asks.
 

“You can’t leave Andrei. He’s too powerful. He would go after me.”

“So you stay because you are scared,” I conclude.
 

She nods, and then adds quickly. “He’s been good to me. He never hits me; never did anything bad. I think he’ll get bored with me and he will find another girl. That’s when I can go. Not before.”

Huh, just like in those gangster movies. I wish I could advise her something but I have no clue what. So I just say, “I hope you’re safe with him, Svetlana.”
 

She looks at me, her eyes unblinking then she smiles. “When he lets me go, he will give me money and protection. That’s how he does things. I’m not afraid of that. I just can’t leave now. He would get mad.”

“Sounds like you have it all under control,” Ali mutters. “So what are we gonna do now?”
 

I glance from Svetlana to Ali and back. “Svetlana, if you go and knock on the door, would she open? And if she does, can you get in and take the cat?”

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “If I say it’s me, I don’t think she will open the door.”

“No, no. I meant if you ring the bell, would she come to the door? Ah, wait. Doesn’t matter.” I scratch my temple, thinking of the best plan. “She might have someone else in the house like a housekeeper. Or someone who lives with her.”

“She’s not married. No boyfriend,” Svetlana offers. “But she may have a camera somewhere. All these homes have security cameras, I think.”
 

“Good point.” I frown.
 

“We need to creep up and check things out,” Ali says. “Cover your faces with scarves.” All of us are sporting scarves. “Svetlana, you can’t run in those heels.”
 

“I have my flat shoes.” Svetlana presses a button somewhere around the steering wheel, and the car trunk pops up. She gets out and quietly goes to the back of the car. She returns, wearing Prada sneakers. Geez, does she wear anything that doesn’t have a high-profile designer name attached to it?
 

Ali wraps her scarf around her face. Svetlana does the same. I snort, feeling like a complete douchebag. “Are you serious?”
 

“What if she has the security cameras? Do you want your face in the morning news?” Ali reasons.
 

I sigh. How do I get myself involved in the conniving activities like this? Okay, in the name of the Female Solidarity Club. I can do it.

SEVEN

“I think everybody’s nuts.”

John Depp

We creep out from the car and to the side of the house. There are no fences around any of the homes here, so getting close to Catherine’s residence is piece of cake. I tiptoe behind Ali. Svetlana is right behind me. We get to the nearest wall and plaster ourselves against it.
 

“Now what?” I whisper.
 

“Now we need to figure out if there is anyone home. I’ll go and ring the bell,” Ali whispers back.
 

I grab her wrist. “Did you lose your marbles? What are you gonna say?”
 

“Nothing. I won’t wait for the answer. I’ll run.”