Courting Disaster (15 page)

“Thank you, George. Sorry for the trouble but I’ve just been fired.”

The guard grunted and gestured for Mike to turn his back so he could be cuffed.

“George Chudzik. Unusual last name. Polish, isn’t it?”

The guard slanted me a dark look. “Yeah, what of it?”

“It’s just that I recognize it from the list of people on duty the night that Borys Dolinski was murdered.”

“Read my statement, Counselor. I was on my break at the time the shooting occurred.”

“Oh.” I waved my hand in true airhead fashion. “I know that. You had several witnesses attesting to your whereabouts. Lucky you.”

His thick lips lifted back in a sneer. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Certainly.” I stood aside. “Of course, you must be fearful of another shooting inside the jail.”

That gave him pause. “Why’s that?”

“Because if you’re on duty, then you’ll be one of the first ones put under a microscope.”

“You’re nuts.” The guard shoved Mike out of the room, none too gently.

I released a deep sigh. For the moment I’d done what I could to protect Mike from being murdered by a guard. I wondered if George Chudzik was
PG 1
or
PG 2
on Borys’s list.

I went outside to the parking lot. Before going to Gun Club, I had stopped off at a cell phone store and bought an even more high tech one as my old one was still classified as evidence. I called the assistant attorney working with Andy Lopez on the Staminski case. Normally, I had a good rapport with Rachel Sachs outside of court.

“Hiya, Rachel. Carling Dent.”

“Carling.” Rachel sounded cautious.

“You’re working with Andy on the Mike Staminski case.”

“Andy said you were no longer representing Rocket.”

“As they say, easy come, easy go. For the moment I’m representing Mike. By the time I’m off the phone, I could be fired again.” If anyone asked the guard why I had been meeting with Mike, he would verify my ruse as being true.

“That witness affidavit. It didn’t list whether he’s an employee of Rocket.”

“I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Listen, Rachel.” I leaned against my car. “We can either do this the easy or hard way. You know that I’m entitled to information about the so-called witness. I can file a ton of motions or get a PI to poke about, or you simply answer my question and save us time and money.”

Her sigh of exasperation came across loud and clear. “Former employee, Carling. He only worked there for a few weeks before quitting. He now works for some amusement park.”

My heart pounding, I managed to ask nonchalantly. “Oh, Whiplash?”

I heard paper rustling. “Yes, that’s it.”

“Thanks, Rachel. I owe you a drink.”

“The only reason I’m doing this is because of what happened to you yesterday and how scared Jared was. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so shaken.”

I closed my eyes. “Well, thank you anyway.” I stood there, considering my options, none of them pretty. Whatever action I chose, I could lose Jared for good. But all roads led to the amusement park.

Reaching a decision, I punched in a number.

“Gabe, how hard will it be for me to get a fake ID?”

“Sure.” I cracked my gum. “I can start today.”

Whiplash’s harried human resources manager gave me a relieved smile. “That’s great, Ms.—” she glanced at my application, “—Brown.”

I snapped the large wad of gum again. “Call me Judy.”

“All right, Judy. I’ll call the supervisor, Uri Popov. He’ll show you the ropes.” She rose and extended her hand. “Welcome to the Whiplash family. I hope you enjoy working for us.”

“Are you kidding? An amusement park? It’ll be wicked working here.”

From her strained expression, I gathered she heard that initial level of enthusiasm a lot. However, turnover had to be huge, given the fact that, when I had shown up this afternoon, ten people had either called in sick or quit. The HR person had barely glanced at my job application. I was a warm, available body. That was enough.

It wasn’t long before Uri Popov showed up in the outer office. He matched Sheree’s deposition testimony. A Slavic version of Brad Pitt, he reeked of conceit. He wasn’t subtle about checking out the employee goods either. As his gaze moved from my face down my body, I hoped that he saw only a young woman looking for a part-time job. I’d spiked my hair with gel, heavily shadowed my eyes and applied pale lipstick. Going for the Gothic look, I’d worn a black sequined T-shirt, black jeans and a pair of hot pink high-top sneakers.

“Judy?” he asked and held out his hand.

“Yes.” I pretended not to notice that he held my hand a shade too long as he shook it.

“Let’s get you set up with a uniform before I take you out to the booth you’ll be working.”

“Sure.” As soon as he freed my hand, I tucked them into my jean pockets. I followed him down the hall.

“Here’s the girls’ dressing room. See the attendant and sign out for a shirt and a pair of pants.” He studied my body again. “Size six, right?”

I chewed vigorously on my gum. “Why only one uniform?”

He opened the door. “If you last more than a week, then we’ll give you another. But until then, you’re expected to wash your clothes every night and show up clean and neat. Whiplash is about family fun and entertainment, and management makes sure even the lowest-level employee projects that image.”

Charming. Such a nice put-me-in-my-place.

“Yeah?” I gave my gum a good pop as I stepped past him into the changing room. “Good to know that everyone is treated equally here.”

I shut the door in his glowering face.
Damn.
While I didn’t plan to be here very long, I really needed to be nicer so he didn’t watch me too closely. By the time I’d changed and stepped out into the hallway, I’d adjusted my attitude and plastered on a smile.

“Oh, Mr. Popov. This outfit rocks!” I touched his arm lightly. As he led the way out of the building into the park, I chattered nonstop. Whatever hostility he’d harbored had changed to sheer exasperation by the time we reached my assigned ticket booth.

“Norma.” He gestured. “We have a new girl. Show her the basics.” He raised a brow. “You do know how to make change?”

I took a deep breath. “Of course I do, Mr. Popov. The human resource manager was very clear about that being necessary. I worked at a little fruit stand off of Federal Highway—”

“Fine.” He held up his hand. “Just do your job.”

“Certainly.” I smirked at his back as he hurried away and then turned to face the bored-looking woman.

I was in.

That night I’d barely turned my key in Jared’s front door when it was jerked open. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” demanded a very irate-looking Jared.

“Hello to you too,” I said coolly as I stepped past him. My feet hurt, my head ached, and I’d had my fill of rude people.

“Carling.” Jared halted my progress by snagging my wrist. “Why didn’t you return my calls? Your new cell phone either doesn’t work or you weren’t answering.”

I toed off the sneakers. “I had the phone turned off. After all, my new boss—who is also a Hedeon—might recognize a certain state attorney’s name flashing on my cell’s display screen.”

He flexed his hands. “I don’t know whether to spank some sense into you or throttle you.”

His exasperated expression sent a pang of guilt through me. I hadn’t had to account for my whereabouts in a long time. I went to him and slipped my arms around his waist.

“I’m sorry. I did leave you a message about what I was going to do. Give me a few points for that.”

Sighing, Jared returned the embrace and pressed his cheek against the top of my head. “What am I going to do with you?”

Love me,
my heart whispered, but I didn’t say the words.

He raised his head and stepped back. However, he took my hand. “Come on, let’s get it over with. Tell me what happened.”

I settled on the sofa next to him and his fingers toyed with the fringe of my hair. “Begin with the courthouse. Why were you so chummy with Lopez?”

I flashed a quick grin. “Jealous?”

“Of Andy?” He considered the question for a brief second and gave a quick shake of his head. “No, I don’t think so. Should I be?”

“No. A nice guy like that? I’d chew him up and spit him out in a second.”

Jared tugged my hair. “You just keep thinking that. What happened at Whiplash? Your message wasn’t clear what you were doing there.”

I braced myself. “I got a job as a ticket taker.”

“What?” He dropped his hand only to grip my arms. “Are you nuts?”

“It was on Borys’s list of Hedeon operations. Sheree Greiner testified there were preferred booths at Whiplash just like at the racetrack. With high volume tourist business, the park could launder a lot of money.

“All evidence points to the park as being a key, Jared. I’m in. You have a ready-made informant already in place. Use me.”

His eyes narrowed. “I know you and that tone. You want something. What?”

I opened my mouth to protest. No, I was on a mission to repair the damage between us. This was too important to screw up now that I had his attention.

“Protection for Mike Staminski and his family.”

“The truck driver?”

“He’d be willing to testify against the Hedeon about the Rocket drug operations.”

“Ah.” Jared’s brow furrowed as he considered the deal.

“That’s not all. I think I’ve found
PG
number one or two.”

“The prison guard on the take?”

“Yes, his name’s George Chudzik. He was on duty the night Borys was murdered and Mike’s terrified of him.”

Jared rubbed his face. “God, if I can’t keep you out of the investigation, then I’d guess I’d better make you part of it. It’s the only way I’m ever going to keep you safe. I’ll make some calls. I have to cut through the red tape with more than one law enforcement agency.”

Relief flowed through me. “Thank you.”

“But, Carling—” he placed his finger under my chin and lifted my face to meet his gaze, “—I’m serious. By the book. If I say get out of there, you get out. No argument.”

“Sure.”

He brushed his lips against mine. “We’ll have to figure out how to rig you. There’s very few I trust right now at the police department, but Sam can help.”

“Already got that covered.” I scrounged around in the bag I had looped over my shoulder. I pulled out the cell phone. “It has a camera. If you help me figure out how to work it, then I can photograph or video any suspicious activity.”

Jared’s smile was half-rueful. “Looks like you thought of everything.”

“Not everything.” I spread my hands across his chest. “I’m working on whether you’re still mad at me or whether you’re open to a little exploration.”

I ran my hand under his shirt, along the warm flesh stretched over his rib cage. He inhaled sharply. “I think a recess is in order.”

“Oh?” I unfastened his jeans and stroked him.

He reached out and ran his hands along my sides until he was cupping my breasts. “Most definitely.”

Later as I lay on top of him, spent, I wondered who had been more desperate for the searing connection.

I sat on the stool, watching a boisterous group of teenagers approach the main booth where I sat with one other employee. As I made change for their tickets, I checked out another separate booth to my right. A young woman named Helen reigned queen over that station, a fact Norma was only too happy to tell me, along with a litany of other complaints and gossip.

“Helen is Uri’s pet. That’s the will call or reserved ticket booth and no one, but no one is allowed in it except Helen or one other girl. They relieve each other. If one isn’t available, they close the booth. I’ve been working here a year, and do they trust me with the precious reservations, heck no.”

She broke off to take a couple’s money. “Here you go, honey.” She handed over the tickets and continued talking.

“It’s not as if this place can keep personnel. It’s all kids or seasonal help. And that girl being raped earlier this year didn’t help. A number of girls quit.”

“I read about her. Tragic. What was her name?”

“Sheree. Nice kid. Here to meet boys, if you ask me. Apparently met the wrong one.”

“Uri didn’t bother her, did he?” Norma and I had already established the supervisor was a chauvinist to the max degree. Amazing how a bond can be forged over the dislike of a man.

“Oh no, honey.” Norma waved a heavily bangled arm. “If anything, Sheree was sweet-talking him, hoping to get assigned to the reservations booth. But she would have had to put out and even that may not have been enough. Both Helen and the other girl—I think her name’s Nika—are Russian.”

“Do Helen and Nika put out for Uri?”

“Nika certainly does. I caught the two of them once in the changing room, buck naked and screwing up a storm.” Norma stopped to help another customer.

Once money and tickets had been exchanged, she took up where she left off immediately. “But Helen’s special. Reserved for the CEO only.”

“Who’s the CEO?” I kept my voice neutral but excitement pumped through me. A registered agent was on file at the Department of Corporations, but I didn’t think he ran the operation.

“Oh honey, don’t you even be thinking about casting your attention in that direction. Vladimir Petrov burns through women almost as fast as he does money.”

Petrov? The racetrack owner also ran Whiplash? “So Helen’s job security…”

“Is only as long as she can keep him interested. And the way he’s been keeping an eye on the new girl just walking past us—” Norma gave a nod, “—I’d say Helen’s going to be history real soon.”

“Really?” Curious, I looked in the direction she had indicated, and horror formed a sick ball in my stomach. With her head bent and her shoulders hunched, Galina Staminski walked slowly along the sidewalk from the parking lot.

As she passed the booths, she glanced up and her dark eyes widened in recognition. I gave a slight shake of my head, and she continued on without a pause.

“That one works the water bumper cars. Keeps the teenage boys hanging around, shelling out money.”

“I can see why. Will we get to see the owner come by here?”

Norma’s snort told the story. “No, his highness has a private entrance for him and his entourage at the back of the park. Even has his own elevator in the main office building.”

“Sounds isolated to me,” I commented as I took money from a young couple headed to one of the restaurants.

“Don’t you believe that. He has eyes everywhere, beginning with that one.”

Uri emerged from the nearest set of rides to the front entrance and strode in the direction of the offices. With a start I realized he wasn’t too far behind Galina. Was he following her?

Norma stole a look at my watch. “Look, I want to cut out of here early tonight. It’s my youngest’s birthday and I need to get one of those Publix’s cakes for her. I already cleared it with Uri to work through my break. Why don’t you take yours now?”

“Sure, no problem,” I said easily, rising from the stool. “I’ll be happy to cover for you tonight.” I slid the Position Closed sign into place.

“Good.” She greeted another customer. “Be back in thirty.”

I hurried toward the offices but once inside saw no sign of Galina in the changing room. After a quick use of the facilities, I went outside again and headed to one of the refreshment stands to buy a bottle of water.

“Carling. Over here.” Galina whispered from the other side of the stand.

Paying for the water, I unscrewed the top and took a sip as I strolled on. The girl stood in the deep shadows next to the water slide. I came to a stop close enough to talk but not close enough to draw attention. I watched several screaming girls slide down in a raft.

“Galina, why are you working here?”

“We need the money.”

“But—”

“You wonder why I’m working for the men who might kill my father?”

“Yes.”

“In Russia my father was jailed for crimes against the state. In prison he met a few men from the same town, who took him into their gang to protect him. He even got their special tattoo of a knife in a circle. The Hedeon, they called themselves. When my father got out, he changed our last name to make a new start. We paid a lot for papers to emigrate here. The government was all too willing to look the other way to get rid of undesirables. But…it was difficult. The language…Father couldn’t find work at first.”

“So he contacted the Hedeon.”

Galina’s sigh was almost a sound of grief. “Yes. He was told to see Grigori, who runs several of the criminal cells. Father refused to have anything to do with the drugs, but Grigori assured him it was straight work. Just delivering loads of fertilizer.”

“How is Vladimir Petrov connected?”

“He is the
pakhan
, the boss. Vladimir employs spies to watch each of his top people to make sure they remain loyal and don’t get too powerful. If they do stray, then the enforcers dispose of them. They have a code and to betray another is a death sentence.”

“Sounds…complex.” And chilling.

“In Russia the street operators would never know who the boss was. Here, Father says—while it is more difficult for the members to conceal their identities—you still never know which man sitting next to you is a spy or an enforcer. It could be your best friend.”