Nobody's Child (Georgia Davis Series) (25 page)

O
nce Vlad left the warehouse, Savannah’s anxiety bubbled to the surface. Something was very wrong. Vlad knew Georgia. She didn’t know how, but she knew her sister was in danger. And it was her fault. She had to do something. She pulled her gaze from the door Vlad had gone through and rubbed a hand down one arm. As she did, an idea came to her.

She continued to briskly rub her hands up and down her arms. “I’m fucking freezing,” she said to Sergei. “Can I borrow your coat?”

Sergei flashed her a puzzled look.

“Your coat.” She pointed to his coat and pantomimed draping it around her shoulders. Sergei hesitated, uncertainty flooding his face.

“Please. I’m so cold.”

Finally he nodded. He took off his jacket and passed it to Savannah. She put it on and flashed him a brilliant smile. “Thank you so much.”

She went back to the camp bed. She couldn’t do it right away. She had to wait. She stretched her arms, yawned theatrically, and lay down, curling up on her side. Sergei looked as if he approved. Why not? With her asleep, he could relax his guard. She pretended to be sleepy and closed her eyes, all the while mentally counting seconds. When she got to three hundred, she rolled to the other side, As she did, she furtively slipped a hand into the front pocket of his jacket. Where he kept his cell.

Her fingers brushed something metallic. It was there! She closed her fingers around it, trying hard not to let her triumph show. She counted to three hundred again. Then she slowly got up, swung her legs over the bed, and stood.

“Bathroom,” she said when Sergei also rose from his chair.

He nodded.

She headed to the bathroom. Sergei didn’t go with her, but he followed her with his eyes. She went in and closed the door. Her heart banged in her chest. She fished out the cell, sat down on the toilet, and dialed 4-1-1, timing her pee so that it trickled out at the same time the recorded voice came on the line. When it was time for her to speak, she flushed the toilet and whispered.

“Georgia Davis. Evanston. Wilder Street.”

“One moment.”

Savannah impatiently pressed the phone against her ear.
Hurry up.
Finally, when the recorded voice told her she could be connected at no additional charge, she pressed the button. She couldn’t believe it. She was actually going to talk to her sister. For a fleeting moment, a burst of pure joy skipped up her spine.

Georgia’s line rang. At the same time, Sergei banged on the door.

“Give back, bitch.”

She kept her mouth shut.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice said on the other end.

“Savannah, now.”

She heard her sister’s voice. “Hello? Is anyone there?” And then, “Sam, is that you?”

“No, I won’t!” Savannah said.

The door to the bathroom swung open, and Sergei stormed in. He bent over her and snatched the phone away.

“No!” she yelled.

Sergei raised the phone to his ear. Savannah could hear her sister.

“Sam, are you there?”

Savannah had no way to reply.

Sergei broke the connection.

S
avannah was relieved when Jenny called through the vent the next morning. At least
she
was still there.

“Where were you?” Jenny whispered. “I was so worried.”

Vanna told her about the week in the warehouse and how Vlad had made her write a note to her sister.

“Why would he do that? Does he know her?”

“Apparently. I tried to call her.” She explained how she’d “borrowed” Sergei’s phone but it hadn’t worked. “I still need to warn her.”

“About what? You have no idea what he’s up to.”

“I know that, but somehow I need to tell her not to come looking for me.”

“But you just wrote a note asking her to do just that.”

Vanna let out an impatient breath. “Jenny, it’s a trap. Vlad
wants
her to come looking for me.”

“Why?”

Vanna wondered how another human being could be so dense. “I just told you I have no idea.” She paused. “Maybe Sergei knows.”

“Sergei…the guard?”

“He was my watcher at the warehouse. He may know what Vlad’s planning. Maybe he could warn her for me.”

“Oh sure.” Jenny voice was laced with sarcasm. “He’ll definitely go out of his way for you. Especially after you tried to rip off his cell.”

“Other than that, he’s been nice to me.”

“I’m sure he has. But Vlad pays him a lot of money to guard us. How are
you
going to pay?”

“I’ll let him do whatever he wants,” Vanna said after a beat.

“I don’t know about that.” Jenny went quiet. Then she changed the subject as if she didn’t want to know any more. “Speaking of plans, something happened while you were gone.”

“What?”

“There’s a new girl.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“Pregnant?”

“About to deliver.”

“Is she a blond?”

“Of course.”

“Shit. What’s with him and all the blond girls?”

“I don’t know,” Jenny said.

“Maybe he thinks he can charge a higher price for babies that have blond mothers. Or something like that. Have you talked to her?”

“Not yet. Her English isn’t so good. But she speaks Russian. She and Zoya were talking.”

“Well now, that’s interesting.”

“Why?”

Vanna felt another flash of irritation. Jenny should have been able to figure it out. It meant that Vlad’s business was growing so fast he was now recruiting girls from overseas as well as the US. But more important, it meant this girl could listen in on what Zoya and the guards said to each other. She could eavesdrop on Zoya’s end of a phone conversation, too. And if she could translate what she heard, a bunch of new possibilities had just turned up.

* * *

Later that day Vanna managed to get Sergei to take her for a walk. It was a mild day for February, and the ground was so soggy from melting snow that clumps of mud stuck to her gym shoes. She didn’t care; she’d found the shoes in her closet and they were two sizes too big. As they made their way past the barn, she let out a breath and asked if he’d warn Georgia for her.

“I don’t have money to pay you. But you and I can have our own private party afterward.” She flashed him what she hoped was a seductive smile.

His eyes narrowed. He gazed at her with a frown on his face. Then he shook his head. “Too danger. If Vlad find out, I am dead.”

“Not if no one tells him. I won’t. Neither will you.”

“He find out.”

“How?”

Sergei shrugged. “He has ways. He check cell sometime.”

A wave of guilt rolled over her. With her luck, he’d check Sergei’s phone today. Sergei didn’t deserve Vlad’s wrath. No one did. “I’m sorry for using your phone.” She paused. “But, if he finds out, I’ll take the blame. I’m probably going to die anyway.”

Sergei eyed her without speaking.

“Look, I don’t care. It’s too late for me. But my sister—she has a life. I don’t want her to come into contact with Vlad. It’s too dangerous. You know that.”

Still no answer. They walked to the edge of a stand of trees and turned around.

“Have you delivered the letter yet?”

“Today.”

She clapped her hands. “That’s perfect. Go ahead and deliver it, but then hang around and tell her to ignore the whole thing.”

He looked doubtful, which, perversely, filled Vanna with hope. It meant he was considering it.

“And don’t forget what we’re gonna do afterward,” she purred.

Sergei didn’t say anything, but he stopped walking. “I have daughter. In Ukraine.”

Vanna stopped too. “Then you know how important it is to protect her. All I’m asking is that you help me save my sister.”

“And if Vlad’s men follow?”

“Vlad trusts you. You’re his driver.”

He rolled his eyes, as if that was meaningless in the great scheme of things. Then he started back toward the house. “I make no promise.”

The thought occurred to her that he might be setting her up. That he might double-cross her, run to Vlad, and tell him what she wanted. But she had played her last card. She just had to pray he wouldn’t. She touched his arm and pulled it toward her. “Will you at least try?”

He shrugged.

“You know where Wilder Street is?”

T
wo days passed before Vanna and Jenny found themselves in the kitchen at the same time as the new girl, whose name was Ivona. Sergei hadn’t come back to the farm, and a new guard with greasy hair and a full beard was on duty when Zoya was away. He smelled like he hadn’t showered in months, and Vanna didn’t want to think about what could be trapped in his beard or under his fingernails. He stationed himself with his back to the door and scowled at them.

Vanna tried to ignore him. She was worried about Sergei. Sometimes he did disappear for a few days doing errands for Vlad. She convinced herself that’s what was he was doing and concentrated on Ivona.

The girl had brown eyes and limp, straw-like hair that hung to her shoulders. Except for her belly, she was waiflike and pale. Her teeth were yellow and crooked—she could have used an orthodontist. But that would be a luxury for a Russian immigrant.

She tried to draw the girl out, using the same combination of pigeon English and gestures she’d used with Sergei, but Ivona wouldn’t make eye contact and sat hunched over, as if she was folding into herself, trying to disappear.

“When are you due?” Vanna asked. She shot a glance toward the guard. He stared back, his expression hard and flat. She’d assumed he didn’t understand English; now she wasn’t sure.

“Nothing.” Ivona said only the one word, but her Slavic accent was heavy.

Vanna shook her head. “When does baby come?” Vanna patted her own belly.

Ivona looked up. “Soon.”

“Vlad?” Vanna asked.

Ivona nodded.

Vanna felt a stab of anguish. Another girl impregnated by Vlad. Jenny was right. She, Vanna, was just another girl who had been knocked up. Nobody special. But then, why had he treated her like she was? Had she imagined it? She fingered her earrings.

“Where are you from?” Vanna asked.

“Latvia,” Ivona answered without looking up.

“How long are you here?”

“My cousin come Northbrook. He meet Vlad. Vlad say to tell me I get big job here. Make much money.”

“So when did you come?”

“One year.”

Vanna gave her a cheerless nod. Another soul who thought the streets of America were paved with gold.

Now Ivona looked up. “How long you?”

“About six months.”

“But you American. Her too.” She motioned to Jenny.

“So what?” Jenny said. “We’re all in the same boat.”

Ivona frowned. “Boat? What boat?”

“She means situation,” Vanna explained.

“Maybe, maybe no.”

“What does that mean?” Jenny asked.

“Maybe you okay.”

“What do you mean ‘okay’? How could we be?’”

Ivona gazed long and hard at Jenny. “You know.”

“Know what? What are you talking about?”

The guard started toward them. Zoya didn’t like the girls talking among themselves, and she must have told him to break up any conversation that lasted more than a few seconds. Ivona spoke sharply to him in Russian. The guard stopped. She held up her palm and wiggled her fingers.

“Stupid peasant,” Ivona said. “I say we talk nail polish.”

“Ivona,” Vanna said impatiently. “Tell us what you mean by ‘okay.’”

Ivona lay her hand down on the table. She gazed at Vanna with an expression that said she had nothing left to live for. Then she heaved a sigh. “I tell.” She paused and stole a glance at the guard. “Before here I in apartment. Girl start to have baby. They take away. She not back.”

Vanna remembered they were supposed to be talking about nail polish. She spread her hands like Ivona. “Maybe they adopted out the baby and put the girl back on the street. That’s what they do. It’s their
beezniss
,” she said mimicking a Russian accent.

The guard jerked up his head. Vanna bit her lip. That was a mistake.

Ivona shook her head so forcefully her pale hair flew around her face. She tapped her lips. “No. I speak Russian. Guards talk.”

“About the girl?”

“About all.”

“What about them?”

Ivona leaned toward them. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

The smelly guard scowled and took a step forward. Vanna guessed they had only a few seconds before he forced them back to their rooms.

“The babies adopt. But the mothers…they kill. Then sell parts. To hospitals.”

Jenny blanched. “What? That’s crazy. How do you know?”

Ivona pointed to her ear. “They say can get lots money for heart or liver, so they sell. And kill mother.”

Jenny clapped a hand over her mouth.

“That can’t be true,” Vanna spit out. “You’re lying.”

Ivona threw Vanna a patronizing look just as the guard hurried over. He forced them to stand, marched Ivona upstairs, and slammed the door. Then he did the same to Vanna and Jenny.

T
hree nights later, sometime after midnight, Ivona started screaming so loudly that Vanna awoke from a deep sleep. She hurried to her door and twisted the knob. But the door remained locked, and she no longer had a nail file to pick the lock. Ivona’s screams intensified and were interspersed with curse words in both English and Russian. She was in labor.

Finally, she heard the thud of feet on the stairs, and Zoya’s voice, speaking urgently to someone. The smelly guard, probably. Metallic clinks followed as someone fumbled with the key. The door squeaked open, and Zoya shouted in Russian. Ivona yelled back and the two of them went at it, back and forth. Then Zoya thumped back out into the hall. She started muttering. Vanna leaned her ear against the door. Zoya was making a call on her cell, she thought. But with Ivona’s screams and the guard, who was now yelling as well, it was hard to be sure.

A few minutes later Zoya’s voice could be heard, now calm and quiet, talking to the guard. Vanna heard a grunt—the guard? Footsteps shuffled. Ivona’s screams reached a fevered pitch, but they seemed rent with something new. Despair, Vanna thought, and deep sorrow. Vanna heard the guard hustle Ivona down the stairs and out the door, but her cries reverberated through the house. Where were they taking her? For a moment there was a lull. Then Vanna heard another blood-curdling shriek, followed by heavy silence.