Thieves Like Us (32 page)

“My pleasure, believe me.”

“My guys said Seabrook acted surprised and outraged by the possibility that the diamonds might have been connected to drug money. They’re pointing the finger back at Banner, and it looks like there’ll be a few counter lawsuits flying back and forth. The upshot is Banner’s going to need some new lawyers. And some money.”

Elizabeth huffed and folded her arms, which Janet took to mean Banner wouldn’t be getting any from her.

Finding the diamonds gave Janet a rush as big as if she had handled the bust herself. Adrenaline flowed through her, ricocheting around with no outlet. She needed to
do
something. Nearly bouncing on her toes, she asked Ben, “What do we do about the Colombians?”

“We?
You
don’t do anything. The detectives will let them know the diamonds have been confiscated, and my bet is they won’t hang around long enough to say good-bye. I’m not sure Banner can quit worrying about them, though.” He slid a glance at Elizabeth. “Drug runners are big believers in vengeance, and they lost a lot of money today.”

With a grim look, Elizabeth gave a small shrug. Apparently Banner’s fate was his own problem.

It couldn’t happen to a more deserving guy,
Janet thought.

Still brimming with energy, she shifted her focus— one threat down and one to go. As soon as she located the rest of the Pellinni Jewels, she and Rocky could resume their very hot, very promising relationship. She wouldn’t fool herself anymore either—she had fallen for him far more than she wanted to admit. She’d fallen for all of him, from his stupid Hawaiian shirts and his easy grin to the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. The way he looked at her with so much warmth when he stroked her cheek . . . and kissed her . . . and cupped his hand under her breast . . . and pushed inside her . . .

She flushed with heat. Maybe she’d even fallen in love. Surprisingly, the word no longer made her want to run and hide; in fact, she was eager to explore just how deep her feelings were. But she couldn’t do that if Rocky refused to see her.

She could fix that. If she was able to find the diamonds, she could find the Pellinni Jewels. She just needed to decide where to start. Rocky’s shady connections were probably the perfect place, but the only ones she knew were Sleazy, who was dead, and Easy, who was in jail, and in any case not disposed toward helping her.

There was one other possibility. Rocky had mentioned a scarier than hell Russian with a fondness for him—
perfect.
Since he hadn’t mentioned the man’s name, her only clue was his innocuous-sounding place of business, the Detroit Barber Shop. Surely a place of business would have a listed phone number and address.

Rocky wouldn’t like it, but he didn’t have to know until it was all over. It didn’t require a criminal background to handle his former associates. Wits and courage had been enough for her to escape Banner’s Colombian friends. How could a Russian barber be any worse?

She cruised by the address several times, unsure where to park. Certainly not by the boarded-up building at the end of the block—the two men loitering in front of it stared each time she drove past, making her nervous. This probably wasn’t the best time to have gotten her BMW back from the body shop. It stood out in this neighborhood. The safest place might be the unkempt parking lot across the street from the barber shop. The crumbled pavement was half covered by weeds, but there were three other cars there, snuggled close to the brick wall of the bar next door. Possibly employees— the neighborhood didn’t look like it attracted much business. She parked near the other vehicles and walked across the street.

No bell tinkled to announce a new customer coming through the door, but it wasn’t necessary. The two burly men in white jackets were staring at her before she cleared the threshold. Barbers, apparently. Big barbers, with hairy forearms and humorless expressions. They might have been Mr. Universe contestants if they’d consent to a full-body wax. There was no way she’d let either of them near her with a pair of scissors.

They sat in the only two barber’s chairs, silently watching her.

She cleared her throat, wishing she’d thought this out a little better. “Hello. I’d like to talk to the owner, please.”

The man in the first chair got to his feet and approached her slowly. “You want haircut?”

She shook her head. Could this be the guy who considered himself Rocky’s friend? The heavy accent was Russian, and if she had to describe him, scary would have been one of the first adjectives that leapt to her mind. All the more reason to act unconcerned.

The man looked her over, ending with a glance at her hair. “You don’t need haircut, is short enough. Maybe just little trim.”

She folded her arms. “I don’t want a haircut. I want to talk to the owner.”

“Talk.” He took another long look up and down, probably intended to intimidate or at least creep her out. He succeeded at both. “About what?”

He probably screened visitors. The other man hadn’t moved, and she didn’t see a sign of anyone else. “About selling some jewelry.” She’d decided ahead of time that that had to be why Rocky knew him. “I’ll save the specifics for your boss.”

The last part had been intended to remind him of his place, but it didn’t seem to bother him. “Jewelry,” he repeated. This called for another up and down scan, maybe to determine if she was wearing any of the merchandise. He gestured at the chair he’d vacated. “Sit.”

So he could pin her in place while he intimidated her, or worse? “No, thanks. I’ll stand.”

His eyes narrowed for a second, like a nervous tic, as he sized her up. He didn’t look the least bit impressed. She glanced at the man who still occupied the other chair. He was a bit swarthier, and he stared back at her before giving her a small smile. He looked nicer when he wasn’t smiling. The first man moved closer, the smell of onions on his breath mingling with a heavy dose of aftershave. She held her ground.

“No jewelry here. Cut hair.” He leaned closer to examine the ends of her hair where they lay beneath her ears, and she forced herself not to flinch. “Could make shorter on neck.”

He was either testing her or teasing his prey before eating it. “I like it the way it is.” She nodded over his shoulder at the other living tribute to steroids. “Why don’t you practice on your friend, there? He could use a trim. But first, call your boss. I don’t have all day.”

A humorless smirk pulled at his mouth. “Boss busy. You wait.” He lifted his hand slowly toward her hair. “We find something to occupy us . . .”

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. His hand stopped, inches from her head. “You touch one hair and I promise you’ll be sorry.”

In silence, he looked her up and down. Giving a derisive snort, he curled his upper lip. “Puny thing. Not worried.”

She could see that was true. And she was letting him distract her from her goal. “Look, I came to make a deal. But if you don’t want my business, I’ll go elsewhere.”

He didn’t look impressed. “We cut hair. Who tell you we make deals?”

Progress—he’d asked her for information. Since it seemed he needed a name, she gave him one, hoping it wasn’t the wrong thing to say. “Rocky told me.”

She couldn’t tell if the name registered with him, but it must have meant something to the other man because he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed, watching her. They all waited in silence until he finally uttered a rapid monologue in Russian. Then listened. Then pocketed the phone.

“Da.”

She didn’t know Russian, but she understood that much, especially when accompanied by the head jerk toward the back of the store. Someone wanted her taken back there. She just couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing.

Muscle Man nodded toward the back of the store. “That way.” At least he didn’t touch her, which seemed sort of like respect.

She took a few steps, then turned to speak to him as she walked slowly toward the back. “Where are we going?” Not that it would make a difference, but it might quiet the wild fluttering in her chest.

“See Vasili.” He leered at her. “Talk.”

She was pretty sure that by
talk
he meant something other than talk.

If this was the dangerous element Rocky had wanted to keep her away from, she was ready to agree. They were heading for a door at the back of the shop, an interior room away from the big front window, away from witnesses. She fingered her car keys until one protruded from her closed fist. If she needed to defend herself, it would have to do.

The Neanderthal in the barber’s coat opened the door. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside a dim room. The door closed at her back.

An overhead light blazed to life and she shielded her face. A second later the blinding glare was eclipsed by the body of a man even larger than the two out front, but softer, his muscles comfortably hidden under a layer of fat. This had to be the guy she was looking for, even though he looked less scary than she’d expected; he was more like a dark version of Santa Claus.

The man settled his hands on his hips. “So. You know my friend Rocky.”

She squinted. “Yes. Are you Vasili?”

As if her voice had set it off, she heard wild scrambling behind Vasili. He turned, too, eyebrows lifting in surprise as someone shoved him aside.

“Janet!”

Her heart pounded. “Rocky?”

“What the hell are you doing here? Never mind, you’re leaving right now.”

Emotions swirled like a whirlpool inside her— surprise at seeing him, curiosity about his visit, and most of all, annoyance at being caught. In order to cover up the latter, she tried to distract him. “How did you get here? I didn’t see your car.”

“You weren’t supposed to. I parked in an alley three blocks down. You shouldn’t be here.” His clipped tone told her he was being more civil than he felt. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

He took her arm, but she shook him off. “No, thanks. I came on business, and I haven’t had a chance to conduct it yet.”

Vasili smiled with dawning understanding. “Ah! This short dark-hair girl?”

Rocky scowled. “Yeah, that’s her.”

The Russian drew himself up. “Introduce, please.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Janet, this is Vasili. Vasili, meet Janet Aims, the most contrary woman on the planet.”

Vasili beamed and lifted her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “My big pleasure.”

She gave him a hesitant smile. “My pleasure, too.” If Rocky thought Vasili was dangerous, she believed him, but at least the big Russian acted friendly. She was willing to go with that.

“What ‘contrary’ mean?” Vasili asked Rocky.

“Disobedient,” she answered for him, broadening her smile and winking. “I don’t like him telling me what to do.”

Vasili chuckled, causing a full-body jiggle in the flabby parts. “Women not so good at taking orders, this I know.” Casting a pitying look on Rocky, he said, “Sometimes you not so smart.”

“Ha-ha,” Rocky muttered. He directed a suspicious look at Janet. “How did you find this place?”

She shrugged. “You told me the name. I looked in the phone book.”

He was obviously unhappy that he’d made it that simple for her. “Well, you wasted a trip. What you’re looking for isn’t here.”

“How you know?” Vasili interrupted. “Don’t interfere with customer. She say she come to do business. Maybe your Janet looking for jewelry, eh?”

“I am,” she agreed.

“See?” He beamed. “I give good deal on many kinds jewelry. What you want, bracelet? Necklace?” His furry eyebrows wiggled upward. “Diamond ring, maybe?”

Rocky folded his arms. “She’s looking for the rest of the Pellinni Jewels.”

Vasili’s expression became cautious and he glanced at Rocky before telling her, “I might have them.”

“You don’t have them,” Rocky said.

“I don’t have them,” he corrected himself. Leaning toward Rocky, he said, “I thought I had them.”

“If anyone besides Janet asks, you have them.”

“Okay.” He held his hands out helplessly as he looked at her. “Honest, I don’t have them. But I have other jewelry. Better jewelry, not so much illegal.”

Ignoring Vasili’s equivocation on degrees of legality, she faced Rocky, hands on hips. “You two already planned something. I want in.”

He said nothing, and his stubborn expression didn’t change.

“Is no big deal,” Vasili told her. “We make believe I have—” Rocky elbowed him. “No plan,” Vasili shook his head. “Big nothing.”

She narrowed her eyes at Rocky, which didn’t affect his even stare one bit. Sensing Vasili was her only ally here, she told him, “You don’t have to do what he says, you know. He just thinks it’s his job to keep me safe.”

Vasili hesitated, gaze darting from one to the other. “Is not bad thing.”

“Is not fun, either.”

“Maybe dangerous for you.” One eyebrow lifted in warning.

She made a guess at his weak spot. “Sometimes there’s no joy in life without a little risk.”

“Ah! Is true,” he affirmed. “You maybe little bit Russian, eh?”

“Maybe,” she agreed, ignoring a snort from Rocky and saying a silent apology to her English and French ancestors.

Vasili beamed. “I knew this!” he said, shoving Rocky’s shoulder.

“Oh, please.” Rocky closed his eyes, as if in pain.

“But my friend Rocky is right about this thing,” Vasili added.

Rocky looked as surprised as she did.

“Bad men in this business,” Vasili went on. “Is no place for classy woman like you. Rocky is right to protect you. He is good man.”

She didn’t have an argument for that, since stubborn or not, Rocky was possibly the best man she’d ever known.

“You like him, yes?” Vasili prodded.

She darted a glance at Rocky before answering. “Yes.”

In a low voice, Rocky said, “Stay out of this, Vasili.”

“Maybe you love him, too.”

“Vasili . . .” Rocky warned.

Something inside her went soft and mushy. She couldn’t lie. “Maybe I do.”

Rocky froze.

Vasili declared, “He should buy you jewelry. I give good price.”

“He doesn’t have to buy me anything.” She met Rocky’s startled gaze. “He just has to let me be part of his life.”