is why you were able to take off however much time you needed to do your sleuthing. And where do you practice? You never told me where you lived, although I’d assumed it wasn’t LA.”
“Charlotte, North Carolina—and you never told me a lot of things about yourself.” She snapped the closet door closed.
He moved away from her and his desire to run his fingers through the soft strands of her hair. “Do you think the guilt Jerome was...expunging is a result of murder?”
“I don’t know. Would a murderer want to be caught rolling around on his victim’s bed, spreading his DNA? And what would his motive be? Leanna mentioned a bartender once or twice as being a nice guy—nothing more.”
“Maybe that’s your motive.” Alexei moved into the living room and lifted the edge of the blind to survey the walkway in front of Leanna’s front door. “All clear.”
“You mean, he was hoping for something more than friendship and Leanna wanted to keep it platonic?”
“It happens.” Must happen to Britt all the time.
“Then Leanna’s disappearance didn’t have anything to do with Sergei’s family, the Tattle-Tale or Tatyana.”
“You sound...disappointed.”
“Disappointed that my sister was murdered by a love-struck bartender instead of Russian sex traffickers? I just want her home safe. I want to hear from her. I want to know she’s okay.” Britt’s voice hitched on the last word, and she covered her face with both hands, her blond hair spilling over her wrists.
“I know. I say stupid things sometimes. I have no tact. The typical blunt Russian.” Alexei rubbed a circle on her back. “But whatever happened to your sister, I’m going to help you figure it out.”
She peeked at him through her fingers. “Even if it has nothing to do with your investigation?”
“Even then. What’s Jerome’s last name? I can start by checking him out.”
“It’s Carter. Jerome Carter.” She swirled her finger in the air. “Are you going to look him up on your magic phone that will immediately spit out his name, rank and serial number?”
“Maybe.” He took a turn around the room. “Let’s get out of here before any more surprise visitors show up. Did we leave everything as we found it?”
“We didn’t disturb anything, but I don’t know if we can say the same about Jerome. What was he doing in here before he came into the bedroom? I heard some rustling noises like paper being shuffled around.”
“Paper.” His gaze darted around the room and stumbled over Leanna’s easel. The dark, tumultuous painting now had a white corner. “Looks like he disturbed the painting on the easel.”
In three steps he crossed the room to the window and lifted the corner of the heavy paper. “There’s another painting beneath this one.”
As he held the corners of the top painting, Britt reached over him and squeezed open the clips holding it to the easel. Alexei tugged the paper, and it peeled away from the easel, revealing another, much different piece of art beneath it.
A young woman from the waist up, nude, her arms crossed over her breasts, stared back at him with dark, fathomless eyes. Alexei’s eye twitched, and his left hand curled into a fist.
“Oh, that’s different from her usual.”
“Do you see that?” He traced his finger along a tattoo on the underside of the woman’s forearm. “A snake curled around the letter B.”
“Not your typical hearts and butterflies.”
“I know that tattoo.”
“You do? What is it?”
“It’s the sign of the Belkin crime family, and this woman is their slave. This is Tatyana.”
Britt ducked closer to the painting, her hand to her throat. “A tattoo? They tattoo the women who work for them?”
Alexei almost stopped himself from correcting Britt. Why did he always have to drag her onto the dark side where he resided? Then he shook his head. She never once asked him for protection, and if they were going to find out what happened to Leanna, she had to know the whole ugly truth.
“Maybe I wasn’t clear before, Britt. Tatyana doesn’t work for the Belkins. She’s part of their sex network. They pay her in room and board and drugs.”
“And those women at the Tattle-Tale?”
“The waitresses and dancers work and get paid just like you, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Sergei was using the Tattle-Tale as a feeder system for the sex ring.”
She released the clip at the top of the easel and tugged at the corner of the portrait. “I’m taking this with me. Tatyana and Leanna must’ve been friends. She probably told my sister about the trafficking.”
“Putting Leanna’s life in danger.” Alexei refused to discuss whether or not he believed Britt’s sister was already dead. He had no doubt the Belkins would murder Leanna for her knowledge, but she may have been able to slip away before they got their chance.
As to why Leanna hadn’t contacted her older half sister and told her everything? Britt seemed to have romanticized her relationship with Leanna into something it clearly wasn’t. If he wanted to give Leanna the benefit of the doubt, which he gave anyone, maybe she was protecting Britt. But disappearing without a trace was not the way to do it.
Britt knelt on the floor and rolled up the painting. “If Belkin’s people did search Leanna’s apartment, or...packed her things to make it look like she’d gone of her own free will, they missed this painting. There’s no way they would’ve left this here for the police or anyone else to find, would they?”
“No, especially with that tattoo prominently displayed, but that means Jerome knows something, as well. He definitely looked at this painting before he came into the bedroom for his breakdown.” He put out his hand to help her up.
“Thanks.” She tucked the rolled paper under her arm. “I’m going to get to know Jerome better tonight.”
“Is that a good idea?” Alexei scratched his jaw. “We don’t know anything about him.”
“Yet. You were going to use your resources to investigate him, right?”
“Yes.”
“And while I’m at it, I’m going to get to know you better, too, Alexei Ivanov. I know you’re not an artist or a boxer.”
Of course Britt had checked him out. She wasn’t stupid, or particularly trusting...despite her angelic looks and her halo of blond hair.
“You should know by now you can trust me, or Sergei would’ve fired you before your shift tonight.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can trust you, but can you trust me?”
He narrowed his eyes, noticing for the first time that Britt’s pretty face included a stubborn chin. “What does that mean?”
“I offered to help you, too, but I have to know who you are and why you’re investigating the Belkins if it’s not the sex trafficking. And if you don’t tell me—” she dragged Leanna’s keychain from the front pocket of her jeans and dangled it in front of his face “—I’m going to have to complain to Sergei about a suspicious man who comes to the club by himself and doesn’t even watch the dancers.”
He raised an eyebrow as humor and annoyance battled in his face. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not kidding. You know everything about me and what I’m doing here, and you just keep tossing