Russian Connection Read online

  Through a speaker on the corner of the motel office, soft, haunting drumbeats lent atmosphere to the camp. Every few seconds, smoke signals puffed from a mock campfire and jetted lopsided rings high into the air. Mingled with the smoke, Dayd caught a whiff of Nikki’s womanly fragrance. The awareness of her at his side sent heat through his body like rolling flames. It wasn’t just his memories of the last time they’d made love that made him want her. He was warmed by the oneness of their sharing and working toward a common goal. “This will work out just fine,” he said.

  ****

  Nikki glanced at Dayd, surprised by the huskiness in his voice. The low, sexy tone didn’t match his business-like behavior. As he unlocked the door, he kept the bag wedged between his ankles. Whatever the contents, he protected them like gold.

  He reached inside the room and flipped on a light. She entered ahead of him, amazed at the size of the unit. The tepee shape had been deceptive. The interior was roomy. She put the burgers and colas on a table in the kitchenette area. Her gaze took in the beige curtains and rug with their red and black Navajo designs, then fixed on the lone double bed. Her heart skipped a beat and heat shot through her. She glanced at Dayd. Would they make love tonight?

  He double-locked the door, and after making sure the drapes were tightly drawn, he put the carpetbag down on a low table at the foot of the bed. The tapestry material bulged from its contents. She lifted the bag, testing its weight. It surprised her how heavy it was.

  Dayd pulled a red feather from his pocket and tucked it into her hair. “The manager said to give this to my Indian princess. Supposed to bring good luck.”

  She smiled. “How romantic. And timely. We need good luck for the rescue tomorrow.”

  His expression darkened.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Just thinking about luck,” Dayd said. “Luck is an important factor, but it’s detailed planning that makes or breaks a mission.” He headed for the small refrigerator-bar. “Nightcap?”

  She folded her arms across her chest, tapped her foot, and glanced toward the bag. “You know what I want.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Do I?”

  Nikki shot him what she hoped was a scathing look. “Not that.”

  Dayd shrugged, looking amused. “Too bad.” He unlocked the bar and bent over, staring inside. His jeans tightened over firm buttocks. “Bar’s stocked pretty well. No vodka but—”

  She tore her gaze from his derriere, and yanked on the bag’s lock. “Are you torturing me on purpose?”

  He grinned. “Really curious, aren’t you?”

  “And you’re not?” She narrowed her eyes. “Is it because you know what’s inside?”

  “I have a pretty good idea,” he said. “But I could be wrong.” He poured a couple of shots of Wild Turkey from small bottles into glasses and handed one to her. She put the bourbon down next to the bag and examined the heavy-duty padlock again. “Where’s your magic breakin thingamajig?”

  Dayd pulled his lock-picking device from his pocket, and jiggled it around in the padlock.

  Nikki heard a click. Her heart raced.

  “Want something to eat first?” Dayd asked in a teasing tone.

  She glared at him. “You have a sadistic side to you, Dayd Radlavich.”

  He laughed and opened the bag, spreading the top wide. It was stuffed solid with bundles of hundred-dollar bills.

  Her breath caught. “Is this what I think it is?”

  “Mafia money. They’ll want it back.”

  “Well, let’s give it to them. Trade it for Glenda.”

  “Then you do get the significance of this—your friend’s odds just went up a notch. But we need a safe place to stash it until we’re ready to make our move. No one can know we have it. No one.”

  Alarms went off in Nikki’s head. “Not even Boris or Nazar?”

  “Not even them.”

  She put her hands on her hips and stared at him, waiting for some kind of explanation.

  “This money might test your faith in me, but rest assured, I have no intentions of keeping it.”

  “I hadn’t even considered that you might keep it.” Her uneasy feeling increased, sending knots to the pit of her stomach. “Why did you feel the need to tell me that?”

  “I never know what you’re thinking. But I won’t let you down. And in case you haven’t figured it out, I don’t have money problems.”

  She thought of his elegant suite at the Raddison, accommodations clearly too pricey to be covered by an expense account. Maybe he had plenty of money, and maybe he didn’t. As far as she was concerned, a classy hotel suite only proved he liked to indulge himself. “So, where shall we hide it?” she asked.

  “Let’s decide while we eat.” He opened the food bag and tossed her a wrapped burger. She joined him at the table, and glanced around the room. “It won’t fit in the hems of the curtains. What if we empty the stuffing out of the pillows?”

  “Not big enough, and far too obvious.”

  She made several more suggestions, but all were met with an amused shake of his head. She had to admit her ideas weren’t that great, but his weren’t any better.

  After they finished eating, he drew her to her feet and brushed a tendril of hair from her face. “You look tired. Get ready for bed. I’ll find a safe place.”

  Disappointment welled inside her. “Safe from even me?” she asked softly.

  When he didn’t answer, she pivoted and headed for the shower. She undressed and stepped under the warm spray.

  Dayd was acting strange about the money. He could take off with it, and leave her to deal with Godunov alone. She groaned, hating her doubt.

  She soaped her body, then rinsed off, taking the quickest shower of her life. Stepping out and grabbing a towel, she left the water running. Silent as a mouse, she eased the bathroom door open a crack and peeked in at Dayd. Her heart thudded against her ribs. He’d moved a table to the wall and was standing on it, stuffing money into a vent near the ceiling. The vent was a safe enough place, but why didn’t he want her to know about it? Should she confront him? No, let Mr. Sneaky think she was unaware of the hiding place.

  When he finished, he tossed the bag aside and jumped down.

  She eased the door closed again. Before she could engage the lock, the door burst open. Dayd reached inside and grabbed Nikki’s wrist in a viselike grip and drew her from the steamy room. She clamped her other hand on the upper edge of the towel to make sure it didn’t slip from around her body.

  Darn him. The man must have eyes in the back of his head.

  Dayd’s eyes glinted fire. His voice remained low and far too sexy when he said, “You can observe me better in here.” He let go of her long enough to step into the bathroom and turn off the water.

  “What gave me away, the escaping steam or the smell of soap?”

  “Never mind.” He grabbed her shoulders. “What’s going on, Nikki?”

  She gripped her towel tighter and twisted away. “I might ask you the same. Why didn’t you want me to know the hiding place?”

  “It’s safer if you don’t.”

  “Safer for whom?”

  He shot her a sharp look. “For you, dammit.”

  Nikki wished she believed that. All day she’d been so aware of him, and now, alone in this mock tepee, she felt vulnerable to his magnetism, his power. But as much as she wanted him to make love to her, she couldn’t let it happen with all this doubt bubbling inside. She had to be sure he intended to keep his vow, because regardless of the small window of time they had left together, their closeness had to be based on honesty, or she’d regret it forever.

  He went to the bar and poured a couple more drinks. He handed one to her, then clicked her glass with his own. “To trust,” he said, towering over her. His scathing tone cut deep.

  Nikki’s face flamed hot, but she lifted her chin and downed her drink. “Trust has to go both ways, you know,” she said, aware of her own nudity under the towel and his over
powering presence. Dayd’s midnight-black hair had fallen forward and curled devilishly on his forehead. He drew her into his arms. She got a whiff of his musky scent and bourbon. Heat coursed through her body. He slowly withdrew the empty glass from her hand, then caressed her cheek with a slightly calloused thumb.

  Nikki started trembling and couldn’t stop. She had to escape the heat of this man, yet she couldn’t move. Lightly, Dayd touched her lips with his own. He stroked her bare shoulders, trailed a finger along the crest of her towel, the swell of her breasts. Evidence of his readiness throbbed against her thigh. He stared down into her eyes, his own darkening with passion.

  He dropped his hands from her. “Dammit, Nikki,” he said, “this distrust thing has to stop. As much as I want to make love to you, I won’t with all this doubt between us.”

  Her head swirled in confusion. That was her line. “But you started this.”

  “I know. It was a mistake. It’s difficult as hell, but I’m going to pass on this until you learn to trust me.” He lowered his voice. “And I hope that’s soon.”

  He whirled and strode into the bathroom, leaving her frustrated and nonplused. She wanted to call to him—to tell him he was wrong. She couldn’t utter a sound. No matter how much she wanted it to be otherwise, he was right. And she didn’t know how to change that.

  ****

  Dayd showered, yanked on boxer shorts, then tiptoed into the darkened room. He crawled into bed, careful to stay on his own side. In his mind, he kept seeing her wrapped in that skimpy towel. An accidental touch of Nikki’s satiny body would be all it would take to destroy his resolve. She must have feared the same thing, because she’d placed the empty carpetbag in the center of the bed to mark the line not to be crossed.

  Hell, that was an insult. He grabbed the bag and threw it against the wall. Nikki flinched, but made no other movement. Why didn’t she say something—call him an ill-tempered bastard, anything? He could hear her soft breathing, smell her clean fragrance.

  He wanted her—wanted to feel her against him, naked skin against skin. The last time they were together her body was so warm, so inviting. He imagined them together, heat rising between them—the race to exceed her energy, her fire—then that wild soar that sent them over the edge.

  Oh, God. Dayd turned away from her back. He turned again, several times. The minutes ticked away. He felt the bed shift and give each time she turned over. Blood churned in his groin. His shaft throbbed, hot and hard. She lay only inches away. He could pull her into his arms, but principle stopped him. He needed her trust, and with her history he didn’t know any other way to prove just how much he’d give up to gain it. His only solace was that she was just as restless, just as miserable.

  At 5:00 A.M., Dayd slipped out of bed. It was still dark, but he needed to get an early start. Between wanting Nikki and worrying about the money, he’d hardly slept. Keeping Mafia money in the same room with them was insane. It had been just as insane to pass on making love to Nikki. He’d wanted to prove a point, but all he really did was deny them both the reassurance and sexual release they needed to get through the next few dangerous hours.

  He retrieved the money from its hiding place and returned it to the bag. When the bank opened, he would put it in four large safe deposit boxes. He couldn’t turn it in to the police and give up control until he had Glenda back. The cash was his ace-in-the-hole bargaining tool.

  He had to sneak into the Raddison to pick up his fire power, but first he had to see to Nikki’s needs. He didn’t want her to have any excuse to leave the room. When he returned from getting breakfast for her, he was relieved to find her still asleep. It made what he had to do easier. He quickly printed a note:

  Had to move it. But it’s safe. Trust me. Will explain later. I’ll try to be back by 2:00 P.M. With Glenda. Stay put with the doors locked. It’s almost over. Dayd.

  Nikki would be furious at being left behind, but after hours of tossing and turning, he decided it was the only way to keep her safe. With Mafia money and guns coming into play, she was better off here.

  He drove to the Raddison and slipped up the back stairwell to his suite, avoiding the lobby and elevators. In his bedroom, he changed into fatigues, then removed the padlock from the chest in his closet and withdrew his bulletproof vest and his holstered .45. For backup, he strapped his colt .25 pocket automatic to his ankle and let his fatigues drop down over it. He divided the money into four bundles and stuffed each into a pillowcase, then jammed it all into a giant cloth laundry bag. Hoisting the bag over his shoulder, he slipped out the door.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sunlight brightened the room. Although Nikki’s worry about Glenda and her unfulfilled desire for Dayd had kept her awake part of the night, she awoke full of enthusiasm, eager to get on with the rescue of her friend. Wearing nightwear of bra, panties and her favorite sweatshirt with the words I’m The Boss under a picture of her Siamese, Mitzi, she bounded out of bed, pausing at the window. The sky was an October blue, a breathtaking pastel not grayed by summer smog. A splendid day for a rescue.

  The bathroom door was closed. The silence beyond it struck her. She grabbed her jeans from the chair and pulled them on. Aromas of bacon and coffee hung in the air. A bag of food waited on the table. Her heart speeded when she spied the note propped next to it. No! Not another betrayal. She snatched up the slip of paper, barely daring to breath. Her face burned as she read Dayd’s cursive, European scrawl. Damn him! Trust me, he’d written.

  Last night Dayd had said he wouldn’t make love to her again until she trusted him without reservation. Sneaking off like this did nothing to bolster her confidence in him.

  She looked up at the vent where he’d hidden the money. The knife he’d used to remove the vent’s cover remained on an end table. He said he’d moved the money. Did he really? She had to look. She dragged the table over and stood on it. Going up on her tiptoes, she stuck the knife into the groove of one of the screws. When it turned easily, she sighed in relief. Once the screws were out, the vent plate came right off. Now she faced another problem. She was too short to see inside. No way would she let that stop her. She got a chair and positioned it in the center of the table. It worked. She peered into the empty vent.

  Now what? she wondered as she climbed down.

  His trust me, nagged at her. Why had Dayd taken the money? And why hadn’t he let her go along to talk to the nudist camp people? He knew she’d counted on going, knew it was important to her. Besides, he’d told her they should stay together at all times. What had changed?

  Had he only protected her long enough to get his hands on the money? She couldn’t just sit here and hope he was rescuing Glenda. By now he could be on a plane to Russia with the money. Maybe that was all he ever wanted.

  She slipped on her socks and shoes and combed her hair, but went without makeup. In her change purse there was only her driver’s license and a twenty dollar bill. Not even enough cash for a taxi. The fare from Rialto to San Bernardino wouldn’t be cheap.

  If she could get to her car, she could go after Dayd. She raked her fingers through her hair. Even with transportation, she’d never find him on the five hundred acres of colony land. And if he’d decided to skip the country… Somehow she had to learn what was going on.

  Nikki stared at the telephone by the bed. She quickly considered her slim options, discarding each one until she hit on Detective Sinclair. She dialed his direct line, hoping he’d be more forthcoming than the other times they’d talked.

  “Are you ready to come in?” he growled.

  “I have a question,” she said, avoiding answering his. “You said someone close to me may have murdered Luke. You cleared Dayd, didn’t you?”

  Sinclair side-stepped her query and countered in a gruff voice: “What did you remove from the locker at the airport?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “You’re in way over your head, Mrs. Brown.”

  “You tailed us. Are you protectin
g me or is this harassment?” When Sinclair remained silent, she was sure it was both. If Dayd had returned to the Raddison, the police might have picked up his trail, and if they tailed him, the detective would know where he was. She doubted Sinclair would tell her anything, but she had to try. “Do you have a tail on Dayd?”

  “Dayd has a way of losing a tail when he wants to. Last night he lost both us and the other car following you.”

  Her heart pounded. Was the man at the airport a cop, or one of Godunov’s men? What if it was one of those mafia guys, and what if he knew she was here and thought she had the money?

  “If I came in,” she asked, “what would that mean?”

  “We’d put you under protective custody and get you out of town until this is all over.”

  “What about Glenda?”

  “We have someone on it.”

  His words failed to satisfy her.

  “You’re not safe at the Wigwam Motel,” he said.

  Darn. Caller ID. She’d forgotten about that.

  “It’s only a matter of time before everyone knows where you are. You’d better let me send an officer to pick you up.”

  “Do you know where Dayd is, or not?”

  “Don’t you?” The detective sounded surprised. “Lover’s quarrel?”

  Nikki gripped the phone tighter. “What do you know about Boris Mussorgsky and a man called Nazar?”

  “Russians? Spell those names for me, Mrs. Brown.”

  “You don’t know them?”

  “Are they friends of yours?” Sinclair asked. “Or more newfound enemies?”

  She wished she knew. “Is Curt Harrison working with the police in some way?”

  “Why would you think that?” Sinclair sounded puzzled, but he hadn’t asked who Curt was. “You know him, don’t you, Detective?”

  “I know a great deal about you, Mrs. Brown, including that you have a boss named Curt Harrison.”

  That was the trouble. Everyone knew too much about her, and she didn’t know enough about any of the people she had to deal with. She’d been kidding herself to think Sinclair might tell her something to relieve her concerns. “I’d appreciate a straight answer to my questions.”