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“Thank you,” Jorge murmured.
“I don’t know who was on the balcony,” Victor went on. “We’d said there would be no one on the balcony.”
“Maybe the police have ways to find out,” Jorge suggested in a hopeful voice.
Victor Kozak waved a hand in the air. “Maybe, maybe not. We’ll keep up our own line of questioning. Anyway...”
He seemed to stop in midthought and gave his attention to them. “Please, I know that you were hired by Josef, but...it is my sincere hope that you will remain with us. We pay our regular models a retainer, which you will receive while we wait for this...for this painful situation to be behind us. That is, if you still wish to be with us.”
“For sure!” Jasmine said.
“Retainer? Me, too?” Jorge asked hopefully.
Kozak glanced over at Natasha. She must have given him her approval with the slightest nod.
“Yes, you were quite the centerpiece for our lovely young girls. We have a reputation for always having beautiful people in our clubs. All you need to do is be around, available to us, and maybe meet some people we’d like to introduce you to. Please, we will be in touch. You may come in tomorrow for your paychecks.”
They both thanked him profusely. Natasha led them down to the street.
As they were going out, Kari Anderson was just arriving. She threw her arms around Jasmine, shaking.
“I don’t think I had a chance to thank you. You saved my life!” Kari told her.
“Kari, I just made you get down,” Jasmine said, flushing and very aware that both Natasha and Sasha were watching the exchange. “Instinct!” she added quickly. “And we’re all just so lucky...except for poor Josef.”
“I know, it’s so terrible,” said the young blonde, her empathy real. Jasmine liked Kari. She was an honest kind person who seemed oblivious to her natural beauty. “Josef was always nice. It’s so sad. Terrible that people do these things today! Terrible that poor Josef was caught in it all.”
Naive—just like Mary, Jasmine thought. Not lacking confidence but unaware of just how much they had to offer.
“Come on up. We will straighten all out with you, Kari,” Natasha said. “We will be all right. Victor will see to it,” she added. “Now, you two run along and try to enjoy some downtime. Kari, come with me. We will have work for all of you—you needn’t stress.”
“See you, Kari,” Jorge said, waving.
He and Jasmine started down the street while Natasha led Kari past Sasha and up the stairs.
“I worry about her,” Jasmine said.
“I worry about all of us,” Jorge said. “I was worried about the two of us unarmed during the show. We were taking a major chance.”
“We knew there would be cops all over.”
“Right. And Josef Smirnoff is dead and bullets were flying everywhere.”
She couldn’t argue that.
“So, tomorrow, we go back for our checks. Our retainer checks,” she murmured.
“And you know we’re going to be asked to do something for those checks.”
“At least I don’t think they’re remotely suspicious of us,” Jasmine told him.
“Not yet. We’re still new.”
“Kari came in just ahead of me,” Jasmine said. “She...she was a replacement for Mary, I think.”
“Here’s the thing—what do we do when they want something from us that we don’t want to do?” Jorge asked. “We haven’t gotten anyone to admit to any criminal activity. If they ask you to be an escort, that’s actually legal. So, you go off with someone they set you up with—and that guy wants sex. What do you do? Arrest the guy? That won’t get us anywhere. And you sure as hell aren’t going to compromise yourself.”
“You may be asked first.”
“I’m pretty—but not as pretty as you are.”
Jasmine laughed. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, you know.”
“Trust me on this. You’ll be first. They’ll tread a little more lightly with me.”
Jasmine shook her head. “We have to get in more tightly, hear things and find something on them. You’re right. They’ll deny they have anything to do with illegally selling sex—I’m sure they’ve got that all worked out.” She sighed. “I guess that our FBI connection will do a better job—he’ll find out what they’re doing with the money.”
“How do we prove murder?” Jorge asked softly.
Jasmine lowered her head.
Jorge took her shoulders and spun her around to look at him. “We don’t know that Mary is dead.”
“I know,” she whispered.
She was startled when her phone started to ring; it was a pay-as-you-go phone, one purchased in her cover name, Jasmine Alamein.
She looked at Jorge. “It’s Natasha.”
“Answer it!”
“Ah, Jasmine, my darling,” Natasha said. “I’m so glad to reach you so quickly.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Jasmine said.
“We have a favor to ask of you. It includes a bonus, naturally.”
“What is it?” Jasmine asked. Jorge was staring at her, wary.
“That friend of Josef’s—Mr. Marensky. He is new in town. He has asked if you would be so good as to show him around. We’d be happy if you could do so—he came to us, instead of trying to twist our arm for a phone number. You will take him around town, yes? I said that wrong. He wishes to take you to dinner and perhaps you could show him some of the beach. And report to me, of course.”
“Yes, for sure. Where do you want me to be when?” Jasmine asked.
“He will call for you at your apartment. Please, make sure your friend is not there when he arrives.”
“What time?”
“Eight o’clock tonight.”
“Thank you, Natasha. I will be ready.”
“Wear something very pretty.” Natasha didn’t mean pretty. She meant sexy.
“I will. Thank you. Thank you!”
“My pleasure. Tomorrow morning you will come back in here.”
“Yes, Natasha.” Jasmine hung up. Jorge was staring at her. “My first date.”
“I was afraid of this.”
“She doesn’t want you hanging around when my date comes for me.”
“Like hell!”
“It’s Jacob—Marensky.”
“Oh.” Jorge breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m just a little worried,” Jasmine said.
“About Jacob?”
Jasmine laughed. “Not on that account—I’m not sure he’s particularly fond of me.”
“You were acting badly.”
“I was not—”
“You were.”
“Never mind. I’m just wondering what good it’s going to do if we just wind up watching one another.”
“Trust me. That man has a plan in mind.”
“I hope you’re right. I’m so worried.”
“Jasmine, we just went undercover. You know as well as I do that often cops and agents have to lead a double life for months to get what they’re after. Years.”
“This can’t take that long,” she said softly. She didn’t add the rest of what she was thinking.
If it did...they might well end up dead themselves.
Chapter Four (#u572d0887-8df4-5438-af8f-26ac52ec6294)
Jacob arrived at Jasmine’s apartment at precisely 8:00 p.m. She was ready, dressed in a halter dress and wickedly high heels. The assessment he gave her was coolly objective. And his words were even more so.
“You know how to play the part.”
“Hey, I’m just a naive young model willing to let a rich guy take me out for an expensive dinner,” she told him.
“Jorge?”
“They told me not to have him here.”
“What is he doing tonight?”
“Catching up on his favorite cable show,” Jasmine said. “Playing it all low.”
“At his studio?”
Jasmine nodded and turned away.
Her captain had gone along with this at her say-so. But the FBI seemed to know way more than the police. She was certain that Jacob Wolff knew all about her fake dossier and Jorge’s fake dossier, and she felt woefully late to the party.
“Hey.” To her surprise, he caught her by the shoulders and spun her around. “This isn’t a jurisdictional pissing match, you know. The FBI started planning the minute we heard from Smirnoff. You didn’t know because we didn’t inform the cops until it was absolutely necessary they knew we were in town. We had no idea you were in the middle of an undercover operation—we’ve had an eye on these guys for a while. Smirnoff coming in was the opening we needed.”
He was right; they’d both had separate operations going on. And she’d wanted this case. She’d talked her captain into it being important. The bodies in the oil drums had proved she was right. Provided they could link them back to the Deco Gang.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“I worked something like this in New York not that long ago,” he told her. “The Bureau crew I wound up working with hadn’t known about me. It’s always like that. A need-to-know basis. Fewer people to say things that might get you killed.”
“Yes, but now—”
“Now, we’re in it together. And now we need to head out. Where would you like to have dinner?”
“Wherever.”
He grinned. “I’m supposed to be a very rich guy, you know. Oh, and with the power to push ahead at any given restaurant.”
“How rude!”
“Yes, absolutely. But we’re playing parts. And we need to play those parts well.”
“How have your people gotten to so many restaurants?” Jasmine asked.
“They haven’t,” he said. “No one will say it, but everyone is afraid of the Deco Gang.”
“Ah,” Jasmine said. “Well, then, we’re in the middle of stone crab season. I say we go for the most popular.”
“Sure.”
As they left her apartment, he slipped his arm through hers. Jasmine stiffened.
“Play along,” he murmured.
“You think they’re watching?”
