Never Look Back (9 page)

"You're a splitting image of your mother, Dana. You're in every magazine and commercial. Somebody must have put two and two together," U.S. Marshall Collins said. "We suspect your father tried to reach your mother before he died.”

Dana covered her face. "Those men who kidnapped me, who are they? They've also taken my mother and they killed those other women."

U.S. Marshall Collins asked. "Can you tell us what happened when you came back to New York after your father's death?"

"I was mourning and didn't want to go out. I declined invitations to holiday parties and modeling projects. I couldn't bring myself to move on."

"Did anything suspicious occur?" U.S. Marshall Adams asked.

"Well, aside from my lawyer giving me my father's letter, I did receive a fruitcake from Ginny's Delights. I left the fruitcake and took a walk in Central Park. That's where they kidnapped me."

"Ginny's Delights?" U.S. Marshall Collins frowned.

"Yes. And I found their business card inside the drawer in that house, the one I was kept in."

"Ginny's Delights is right down the street. We usually have coffee or desserts. That means this man has been following us," Agent Wayne said.

"You guys are not clear. First you tell me that it's a Russian mob, and now you tell me it's a man. What's the real story here?"

U.S. Marshall Collins cleared his throat. "Your biological father, Anton Markovic, passed away a year ago. He had been searching for your mother and never found her. We learned from an anonymous tip that before he passed away, he discovered he had a daughter and had been hoping to track you down until his heart gave way."

"Great. In one day, I find out that my mother is part of the WITSEC, my father is not my real father, and my biological father is part of the Russian mob and is now dead. Isn't that enough?" Her tummy growled, but she couldn't imagine eating after what she'd been through. Her life would never be normal again. "If he's already dead, why are they still after my mother?"

"He has a son."

"A son?" She paused. "I have a half brother?"

"Vladimir."

She swallowed hard trying to process all the information. "My half brother."

"Technically, he's not. Your father adopted Vladimir when he was five." U.S. Marshall Collins said. "You don't have to be afraid. We are here to help you."

Dana shook her head. "You're not here to protect me. You're going to strip my life like you did with my mother. Do you know what you did to her? To me? Do you know how hard it is for me to be close to people fearing that I can lose them? I've never had a long relationship." She broke down crying. "I travel a lot, I keep a bright smile on my face, but nobody knows the emptiness I feel inside."

"I'm sorry," U.S. Marshall Adams said.

"Tell me, U.S. Marshall Adams, did you grow up with a mother? Did you have somebody kiss you goodbye before you went to school?"

U.S. Marshall Adams looked away.

"You're never going to give me back the years I lost with my mother. You destroyed my life, and nobody, not even my father, had the decency to tell me the truth. How dare you!"

"We're very sorry, Dana," Agent Raymond said.

She glared at them. "So this is it? You're going to control me like you did with my mother?" You said you would protect her, but after all these years, they've found her."

"We did the best we can."

"Really? Up 'till now, you haven't been able to bust the Russian mob." She stomped her foot. "Why is that, U.S. Marshall Collins? And what makes you so sure that you can protect me?"

Moments later, despite desperate pleading from Dana, the U.S. Marshals didn't say a word as she chewed her tofu in the same office. What lay in store for her? She lifted her chin and stared at them. "Why are you keeping me as a prisoner?"

U.S. Marshall Collins spoke softly. "We are here to protect you."

“You keep saying that.” Tears prickled her eyes. How she wished she'd hugged and kissed her mother. Bile rose in her throat. It would be a miracle if she saw her mother again. She hated her biological father, and now her step-brother was trying to finish the job. He would not just kill her mother. He would kill her as well.

Agent Wayne sat across from Dana while Agent Raymond leaned against the wall.

"We have a few questions to ask you about your friend, Rob Hanson," Agent Wayne said.

"Rob? Is he in trouble?"

Agent Wayne exchanged glances with Agent Raymond before facing Dana. "A Russian young lady named Stacy Kestav is missing."

"We don't have any reason to believe Rob's responsible for Stacy's disappearance, but he is now involved since he came searching for you" Agent Raymond added, handing Dana a business card.

Dana's heart sank when she read Ginny's Delights.

"Rob went to your apartment, and they told him about the fruitcake."

"And the good friend that Rob is, he went to Ginny's cafe to get some answers," Dana finished.

Circling the table, Agent Raymond nodded. "Stacy visited his studio and he took photos of her."

Dana shrugged. "Rob's harmless. He's a photographer and agent."

"Nude photos." Agent Wayne lifted his eyebrows. "I don't know how well you know your friend, but he admitted to having sex with Ms. Kestav."

“I don’t believe you.” Since when did Rob have casual sex?

"He hasn't stopped looking for you," Agent Wayne said.

Tears spilled down Dana's cheeks. "Can't you tell him I'm alive? He's my best friend. Is that too much to ask?"

Agent Raymond's eyes swept the carpet.

“Please,” she begged.

But the U.S. Marshalls escorted Agents Wayne and Raymond to the door and murmured, "Thanks again for rescuing Dana. We will take care of her from now on."

"I know you need something from me." She glared at both U.S. Marshalls. "Unlike my mother, you're not going to manipulate me. We will do this my way."

U.S. Marshall Collins grabbed a stack of folders from his desk and returned to the couch. He opened each file. "This is Natalia Akulov. She was thirteen when she was taken away from her family in Russia and smuggled to America." He opened another folder. "This is Valeria Bogdanov and her twin sister Valentina, both fifteen, and this—"

"I've seen enough."

"Anton was their leader, but there are others involved in this filthy business and we're trying to track them down. We know they have an underground headquarters in Manhattan and we're this close to busting them, but we have to plan this well."

"Why can't you just kill them all?" she countered.

"We're talking about a mob here. They come in packs, and until we track everyone involved, there's no guarantee they will stop," Agent Adams said.

"What's in it for me? Will I get my life back? Will I get everything that I lost?"

U.S. Marshall Collins pursed his lips. "We are here to protect you."

"You keep saying that."

U.S. Marshall Collins handed Dana a scrapbook.

"What's this?" She flipped through the pages where she saw photos of her modeling career. As she reached the end of the page, she saw nine words written in bold with a red sharpie: Why didn't you tell me we had a daughter?

Dana tossed the scrapbook on the floor.

"After your mother left, she was in the run. The Markovic clan always came close. She must have lived in forty cities before the mob found this scrapbook."

Pain shattered like a broken glass in the inside.

"Now that you know the truth, Dana, we’re requesting that you cooperate with us."

Dana didn't budge. This wasn't a request. More like a command. Dana would just be like her mother, living in fear and looking over her shoulder if someone was chasing her. She knew how this would all end—always be alone, surrounded by strangers, living a fake life, never getting close to anyone.

What difference did it make? Her life was over.

U.S. Marshall Collins unbuttoned his suit and sat across Dana. "I know this is a huge change for you."

Dana glared at him. "Quit the small talk and let's get down to business. Just tell me what the next step is."

"Very well." He folded his arms.

Dana faced him, gritting her teeth. "And if I'm in this game, I need all the info I can get about this Vladimir—his job, what he likes, where he lives, and what keeps him awake at night."

He crossed his legs.

"For now, we are trying to track him down."

"You mean you don't have any info on him?"

The U.S. Marshall looked away. "We only recently discovered Anton had a son. There is no record of him, no paper trails."

Anguish spat on her insides. "How am I supposed to protect myself?"

He stood. "I can assure you will be protected."

"So where are you taking me? What's my new name and my disguise?"

He handed her another folder. "New Mexico. You're a librarian, married to a construction worker named Jake, and have a six-year-old daughter. Your new name is Lucy Mitchell."

"And don't worry about Jake. He too is part of the WITSEC program so he knows the drill," U.S. Marshall Adams said.

Staring at her new social security, driver’s license, and passport, Dana flashed her heart-stopping smile, her disguise. Something burning crept inside her then burst out as laughter. It felt good to laugh after days of trauma.

The two U.S. Marshalls exchanged glances. She didn't care.

***

Agent Felicia placed a fax on Agent Kerry's desk. "Check out what the media's saying, that Dana Simmons has been spotted and just needed time to grieve her father's death."

Agent Wayne pushed the paper aside. "Heard about it on the news this morning. The WITSEC will have a difficult time pulling this off. She's famous, and it wouldn't be difficult to recognize her." He reached for the picture frame of his two daughters. Thank God they were safe. He wouldn’t wish that to happen to them.

Felicia opened the window and stared out. "I feel bad for Rob Hanson. He's posted flyers on every block that she's missing. This is a man determined to find her."

He rustled the papers on his desk and punched a number on the phone. "He's attracting more attention to the mob. We need to keep a closer watch on him, you don’t want the mob to harm him."

***

Flicking his cigarette, Rob was disgusted to learn from the news earlier that morning that Dana wasn't missing. The media indicated that tourists in France spotted her recuperating from the death of her father. That certainly didn't sound like Dana, and he didn't buy it.

He crossed the street, posted his last flyer, and entered Burt's cafe to meet the two FBI Agents.

Agent Wayne raised his hand. Rob approached the table and removed his leather jacket.

The waiter brought in coffee for the three of them.

"Thanks for coming to meet us in short notice," Agent Wayne said.

"My lawyer doesn't want me speaking to you guys without him." He lit a cigarette. "But I've nothing to hide and I know something's not right. I'm her agent.”

"We’re aware of that." Agent Wayne said. "That's why we wanted to meet you."

Agent Raymond showed Rob the note from Dana’s father.

Rob read the note, his breathing becoming more ragged.

"Is everything all right?"

Rob bit his lip. "The day Dana disappeared, she told me about this note."

"And why didn't you mention this to Officer Jones or Detective Schultz?"

Rob cracked his knuckles. "Dana told me this in confidence, and I thought if I mentioned this to the police, her life would be in danger."

"Her life already is in danger. You shouldn't withhold information from us."

Rob grabbed his jacket and stood. "My lawyer was right. I should have never come here. You can't keep harassing me like I'm the bad guy here. You should be looking for the killer of those four women."

"Wait." Agent Raymond held up her hand. "Please seat down. We aren't here to accuse you."

"We want to help you, and maybe you can
help
us too," Agent Wayne added.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Rob plopped himself onto the chair. "I hope this isn't some plot to frame me."

Agent Wayne continued, "We know you're in a difficult situation, but we need somebody determined like you."

"We believe the kidnapping of Stacy Kestav is connected to the four women who were murdered and also to your friend, Dana Simmons."

Rob straightened his shoulders, relieved. "Thank you. That's what I've been trying to say all this time, but nobody listens to me."

***

Vladimir Marcovic watched the three monitors in his office, the video of young women engaging in sex. Shifting his gaze to his father's portrait hanged on the wall triggered a distant memory when he was six years old.

"Come here, Vladimir," His father had pulled him to sit on his lap as they sat in the restaurant they owned. Nobody was there except for a lady singer auditioning. "Isn't she beautiful?" His eyes had beamed in admiration. "When you grow up, you need to find a woman like that."