“That’s a rare skill.” Sloan watched the stage as Zamora moved to the lectern. She stiffened as his left hand drifted over Michael’s shoulder in passing.

“He’s quite charismatic, isn’t he?” Talia observed, leaning lightly against Sloan’s arm. She wanted to set her off. Women like her could be thrillingly unpredictable when ignited.

“Not my type,” Sloan said through gritted teeth.

“No,” Talia said with a laugh. Her breast brushed Sloan’s arm and her nipple tightened so quickly she almost gasped. “I don’t imagine he is.”

“Friend of yours?” Sloan asked.

“Not precisely.” Talia smiled as the woman onstage looked over at Sloan, then took Talia in with a curious expression. Curiosity. Not jealousy. That was interesting. “But she’s a friend of yours.”

Sloan finally focused on Talia, her expression moving from distant politeness to intense scrutiny. “More than a friend. But you knew that, didn’t you?”

Talia sipped her wine to hide her smile. Oh, this woman was very good. Very very good and very very exciting. She would have to be careful. “I made a calculated deduction. You’ve been watching her all night.”

• 189 •

RADclY fFe

“Does that mean you’ve been watching me all night?”

“Oh my. Am I that obvious?”

“No. Not at all.”

Talia looked toward the stage, breaking eye contact. She wasn’t usually concerned with what others could read in her expression, but she feared Sloan might see more than she intended. She was painfully aroused and she did not want Sloan to realize she had an advantage.

“He seems quite taken with her,” Talia said, then continued as if she didn’t hear the sharp breath Sloan sucked in. “But then, that’s understandable. She’s quite beautiful.”

“You can give him a message for me,” Sloan said. “Tell him it would be dangerous for him to even think about her, let alone touch her again.”

“If I knew him that well, I would surely give him your message.”

Talia slid her fingers around Sloan’s forearm. “But I do know him well enough to know that he always gets what he wants.”

“Not this time.”

Her fingers shifted to Sloan’s hip, and down. She slipped her card deep into the left front pocket of Sloan’s tuxedo pants, her fingers gliding inward, stopping just short of the point of flagrant groping. “If he gets to be a nuisance, call me. Maybe I can help.” When she withdrew her hand, she let her fingers drift upward over Sloan’s abdomen. “Of course, you can call me anytime.”

“I didn’t get your name,” Sloan said.

Talia reluctantly stepped back, finished her wine, and set her glass aside. “It’s Talia. You have my number. I’ll look forward to your call.”

v

“Is she all right?” Catherine slipped her arm through Rebecca’s and tilted her head toward Sloan.

“I don’t know.” Rebecca frowned, studying Sloan from across the room. The crowd was breaking up, a few people lingering in small clusters, trying for one last connection, one last vote, one last dollar.

Sloan was headed straight through the throng for Michael. “She’s strung pretty tight. I thought she was just worried about Michael’s health.”

“But now you’re not sure?”

• 190 •

Justice for All

Rebecca shook her head. “I can’t read her, which means she doesn’t want me to.” She clasped Catherine’s hand. “What do you think?”

“I think everyone is under a great deal of pressure. I saw Sloan at the hospital when Michael was injured. She was very badly shaken.

She’s understandably frightened and trying not to be.” Catherine sighed.

“She’s not all that different than you. She doesn’t know she doesn’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Every cop is like that. And she’s a cop, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”

“I know.” Catherine turned aside for a few seconds to say good night to the deputy mayor, then she placed a hand on Rebecca’s arm.

“Are you coming home with me?”

“I think we’re done here for the night.” Rebecca watched Zamora move toward the exit, followed by his entourage of bodyguards masquerading as business associates. He stopped every few feet to speak with some highly placed official. The deputy mayor. The district attorney. The head of one of the local political parties. “We’ve seen what we came to see.”

“Then I’m going to take advantage of the few hours when you’re not working and I’m actually awake. Let’s go.”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Does that include taking advantage of me?”

Catherine laughed. “Most definitely, my darling.”

• 191 •

• 192 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER NINETEEN

Dell was always relieved to find that Irina hadn’t taken off. But then, where would she go?

“Sorry I didn’t think of this sooner,” Dell said, setting a large cardboard box down by the foot of the mattress. She noticed a neat stack of magazines and newspapers nearby. Some in English, some in Russian. She knelt down and started opening the box. “You read English?”

“Yes.”

“I guess that’s a dumb question. You speak English.” Dell shook her head. “Sorry.”

“It is all right.” Irina walked to the refrigerator. “There is beer. Do you want one?”

Dell glanced over her shoulder, surprised when she saw Irina holding up a bottle of the brand she drank. Irina wore navy slacks that hugged her legs like skin and a pink V-neck tee with little sequins along the neck. The shirt ended an inch or so above her waistband. Jewelry of some kind winked in a navel piercing. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She usually didn’t. Her breasts were a lot bigger than Sandy’s. Dell looked away. “Beer would be great. Thanks. Did you have enough to eat?”

“I am fine here.” Irina placed the bottle on the floor next to Dell and curled up on the mattress nearby. She popped her head on her elbow and watched Dell work. “You brought a television?”

“I thought you might be bored.”

“We are not going out tonight?”

“I thought after last night we should lay low for a little bit.” Dell sat back on her heels. “Did anything happen today? Did anyone call?

This guy Olik, he has your cell number, right?”

• 193 •

RADclY fFe

“Yes, although before he would not call me. He would call Yuri.

When he wanted the girls for something special.”

Dell tried not to let her disgust show. “When he wanted them for what? You took care of scheduling them at the club—to dance, right?”

Irina reached for Dell’s beer and took a swallow, then put it back on the floor. “A van would come and bring the girls to Ziggie’s and home again after. They were always guarded. That was usual. But sometimes he would want them for parties. Or to make a movie.”

“What did you tell them? How did you get them to do this?”

“I told them the truth,” Irina said. “That if they did not obey they would never have a chance to be free.”

“So why hasn’t he called you?” Dell carried the television across the room, placed it on the kitchen counter, and plugged it in. “Why hasn’t he come after you?”

“With men like this, it is all about games in the mind,” Irina said.

“He will not want me to think I am important. He will want me back, but he will make sure I understand it is because I belong to him, like his car or his dogs. Maybe he thinks I am going hungry, maybe he thinks I will be frightened alone. Maybe he wonders about my new boyfriend.”

“You think he knows about us?” Dell leaned against the counter and crossed her ankles, her arms braced on either side.

Irina smiled. “He does after last night. I have fucked boys for the job, but I have never had a boyfriend before. He will be suspicious.”

“The bartender has seen us together before. He knows I was trying to get with you.”

“Yes.” Irina seemed to focus on Dell’s crotch. “They know I was playing with Mitch.”

“That’s good, then,” Dell said, acutely aware of not packing. She felt naked even with her clothes on.

“Very good.” Irina’s gaze drifted back up to Dell’s face. “When will we go out again?”

“Tomorrow or the next night. Unless something happens before then.” Dell thought it was time to bring up the other items they had to deal with. “We want you to talk to someone—a doctor—about these men, about how you lived. What they did. Where you went with them.”

Irina’s expression went blank. “A prison doctor?”

• 194 •

Justice for All

“No. Just a doctor to talk to. A therapist.”

“No drugs.”

“No,” Dell said quickly. “No. Only talking. About the girls. About you. About things that have happened. It might help us figure out where to look for them, and for the other girls. And your sister.”

“Where is this doctor? I won’t go to the police.”

“I’ll take you to see her. At her office, okay?”

“Her?”

Dell nodded. “It’s okay. You can trust her. I promise.”

Irina studied her for a long time. “You will be there?”

“If you want.”

“When?”

“Monday.”

“Will I see you before then?”

“Sure,” Dell said. “I’ll come by tomorrow sometime.”

“Then I will talk to your doctor.”

v

“Hello?” Sandy took a cell phone call as she climbed out of a cab at the corner of Vine and Delaware Avenue. She handed the driver ten dollars and motioned with her fingers for him to give her back three.

“Lily said you were looking for some extra action,” a female voice said.

“Darla?” Sandy thought she recognized the soft Southern accent of a black girl about her age. She didn’t know her very well, only that she had a story like all their stories. A home she didn’t want to talk about, a family that didn’t miss her, and the new family she’d made with other girls like her, living in squats or four to a room in crowded walk-up apartments. But they were making it. And they were proud of that.