Secured By The Seal. Carol Ericson

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СКАЧАТЬ asking me?” Her voice squeaked as she drove a thumb into her chest. “This is my first night working here.”

      Alexei’s pulse jumped. A cocktail waitress snooping around her boss’s office her first night on the job?

      “Well, whatever Jerome was doing here, it’s his lucky night. Sergei’s not going to find out about it.” He selected each of the four camera views and deleted the footage.

      “Isn’t Sergei going to be suspicious that he has no footage from tonight?”

      “But he will.” Alexei made a few more selections on his phone. “Just none showing any activity in the club after hours.”

      “Whew.” She hugged the small purse hanging across her body. “Then I guess I’m glad I ran into you tonight. Thanks.”

      She made a move toward the door, and Alexei put his hand on her arm. “Not so fast. Since I saved your...behind, I want something from you in return.”

      A pink flush crept into her cheeks as she glanced at his fingers curled around her upper arm.

      He released his hold and cleared his throat. “I want to know what you were doing here tonight. You already know I’m not going to rat you out to Sergei...or the police.”

      “Police?” She put a hand to her throat. “I wasn’t here to steal.”

      “I believe you.”

      “Why should I tell you anything?”

      “Because I hold all the cards.”

      She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. A furrow formed between her eyebrows. “I’m not staying here another minute.”

      “I agree. It’s Hollywood. There’s a twenty-four-hour diner halfway down the block. Let’s talk there.”

      Taking a step back, she reached for the doorknob behind her. “I’m not going anywhere with you. You could be some crazed killer or something.”

      “If I’d wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already.” He touched the gun in his waistband. “What reason would I have to kill you? As far as I can tell, we’re on the same side.”

      “Side?” Her gaze flicked to his weapon and back to his face. “There are sides?”

      “If you’re worried, you drive over in your own car and I’ll meet you there. Do you know the restaurant I’m talking about?”

      “Half a block down on this side of the street.” She dragged a keychain from her purse and dug some putty out of the lock on the doorjamb with a key.

      He raised his eyebrows. “Is that how you got into the office?”

      “Yep.” She squeezed past him into the hallway, and her light perfume lingered beneath the smells of the club that still clung to her clothes and hair.

      She turned suddenly, bumping his shoulder as he locked Sergei’s office. “What would stop me from driving right home?”

      “The fact that I can still call Sergei and tell him to keep an eye on his new waitress.” He watched her green eyes darken to chips of glass. “And your own curiosity.”

      A pink flush washed into her cheeks. “You’re mistaken. I don’t care what you were doing here. I was just trying to find a quick place to bunk tonight.”

      “Really? You just asked me what would stop you from driving home.” He touched the end of her pert nose with his finger. “If you’re going to be in the espionage business, you’re going to have to learn to lie better, moya solnishka.”

      * * *

      FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Alexei pushed through the glass door of Mel’s 24/7 Diner. The homeless guy in the corner nursing a cup of coffee didn’t even look up. The couple at the counter, who looked as if they’d stumbled in after a bender on the Sunset Strip, gave him a quick glance and went back to stuffing their faces.

      Only the cocktail waitress looked up and eyed him as he approached her table. He’d need to get a name out of her before the end of the evening...and the truth. If she were actively working against Sergei, he liked her already. He also liked the way her green eyes glittered and changed color with every passing emotion. And that hair, like a mass of sunshine.

      He slid into the vinyl booth across from her and extended his hand. “I’m Alexei Ivanov.”

      Those eyes widened, and her mouth formed an O. “You’re Russian.”

      “I’m American, born and bred. My parents are Russian.”

      “Is that why you’re sneaking around the club?”

      “Yes and no.”

      “Are you KGB?” She put a hand over her mouth. “Is Sergei some kind of criminal?”

      Alexei toyed with the edge of the plastic menu. She was figuring this out a lot faster than he wanted her to, and he still didn’t know why she’d been hiding in Sergei’s office.

      He tapped the edge of the menu on the table. “The KGB doesn’t exist anymore.”

      The coffee-shop waitress parked herself next to their table, raising her brows and the coffeepot. “What can I get you?”

      Turning his coffee cup over, Alexei tipped his head across the table toward the other waitress.

      “Umm.” She ran her finger down the breakfast side of the menu. “Two eggs, scrambled, bacon and wheat toast...and coffee, please.”

      Alexei ordered some French toast, and when the waitress left, he hunched forward. “What’s your name, and what were you doing in the club after hours?”

      She searched his face as if trying to read signs there. “My name’s Britt Jansen, but the club knows me as Barbie Jones.”

      His pulse jumped. She’d lied to the club about her identity. Anyone who could put one over on Sergei had his respect.

      “And?” He circled his finger in the air.

      Once the waitress had poured the coffee and left, Britt dumped three packets of cream into her cup and watched the milky swirls create a pattern on the surface of her coffee. “I’m looking for someone.”

      “At the club?”

      “Yes—no.” She picked up her cup with a trembling hand and slurped a sip. “I’m looking for someone who worked at the club but doesn’t anymore.”

      “That doesn’t make sense.”

      “I’m looking for someone who—” Britt leaned forward and whispered “—disappeared.”

      The one word, hissed at him in the nearly empty coffee shop by a woman clearly afraid, made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and quiver.

      “You’re looking for someone who worked at the Tattle-Tale, СКАЧАТЬ