Page 16 of Only for Him
He’s baiting me. “Wasa good customer? So, you already know what happened to him.”
“I keep tabs on all of my best customers.” Ivan shrugs. “Good for business. But why ask, Detective?” He leans forward, elbows on the desk. “You think I killed him?”
“I think you know what he was doing here.”
“What our customers do here inFabergeis their business.” His beady eyes stop at my chest for a second too long as he pretends to read my name. “Detective.”
“And what aboutwhothey do it with?” I change tactics. “Is that their business too?”
He lifts a brow, and I’m glad to have finally caught him off-guard. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“Why, Vanya?” I deliberately use his diminutive as an insult. “Are you afraid that if I search the place, I’ll find exactly what I’m implying?”
Ivan’s face darkens. “You got a warrant,Cunt-iano?”
Cute.
“Based on all the photos found at the good councilman’s murder scene, won’t be hard for me to pony one up.”
The threat lands and Ivan unfolds his hands. The heavy rings on his fingers clink against the desk as he leans forward on his fists.
“Like I said.” He licks his lips as he undresses me with his eyes. “What our customers do here is their business. No one cares if a politician wants to fuck girls who like to be fucked. This is America.”
Girls who like to be fucked. My skin prickles with rage. That’s what they all think, isn’t it? That the women they tear apart wanted it.
“I know the councilman accepted a lot of money from businesses here in Brighton Beach.” I press. “Which is odd, because his constituents are all in Manhattan.”
A flash of real calculation crosses Ivan’s eyes at that.
“Are political donations considered probable cause now?” he finally asks.
“When the recipient of those donations turns up dead, it’s a thread worth pulling at. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“The councilman always had a fondness for this part of the city. He grew up here after all, just off Avenue U.” He shakes his head, a pantomime of regret while his eyes continue to roam my body. “He likes to remind himself of his roots every now and then. And who are we question him when he does that?”
“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t follow up here.”
Ivan’s eyes linger for a moment before they finally meet mine. “And I wouldn’t be doingmineif I don’t ask why a Bronx detective is investigating a Manhattan murder by questioning someone in Brooklyn. Seems like the councilman isn’t the only one who’s being accused of dipping his fingers where he shouldn’t be.”
He’s stonewalling me, throwing up a smokescreen of innuendos and threats.
I want to bite right through it, reach across the desk and throttle him with my bare hands. But I don’t. His time will come.
“If you hear anything, you’ll be sure to let me know. Won’t you?”
“Of course, Detective.” He stands, all six-four of him. “Now let me walk you out. Dangerous for a cop I don’t know to be here alone at night. Especially one as pretty as you.”
I want to break his nose. “I can manage on my own.”
He steps around the desk, and closes the distance until he’s leering down the front of my uniform. He licks his lips again, and I can smell the stink on his breath.
“I insist,” he says.
On the way out, I count five cameras, three back exits, two blondes in towels, and a man in the hallway who never meets my eyes but tracks my every move.
Ivan holds the door open for me with one hand, but when I step through into the night, his other hand clamps down onto my shoulder. Rough fingers dig just hard enough to hurt, and his thumb strokes the back of my neck.
And that’s when I see my car sitting lower than usual on the street.
