Page 11 of SEAL's Providence
Tempest laughed. “I’ve never heard it called that. I learned something new today, too.” She elbowed Providence. “Go on, don’t leave us hanging.”
She nodded and continued, “A man runs the salon. He’s very rude to everyone. I couldn’t figure out how he kept the shop open at all with his attitude, but the women are wonderful.
I brushed it off the first time I went, but the second time, he was screaming in Russian at a technician. She burst into tears and ran into the back. He followed her and a few minutes later, she was back at her station waiting for her next client.”
“The salon I went to outside of DC had a male running it too, but I don’t recall ever seeing him scream at anyone,” Grace said, as she clenched her hands around the edge of the island. This was probably bringing back memories of rescuing Hope.
“I gave him the benefit of the doubt at first. Ididn’t like it, though. I tried to ask my technician, but she wouldn’t talk to me about it. She changed the subject and had me pick out colors. Weird, right?”
“Yes, that is strange. Did anything else happen while you were there?” Tempest asked.
“Not that time, but the next time I went in the technician who’d been yelled at wasn’t there. They’d replaced her with a new woman who looked even younger.”
“Do you always have the same technician take care of you?” Grace asked.
“Yes, I use Mary, but I’d bet good money that’s not her real name since they speak to each other in Russian.”
“Did you ever see that other girl again?” Tempest asked.
“No, she never came back, and that was over two months ago. But that’s not the worst of it.”
“Oh no, this is going to be bad. I can tell,” Harmony whispered.
“Last week I showed up for my appointment and the guy, I think his name is John, was outside talking to someone in a black sedan. I tried to see inside, but with the tinted windows, it didn’t happen.”
“How do you know they were speaking Russian?” Tempest nodded.
“I learned it when I was younger. I don’t remember most of it now, but enough to recognize some words at least.”
“Sorry to interrupt. Go on.”
“I figured while he was outside, I might get Mary to talk to me. I wasn’t sure how much time we’d have, but I needed answers, you know?”
Her friends nodded; their attention fixed on her face.
“He was only outside for about ten minutes, but it was enough to get a little information. It turns out they’re keeping her ten-year-old daughter to make sure she cooperates. She’d used all her savings to bring them to America for a better life. Instead, she’s slave labor, and only gets to see her daughter, Aleksandra, once a week, and only if Mary doesn’t cause any trouble. Or they don’t blame her for anything.”
“Holy fuck,” Grace murmured.
“Fuck is right,” Tempest agreed.
“I’m not sure what he’s holding over the other women, and I don’t really care. We need to help them.”
“Of course we do. I’m in,” Tempest said.
Grace and Harmony nodded their heads.
“Do you know anything else?” Tempest asked.
“I did a stakeout one evening. I parked in the lot across the street to see what happens after the shop closed. I ended up going back a few times to verify.”
“You’re lucky no one saw you in that car,” Tempest said.
“Yeah, I know, but I made sure I was mostly in the dark and parked across the way. I went a few days later and the same thing happened. A white van pulled up in the parking lot behind the strip mall. John herded the women in, and it pulled away. There wasn’t enough traffic for me to follow them in my baby without someone noticing.”
“Yeah, no kidding. That bright red sports car is like a beacon.” Tempest grinned. “Okay, all joking aside. How do you want to handle this? Do you have a plan, and are we going to involve the guys?”
Tempest asked all the right questions, questions Providence had pondered and ached over since she’d found out about Aleksandra—Sandy. It tore her up that she wasn’t any closer to a solution.
