Secured By The Seal

Drawing in a breath, she folded her hands on the table in front of her. “If you help me find my sister, because I refuse to believe she’s dead, I’ll help you.”

He raised one eyebrow. “You’ll help me?”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth—no twitching or smirking. At least he hadn’t laughed at her. As she took in the soft sensuousness of his lips, at odds with the intensity of his face, she had a hard time dragging her gaze away from them.

“That’s right.” She blinked and swept her hair back from her face. “I’m inside the club, and I plan to stay there. I can find out who Tatyana is and how my sister knew her. I’ll give you everything I have...and you’ll return the favor by using your resources to look for Leanna.”

Steepling his long fingers, he said, “You’re putting yourself in danger by working at the Tattle-Tale. How do you know Sergei and Irina haven’t already discovered your identity?”

“You have done your research. You know about Irina, too?”

He waved one hand. “Answer my question, Britt.”

Alexei didn’t have a detectable accent—after all, he was a born-and-bred American—but he pronounced her name with a long e sound, like Breet. She liked it. She liked everything about him.

“For one thing, Irina doesn’t know me as Britt Jansen. Like I told you before, I’m Barbie Jones from New York, nice and anonymous.”

“And if they do a search for Leanna Jansen, are they going to find her sister, Britt, who looks a lot like their new waitress Barbie?”

“Leanna went by Lee, and we have different last names. She’s Leanna Low.”

“She’s Chinese?”

“Half. After my mother split from my father, she...ah...played the field. Let’s just say that the only reason she knew Leanna’s father was Mr. Low was because of Leanna’s features.” Britt flicked her fingers in the air. “But that’s another story.”

“So the two of you don’t look much alike?”

“Not to the casual observer. Believe me, Irina has made no connection between me and Lee-Low.”

This time Alexei’s lips did twitch. “Is that why your sister uses the nickname of Lee?”

“Yes.” She tapped her phone and skimmed through several pictures with the tip of her finger. “Leanna has a quirky sense of humor and lives kind of a Bohemian lifestyle.”

She spun her phone around on the table to face Alexei. “That’s my sister. That’s Lee-Low.”

“They’ll never guess you two are sisters, not by appearance, anyway.” He studied Leanna’s picture for a few seconds, running his finger down her sister’s tattooed arm. Then he smacked the table next to the phone. “Delete this photo from your phone and any others you have of your sister.”

Gasping, she scooped up her phone and held it to her heart. “I can’t do that. I have so few pictures of her.”

“Download them to your computer and then delete them. If someone at the club finds your phone, or snoops through it or even if you’re showing them something else and they see any pictures of Lee, you’ve blown your cover.”

“My cover?” She grabbed his hand. “You’re going to take me up on my offer?”

He shrugged quickly. “I figure you’re not going to leave that club just because I tell you to, so we might as well make this deal. I don’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way—no more skulking around. The cameras are going to catch you anyway. Don’t ask any questions about Tatyana or Lee, but keep your eyes and ears open.”

She was still in possession of his hand, so she squeezed it. “I can do that. And you’ll help me find my sister?”

“I will, and I’m going to start by searching through her belongings. Do you have them, or are they still in her apartment?” He drove the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re staying in Lee’s apartment.”

“I’m not that stupid. I did pay her past-due rent and a few months in the future...just in case she comes back, but I rented myself a little bachelor in West Hollywood. I left Leanna’s apartment as I found it, except for this.” She pinched the Tattle-Tale napkin between two fingers and then stuffed it into her purse. “Like I said, it was with her bills that I took with me.”

“Have you been back to her place since?”

“No.”

“Anything else?” Their waitress had returned with a coffeepot and their check.

Alexei glanced at Britt, and she shook her head. “We’re good, thanks.”

As Britt ducked beneath the strap of her purse, she watched Alexei peel off a few bills from the same wad he’d used to tip the Russian dancer. His strong fingers moved with deftness and confidence, and for the first time since coming to LA to look for Leanna, Britt was good.

While Alexei had confirmed her worst fears about her sister, Britt now had someone on her side—a mysterious Russian American with acute knowledge and vast resources.

“Let’s go, moya solnishka.”

That was the second time he’d called her that. She had no idea what it meant and didn’t want to know, but Alexei Ivanov could call her anything and she’d follow him anywhere.

* * *

AS BRITT DROVE through her sister’s seedy neighborhood looking for a parking spot, she continued to keep one eye on her rearview mirror. Nobody at the Tattle-Tale had any reason to follow her, but she didn’t want to tempt fate. With that in mind, she drove around the block from her sister’s place and parked in front of a different, although just as crummy, apartment building.

She exited her car and scanned the block, her gaze sweeping past an older couple walking a dog and a young Latino waiting for someone at the curb, his car idling and his music thumping through the open window.

She didn’t even know what Alexei was driving. He’d walked her to her car in the diner’s parking lot and watched as she drove away. Maybe he had a gadget to materialize and then disappear. She wouldn’t put it past him after watching how he’d altered Sergei’s security footage from his phone.

Hunching into her sweater against the gloomy late-June marine layer that had spread inland, Britt loped down the sidewalk. She turned the corner and made a beeline for Leanna’s pink stucco apartment building.

She jogged up the steps to Leanna’s place on the second floor and held her breath as she peered down the row of doors leading to about six apartments. She stopped midway at Leanna’s door and inserted the key into the dead bolt first and then the door-handle lock.

Her heart skipped a beat at the whisper of movement behind her, and she spun around, her nose meeting Alexei’s chest.

“Hurry, before someone sees us.” He reached past her and pushed open the door, crowding her inside from behind.

She closed it and locked the dead bolt. Turning to face the room, she slipped the key into the pocket of her sweater.

“Is this how you left it?” Alexei took a turn around the small living room.

“Yes.” Britt’s gaze darted among Leanna’s sparse furnishings, lingering on a row of oil paintings propped up against the wall. A dark piece with red swirls was still clipped to the easel in front of the window.

Alexei pointed to the painting. “Your sister was an artist?”

“Yes, and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have left her work behind.”

“Is it worth anything?” Alexei cocked his head to the side as if trying to make sense of the chaos on the canvas.

“They could be. She told me she sold a few pieces on the street at an art fair.”

“Where did you find the bills with that note on the napkin?”