best served cold Page 3

  Regina felt a little bit nervous about what she was going to do. After all, there was the fear that if anybody figured out what she was doing, she would be stopped, by any means possible. She fully expected that her life would be in danger if she was found out. So, she was going to have to summon the actress in her. The young girl who starred in school plays in junior high. She learned techniques back then that she was going to have to employ now.

  Sergei arrived at the restaurant. The Gaslamp Strip Club, where they agreed to meet, was a steakhouse in the Gaslamp District of San Diego. The restaurant was a perfect blend of old and new. The walls were composed of exposed brick, and the ceilings were a good 30 feet high. Black leather circular booths surrounding red tables were lined up along a glass wall, giving the place a retro feel, while the tables in the middle of the hard-wood floor restaurant were composed of light wood with white chairs that sported rectangular backs with a hole cut in the middle of them. The bar was a typical bar, but the chandeliers were in the shape of enormous snowflakes. The chandeliers looked almost like a mobile, with uneven spokes coming out in the middle of the chandelier, and each spoke had a small light on the end of it. The menu at this place was that of a typical steakhouse, and the prices range front $18 for a skirt steak to $30 for a 20 ounce porterhouse steak. All sides were extra, three for $19.

  This place was a tad fancy for Regina. She was a burger and fries girl - In and Out was her favorite restaurant. When she couldn’t get into In and Out, which was often the case, as their lines were hellacious, her second favorite place was Five Guys burger and fries, and, when she was feeling particularly fancy, she might go to the Burger Lounge in the Hillcrest area. The fries with the ranch dressing there were to die for.

  But this place, she had to dress up a little. And that was one thing that she did not like to do. Just as she preferred burgers and fries to overpriced steaks, she preferred jeans and T-shirts to dresses and heels. But she also knew that Sergei, even though he was nothing but a soldier in his organization, was a classy guy. He was the kind of guy who liked dark jazz clubs instead of loud nightclubs, telling Regina that she hadn’t lived until she saw Esperanza Spalding or Gregory Porter performing live. He liked his martinis dry and neat, his steaks medium rare, and his women in tiny black dresses with cleavage.

  She shifted in her seat, and looked around. As usual, she saw admiring glances from men around the room. Not that she cared about that, because she didn’t. Men were not on her agenda, and never were on her agenda. Even Michael, who was her boyfriend for many years, was not anybody who she really wanted to be with. He was simply a means to an end, and he took care of her when she needed somebody to take care of her. She also worked for him, as a prostitute, and he beat her regularly, which led her to finally kill him. But he was still the only man in her life who she had ever considered to be even a kind of boyfriend, and that was exactly the way she wanted things. She knew that the reason why she did not get involved with men was because she had never had a good encounter with one. From her mother’s boyfriends who hit on her, one of whom raped her, to Michael, her experiences with men had not been positive. She knew how she looked. When she looked in the mirror, she saw ice green eyes, high cheekbones, flawless olive skin, thick dark hair, and full lips. She understood that men found her beautiful, but that did not matter to her. Men were people who she could utilize, and that was that.

  Sergei finally arrived at the restaurant. Sergei was tall and fit, about 6’3”, with sandy blonde hair and big blue eyes. His face was angular, with a strong jaw line, and a perfect Roman nose. With his bow-shaped lips and light blue eyes, he almost resembled a young Paul Newman, albeit much taller than Paul Newman. With his enormous dimples and thousand watt smile, Sergei was quite the head turner himself. If Regina was inclined to date anybody, she would probably date a guy like Sergei. Yes, he was involved in some unsavory business with the Ivanov club. But he was not a sex trafficker, per se, but, rather, was a guy who knew how to talk women into working for this club. Of all the jobs he could have done for the Ivanov family, his was the least objectionable.

  He saw her, and made a beeline for the table where she was sitting. She stood up, and she gave Sergei a purposeful and sincere hug. “Sergei, dude, what’s going on?” she asked him as he hugged her.

  He laughed at her calling him “dude.” “Well, chick, I was wondering the same thing. When you called me, I got very excited.” He nodded his head as he looked Regina over. “You know, Regina, the girls at my club age out at the age of 25. But I could certainly make an exception for you. You’ve kept yourself up beautifully.”As he said that, he was staring at her legs and her ass, both of which were firm from running 6 miles a day. And then he started staring at her cleavage, natural double D’s that were perched above an enviable tiny waist.

  She laughed. “No, thank you. I’m out of the biz.” She took a sip of her Bloody Mary, which was the perfect blend of Keitel One vodka, tomato juice, black pepper, Tabasco sauce, and other secret ingredients that she could not place. “But, I’m in real trouble. I got gambling debts. I got a marker at a casino in Vegas, I’m not going to tell you which one, so don’t ask me, but I got a marker. I got some Italian goombahs who have my number. If I want to live to see Christmas, I got to make some serious cash fast.” This was the story that she and Avery had cooked up to show why Regina would want to work for Carl. Sergei knew that Regina was an investigator, so he would naturally be suspicious if Regina asked to work for Carl. However, if she told him that she had serious financial issues, so serious that she might lose her life because of them, it would almost make sense for her to work for Carl.

  Sergei nodded his head. “Okay. So, you want to work for the Ivanov club, yes? Like I say, the girls age out at 25, but I would make an exception for a woman who looks like you do. I think you may be very popular in that club.”

  She leaned forward, giving Sergei a good look at her large and surprisingly perky rack. She was going to have to seduce him in order for him to say yes. That turned her stomach, because she hated manipulating men or anybody else, but it had to be done. He leaned forward as well, giving her a whiff of the cardamom, cinnamon, and absinthe in his high-dollar cologne.

  “No. No I don’t want to work for that club,” Regina said. “I’m interested in Carl Williams.”

  Sergei started to laugh. “Carl Williams? Regina, you could certainly pass for 25, so you could work for the Ivanov club, but, I’m sorry, with those breasts, no way you would be able to pass for under the age of 17. Nice try, though.”

  Regina sighed. Did he really think that she was going to try to pass for a child? How stupid did he think she was? She wanted to say, no idiot, I’m talking about becoming a house mother. But she decided to keep her calm. “No. I want to become one of the girl’s house mothers. I know that there’s always about 20 girls living there at the Williams compound, and I know that there is at least one house mother. Somebody who makes the girls feel comfortable, somebody who they could look up to, and somebody who can gain the trust of runaway girls who can be brought in. I know that Carl employs women for that role.” It was important that the house have a designated house mother, because, without one, the girls in the house tended to leave. They needed somebody to be their mother figure, because most of them did not have a mother figure at their home, which was the reason why they went to work for Carl in the first place, and they hungered for an older woman to guide them.

  Sergei shook his head. “Carl already has one of those. A house mother.” Then he looked at her. “But you know, Regina, if I told Carl that you would do other services for his clientele – some of them want a real woman along with their children – he probably would hire you.”

  Regina sighed. Was this how it was going to be? Was she going to have to use herself as bait? She didn’t know if she could go through with this. But then again, it was important. It was important that she do all she could to bring down this hell house.

  She leaned back in her cha
ir, thinking about how her feet hurt. I can’t wait to get home and get into a bathtub and take these damn shoes off. How did women wear these shoes every day? If she lived to be 100, she would never understand why women put themselves through such agony just for fashion. She surreptitiously dangled one of the shoes off of her feet, and rubbed the arch.

  Sergei was still watching her, an amused look on his face. “So, should I tell Carl that you’ll entertain his clients, if he needs you to?”

  Regina knew that this might be the only way that she would be able to get this job. “Yeah. Go ahead and tell him that.” She was just going to have to find a way to get out of it once push came to shove, because she wasn’t doing it any more. Her days of being a sex worker were behind her, and that was how she wanted it.

  The waiter came around, refreshed both their drinks, and took their orders. Regina got the filet mignon with a baked potato and salad, while Sergei got the porterhouse with fries and the white truffle mac & cheese. Regina heard him ordering the white truffle mac & cheese, thought that sounded good, and changed her order from a salad to that. She wasn’t on a diet, so why not live?

  Sergei leaned forward, giving her another whiff of his high-dollar cologne. “So, after this, you want to go to a smoky jazz club? Seven Grand is the place that I like to hang out, but maybe you’d like to invite me to your place. Or maybe we can go to my place? My condo is on the waterfront, I think you’d love it.”

  Regina was going to have to take a rain check on that. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea about what she was after. At the same time, she did not want to insult him, because she needed him. Without him serving as the link between her and Yuri, there was no way that she would be able to get a job in the Carl Williams circle. She was going to have to finesse it delicately, to say the very least.

  “Let’s just keep this friendly, okay? Sorry, man, I don’t like to shit where I sleep.”

  She could tell that Sergei, being from Russia, was not familiar with that particular colloquialism. “What you mean, you don’t like to shit where you sleep?”

  “I mean I keep my business contacts strictly business, and my personal contacts strictly personal. You, you’re a business relationship for me. Sorry, I don’t want to bring sex into it.”

  She hoped that that was good enough, and that he was not insulted by her turning him down. However, she could see in his face that that was not the case. He looked disappointed, to say the very least. “Well I guess that you don’t want me to talk to Yuri after all, do you?”

  She was just going to have to throw something out there, and hope that it did the trick. “Okay, the truth is I just don’t like men.” That wasn’t really a lie. She didn’t swing to women, although she had considered it a time or two in the past, but she also really didn’t like men. At least, she didn’t like men in the romantic sense. She had buddies, friends who were guys. A lot of guy friends. But that was as far as it went.

  At first, Sergei looked stunned. Then he shook his head. “Oh, what a waste that is. To each his own, I guess.” Then he got a wicked look on his face. “Or maybe I could watch some time?”

  Don’t push your luck, buddy. She decided to change the subject. That was just the easiest thing to do. “So, you seen any good movies lately?”

  He got the hint. But she was still unsure that he was going to go to bat for her. She hoped that he would, but she was shutting the whole romantic situation down, so she had no idea.

  She just had to wait and see.

  Chapter 3

  To Regina’s relief, Sergei apparently did put a good word in for her, because she got a phone call from Yuri himself that Monday, asking her to come into his office for a formal interview. He wanted her to talk to both him and Carl, and he wanted her to go to Carl’s home in Del Mar.

  So, Regina got dressed up in a dress for the second time in four days. This was getting to be a bad habit, as far as she was concerned, but she knew that, just like with Sergei, Yuri was going to be a visual person. He was just going to be more likely to hire her if she looked sexy. So, once again, she squeezed into the little black dress that was cut down to there, and up to there, and slipped on a pair of Christian Louboutin peep toes, the same black monstrosities that almost crippled her the night before.

  Before she left, she emailed Christian, the lawyer who worked with Avery on the Esmeralda Gutierrez case. Christian was a very skilled computer hacker, and she knew that his skills were going to come in handy in the situation. She was going to have to find a way into Carl’s computer system, because she knew that she was going to have to bring receipts, in order for a court case to go forward.

  “I’m headed over to Carl’s, wish me luck,” she texted him.

  “Luck,” was his one-worded text back to her.

  Then she went out and got into her 10-year-old Prius, and started down the road.

  Del Mar was a seaside town, some 30 miles up the coast. Regina could get to Del Mar sometimes within an hour, if there was absolutely no traffic, but that was never the case in San Diego. Rush hour started around 6 in the morning and went all the way through 10 AM, Monday through Friday. In the evenings, it started at 3 and went through 7 o’clock. Especially on the Five, there was a lot of gridlocked traffic on the way up. Not that Regina cared about that – as an investigator, traffic was one thing that she was used to, to say the very least. But it always sucked anyways.

  She got to Carl’s about an hour and half after she left her own house, seeing that it was 9:30. Her appointment time with Carl was at 9 AM. She cursed herself as she got to the long and winding driveway that led to Carl’s compound. There was a guard that was standing by the enormous wrought-iron gate, and she had to show him her driver’s license before he would let her in the door.

  “Go on in, Carl’s expecting you,” the armed guard told her without a smile. The guy was carrying an AR-15, and he looked like somebody who you did not want to mess with.

  So this is how it’s going to be. The guy was obviously a control freak, not that she blamed him. After all, he was running an enormous pedophile ring. He really didn’t have to be too afraid of getting prosecuted for what he was doing, and she still wanted to find out exactly why this was, but he obviously was going to take every precaution to make sure that nobody knew what he was up to.

  The house itself was about 10,000 square feet. It was perched on the edge of a cliff, and it was a modern design, all glass and angles. When she walked in, seeing the marble floor and 30 foot ceilings, she felt a bit out of place. This was definitely not her scene, but she knew that it was evidently the scene of a lot of people. She was astounded just a little that, in a place such as this, a billionaire’s mansion, there could be such a house of horrors.

  She was led to the back of the house, where there was apparently an open aired office that looked out onto the enormous kidney-shaped pool. Carl stood up as she walked into his office. He looked her up and down appreciatively, and held out his hand. “Carl Williams,” he said as he shook her hand. “You must be Regina Baldwin. And this is Yuri Ivanov.” He motioned to an older man that was sitting in an enormous leather wingback chair right next to Carl’s 10 foot glass desk. “Please, take a seat.”

  Carl was a handsome guy, about 60, in good shape, and looked 20 years younger. He was tall and slim, with elegant fingers. His face was angular, with a sharp nose and jawline. He had an amazing set of choppers, the best that money could buy. They were white and straight, and his smile was disarming. He spoke in clipped tones that indicated to Regina that he was from a different country, probably either Australia or England. Yuri, on the other hand, was around 70, with white hair and a weathered face. However, like Carl, he had taken good care of himself over the years. He did not smile when she walked in. Neither did he look her up and down, like Carl did.

  Regina was a master at reading people. It was obvious that Carl was the one with the salacious appetite. He made no pretense about that. He was the one who looked like he wanted to devo
ur her on the spot, undressing her with his eyes. On the other hand, Yuri appeared to be somebody who was all business. He had a notepad in his hand, and he barely looked at her as she sat down next to him.

  After Regina sat down, she looked past Carl at the view below her. The Pacific Ocean was rolling in about 50 feet below the house. It was a clear day, blue skies and warm, and she had a sudden urgency to leave this place and get to where she felt comfortable. This gorgeous home, with its 30 foot ceilings, marble and hardwood floors, and its magnificent view, nevertheless had a certain vibe about it. In her ears, she could imagine the cries of desperate young girls who were tricked into a monstrous sexual servitude. She knew that she wasn’t really hearing these cries, it was only in her head, but that was the kind of vibe she was getting from this beautiful home.

  Yet she was going to have to put on her game face, and pretend that she was all-in with this situation.

  “Now, I understand that, from Sergei, you’re interested in procuring girls for my clientele,” Carl said. “And that you are also interested in the role of house mother. I can assure you that we have one of those. Her name is Jacqueline, and she’s been with us for five years. So I’m very sorry, but, at the moment, I don’t have an opening for the position that you want.”