Death by Desire (Caribbean Murder Series, Book 4) (9 page)

Petrovich’s party was tonight and Mattheus took
great care dressing for it. He’d brought a couple of evening outfits, including
a tux. Now he put on a custom silk sports jacket with matching slacks and deep
blue shirt.  Then ordered a taxi to take him to Petrovich’s villa. No doubt he’d
be drinking, and didn’t want to drive back late on the winding roads. The night
would be important, he felt it in his bones.

The taxi drove up to the lavish villa, which
rose above the ocean and was hidden behind rows of trees. As they approached a
private, Russian security guard stopped them to check and see if Mattheus was
on the guest list. Once he got clearance the taxi drove through two huge double
iron gates to the main entranceway.

Mattheus was impressed by the private security
forces.

“Some operation this guy has,” he said to the
driver.

“The party never ends here,” the guy mumbled. “We
bring people back and forth all the time.”

“He’s got his own security forces too,” said
Mattheus. “Guess this guy has a lot to protect.”

The taxi driver, an older, local man, turned
and looked at Mattheus.

“Petrovich runs his own little kingdom,” he
said. “We’re the ones who have to protect ourselves from him.”

“How so?” asked Mattheus, alert.

The driver shrugged. “These guys are eating up
the island alive,” he said, “buying up all the land for millions and millions, building,
building, ruining the character of the place.”

 “Sorry about that,” Mattheus said.

“Sorry won’t get us anywhere,” the driver said.
“We need real muscle down here to stop them.”

“Are you getting it?” Mattheus asked.

“That’s for you to find out.”

Mattheus felt the struggle that was going on
here beneath the surface. He got out, tipped the guy well, straightened his jacket
and walked in through the open doors.

*

The place was vast, winding and beautiful and the
party was in full swing. The rooms were bursting with incredibly beautiful
people, dressed in fabulous, designer silks and satins with flashing jewels,
perfectly groomed, totally indulged. A huge Christmas tree stood in the center
of the main hallway decorated to the hilt with colorful ornaments and angels.
In the room to the left was music, laughter, excitement. Tables with food were
spread along the back walls. The room was crowded with people meeting, eating
and talking to each amidst the clinking of glass.

 A full bar stretched out in another room. Behind
it was a huge, open deck. On it was a Jacuzzi, half full, with guests inside,
drinking. 

Mattheus didn’t know where to turn first. As he
was about to go to the bar, a tall, dark haired young man, tapped him on the
shoulder.

“Mattheus?” he asked in what sounded like a
thick, Russian accent.

“Yes,” Mattheus answered, surprised.

“We received word that you had arrived from up
front,” the young man said.

Mattheus was impressed with the tight operation.

“Mr. Petrovich would like to see you,” the
young man said. “Please come with me.”

The guy didn’t waste a minute,” Mattheus
thought, as he followed the tall young man to an alcove off another large deck,
which had its own bar and  was filled with more people milling around,
flaunting their beauty and wealth.

“Mr. Petrovich will be here in a minute,” the
tall, young man said.

Mattheus realized that was an order to stay and
wait where he was.

 “Sure,” he said.

Each spot had its own dazzling energy and Mattheus
enjoyed taking it all in.

The young man left and Mattheus turned to the
bar for a drink. The moment he got there, a slinky, red headed female in a low
cut sequined dress slithered up to him. She seemed to have had one or two
drinks by now.

“Scotch on the rocks,” Mattheus ordered, as the
bartender approached.

“I love men who drink scotch,” the gorgeous
woman cooed, staring up at him.

Mattheus was amused. She was so blatantly
coming on to him.

“My name is Alana Badoyvich,” she smiled,
parting her rich, ruby red lips, her strong perfume overcoming his senses.

 Despite himself Mattheus was intrigued.

“From Russia?” he asked.

“Naturally,” she cooed. “I am a guest of the
great Sasha Petrovich,” and she laughed, a gurgling sound. “And you, my
darling? Where you are you from?”

This gal really knows how to play it, thought Mattheus.

“I’m a detective from the U.S.,” he answered straight
forwardly.

Her smile decreased just slightly, and her
eyebrows lifted.

 “Now you are even more fascinating to me than
before,” she murmured. “A detective? And exactly what are you investigating, if
I may be so bold to ask?”

Mattheus thought he detected a slight tremble
in her well-modulated voice.

 “There’s trouble on this island,” Mattheus
answered softly, throwing her a bone.

She took it, and moved even closer to him, her
mouth wide open.

 “Trouble?” she said, “I am used to trouble. Tell
me about it.”

She certainly had a way of drawing a guy in.  For
a second Mattheus wanted to tell her about the trouble, but he stopped himself.
For all he knew she worked for Petrovich.  He pulled back.

Alana sensed Mattheus withdrawing immediately.

 “Everything you say will be secret with me,”
she uttered quickly. “I do not work for Petrovich. I am only his guest. Sasha
loves filling his home with beautiful women, he can’t live without us.”

“I can see that,” smiled Mattheus, looking
around.

She put her hand on his arm then, and drew him
closer.

“Don’t look around at the others, darling,” her
voice became husky. “That does not make the woman you’re with happy.”

Mattheus grinned. They’d been together for two
minutes and already she thought she was
with
him –

“You have plenty to look at right here with me,”
she continued.

Mattheus thought he might as well take
advantage of this sudden connection to find out all he could.

“Tell me about Petrovich,” he said as the
bartender brought him his drink, and the two of them lifted their glasses.

“Petrovich is a delicious monster,” Alana
smiled, pursing her lips together. “It’s common knowledge.”

“A monster? How?”

“He eats up woman up and then throws them away.”

“Doesn’t sound pretty,” said Mattheus.

“So what?  Sasha grows bored easily, like
plenty others.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Mattheus asked
as she drew so close he could felt her warm, sultry breath on his face.

“I am here for the party, no more, no less. I
am here to be happy. I long to be happy. How about you?”

Mattheus liked her. She was different most
women he ran into. He felt sad for her too, there was a lonely, desperation
about her.

“I am happy,” said Mattheus, in a soft voice.

Alana lifted her hand and stroked his sun
tanned face.

 “You are beautiful, darling,” she said, “but
you do not look happy. You cannot fool Alana.”

Mattheus smiled.

“And you have a magnificent smile, gorgeous, white
teeth.”

It was enough. Mattheus wanted her to stop. She
was hitting at feelings he’d left buried long ago.

“How long are you staying on the island?” he
asked.

“As long as you’re here,” she responded.

Mattheus stopped cold. He didn’t want to lead
her on and yet he wanted to hear what she knew about Petrovich.

“How long have you been a friend of Petrovich?”
he asked.

“No one is really a friend of Sasha’s,” she
smiled, her beautiful green eyes slanting, looking at him like a Cheshire cat.
People know Sasha, travel with him, drink his whiskey, eat his food, sleep with
him when convenient, but be his friend – impossible. He doesn’t know the
meaning of the word.”

Mattheus wondered for a moment if she knew it,
but then looked up and to his surprise, saw a huge, dark, burly man walking
towards him.

“Oh my dear, it’s beautiful Sasha,” she said,
throwing her hands up in the air, as if to seem thrilled with seeing him.

Petrovich liked that.

“How handsome you are tonight, Sasha,” she
said.

“My little kitten,” he said to her playfully, “it
is delightful to see you, but you must go away right now. I have to talk to
this man in private.”

Alana grimaced. “He and I have already been
talking so beautifully,” she said.

Petrovich smiled. “And you like him very much?”

“Very much,” she cooed, smiling at Mattheus.

“So I will call you back in a little while
then,” Petrovich said, “and you can continue your courtship.”

Mattheus raised his eyebrows. “We’ve been
talking for about five minutes,” he said plainly, “not exactly a courtship.”

Petrovich laughed. “Move along little kitten,”
he said to Alana, who backed away gently, throwing Mattheus a long glance over
her beautifully, shaped, ivory shoulder.

“For a few minutes only,” Alana said
petulantly, “but I will be back.”

“She’s impossible,” Petrovich said to Mattheus,
after Alana had gone. “Once she takes a liking to someone, she never lets up.”

“One of your girl friends?” Mattheus asked.

Petrovich laughed again. “Hardly a girlfriend,
just an amusement.”

Mattheus nodded. This guy seemed to have a
harem he could call on anytime.

“So? How can I help you?” Petrovich asked. “I
understand the Senator asked that you be a guest at my party. At first I
thought this was an odd request.”

The banter vanished and he looked at Mattheus
keenly.

“I’m glad you agreed to it,” said Mattheus.

“Of course I had to agree because the Senator
is an important man. I had no idea though, that you would be so dashing.”
Petrovich looked Mattheus over approvingly. “You are a welcome guest, anytime.”

Mattheus was caught between feeling flattered
and put off.  He knew there was trouble between Petrovich and the Senator. Was
that why Petrovich agreed to have Mattheus come? Was Mattheus here to be
inspected by him? This guy was sharp and crafty. Mattheus decided to jump right
in.

“Of course you know what happened to the
Senator’s daughter?” Mattheus said.

Petrovich did not even blink an eyelid. “Terrible
thing,” he said.

“I’m trying to find out more about it,” said
Mattheus.

“Maybe you will and maybe you won’t,” Petrovich
said. “These kinds of things are difficult.  I heard the murderer covered his
tracks beautifully.”

“They always leave something behind,” Mattheus
said.

“Not always,” said Petrovich. “For all you know
it could be a random act by a malcontent done during the holiday season.
Happens all the time in Russia.”

“We’re not in Russia,” Mattheus said plainly. “This
island is safe. Or it was.”

Petrovich lifted his bushy eyebrows. “Nothing
is safe,” he said.

“That’s why you have your own private security
guard?” said Mattheus.

“When you’re tremendously careful, you’re
tremendously safe,” said Petrovich. “Without it, who knows? There are snakes
crawling in even the most manicured grasses.”

Mattheus took a deep breath. This guy was
tough.

 “I heard there was trouble between you and the
Senator over building the casino,” Mattheus didn’t want to pull any punches.

“You’ve heard a lot,” said Petrovich, who
turned to the bartender then. “Glass of Vodka,” he demanded.

The bartender immediately poured the drink and
Petrovich took it and drank half of it quickly.

“Come with me, please,” he said to Mattheus
then and led him into another, more private alcove, with two comfortable
chairs. “Sit down,” he said, “and listen.”

Mattheus sat opposite him.

“First of all it is not a matter of trouble
between me and the Senator. He’s insignificant to me in the long run. This
casino will be built here, with or without him.”

Mattheus finished his own drink.

“It’s a matter of whether or not the Senator
decides to be of help. If he does, wonderful, it makes life easier. If he doesn’t,
someone else will. It’s his loss, and a stupid loss at that.”

“Is he trying to stop you from building the
casino?” asked Mattheus.

Petrovich shrugged. “Maybe he is, but so what?
He is not a truly powerful man. He simply has a few ideas he fights for like a
bulldog. They build a reputation for him.”