Tea Leafing: A Novel (26 page)

She winked and
continued making her rounds.

Ten minutes worth of
thanking customers elapsed before she was able to make her way to the back
where Joe stood in the shadows. Mary Jane had taken a break and was lingering
across the bar from him, waiting for Birdie to return.

“Sorry, mate, we’re up
in a VIP,” Birdie said, hugging his neck as if he were a regular.

“Mary Jane told me. No
worries. Just wanted to check in and make sure everyone is ok.”

Birdie and Mary Jane
traded glances, “Yeah, we’re all fine. Why? Something come up?”

Joe studied the two as
if turning the question over in his mind. “No, nothing much.” He paused, “Fedya
left the country with Nikki yesterday. She’s due back on Sunday and he’s going
on to Yekaterinburg for a week. Our sources tell us he’s visiting his family
there. I just wanted to do a head count.”

“Where’d he take
Nikki?” Mary Jane asked.

“A little island in the
eastern Caribbean called Nevis.”

Mary Jane raised her
eyebrows, “Posh.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty
nice. Private too.”

“Brits love it there.”
Birdie chimed in; “Think we owned it for a while.”

Joe grinned, “So to
speak.”

“Do you think it’s just
a vacation?” Mary Jane couldn’t help but bat her eyes slightly at Joe.

“Dunno. We’ve got a
contact down there
who
is supposed to be keeping an
eye on them. It’s tough from this far. I just wanted to see if you ladies had
heard anything.”

Birdie noticed Gio
emerge from the office for the first time this evening. He directed his gaze
straight down at the threesome gathered at the bar.

“Shit,” Birdie lowered
her voice, “Do we know if this spot is safe?”

Birdie jerked her head
in Gio’s direction and the other two looked up to see Gio standing with hands
on the railing as if he was a dictator looking down on his subjects.

“Fuck,” Mary Jane
mumbled.

“I’m out,” Joe said in
his low, grumbly voice, “Call me if anything pops up.”

The two smiled,
exchanged a look and headed off in their opposite directions.

CHAPTER 55

After work, the
foursome paid their tip outs, took the Breathalyzer and headed for Denny’s.
Tanya greeted them with hugs just inside the double glass doors.

“Hey ya’ll! Sit
wherever you like.”

Heading for their usual
table, Sam fished a small Tupperware canister from her bag. It was the kind
designed to hold sandwich meat, its body six inches in length, three across and
two deep. A small micro-cassette player had been placed in the bottom of the
tub. Remaining quiet once they took their seats, Sam ran a bead of temporary
adhesive caulk around the lip of the container. She pressed play and adjusted
the volume. The girls’ voices chattered from the recorder in conversational
tones, although the content of the conversation was taken from surveillance
manual Mary Jane had downloaded online.
An instructional “how
to,” if you will.
Grace glanced out the window briefly, confirming their
friends in the dark blue sedan were parked in a dusky corner several businesses
down. Sam pressed the Tupperware over the listening device, running her fingers
around the edge to ensure a good seal.

“Bob’s your uncle.” Sam
announced, lacing her fingers in front of her on the table and grinning ear to
ear.

“There ya go!” Birdie
cheered, “And who says Yanks aren’t trainable?”

“So Fedya and Nikki are
in the Caribbean, Gio is cranky as hell, and we’re on schedule.” Mary Jane
said.

“Think Fedya got wind
of the Nikki and Gio, umm, thing?” Grace asked, running her nails along the
Formica.

Tanya delivered the
usual drinks and headed off. Denny’s was busy for a Wednesday night and she was
hustling to keep up.

“Who gives a damn,” Sam
said “As long as it helps our plan to have those two out of the picture on
Saturday then I’m glad they’re gone.”

The wheels in Birdie’s
mind were turning, “But will they stay gone? I mean, what are the chances this
is some sort of ruse? For the sake of argument, what say if they know what
we’re up to and are playing us?”

“How would they know?”
Mary Jane placed her hand over the spot on the table where the listening device
was. Feeling the vibration of the recorder she relaxed and slid her hand back
in front of her.

“What if they know
abou’ the files? What if there’s a camera in the office we don’t know about?”

“I checked the monitors
in Gio’s closet and didn’t see one for the office. I snagged the DVD so they wouldn’t
have a record of me going in or out and I wore those friggin’ powderless
gloves, so no fingerprints were left.” She looked at Sam. “I have a bone to
pick with you about those by the way.” She paused, looking at the dropped
popcorn ceiling while she jogged her memory. “I did everything according to
plan, so I don’t see how they could have figured things out.”

“Let’s not start
questioning ourselves or we’ll go crazy,” Grace reasoned.

“We’ll assume
everything is okay unless we hear otherwise,” Sam agreed.

CHAPTER 56

Grace sat on the couch
under an afghan crocheted by Sam’s mom. She snuggled her feet into a warm,
tight nook between the cushions while Sam unloaded the dishwasher.

“Do you ever worry
about what your folks would say if they found out what you do?”

“Whaddya mean? The
dancing?”

“Uh huh. I’m just
afraid my parents would freak. I really hope they don’t know.”

“There’s nothing you
can do about it if they do, babe. I think about it sometimes though. That’s the
only part I hate about our Sunday talks,” Sam said. “I tell them about my life,
about you girls and what’s going on. I try and glaze over the freelance stuff.
I’m sure they wonder what the hell I’m up to, but they give me space and don’t
question it. I guess I’m lucky. Maybe someday I’ll tell them, but I’m afraid
they’d worry themselves to death if they knew the truth right now.” She paused,
thinking about Lena, “You know, worry that something bad would happen.”

“I know. I hate it too.
God I hope Kyle doesn’t become vindictive and call them. They loved Kyle, you
know.”

“Yup. I don’t think he
will. He’s an ass, but I don’t think he’s that much of an ass. Besides, what
does he have to gain by doing that?”

Grace looked
thoughtful, “I don’t know why I miss him. After all, that relationship was over
long ago.”

“Don’t beat yourself up
over it. There’s something to be said for that familiarity. There’s comfort in
ritual, Grace. Two people get used to each other and even if the love is gone,
there’s something safe about the patterns you get into. Even the arguing
becomes a part of your life. You can’t help but miss it when it’s gone.”

“Yeah, you’re right.
It’s just my ego talking. I know he needed to be the one to end things so he
could salvage the masculinity he lost while we were together. The evil part of
me still hopes he gets Herpes.”

Sam laughed and closed
the upper cabinets, dishes safely stowed away. She looked across the bar
dividing the kitchen from the living room at her friend nestled under her
favorite blanket. Grace looked beautiful, even at the end of a long night with
her large eyes smeared with make-up and her hair disheveled into an
asymmetrical stack that looked like a tilted blonde layer cake.

“Change sucks. That’s
all there is to it, but who knows how many great guys you passed up while you
were wasting time with him.” She thought a minute. “No, that’s not right.
Everything happens for a reason, Grace. Even though we can’t see it now,
there’s a reason you and Kyle were together as long as you were. That time has
passed and the future holds something bigger and better for you.” She came
around the bar and kissed Grace’s forehead, sitting on the couch next to her.
“You know what they say,” she smiled, “God never closes a door without opening
a window.”

The two hugged, and Sam
could feel Grace’s body shake as she sobbed into her shoulder.

CHAPTER 57

Gio paced the floor in
front of his maroon leather couch. The muted TV flashed images of an old mob
flick. He loved the idea of mafia and was always secretly flattered when people
mistook his raspy, Jersey accent for a sign that he must be a wise guy.
Emulating the suave villains he’d seen in so many gangster flicks, he
downplayed speculations about his own involvement. He never believed he might
actually be caught up with some very dangerous affiliates of the Russian mob.
He knew there were shady deals going down with Fedya, and of course he knew
money was being funneled in and out of the club in a dubious way, but he was so
caught up in the fantasy of the dangerous cover that it hadn’t occurred to him
it might be real.

Picking up his beer
from the side table, he took a pull from the longneck. Could Fedya have really
been responsible for Lena’s death? Could he really be a Russian mobster? Gio
always assumed he was rich and like many wealthy men, liked to flaunt power.
That’s where he believed it ended. Fedya had regular meetings in the club with
various foreign nationals, and the gang of thugs who never seemed to go off
duty. When Fedya gave the girls that money after Lena’s death, he thought it
was generous donation for a few days off work. He had assumed Fedya was trying
to sleep with one of them and so was overly generous. He’d dismissed it as
overactive hormones.

Gio was torn. Part of
him was pissed that Nikki would take off on vacation and not bother to tell
him. The other part, worried that she may not have been able to reach him. A
pang of guilt hit him in the gut as he thought about the twins he’d spent the
previous night with. They were too hot to pass up though. Nikki would just have
to understand. He’d turned his cell phone off so he wouldn’t be disturbed and
wondered if she’d tried to call. Not one to leave messages, Nikki would
generally hang up in a huff if she weren’t able to get through.

Gio paced the floor.
Yesterday Fedya had raked him over the coals like never before. Fortunately
he’d done it in private so Gio was spared humiliation in front of subordinates.
Not sure if the “talk” had been intended as a motivational business chat or a
personal threat. During the meeting it had crossed his mind that Fedya might
have found out about the affair, but nothing was ever said directly about it.
Deciding he was just paranoid, he focused on raising the profit margin of the
club as Fedya requested. He’d post a sign in the dressing room announcing the
new, higher tip out. He’d also implement some new rules that would allow him to
fine employees for various infractions. The rules would work for a few weeks
until the dancers were used to the new system and found ways around them.

He knew Fedya wasn’t
hurting for cash and the club had never been more profitable. Trying to get a
handle on what was irking Fedya was about to drive Gio crazy.

“Giovanni!” Came the
singsong voice from the foyer.

“Fuck,” Gio muttered.

“Giovanni! It’s yuh
ma!”

“Hey ma, I’m in the
living room.”

Pietra appeared with a
casserole dish loaded with what appeared to be veal Parmesan.

“I brought you yuh
favorite dish.” She paused, “What awe you doin’ drinkin’ at this time a day?”
Setting the Pyrex down roughly on the table she marched to Gio and squeezed his
face with her fingers. “Awe you drunk?”

“No Ma! I’m just
thinkin’. I’m a grown-up remember? I can fuckin’ do what I want and right now I
wanna’ drink.”

Pietra took a step back
and landed her bracelet-laden wrists on her hips. Her mouth pursed, eyes
darting behind lenses tinted in a graduating shade of tan from top to bottom.
Two small diamonds were set on either side of a gold “P” appliqué on the front
of her left lens.

“Watchya mouth. What
would yuh fatha’ say if he heard you tawkin’ like that?”

Gio turned and
continued his pacing. “Get off my back. I got things to think about.”

“Well, I nevuh!” She
stood her ground for a minute, thinking about what to do next. Clearly this
wasn’t the reception she expected from her favorite son. Finally, she turned
toward the kitchen, grabbing the veal as she went.

“You need food. I’m
heating this up and we’ll tawk once your stomach is full.” She jingle-jangled
off into the recesses of the house.

Gio sighed, knowing he
was going to have to talk to her for the umpteenth time about not popping in at
the club. He knew she wouldn’t listen and it irritated him. Fedya was losing
his temper and the Pussycat was a relatively cushy job Gio wasn’t interested in
screwing up.

CHAPTER 58

“Nikki’s dead.” Joe’s
news came through the phone line like a freight train.

“What?” Sam sat perched
on the edge of the couch.

Sensing something was
wrong, Grace pumped the button on the remote to turn the TV volume down.

“Well, the official
report at this time is that she OD’d on coke. She was found on the floor of the
bathroom in her room at the Four Seasons in Nevis.”

“I,” Sam stuttered, “I
don’t know what to say. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, she’s in the
morgue, but the autopsy won’t be finished until tomorrow afternoon. Apparently
there has been a rash of shark attacks, and they’re a little backed up. We’ve
tried to push it through as quickly as possible, but there’s only so much they
can do.”

Sam let out a breath.

“What?” Grace mouthed,
wide-eyed.

“Nikki’s dead.”

Grace fell back into
the cushions.

“What?” Joe sounded
concerned.