4
D
anny Lam sat opposite with his notebook, flicking through several leaves of handwritten pages. My chest tightened in impatience, and I waited for him to update me. My patience had lengthened somewhat by being in prison, living by the system. I was fed by the clock, I trained in the gym by the clock, and I lived significant portions of my life in a small room, lying on an uncomfortable bed, staring up at the ceiling, and plotting my revenge on Annika and whoever murdered my uncle.
He cleared his throat before speaking, “I revisited the witnesses of Mr. Kaiser’s death-”
“The neighbors?” I asked, wondering whether he had discovered new witnesses. But I was told that the only people who saw the van drive up to the Kaiser’s house were witnesses and her …the little lying snitch.
“Are you aware that the main witness who identified that there were two men in the van that pulled up outside the Kaiser house is deceased?”
“How? When? Are you referring to the old woman? I enquired, wondering if her death was suspicious. She was the best witness, and I remember her being helpful with the inquiry until she became scared off and fell silent. When we approached her, we found that the house had been put on the market, and she had moved to another state.
“Yes, she died in her bed of natural causes three years ago,” he explained. “But…” he sighed and I knew what was coming next was going to irritate the living shit out of me. “She was the best witness we had.”
“So, what are you saying?” I snarled at him. It’s not his fault that every fucking lead seemed to dissolve into a thousand fucking pieces.
“I contacted her daughter to see if she’d be open to me asking her some questions about that evening when Mr. Kaiser died and…ah, how shall I say, she became very nervous and cut me off. When I called her the following day, she asked me not to contact her again because it caused a lot of stress in their family,” he trailed off.
I waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have nothing else to say, so I suggested, “Pay her off. How much? How much do you think it would take to get her to speak?
This offer took him aback. “I don’t know.”
“Someone had gotten under her skin and frightened her into silence, so offer her something she can’t refuse.” I lit a cigar and took a pull, blowing out the smoke. One thing I have in bucket loads is money, so call her again and ask how much it would take for her to speak. I haven’t been in this business for as long as my uncle, but I know one thing for sure: the daughter of the best witness we had knew something. And money talks, Mr. Lam, money talks.” I take another pull of a Danish King, watching him closely, working it out in my head. “Ask her. Ask her how much she’d like to trade for information about that day when Mr. Kaiser was shot.”
Danny nodded slowly. “That was the impression I got. Her mother knew something, but the daughter wipes her hands clean of it.”
“Alright,” I sighed, glancing at the time on my phone. Dinner time was near, which meant the little liar would deliver my meal. Fake IDs and underage girls working in the club were not something I supported, but we’ll let her ride the wave until we’ve figured out who she is. “Call the daughter tonight and get back to me.”
“Sure,” he replied, taking out a folded-up printed pic from his pocket. “One more thing. Your nephew sent me a picture of a woman he wanted me to identify…” He looked at me as if I should know that.
I shrugged. “I hadn’t spoken to Gunner for a while,” I clarified, slightly confused as I took the pic from his hand and peered at the blond woman before me. “Is she a cop?” It looked obvious to me.
“Yes,” he exhaled. “Not just any cop, but an investigating officer in the Larsson Police Force.”
“Larsson?” Even the sound of the name of that city turned my stomach. “Give me some context here. What was Gunner taking pics of her for?”
“He said she was speaking to a student in her dorm in his words in a ‘threatening manner,’” Danny replied.
“Student? At Gotland?” I pressed, slightly confused.
He nodded.
“What’s she doing here out of jurisdiction? And what did it have to do with us?” I frowned, knowing that neither he nor Gunner would’ve raised the subject unless it was relevant.
“I don’t know that yet, and your nephew asked me because this officer was visiting a…” checks notes, “Riley Laws.”
“Huh,” I grunted as the pieces fell into place. “Well, well, well.”
“Gunner has asked me to investigate this Riley Laws, too, but I’m struggling to see what she has to do with your uncle's death,” he questioned, hoping I’d fill in the gaps.
I leaned in as the rattling sound of the dinner trolley being pushed over the elevator door tracks filled the room. I pointed to the door. The girl who’s about to deliver my meal is Riley Laws, but she goes by the alias Petra Black and uses a fake ID. The sound of her muffled, gentle knock on Ronan’s office door was dangerously close to me. I heard the door open and words exchanged, but I couldn’t pick up on what was said.
I gave Ronan strict instructions to act normal but not to touch her until we knew who she was. That meant no fucking the geek girl until we know for sure. I trusted Ronan to obey my orders, but I wasn’t sure about Gunner, who was a law unto himself.
“Gunner believes this girl, Riley, might be Annika,” I stated slowly, and his eyes gaped in surprise. “She looks different, so we’re going with Gunner’s instinctive hunch, which is why I hadn’t said anything to you earlier.”
“So, this officer from Larsson paid a special visit to this girl,” he said, pointing his thumb behind him toward the sound of the trolley coming down the hall.
“Yes,” I replied dryly, just as the trolley stopped, followed by a nervous knock on my door. “Enter.” I liked nothing more than a lying little doe serving me my meal. I’d typically ask her to leave my meal tray in the hallway because I had no interest in her entering my office. But that was before the revealing conversation with Gunner and Ronan.
It’s time for some fun.
Her sweet face was filled with terror as she glanced into my office. She then lowered her head shyly and fiddled with her glasses. I looked at her properly for the first time since she’d been serving me. With shaking hands, she was about to bend over to place the tray on the floor, which was the usual routine, but I stopped her by raising my hand.
“Bring it directly to me,” I demanded as Danny snatched up the pic of the Larsson officer and stepped out of the way.
She swallowed, looking terrified as her knuckles turned white from gripping that tray tightly. I took a strong pull of my cigar, enjoying the terror that I was provoking in her.
“Here,” I pointed to my desk, forcing her to step inside my lair and move in to me so I could look closer at her face. I vaguely remembered Annika, the girl who seemed to bring so much happiness to the Kaiser family, particularly Gunner, when she was young. She grew into a pretty young woman with thick blond hair, but I ignored her most of the time, so I doubt I would recognize her if I saw her today.
As Riley moved closer, I stared at her face to find something I recognized. Her hair was chocolate brown, and her eyes, behind glasses, were green, but those features were easy to change. I honestly couldn’t see Annika in her, but maybe that’s because the only feature I noticed was her thick blond hair, which she sometimes wore in a swinging ponytail. I mostly remembered how Gunner’s face lit up whenever she smiled at him. Allowing a woman to hold power over a man like that showed a weakness in Gunner, not a strength.
She became his world, a dangerous position for a man to put himself in. I had never allowed a woman to get under my skin like I’d seen Annika get under Gunner’s. But he was young, then. I could use his youth as an excuse, but he was older now, a man, yet he was still obsessed over that plain thing holding the dinner tray.
“Thank you, Danny,” I called after him as he sneaked out of the door, and I was left alone with the little liar.
The little liar placed the tray on the desk and cleared her throat, “Would you like a drink, Mr…Mr…?”
“Kaiser,” I educated her sternly, although I was sure she’d already know, since I fucking own this place. But, then again, Betty told me that the staff fondly referred to me as The Boss, which I was also okay with.
She swallowed again, and her left eye twitched as if she wanted nothing more than to escape my snare. “Mr. Kaiser, would you like a drink?”
“Yes, but first, I want you to place my tray here,” I said, pointing to the place on the desk before me. She placed it two feet away, so I’d have to lean forward to reach it.
With trembling hands, she stumbled backwards, pupils dilated in fear, and slipped her fingers under the tray to pick it up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kaiser.”
She sidled in next to me as her arm grazed the side of my head, apologized, stuttered, hesitated, and placed the tray directly in front of me. My nostrils flared as a sweet floral scent rose above the musky cigar smoke, and my crotch flinched.
Annoyed that little liar did that to me, I flicked my hand for her to leave, and she almost ran to the door, until, “Wait.” I stopped her, and she turned back, eyes dropped to the floor, trembling hands cupped together. “Pour me a whiskey.”
“Sure, sir, which whiskey brand would you like?” she asked as cigar smoke clouded her frame, turning that complexion ghost-like.
“That one,” I snarled, pointing to the glass cabinet that contained several bottles of expensive scotch whiskey and crystal tumblers. “The bottle on the silver tray. Pour me a glass.”
“Sure, Mr. Kaiser,” she shuffled nervously on her feet before she stepped toward the glass cabinet, wrapped her small, trembling hand around the neck of the bottle, and unscrewed the lid.
The weight of my gaze upon her wasn’t helping those nerves, but I didn’t care. I decided I would have some fun with her because she owed me. She betrayed my trust by using a fake ID, and if my Uncle Lars Kaiser were still alive, he’d turf her out onto the pavement without hesitation.
She needed two hands to pour the liquor as if it was too awkward and heavy for her, and I almost snatched it from her grasp for fear she might drop and smash that expensive birthday present. Instead, she managed to control the pour and filled the glass two-thirds before clumsily slamming the bottle down before it slipped from her grasp.
“Sorry,” she apologized as her cheeks burned red and struggled to screw the cap back on because her hands were trembling so much.
“Leave that and bring my drink here,” I growled in frustration at her because her fearful reaction to my temper drew sympathy out of me, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to feel sorry for her, yet I did. That furrowed brow and terror sweeping across those eyes and shaking hands stirred compassion within me. But it turned me on, too, especially since she smelled so nice.
I took a strong pull of my cigar to cool my jets, then blew the smoke out as she placed the glass in front of me. Then, dithered, “Would you like anything else, Mr. Kaiser?”
“Take the cover off,” I instructed her, and she stepped forward to take the cover off my plate of food. Her hair was tied up, and the ponytail fell around her shoulder as she leaned over my lap to remove the cover. I caught another whiff of her scent.
She coughed from the cigar smoke as she stepped back and waved the smoke away. I looked her up and down and liked what I was looking at, but hated that I liked what I was looking at.
“How old are you?” I shot bluntly as she shuffled closer to the door.
She swallowed and licked her bottom lip. Swallowing often was a sign of nervousness, probably because her mouth had dried up. Again, this was due to nervousness, but the hesitation helped her consider her lying answer.
“Twenty-one,” she finally answered after she thought about it.
I narrowed my eyes at her briefly before stubbing out the butt of my cigar between my fingers. As my hand reached for the salt shaker, she turned to walk to the door. “I didn’t say you could leave.”
She stalled and turned to face me, and this time, I detected a hint of irritation rather than fear. “I have to get back to the kitchen.”
“They can wait,” I told her. “I’m going to ask you again...”
She swallowed again, then pushed her glasses against her face with her middle finger, giving me the birdie unintentionally—or maybe it was intentional. Huh. Interesting. “Ask me what?” She had an attitude with her answer this time, so that middle finger might be intentional after all.
“How old are you?” I repeated sternly making it clear I didn’t want to fuck around.
She cleared her throat. “I told you. Twenty-one.”
I sighed, picked up the pepper shaker, and sprinkled that over my meal of marinated loin lamb chops and baby vegetables. I stretched my neck, so it clicked, then eyeballed her again. “I’m going to ask one more time. How old are you?”
Her eyes twitched as she laced her fingers together to stop them from shaking. “Twenty-one.”
“You used a fake ID, Petra,” I pointed out that I was onto her, but kept my tone even. “So I’m going to ask you for the last time. How old are you?”
Her chest rose as she inhaled, then exhaled slowly as I could see her brain working overtime, deciding whether she should tell me the truth. “Twenty.”
“Twenty?” I challenged because I wasn’t sure if that was true either.
“Yes.”
“So, you came into a Kaiser club using a fake ID? Why?” I was curious to see if her reason was related to the officer she was talking to. But she was unlikely to tell me that until I put the pressure on.
“Yes,” she replied as her shoulders relaxed.
“See, speaking the truth sets you free,” I stated flatly.
Disappointment washed over her face. “Free? Does that mean you want me to leave?”
“You’re breaking the rules,” I pointed out. “And we have stringent rules here.”
She nodded slowly as she inched toward the door. “I’ll empty my locker and leave then,” she succumbed, placing a delicate hand on the door handle.
“What is your real name?” I demanded to know.
“Riley,” she said in a small voice.
“Surname?” I pressed sternly.
“Laws. I’m a student at Gotland,” she added. “And I really needed a job.”
I leaned back in my chair, scrutinizing her. Even though I had no intention of letting her go, because Gunner was sure she was Annika, and if this cop had something to do with a little trap they were setting, then I’d like to keep my eye on her.
“This is what we’re going to do,” I said, picking up a chop between my fingers as she dallied by the door. I took a bite, and the meat was soft like butter. We paid our chefs well. “I’m giving you a verbal warning that if you breach the club rules again, you’ll be instantly dismissed.”
She nodded and quietly said, “Thank you.” But it wasn't easy to tell if she wanted to stay. If she were working under my iron fist, she might reconsider. “You’ll go down to Betty and update her with your correct details. Correct name, birthdate, address, etcetera, we’ll keep you on for now. Deal?”
“Yes,” she sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
She hesitated for a few seconds before I realized she was waiting for me to forbid her from leaving. I flicked my hand at her dismissively. “You can go now, and I’ll call Betty to tell her you’re coming to see her.”
“Thank you,” she said again and slipped away, closing the door quietly behind her.