Luciano owned Santini International. His conglomerate of businesses included a designer clothing line for men, a luxury liquor brand, and a vineyard in Italy that produced the best Chianti in the world.
He brought her into his lounge. The large room made cozy with dark green walls, dark furniture, and a table lamp set on low. Rather than sit on the sofa or relax into an upholstered chair, she eased onto a leather stool at his bar. The house was quiet, except the symphonic melodies playing from speakers built into the walls.
“It’s Saturday, why aren’t you out?” she asked as he opened the brandy.
“How do you know I wasn’t, or that I’m not hosting a party now?”
She listened, but couldn’t hear anything beyond the music. He poured the liquor.
She raised the snifter. “Santini,” she said.
That made him smile. He tapped her goblet, and they drank.
He moved to the sofa, she swiveled toward him. “I got myself hired at The Blue Suit Club, but I have to work the case from the front.”
“No sex for you.”
“That’s my life these days.”
“Your choice,” he said. “I know several men who would love to date you.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” She sipped, set down the glass. “There are six women who’ve gone missing from there. Law enforcement isn’t putting much focus on them, maybe because they’re strippers?—”
“Maybe they’re overworked,” Luciano said.
“Are you actually defending the men and women in blue?” she asked.
“You know I dislike law enforcement,” he said. “Too slow, too many rules, too much bureaucratic bullshit, too many bosses, too much paperwork.”
“If only Luciano Santini ruled the world.”
“I’m working on it.” One more sip before he turned his piercing gaze on her. “How can I help?”
She told him about her friend, Jilly, and Jilly’s missing friend, Terri. “Terri has a sister, who also went missing. According to Jilly, Terri never missed her shifts. In the four years she worked there, she called out three times.”
“So, you want to rescue these women?”
She regarded him. “I want to find them.”
“You can’t save everyone,” he said matter-of-factly.
She tapped her fingernails on the shiny bar. “Where would I be if Elsa hadn’t come along?”
“You’re a fighter. You would have done okay.”
She sipped her cognac. “Let’s give Elsa a little credit. I want to pay it forward.”
“I can’t help you.”
She stood. “I’ll go it alone, then. I’m not afraid.” Instead of leaving, she sat beside him. “How are you?”
“Ruthless, arrogant, wealthy, power-hungry.”
“Most people say,I’m good. Or you could say,great, thanks.”
A devilish smile filled his face. “A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”
His phone buzzed. He pulled it from his silk pocket, replied to the text, and set the phone on the sofa cushion.
