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“This is insane,” Megan said. “The guy keeps his business files in a ring. Seriously? Who the hell works like that?”
“Paranoid assholes who peddle in flesh,” Joe said.
Megan’s lips pursed. “Well, we need to get that ring.”
“No? You think?” Ryan said, which made Megan lob her gasmask at his head.
“There’s more,” Hope said, bringing their attention back to the phone.
Everyone stilled.
“Go ahead, Hope,” Joe said. “We’re listening. Anything you can tell us will help.”
The woman cleared her throat. “As I said, we were in the Romanian house that night. There’d been a party of some sort. I’d been told to dress up and impress. Rudi flew in fashion from Milan for the event and a makeup artist to make sure I looked my best. It was all about how I looked. He became very angry when he thought I wasn’t perfect.” She paused. “I got a bad feeling as soon as we went downstairs. The ballroom was crowded and I recognised some faces as being high up in European politics, not the kind of men who usually attended Rudi’s parties—although it wasn’t through his lack of trying to reel them in.
“Halfway through the evening a group of women I’d never seen before turned up. They were all decked out in couture, but looked like they weren’t used to wearing clothes like that. They each had the same look in their eyes. Glassy. I realise now that they were drugged.”
Megan felt Dimitri tense beside her and without thinking she placed her hand on his thigh. He relaxed slightly under her touch.
“The women didn’t mingle,” Hope was saying. “In fact there were a couple of guys, hired muscle, watching over them, guarding them. Rudi’s personal henchman, Durand, was there close to the women. I hated that man almost as much as I hated my husband. Whenever Rudi wasn’t looking he’d…touch me.”
There was a pause. Megan met Dimitri’s eyes. They’d known Durand was part of the organisation. They’d known Abramovich trusted the man. What they hadn’t known was just how wrapped up in the whole thing he’d been. Now they knew and the answer wasn’t comforting. Durand was in Abramovich’s business neck-deep.
“Rudi liked Durand,” Hope said. “He never believed me when I told him Durand took liberties.” They heard her swallow hard. “I guess I should count myself lucky. I heard rumours, things he did to other women. H-he hurt them.”
There was a heavy silence. Dimitri’s thigh was stone under Megan’s touch.
“You were telling us about that evening,” Joe prompted. His gentle tone was at odds with the rage that had turned his face into a vicious mask.
Megan glanced around the room and noticed all of the men wore the same look. It was clear Durand’s days were numbered. And that thought warmed Megan’s heart no end. She hadn’t been around the man for more than an hour, but it had been enough. He emanated evil. His eyes were shark flat and he got off on pain. Yeah, she could just imagine what he would do to any women he managed to get his hands on.
“As the evening went on,” Hope said into the tense silence, “the VIP guests began to mingle with the women. They seemed to be choosing a companion from amongst them. Some of the men disappeared with the woman they’d singled out.” They could hear the woman fidgeting with something as her voice began to shake. “I’d had too much to drink. I thought at the time they were call girls, brought in for the party.”
“But now you don’t think so,” Joe gently prompted.
“No,” Hope whispered.
“Tell us why, Hope.” Joe stared at Dimitri as he spoke.
Megan had a very bad feeling about this. Very bad. She turned to Dimitri. The man had morphed into stone. He was staring at nothing and his muscles were tightly coiled as though ready to strike.
“It was the photos you sent me,” Hope whispered. “I recognised two of the women.”
Dimitri stopped breathing. Megan began to panic and tightened her grip on his thigh.
“Who did you recognise?” Joe said.
There was a pause before Hope’s words hit Dimitri with more accuracy than a sniper’s bullet.
“Amanda Freer and Katrina Raast.”
Chapter Eight
Megan felt the tension build in Dimitri’s body just before it exploded. He shot to his feet sending his chair flying behind him. His palms hit the table with a loud smack as he leaned towards the phone.
“Where is she? What happened to Katrina?” he shouted.
“Dimitri, calm down or leave the room.” Callum’s words cracked like a whip, cutting through Dimitri’s rage.
