Before the senator could answer, Cassie wretched.
“Are you sick, Cassiopeia?” Claudia Marshall helped her with a glass of water. Her attempt to raise her hands to accept the glass was met with a dig from the gun.
* * *
Troy “Greece” Bremen called Kieran and Ian. “We have a problem. Club security notified Senator Bynum’s team. Tighe and I got a look into the room, and Mr. Bynum’s aide is in the dining room pointing a gun at Cassie. They have her hands bound with flex cuffs in front. And, Ian, she doesn’t look good. She vomited while the meal was served.”
“I’m five minutes out. Seal off the room. Greece, no one goes in or out until I get there,” Ian said. The engine of the Ducati screamed.
* * *
Cassie swallowed a sip of water. “I’m just a little under the weather. Folks, are you aware Robby kept meticulous and detailed records of your exploits? Every girl, every act, immortalized on film and file.
“You are quite a voyeur, Judge, and you are quite the amateur photographer, Claudia. Robby labeled every photograph. He even gave you credit in every file of the women you sold. Judge, he also kept a record of every art transaction. I’m sure the FBI will love the contents of your home. And, sorry, you won’t get the Van Gogh.
“What surprised me was you getting involved with a man like Arkady Sabitov. There were many gallery owners with influence who could help you. Why choose a man as difficult to manipulate and as vicious as him?”
“Robby told us over and over she was going to ruin everything. He was right. We should have killed her instead of leaving it up to those incompetent men,” Betty derided.
“You know, Betty, I liked you. You were the only one to shut Ade up. Ladies, I guess you’ve spent a lot of time cleaning up for these men. They made many mistakes. Was Robby one of their mistakes? You murdered him? I know the world is not all sunshine and flowers, but killing your only child, Betty? That is pure evil.”
Betty slapped Cassie across the face.
The adrenaline rush is what Cassie needed. “Senator, you traveled to Moscow twelve years ago. Is that when you met Sabitov? Was he helping you sabotage the voting booths? Sabitov is not a man you climb into bed with. How did you sell your souls? What did he have that was so special? What did one of you do in Moscow? Did you get caught with your hand in the cookie jar?” Cassie’s tone was cutting.
Claudia yelled, “Tell her. Get this over with. She can die knowing.”
“We were there as part of a delegation to work out issues with Russian adoptions. We were also there on our own to arrange a deal for some voting booth technology. Of course, they couldn’t resist going out to the clubs,” Adrienne growled.
“We found a sweet little waif—so young and fair with hair like yours. She was delightful, wasn’t she?” Bynum was wistful, and Whitman and Marshall both smiled.
“And who was she?” Cassie adjusted her position in the chair. Monte placed a firm, controlling hand on her thigh, making pain shoot through her leg.
“Sabitov’s soon-to-be sister-in-law,” Senator Bynum whispered.
“Haha, you pigs raped the future sister-in-law of the largest mobster in Moscow and lived to tell the tale?”
Senator Bynum shrugged. “From that moment, we were no longer in business with him—we were indebted to Mr. Sabitov.”
* * *
Ian hit the lobby at full speed. Two more Chase Security personnel greeted him at the top of the steps. Joseph Dowling, head of the club’s security, said, “I told these men I notified the Secret Service.”
“I tried to explain Cassie isn’t a threat, but they’re not listening.” Zach’s crystal blue eyes blazed like lasers.
Ian grabbed the security chief by the collar. “Ms. Modine is unarmed. She is an FBI agent. She is ill. Where’s the detail?” Ian demanded two more waiters’ outfits. He directed how he wanted the team to secure the premises. Tate, fresh from the warehouse, along with Martin, changed into waitstaff uniforms.
* * *
“So why me?” Cassie asked.
“Something the smart whore can’t figure out? We needed Ellis Art Finds. Daddy’s company gave us access to art shipments, and his reputation was impeccable—easy transit through customs. You were a patsy. You were targeted the minute your face and auburn hair appeared in the news after you survived the helicopter crash—no one was supposed to survive. Your survival won us Devereaux’s cooperation. It didn’t take long to figure out he planned the crash. At that point, we decided the best way to maintain the volume needed was for you to be part of the family—you can’t testify against your husband. We flipped a coin between Garett and Burt. Garett won,” Adrienne said.
“You mean it was all a con?”
“We watched and waited for you. Devereaux helped until you were old enough. If he got caught, the blame would fall on you. Every transaction could be tied to you. Once you were in college, it was easy. You were a needy, sheltered girl who never had a boyfriend. That first meeting with Garett was not by chance, and you fell for it right away. You’re right, it was a con—until it wasn’t. We didn’t count on Garett falling in love with you. We also didn’t count on him telling you his secret.” Adrienne poked her.
“So, what if he’s sterile? I didn’t care.”
