"Could be a random person walking by." Lev doesn't sound convinced. "Wrong place, wrong time."
"I'm fairly certain it's someone who works for us." Rubbing my hand across my face to help alleviate some of the tension, I grumble, "It was Tatiana." There's no doubt in my mind at this point, and I've been stupid enough to let her go home every night. Whoever is in the hospital might be her sister or cousin or something, and the mess I got her into by hiding Volodin has just exploded in my face.
Lev's eyebrows go up. "The private waitress from your penthouse?"
"Can you lay off?" I growl, but he holds his hands up, palms outward.
"Christ, Dimitri, back off. I was asking a question." He pauses and leans forward, talking more quietly. "If the Kozlovs find out there was a witness…" Lev doesn't finish the sentence, and it feels like a dagger slicing through my heart.
"They'll kill her." I stand up and pull out my wallet. "I need to get back to the casino and figure out what the fuck I'm gonna say to her. It's obvious she knows she's in over her head, but now someone else is involved too. A woman in the hospital."
"What do you want me to do?" Lev starts gathering his things as he talks, but there's just nothing he can do for now except dig a little.
"Keep working on that plate." I drop cash on the table for both our meals. "And see if you can find any information about who filed that police report. I need confirmation it was her so she can't keep lying to me."
I know the instant we prove it was her, Yuri will insist on speaking to her. If she saw the killers, she can help us plan retaliation. She may have seen some identifying mark or heard something that could help us defend ourselves better when shit hits the fan.
By the time I get back to the casino, I've made up my mind. I have to have a chat with Tatiana and this time, I won't let her look me in the eye and lie to me again. I know she saw Kozlov's men kill Volodin and I know she's terrified. What I don't know is who the other woman was or how they're connected, but I'll get that out of her too.
12
TATIANA
Something hard pokes into my ribs and I shift on the couch trying to find a more comfortable position as I find sleep lifting and my body slowly waking up. My eyes open slowly and I stare at unfamiliar ceiling tiles with water stains spreading across them. For a moment, I can't remember where I am or why I'm sleeping on a couch that smells like mildew and cigarette smoke.
But slowly, I remember why I'm here, shivering in the too-cold warehouse with no blanket or easily accessible toilet. But at least it's quiet and dark enough to sleep, if you can call it sleep. I tossed all night with bad dreams and a horrible kink in my neck, and now all I can think about is emptying my bladder and getting a cup of coffee somewhere.
I sit up and my apron falls off my shoulders. I used it as a blanket during the night when I realized there was nothing else to cover up with. My back aches from sleeping on cushions that have lost most of their padding, and I roll my shoulders to relieve some of the kinks in my neck. I don’t know how long I can do this, but atleast I know security doesn't watch the warehouse door closely enough to come chase me out.
Way better than a stupid shelter across town.
Pressing my hands to my face, I yawn and think of Lena in that ambulance. They probably took her to the hospital for more tests, and who knows what she'll do when she gets out. I know she has family close to stay with, unlike me. It'll be easier for her, though that doesn’t make me feel any less guilty for getting her messed up in this. I can't help but wonder if I'd have kept my mouth shut, would anyone even have known what I saw?
Standing, I fold my apron over my arm while looking around the storage room one more time. Maybe there's a different, more comfortable couch I can sleep on tonight if I have to do this over again. I just don't know where else to go. I won't stay at a shelter and I can't really afford a hotel. With no other close friends or relatives, this place is all I have. Even still, I'm risking losing my job if I mooch off the casino for too long, so I know it's not an option for long-term housing.
The door creaks when I push it open and I freeze, listening for any sound of footsteps or voices. But the hallway outside is empty and silent except for the hum of the central air that makes this place feel like an ice locker. I close the door behind me and walk toward the stairs that lead up to the employee areas.
My legs feel shaky and weak from hunger and exhaustion. I can't remember the last time I ate anything substantial. Maybe yesterday morning before my shift started and I got wasted. Everything since then has been a blur of fear and vodka and Dimitri's hands on my body.
I can't get that out of my head. Why can't I get that out of my fucking head? I swear I dreamed about it too, except in my dream, we weren't interrupted by that man and Dimitri did unholy things to my body that made me wake up in a cold sweat. Fuck, it messes with my head even now as I head with my duffel bag into the locker room.
"You're early," I hear from the back of the room and see Linda standing in her black slacks and just a bra as she tugs on her blouse to prepare for her shift. Scowling, I avoid eye contact and look away, as is appropriate in these circumstances.
"Yeah… Couldn't sleep last night. No point in staying home when there's work to be done." And after being late three days in a row as a modicum of protest against Dimitri's micromanagement, I probably owe this place the honor of showing up on time for once.
"Feeling better?" Linda asks. After that incident when she sent me home, I've barely seen her. I've been working for Dimitri and my communication to Linda is barely memorable. I didn't know she cared.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I mumble as I reach my locker and turn toward it. She seems to get the point that I'm not interested in conversing at all and she shuts her locker and walks out as I raise my hand to lift the latch on my locker door.
But when the door squeaks open, it isn't my empty metal box I see. My eyes register an image before I even realize there's something lying on the locker's bottom. It's a picture of the crime scene with the body of that man lying in his own blood.
An odd sound bubbles up out of my throat that sounds like I'm trying to swallow a screaming animal and I cover my mouth, dropping my duffel bag.
"Oh, my God." Someone knows.
I look around the locker room, now empty since Linda waltzed out, and I wonder who it could be.
The break in at my apartment wasn't a coincidence at all, and Lena's in the hospital over that, but now this? Someone I work with knows what I saw and they're taunting me now?
