Raven Moon, Case File #1

Dimitri

The bar stool cut into the backs of my legs, a common issue for someone with legs that didn’t go clear to the sky. My toes, not used to being squeezed into flashy red heels, hardly even managed to rest on the brass rung and I squirmed to keep at least some blood flowing. If I ended up needing to run, finding out that my legs had fallen asleep would be a nightmare.

I twirled a strand of my strawberry blonde wig, my favorite within my private investigator’s arsenal of disguises, and faked a small sip of whiskey from the edge of my frosted glass, letting my eyes scan the mirror on the wall to check the room behind me. Having my back exposed to the open space made every tiny muscle in my neck twist into cords but it had to be done. Besides that, my assistant Cooper had my back. Watching from his vantage point at a booth in the corner he would let me know if I needed to worry about someone coming up behind me.

“Raven, quit screwing with your hem. It makes you look out of place,” Coop said, his smooth voice slow and gentle in the earpiece hidden beneath my wig.

It wasn’t the hem I was worried about, it was the slit that ran up the side of my leg, exposing almost my entire hip. I could hear my mother’s dismay and picture her pinched nose coming at me all the way from Boston. With a sigh I reached for my glass and gave the ice a rattle before taking another sip–the signal that I had heard him. The warm chuckle I heard in response made my lips curve up.

I nearly choked on the whiskey I was swallowing though when the stool next to me was suddenly filled with a stocky man. He was bald with bad skin, cold tan eyes and breath that could drop a goat from ten yards.

“He’s here,” Coop whispered in my ear.

No shit.

I rattled my ice again before setting my glass down and lifting the cocktail napkin to dab away the drip hanging at the corner of my lip.

“Are you alright?” my mark for the evening asked, raising one eyebrow.

“What? Oh, sure. Yeah, I’m fine, thanks,” I said, aiming for ditzy and thinking I had succeeded. “Sorry. You surprised me, that's all.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to. This seat was the only one I could see that was open,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind?”

“No, not at all,” I said. The seat beside me being open wasn’t an accident at all, it was planned. I flashed a thousand watt smile his way and said, “My name’s Kimmie.”

“Kimmie?” he asked. The smile flirting with the inside corner of his mouth didn’t warm his eyes at all. If anything it highlighted their flatness. Their cruelty. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dimitri.”

I know.

Dimitri Antonov, forty-two years old, married with three daughters. Russian mafia middle management. Drug dealer, arms dealer and trafficker of women my age. His was the hardest case so far in my young career. Seeing the pictures of the tortured bodies he’d left behind had robbed me of sleep for weeks now. Seeing him arrested, finally safely behind bars where scum like him belonged, would bring me such joy.

“Nice to meet you, Dimitri,” I said, extending my hand and doing my best not to cringe when his fingers brushed mine.

“Forgive me for staring,” Dimitri said, cocking his head to the side and flaring his nose as he leaned almost imperceptibly toward my neck, “but you seem familiar to me. Have we met before?”

“No,” I said quickly, maybe too quickly, as my eyes dropped away from him pretending to be suddenly shy. My hands were in my lap, my fingertips fidgeting with my hem once again, and I forced them to stop. I brought my eyes back up to his before continuing softly, “I’m sure I would remember.”

Easy, Raven, not too thick now.

“What brings you to The Riverside?” Dimitri asked before glancing over his shoulder. “Are you meeting someone? If so, I’m happy to move.”

“Oh, no. I’m not meeting anyone,” I said, painting a light dusting of sadness over my face and letting my eyes shift back to the bottom of my glass. “I’m here on a girls’ trip but my friends all had something to do tonight.”

The story was one Cooper and I had worked out while hunched over my tiny cluttered desk in my cramped apartment. It fit with Dimitri’s MO of nabbing lonely young women far from their homes. Women who wouldn’t be missed for several days, or maybe a couple of weeks, which meant the trail leading to them would be cold.

“And they left you alone? That’s not very nice.” Oily charm covered his words, making my skin crawl.

“It’s fine. I was just going to have a cocktail and then head up to my room and read,” I said, doing my best to sound like I was hiding my disappointment and not doing a great job of it. I needed Dimitri to think I was clueless and maybe just a little naive. I didn’t want him to realize I had a compact handgun strapped to my thigh and had been logging weekly sessions with Marco in the gym where I was getting better at hand-to-hand.

“Looks like your glass is empty. Can I get you another?”

I pretended to mull it over, letting a smile dance across my face as if I was beyond flattered, before nodding my acceptance. From my investigation over the past month and a half I had learned Dimitri had a pattern. Find a likely target, make her feel special, buy her a drink and drop just enough GHB into it to make her easy to control. From the way things were going we were moving right along. If things went my way his pattern would end tonight.

“Thanks,” I said. “I just need to run to the little girls’ room for a sec. Do you mind?”

“No problem. I’ll save your seat, darlin’.”

Was that a smirk I caught? I was making it rather easy for him by walking away. Too easy? I didn’t think so. He made a habit of looking for easy prey.

“Ok, great. Be right back,” I said, slipping off the bar stool and making my way toward the restroom around the corner. When I passed by the booth Cooper was sitting in I winked, giving him the signal that things were going according to plan. All he had to do now was get clear photos of Dimitri spiking my drink and we would have enough for the police to arrest him. Cooper would tell me when he had the photos and I would call the police before I left the restroom. Then I would just have to keep Dimitri’s hands off me until the team in blue showed up.

I turned left into the hallway, red walls and black paint sucking the light out of it, and was glad to see there wasn’t a line. Unusual for the women’s room, but it would give me the privacy I needed to call Detective Valentine. I took two more steps then felt hands on my shoulders, roughly shoving me forward into the wall while spinning me at the same time. Off balance in the sexy red heels, unlike the trusty sneakers I usually wore, I did my best not to fall but it took everything I had.

“Where’re you going Kimmie? Or should I say Raven?”

Dimitri’s words, sharp and somehow vulgar, came at me like tiny knives with spittle slapping my face. His foul breath made me want to gag.

“What? What do you mean? I told you I had to go to the bathroom,” I said, thinking quickly and hoping my sweet and innocent delivery was believable. “Who’s Raven?”

“Don’t act like I’m stupid. I know who you are. I’ve seen you slinking around. I told you earlier I recognized you.”

I didn’t know how he knew my name but I knew he couldn’t possibly recognize my face. He had never seen me in the strawberry blonde wig before and the make-up I was covered in completely changed my look. I doubled down on the act, deciding a bit of indignation was called for. I conjured my mother’s face to get it right.

“Get your hands off me!” I said, letting my voice rise. It had the added benefit of possibly alerting Cooper to my distress.

Where was Cooper anyway? Hadn’t he seen Dimitri follow me?

“I don’t know who you think you are but you better back off, creep,” I said, scowling as I took stock of my surroundings.

Dimitri laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound but more like the triumphant call of an animal that thinks it has its prey trapped. And, honestly, I was in a bad spot. He had me backed against the wall, limiting my choices for punching, kicking or throwing elbows. He had a hand around my throat, effectively stopping me from reaching my gun. And I was wobbling on three inch spiked heels.

Note to self, choose better shoes next time.

His right hand landing in an open-palm blow against my cheekbone made my vision swim, dark specks flickering in and out. My teeth slammed together, ringing a bell in my head that made my stomach turn sour. So I did the last thing he would expect. I charged forward. Where he probably thought I would continue to pull away, and he was ready for that, I did the opposite.

I leaned in, throwing my weight forward, and jammed my hands under his chin to lift him off his feet. With my forearms locked against his chest I thrust my hands up under his head, tight fists connecting solidly with the soft flesh of his chin. He let out a grunt and staggered as his weight shifted to his heels. Planning to keep the advantage I stepped forward, driving him back and buying me some space to work in.

Dimitri swung his fist, a haymaker I saw coming from a mile away, and I ducked my head just out of reach. He oversold it and his momentum carried him into a turn that I easily followed, grabbing his wrist and twisting his arm up behind his back in a smooth motion.

What I didn’t see coming was the mule kick. While my attention was on gaining control of his arms he jammed his left foot back, connecting with my shin and causing my knee to flex sideways. That’s all it took for him to turn the tables. Off balance I shuffled to my left until my shoulder slammed into the wall. Before I could whip around Dimitri grabbed me, pinning my arms to my side. Once again going for the unexpected I let my body go limp, slipping through his grasp and rolling to my back on the ground. In an instant I had my legs wrapped around his calves, just below his knees. With a jerk I pulled him down, satisfied with the sound of his head hitting the carpeted floor.

Scrambling away, needing more distance between us, I sprang to my feet and pulled my gun. With steady hands I pointed the short barrel at his chest.

“Don’t move, Dimitri,” I said, managing to sound calm and in control despite the adrenaline running through my veins. “Slowly, carefully, I want you to sit up against the wall. Keep your hands where I can see them the whole time.”

With rage flashing from his narrow eyes Dimitri wiggled into position then settled his hands on top of his head with his fingers laced together. Maybe it wasn’t his first time being held at gunpoint, I thought.

I switched my grip and pulled my phone out, dialling without taking my eyes off the man on the floor. The anger radiating off him didn’t bother me. In fact, I found it sort of amusing.

Detective Shawna Valentine, in her low-backed sporty wheelchair, rolled into the hallway less than two minutes later, her partner Tommy at her side and Cooper trailing just behind.

“Really? You did that in those shoes?” Shawna asked with a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “You’re pretty badass but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Tell me about it.

“Lesson learned,” I answered, finally lowering my gun while Tommy slipped handcuffs on Dimitri and jerked him to his feet.

“Do you have all the supporting documentation?” Shawna asked.

“You know I do,” I answered, rolling my eyes playfully before getting serious. “It’s all in my car outside.”

Tommy led Dimitri through the rear exit with a firm grip on his elbow and Shawna right on his heels. Cooper watched me from the corner of his eye as we followed.

“What took you so long?” I asked Cooper.

“He snuck around the other way. I saw him walk out the front and didn’t think much of it until he didn’t come back. By the time I was getting up to come check on you reinforcements were rollin’ in.”

“He must have known he was being watched,” I said, nodding slightly. “Next time though, give me a heads up if our target moves around.”

The look of remorse filling Cooper’s flushed face tore at me. He hadn’t meant to put me in harm’s way. I lifted a hand and gently patted his cheek, lifting half of my mouth into a soft smile to let him know things were good between us. Then the carpet grabbed my shoe and I stumbled.

“You ok?” he asked quietly, hand flying to my waist as I did my best not to collapse when my knee gave way.

“Yeah. I just tweaked my knee. I’ll be fine,” I answered, shrugging off the throbbing in my knee.

“Maybe you should save those shoes for after hours,” Cooper suggested with heat simmering in his soulful brown eyes.

“Maybe I will,” I said, looking away before he could see the blush creeping up my cheeks.

Oh good Lord!