Loose Ends by D. D. Vandyke Page B

hoping we can work together to avoid them all.”
    “I get the feeling you haven’t involved those in your former profession yet. I have friends in the police department. Perhaps I should inform them and they should handle it.”
    “You’re right. I haven’t, because the department always works too slow once word gets to the higher ups. If I told one of my own friends on the force they might make some progress, but no more than I can. Mister Luger, I have only one goal: get the girl back to her mother. If you can help make that happen I’d be happy to split my fee with you and still owe you that favor.”
    “I’m not interested in your money,” Luger said, tapping his finger on the rim of his highball. “The favor…perhaps. I’ll make some discreet inquiries.”
    “Thank you.” I thought he was putting me off. He’d probably make those inquiries, but whether he’d pass anything he learned to me was doubtful.
    “I’d like to see you. When the girl has been found and you have some time, that is.”
    That flipped things around. Maybe he would tell me what he found out after all. No way I was getting involved with this neo-Nazi, but I could use him if I was careful. “I’m open to possibilities,” I said, lifting my glass. “Allies, then.”
    “I do believe we’re the Axis, actually,” he replied.
    I laughed, standing to reach for a pen and paper on his desk nearby. “Here’s my cell number. Call me when you have something.”
    Luger had come to his feet as I stood. When I gave him the paper he reached up to brush the hair back from my scars. I fought down an instinct to slap his hand away. “Don’t do that,” I said, stepping out of reach.
    “There is much beauty in pain,” he replied.
    “Not to me.”
    “You’re not a proper judge. I am the beholder and I see beauty.”
    I swallowed. Whether or not it was an act, Luger’s quirky observation touched me, made me feel better somehow. Maybe it was that I’d seen no pity in his eyes, only interest, even fascination. “Thanks,” I said.
    Luger escorted me to his front door under the watchful eyes of his thugs and gave my weapons back to me before solemnly kissing my hand. “ Auf wiedersehen .”
    “Yeah, sayonara to you too.”
    Red glowered at the exchange but the older man ignored him, nodding at me as we left. “So what was that all about?” he asked as we walked through the front door this time, past another pair of guards. Back to Vyazma we went.
    “We have an arrangement. I charmed him.”
    “He’s bad news.”
    I glanced over at him. “You’re turning green, Red. Nothing to worry about.”
    “Whatever,” he said, his tone grumpy as we approached Sergei’s club. “So, you coming back to my place or what?”
    “Not tonight, but thanks.”
    “Play a few hands, then?” Hope springs eternal.
    “No time,” I replied as we walked in the door.
    “Fine. I’m hitting the tables.” He pulled a roll of cash out of his pocket.
    “Good luck.”
    Red only snorted with pique and frustration as he turned his back on me and headed for the poker room door.

Chapter 7
    I slid into an empty booth, waving at Sergei. He smiled and returned the gesture, looking relieved. I was happy to ease his mind.
    Of all the people I wished I could reach at one-thirty this morning, Cole Sage topped my list. In my experience the journalist was a bulldog with a story. To get it he’d take calls at any hour and stay up for days if necessary. He also knew just about everything that went on in this city, legit or not, but all I had was his office number.
    I could call Mickey and he’d give me Cole’s private cell, but then I’d have to explain where I got it. “Who cares?” I muttered aloud as I called my office. When the answering machine beeped I growled, “Mickey, pick up. It’s Cal. Come on, Mickey –”
    “Cal, hi,” Mickey’s breathless voice came on. “What’s going on?”
    “Still haven’t beat that boss?”
    “You’re the only boss