Page 79 of Nobody's Girl

“I want to watch.”

Grant grabbed Tamara’s throat. “Get rid of them” he intoned, “or I’ll end you myself.”

Stumbling back as he released her, Tamara fled, anger and fear roiling through her. She closed the door behind her, sliding the iron covering that melded seamlessly into the wall across it.  She straightened herself up and slipped along to her office on the floor above. Make it look as if you’re just working. They’ll never hear anything down there, not with the soundproofing. They’ll never find the room. She was disappointed she would see Grant kill Sofia but if she was successful, she’ll still see the body afterward.

She sat at her desk and opened her computer. In less than two minutes, Penn Black pushed into the room and she stood, feigning surprise. “Penn! I thought you said you never wanted to see…”

“Cut the crap, Tamara. Where’s Sofia?”

Ivo Zacca followed Penn in, and Tamara couldn’t help but marvel at his angry beauty. “Last I knew she was in Paris with Mr. Zacca, here. Hello again.”

Ivo’s eyes narrowed. “Where is she, Tamara? Where is Grant Christo?”

Tamara smiled and walked to her drinks cabinet. “I honestly couldn’t tell you. Drink?”

When the attack came, it was Ivo who shoved her violently against the wall, gripping her throat. What was it with men grabbing women’s throats?

“I hate violence against woman,” Ivo said in a voice trembling with rage and fear for his love, “But for you I would make an exception, you murderous piece of shit. I’ll ask again: where is my wife?”

Being gutted even as we speak. Tamara would have loved to have said that to him, but she had a feeling that she wouldn’t live very long if she did. “Okay. Okay, I’ll tell you what I know, just please, let me go.”

“Don’t trust her,” Penn said but Ivo released her throat. He had no need for it, his physical presence was enough to intimidate her.

Tamara straightened her clothes. “Yes, she’s with Grant as far as I know…and willingly, I assume. He called me this morning to tell me he was bringing her back to New York, but I told him…she’s not my family anymore. I don’t know where he has her, but I have his address. It’s a start. Have you called the police?”

Both Penn and Ivo just stared blankly at her and Tamara played her role to perfection, rolling her eyes and picking up her phone. She held it out to Ivo. “Call them. I’m sure for Walter Zacca’s son, they’ll jump right to it.”

Penn and Ivo looked at each other. They were buying it. “Look,” she said, “I’m being honest here, I don’t care what happens to Sofia, whether she lives or dies. I wouldn’t insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise. But I don’t know where she is.”

Penn took the phone in her outstretched hand and called the police. Ivo stared at Tamara, who smiled at him, her red lips stretching, her tongue tracing a pattern of her lower lip. “Remembering our kiss?” She said it softly, intimately like a lover and watched Ivo’s lip curl in disgust.

“You’re a whore,” he said, ice in his tone, “And Sofia knows that.”

“So, why did she run away? And careful who you call a whore. Mr. Zacca, I know all about you, and Sofia, and Penn. I have video that could go viral so the less time you spend threatening me the better.”

Penn finished up his call. “They want us to go down to the station,” he said to Ivo, then looked at Tamara. “If I find out you have anything to do with Sofia’s disappearance…”

“I know. You’ll kill me.” Tamara gave him a strange smile. “I look forward to it.”

The two men made their way back up to the main club and were walking out. “She’s lying.” Penn shook his head as Ivo spoke.

“I know. She’s beyond evil…why the hell did I never see it?”

Ivo stopped and studied his friend. “You love her.”

“No. I thought I did…but I don’t think I ever knew what love was until I saw you and Sofia together.”

He regretted saying that because he saw the heartbreak in his friend’s eyes and knew he was on the verge of losing it. “Hey, we’ll find her.”

As they walked out, the same cleaning woman who let them in, walked past them. Suddenly Ivo stopped. “Hey!” He went after the woman, who squeaked in fright and dropped everything she was holding. She disappeared somewhere into the club, but Ivo wasn’t going after her. Instead he stopped where she’d dropped her stuff and from the pile, he pulled out a backpack. Worn and in some places threadbare, the pack yielded as he tugged it open and gave a low moan.

“It’s Sofia’s….she’s here, god dammit….”

And they both ran back into the darkness of the club.