She knew the man in the Beemer last night. Knew him well, in fact—he’d been her last case as a cop. She was investigating the murder of a woman captured on a video surveillance tape. The tape had been brought to her by Ellie Foreman. It wasn’t a snuff film, but it might as well have been. They learned that the victim had been in the clutches of a former lieutenant in the Soviet military. After the USSR collapsed, he sold weapons off a base in Soviet Georgia. When that dried up, he emigrated to the States and ran hookers, drugs, and small arms deals. Eventually he partnered with a prominent Chicago developer, Max Gordon.
His name was Vlad. No last name. Just Vlad. Now, ten years later, he apparently had resurfaced. Running a hooker ring, a baby farm, and an organ transplant business.
Georgia threw off the blankets, got out of bed, and brewed a pot of coffee. She couldn’t take Vlad by herself. He and his men would be well armed and itching for combat. She might be able to get inside, deal with one or two of them, but she would need reinforcements on the way out.
She didn’t want to go to the police—it still wasn’t a solid case for them—too many maybes and what-ifs and too little evidence. If they did decide to get involved, they’d screw it up. Cops were not known for their delicacy. They’d storm the farm with massive firepower; if she was there, Savannah would be caught in the crossfire. She didn’t want to get Jimmy involved, either. Whatever happened would complicate their relationship, assuming they still had a chance for one. She needed outside help. Powerful help.
The coffeepot beeped. She poured a mug, drank half, then showered and dressed. While she was blow-drying her hair, the notion took shape. It was crazy. Even subversive. But it was a way to fight fire with fire.
She stared at the phone. Matt was trying to put his life back together, and she’d promised herself she wouldn’t exploit their relationship. Then she thought of the times he’d exploited her for one thing or another. Of course, she’d let him. She’d hoped that would make him love her more.
She took in a breath. She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but her options were limited, and she couldn’t waste time. She punched in Matt’s number.