Page 4 of Maxim

What about the mayor?

A reply pings back almost immediately.

He hurts women.

OK, now they have my attention. I’ve been investigating him for months now, but so far, most of my leads have hit a brick wall. The guy is not only well-connected but also well-protected too. I suspect he has the backing of some of the more shadowy people in the city, but since they stay well below the radar, it’s impossible to be sure.

Mayor Kolanski is a snake. I’m well aware he abuses women.

Six months ago, a young woman called Maria came to see me. The mayor had hired her to work as a domestic servant in his country residence. Because she was an illegal, she didn’t complain when he started getting a bit too friendly. The situation escalated, and before long, he raped her.

Many times.

Maria said nothing to anyone because she was afraid of losing her job. If that had happened, she wouldn’t have been able to afford to support her family. It wasn’t until Kolanski started pimping her out to his friends that she found the courage to leave and seek me out. When I asked her why she didn’t go to the police, she explained they knew what went on. That’s when I realized how deep the rot went.

There had to be other women out there, women like her, women who had been abused by the mayor, but nobody would talk to me back then. The two I managed to track down insisted the mayor was a good man.

I knew they were lying and he’d likely paid them off, but nothing I said persuaded them to talk on or off the record.

Two weeks later, before my story could be published, Maria disappeared. My editor insisted I shelve the article because my only source had vanished. He was right to do that, but it didn’t stop me from being pissed. Mostly, though, I was worried sick about Maria.

I never heard from her again.

For a brief second, I wonder if this is Maria reaching out, but dismiss the thought almost immediately. My gut tells me someone discovered Maria was talking to me and either paid her off or forced her to leave.

Let’s talk. Name a time and place. I’ll be there.

I add my private cell number to the message and hit send. Ten minutes pass but there’s no reply, so I shove my phone into my purse and leave the office.

“Night, Miss Rossi,” Barry calls as I pass his desk in the front lobby.

“Night, Barry! I’ll be in nice and early tomorrow.”

He chuckles. “I know.”

***

Leo’s is packed with revelers. It takes me ages to push my way through the people standing five deep at the bar, but eventually, I reach the front.

“Vodka and soda, please.” The barman nods and pours me a shot in a tall glass over ice, topping it up with soda water. If this was a weekend, I’d drink wine, but I can’t afford to get too buzzed. Two drinks is my limit during the week.

The girls have snagged a corner booth and are surrounded by admirers. Jane looks up as I approach but Amanda is deep into a conversation with a tall blond guy who’s way too pretty for her. Poor bastard. She’ll eat that cute little puppy for breakfast.

“Nat! You came!” I’m slightly annoyed at her dig. It’s not my fault I cancel our plans more often than not. But I push my irritation aside and smile.

“I did! Now what have I missed?”

Jane pulls me into a hug. “Amanda’s found a new friend,” she whispers in my ear. “He’s a lifeguard, can you believe it?”

I snort with laughter. Amanda has a PhD in Applied Physics, yet she’s only ever attracted to guys with minimal brain cells. We haven’t quite figured out why, but we suspect it’s because smart men are threatened by her intelligence whereas the pretty, vapid ones don’t give a shit.

Amanda throws us both a glare but we both know she isn’t mad. She’ll take pretty boy home tonight, fuck his brains out for a couple of weeks, and then move on to the next. It’s what she does. I just hope that one day she meets a smart guy who isn’t completely emasculated by her intellect and successful career. There has to be someone like that out there, right?

Not that I’m a relationship expert. Rick was my last shot at happiness and look how that turned out. He disappeared the night he fractured my wrist.

Good riddance, the girls say, but while I can now sleep at night, it’s still odd that he upped and left so abruptly.

When I left the bar that night, I went straight to the nearest hospital to get my wrist treated. Rather than go home, I booked a room in a hotel, where Rick wouldn’t find me.

---