“Remy entering,” Connor reported.
“Details on the women?” Hawes said to Holt, back to business.
“Pulling information now,” Holt replied. “I’ll compile and send through the server. On your device in five.”
“Remy, nine o’clock,” Victoria said, just as motion at the far end of the mezzanine, on the other side of Hawes, drew Celia’s attention.
The crowd parted for a tall, striking woman who strode their direction with as much confidence as Helena typically moved but without the same grace. Remy, on first impression, seemed more the blunt-weapon sort, disguised as she was in skin-tight jeans, knee-high leather boots, and a shimmering metallic top under a leather jacket.
Following Celia’s gaze, Hawes rotated, caught sight of Remy and told Holt, “Gotta go.” He pocketed his phone as Remy sidled up next to him, front pressed against his side, hand on his shoulder. “You’re a new face,” she said, blatantly checking out Celia.
Celia projected all the confidence she could muster. Not enough to go toe to toe with this woman, but maybe enough to back her off a step. “I’m the one who took her off the market.”
A slow sly smile spread across Remy’s face. “Your fiancé’s sister?” she asked Hawes.
“The resemblance?”
“The cockiness.” Her gaze returned to Celia. “Though I like it much better on you.”
“Time’s tight, Remy,” Hawes said, and the other woman sighed dramatically.
She stepped from Hawes’s side to Celia’s and hooked an elbow through hers. “I don’t know if you know this,” she said, starting them walking toward the other end of the mezzanine. “But your brother and his pet mobster are real party poopers.”
“Sometime when Helena hasn’t been kidnapped,” Celia said, keeping Remy talking and friendly as she remained aware of her surroundings. They were in a hallway off the mezzanine, what appeared to be the club’s executive offices. “I’ll tell you about the old Chris. He wasn’t always a party pooper.”
Remy howled with laughter, and out of the corner of her eye, Celia caught Hawes’s approving smile. Smiles and laughter died, though, as they entered one of the offices to find Lenny gagged and bound to a chair. Across from Lenny, standing behind the desk, was an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and dark blue eyes. Much like the Madigans, had Celia seen him on the street or in a restaurant, she would have assumed he was any other wealthy San Franciscan, not the head of the Russian mob here in Fog City.
Hawes approached the desk, his hand extended. “Dimitri.”
“Hawes,” Dimitri Petrov greeted, his voice lightly accented. “It’s been too long. I’ve been wanting to tell you I commend what you and your siblings have done with your organization. Made all our lives easier.”
“Thank you.” He eyed Lenny. “And you brought us a present?”
Lenny squirmed in his chair as if he could sense the combined danger of the three other people in the room. His eyes kept darting back to Celia, beseeching, like he thought she could do anything to get him out of this pickle. “Don’t look at me.” She motioned around the room. “We’re all here because of your poor life choices.”
“She’s smart too,” Remy said with a wink.
“We didn’t pick him up,” Dimitri answered Hawes’s question. “Someone left him on our doorstep with these.” He opened his fist and in his palm were a pair of cufflinks the exact ice-blue shade as Hawes’s and Helena’s eyes.
He dropped them into Hawes’s hand, and Hawes smiled, a cold satisfied thing. “Did you know him?” Hawes asked as he pocketed the jewelry. “Before tonight?”
“He is an associate of Adrian’s. Not ours. And I did not nor do I intend to order a hit on your sister.”
“But one of your soldiers was involved in one,” Hawes said. “And that soldier has her now.”
“Not one of mine any longer. He used one of my men in prison to kill someone without authorization. Now I’ve lost that man. And when I wouldn’t take his meet, he went to the Ferriellos. Tried to bargain with them.”
“That’s how they got him?” Hawes said, approaching Lenny.
“I assume so.”
“Did he tell you anything helpful? Like where Zima might be holding my sister?”
Dimitri buttoned his coat as he circled the desk. “Leaving that for you.”
“Are you willing to help us?” Hawes’s tone was dead even, not letting on which answer he wanted, whether he cared one way or the other. If it were up to Celia, she’d take all the help she could get, but there was way more at play here than she knew or cared to know.
Dimitri came to a stop in front of Hawes. “I won’t interfere, and you’ll have Remy’s assistance.”