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brown eyes were red and puffy. She gasped with each breath, her chest rising and falling, on the verge of collapse.

Her brown hair was curled and hung a few inches below her shoulders. Like the other two, she wore a lot of makeup, but Steele was sure she hadn’t seen her sixteenth birthday yet. She couldn’t weigh more than ninety-five pounds.

“We want to help you.” Steele slid a box of tissue toward her.

She grabbed a couple of tissues and blew her nose.

Zerr set the Coke in front of her. They waited as she blew her nose a second and third time. The gasping stopped.

They leaned back and waited. Zerr slid a file folder over. Steele opened it. Just a note—No Record Found.

Finally, she grabbed the Coke and took a long drink. Over the next few minutes, she finished the Coke, but remained silent and never made eye contact.

Steele asked, “What is your name?”

Head down, she whispered, “Tatiana.”

Steele understood he was talking to someone young and terrified.

“Tatiana. That’s a lovely name.” He tapped his chest. “I’m Sam.”

She glanced up and sniffled. “Sam?”

“Sam.”

Tatiana nodded toward Zerr.

“My friend,” Sam said. “Charlie.”

“Militsiya?”

Steele glanced at Zerr.

“Eastern bloc name for police.” Zerr nodded to Tatiana. “Militsiya.”

Steele’s head swung toward Zerr, his eyes wide.

Tatiana’s eyes widened and her lips quivered. She wrapped her arms around her body and began rocking.

“Friend,” Steele said.

Zerr leaned over and whispered in Steele’s ear, “Droog.”

Steele tapped his chest again. “Droog.”

Tatiana shook her head. “Zloy.”

Zerr suppressed a smile and leaned toward Steele. “Wicked, sinister.” Then he faced Tatiana.“English?”

“Dah. Podsobit, um, help.”

Zerr nodded. “Yes.” He pointed to Steele, then himself. “Help.”

“Bring Martina,” Tatiana said.

Steele and Zerr stood outside the first interview room, occasionally glancing through the window in the door. Martina held Tatiana close, her arm around Tatiana’s shoulders.

“What the hell was with the Russian?” Steele asked.

“I learned a few words. I’m better at Vietnamese.” Zerr grinned.

“Maybe we should ask for a Russian interpreter,” Steele said.

Zerr rolled his eyes. “Sure, we’ve got hundreds of Russians on the job.”

“You’ll have to do, then,” Steele said. “Bella is a hardened woman. I got the feeling she’d kill me if given a chance. Although she liked you, quiet one.”

“Did you see her eyes?” Zerr asked. “Dark and dead. What the hell did they do to these girls?”

“You already know,” Steele said.

“Ah shit.” Zerr closed his eyes and groaned.

Steele peered into the room. “Martina knows more English than she lets on.”

Zerr snorted. “More law, too. How many people would ask for the prosecutor, not a lawyer?”

“That was an interesting request,” Steele said. “Martina has been in Canada for at least a few years. Tatiana is a recent arrival.”

“What does Martina have to deal?”

Steele shrugged. “We’ll find out when Blighe gets here.”

The door at the end of the hall opened and the desk sergeant escorted a lady toward them. Steele almost didn’t recognize Crown Prosecutor Jenni Blighe. He was used to seeing her in court, dressed professionally with her hair immaculately styled. Tonight, she wore a university T-shirt, jeans and sneakers. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. As she approached, she gave Steele and Zerr the ‘this better be worthwhile’ scowl.

“Why am I here at four in the morning?”

Steele started with the pimp killing to the tattoo parlor murders, and then that the evidence suggested Coulter was the killer.

“Are you kidding me? I saw the news, but even you guys think Coulter is behind the murders?”

“We don’t think he committed them,” Steele said. “But the evidence is more than circumstantial, it’s damning.”

“To be clear,” Zerr said, “we know Coulter didn’t do it. That’s why we tracked down these ladies. We don’t believe their statements.”

Blighe shook her head. “That’s a … I don’t know what the word is … a fantastic story. Major motion picture quality.”

“Except a career is on the line,” Steele said.

“Let’s see what she has to say,” Blighe said. “Let’s get in there.”

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Steele knocked, then opened the door and stepped back. Jenni Blighe stepped into the cramped interview room. She sat across from Martina and Tatiana, crossing her arms. Steele noticed the tight definition of her biceps. He’d heard she’d been obsessed with working out since her ordeal with Jeter Wolfe. He retreated to the corner of the room.

“I’m Jenni Blighe. I am a crown prosecutor. I understand you want to speak with me.”

Martina stared at Blighe. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so.” Blighe glanced at a file. “Martina, we’ve arrested you several times for prostitution and drugs. Perhaps you saw me in court?”

“Nyet. Not there.”

Blighe glanced at the other girl. Tatiana slunk back in the chair, trying to slip behind Martina. Blighe sat back, relaxed her posture and smiled.

“Tatiana?”

The girl nodded.

“I need to know you are talking to me voluntarily, and the officers”—Blighe glanced at Steele—“have not in any way influenced your decision.”

Martina stared at Steele. “We go to jail, no?”

Blighe shook her head. “No, you will not go to jail.”

“They not make us talk. I decide is okay.”

“This is your and Tatiana’s choice,” Blighe said.

Martina placed a hand on Tatiana’s arm. “Dah, we choose. I talk for both. We talk, no jail.”

Blighe nodded. “Correct. No jail.”

“You help us be safe?” She glanced at Steele. “No men?”

“I guarantee that,” Blighe said.

“Ask questions.”

Blighe grabbed a pen and a yellow legal pad. “Were you two in the tattoo parlor when the murders happened?”

“Dah,” Martina said.

Blighe’s blue eyes darted between the teens. “Did either of you see the face of the murderer?”

“Nyet.”

Blighe cocked her head “Did the murderer talk to you?”

“Dah.”

Blighe straightened. “What did he say?”

“Gave money. Tell us to go. Said if cops get us, say what we saw, but tell cop’s black car outside.”

Blighe scribbled notes. “That’s all he said?”

Tatiana whispered in Martina’s ear. “Ya, bird on front of car.”

“A bird.” Blighe glanced at Steele. “Then what did you do?”

“We go out to street.”

“Did you see the black car with the bird?”

“Nyet.”

“No car?”

Tatiana vigorously shook her head.

“Did the man say or do anything else?”

Tatiana whispered to Martina. “Why

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