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Jorge said before Jasmine could answer.

      “Jorge, I am sorry, I don’t think that he’s interested in you,” Natasha said. “He did express interest in Jasmine. But we shall see. Be nice to him, if he should see you or try to contact you. But if he does so, you must let me know right away.”

      “Of course,” Jasmine said, eyes wide. “I know that you’ll watch out for me.”

      “Yes, of course. We will watch out for you,” Natasha said. She smiled. “We are family here. So, now, come with me. There will be another event soon enough. We will mourn Josef, of course. But so many are dependent on us for a living, we cannot stop. We will have a memorial or something this weekend on the beach. You will be part of it. We are family, yes? We don’t let our people...down. For now, you will give Victor Kozak your...condolences.”

      Give him their condolences. If this had been happening just years earlier, they might well have been expected to kneel and kiss Kozak’s ring.

      She and Jorge both smiled naively. “Definitely,” Jasmine said.

      They rose; Jasmine led them down the hall.

      Antonio and Alejandro were by the door to the office. Jasmine knew that Sasha Antonovich had to still be guarding the door.

      Natasha tapped on the door to the office. Kozak called out, “Come in,” and they entered.

      He was alone, poring over papers that lay on the table before him.

      “We’re so sorry for your loss,” Jasmine ventured timidly when Kozak didn’t look up.

      “The police are still in the club downstairs,” he said, shaking his head. “They want to know about the balconies. I want to help them. I want to find the person who did this to our beloved Josef. But the balconies were closed off. Just with velvet cords, of course, but... Ah, Jasmine! We were all so enchanted with your performance,” he said, looking up. “And you, too, of course. You were the perfect foil for the girls,” he told Jorge.

      “Thank you,” Jorge murmured.

      “I don’t know who was on the balcony,” Victor went on. “We’d said there would be no one on the balcony.”

      “Maybe the police have ways to find out,” Jorge suggested in a hopeful voice.

      Victor Kozak waved a hand in the air. “Maybe, maybe not. We’ll keep up our own line of questioning. Anyway...”

      He seemed to stop in midthought and gave his attention to them. “Please, I know that you were hired by Josef, but...it is my sincere hope that you will remain with us. We pay our regular models a retainer, which you will receive while we wait for this...for this painful situation to be behind us. That is, if you still wish to be with us.”

      “For sure!” Jasmine said.

      “Retainer? Me, too?” Jorge asked hopefully.

      Kozak glanced over at Natasha. She must have given him her approval with the slightest nod.

      “Yes, you were quite the centerpiece for our lovely young girls. We have a reputation for always having beautiful people in our clubs. All you need to do is be around, available to us, and maybe meet some people we’d like to introduce you to. Please, we will be in touch. You may come in tomorrow for your paychecks.”

      They both thanked him profusely. Natasha led them down to the street.

      As they were going out, Kari Anderson was just arriving. She threw her arms around Jasmine, shaking.

      “I don’t think I had a chance to thank you. You saved my life!” Kari told her.

      “Kari, I just made you get down,” Jasmine said, flushing and very aware that both Natasha and Sasha were watching the exchange. “Instinct!” she added quickly. “And we’re all just so lucky...except for poor Josef.”

      “I know, it’s so terrible,” said the young blonde, her empathy real. Jasmine liked Kari. She was an honest kind person who seemed oblivious to her natural beauty. “Josef was always nice. It’s so sad. Terrible that people do these things today! Terrible that poor Josef was caught in it all.”

      Naive—just like Mary, Jasmine thought. Not lacking confidence but unaware of just how much they had to offer.

      “Come on up. We will straighten all out with you, Kari,” Natasha said. “We will be all right. Victor will see to it,” she added. “Now, you two run along and try to enjoy some downtime. Kari, come with me. We will have work for all of you—you needn’t stress.”

      “See you, Kari,” Jorge said, waving.

      He and Jasmine started down the street while Natasha led Kari past Sasha and up the stairs.

      “I worry about her,” Jasmine said.

      “I worry about all of us,” Jorge said. “I was worried about the two of us unarmed during the show. We were taking a major chance.”

      “We knew there would be cops all over.”

      “Right. And Josef Smirnoff is dead and bullets were flying everywhere.”

      She couldn’t argue that.

      “So, tomorrow, we go back for our checks. Our retainer checks,” she murmured.

      “And you know we’re going to be asked to do something for those checks.”

      “At least I don’t think they’re remotely suspicious of us,” Jasmine told him.

      “Not yet. We’re still new.”

      “Kari came in just ahead of me,” Jasmine said. “She...she was a replacement for Mary, I think.”

      “Here’s the thing—what do we do when they want something from us that we don’t want to do?” Jorge asked. “We haven’t gotten anyone to admit to any criminal activity. If they ask you to be an escort, that’s actually legal. So, you go off with someone they set you up with—and that guy wants sex. What do you do? Arrest the guy? That won’t get us anywhere. And you sure as hell aren’t going to compromise yourself.”

      “You may be asked first.”

      “I’m pretty—but not as pretty as you are.”

      Jasmine laughed. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, you know.”

      “Trust me on this. You’ll be first. They’ll tread a little more lightly with me.”

      Jasmine shook her head. “We have to get in more tightly, hear things and find something on them. You’re right. They’ll deny they have anything to do with illegally selling sex—I’m sure they’ve got that all worked out.” She sighed. “I guess that our FBI connection will do a better job—he’ll find out what they’re doing with the money.”

      “How do we prove murder?” Jorge asked softly.

      Jasmine lowered her head.

      Jorge took her shoulders and spun her around to look at him. “We don’t know that Mary is dead.”

      “I know,” she whispered.

      She was startled when her phone started to ring; it was a pay-as-you-go phone, one purchased in her cover name, Jasmine Alamein.

      She looked at Jorge. “It’s Natasha.”

      “Answer it!”

      “Ah, Jasmine, my darling,” Natasha said. “I’m so glad to reach you so quickly.”

      “Yeah, no problem,” Jasmine said.

      “We have a favor to ask of you. It includes a bonus, naturally.”

      “What is it?” Jasmine asked. Jorge was staring at her, wary.

      “That friend of Josef’s—Mr. Marensky. He is new in town. He has asked if you would be so good as to

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