Chapter 6

Jane grinned down at her phone, reading through a text promising her some badly needed information. It had been three long weeks since Sitnikov's visit to her apartment and she hadn't been able to find any more leads in her murder case. She had searched tirelessly through boxes of evidence to come up empty every time. She had returned to Yankovich's apartment and gone over it again with a fine tooth comb, which yielded nothing more than the original search. Sitnikov was better than even she had believed, and she was looking at him harder than anyone else in the force. Like any other crime that seemed to link back to the Russian, all the evidence slid off of him like oil on leather.

She'd been ready to break with protocol and drag the man back in for another interview when one of her confidential informants had finally come through for her. Jane dropped her phone in her purse and forced back a shout of triumph. Her abysmal luck on the Sitnikov case was about to change. She wanted the dirty mobster behind bars so bad she could taste it. Maybe, just maybe, she would finally get to see him there.

Jane stood to gather her purse and coat. Gruber raised an eyebrow in her direction, but was busy with a phone conversation so couldn't ask his partner what she was up to. She mimed going for a meeting and when he asked if she wanted backup she shook her head and traced the letters C I in the air with her finger  confidential informant. Most CIs were jumpy around cops and nervous enough divulging information to one cop, let alone two. Jane was smaller and less intimidating than most cops, so she usually took the CIs when one of them needed information.

She parked her compact vehicle outside of the diner she usually met with "Desiree" and waited until she saw the woman go inside. Desiree wore a minuscule, tight purple skirt tonight with a short jean jacket over a brief top that showed off a swath of her toned ebony stomach. Her four inch silver heels put her at more than a foot taller than Jane. The woman was incredibly built and did good business on the streets. She'd been picked up on possession and, knowing what happened to women like her in a men's prison, had agreed to work with the police rather than risk death in a federal penitentiary.

Jane hated the way police could trap confidential informants by threatening them with jail and then flipping them. But she wasn't judgmental enough to not use them when needed. She tried to develop a special relationship with the few she worked with so they wouldn't resent it as much and she made sure the monetary compensation for their information was worth it. Some of them were scum to deal with, but not this one.

She entered the shop behind Desiree and signalled the woman behind the counter for a coffee, then sat down opposite her informant. Desiree was the one Jane liked best, having built a relationship on mutual honesty and a dislike of things that were unfair. There was no pretence between the two and they had developed a genuine friendship over the past few years.

"How're things Des?" she asked, stirring a spoonful of sugar and a creamer into her coffee.

The other woman shrugged, her sparkling make-up dazzling in the harsh lighting of the diner. "It's as good as ever, coplette. I eat. I have a place to sleep. Can't ask for much more than that."

Jane laughed at the pet name Desiree liked to call her, like her stature made her less than a real cop. Desiree knew better, as the petite woman sitting opposite her had been her arresting officer before becoming a detective on the homicide squad.

"No one being rough out there?" Jane asked seriously. She hated hearing of girls getting beaten up on the streets, but she especially hated when it was one of hers.

"Same old," Desiree replied with a shrug, digging into a big slice of chocolate cake that was set in front of her. "No new predators, if that's what you mean. Believe me, after that serial took out all those girls in Seattle, I would tell you if I saw something going on."

"I know you would."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes while Desiree enjoyed her cake. Jane realized how few friends she really had when it hit her that she was far more comfortable sitting here chatting with a woman who worked as a prostitute, who she had once arrested, than with anyone else of her acquaintance. Even Gruber wasn't a particularly enjoyable man to be around socially. He was too much of a cop stereotype for her liking. He drank too much and enjoyed the power of his job a little too much.

"I heard you got tangled up with the Boss," Desiree said, bringing up the reason for their meeting. "He's bad news my friend. Better to just let that one go."

Jane frowned in annoyance and replied, "That's not going to happen, so if you invited me here just to warn me away from him then you can forget it. I've been warned away from him by the man himself, his sister and my own partner. I don't back down, Des. You should know that better than anyone."

Desiree sighed heavily. "Of course I do. But I've grown to like my adorable little coplette and I don't want you to turn up dead."

"I can take care of myself," Jane replied dryly. She was getting sick of everyone suggesting she might need assistance and warnings. She was a grown woman and had been on her own since she was sixteen years old. She could handle herself.

"I know, baby, I'm not saying otherwise," Desiree said soothingly. She leaned back in the booth and pushed her empty plate to the edge of the table where the waitress whisked it away. "I do have something, if you want it."

Jane sat up straighter and leaned forward, smiling in anticipation. "Absolutely."

"Well, I have this good friend who sometimes hangs out with those guys over at one of the Russian owned restaurants  the one where the mobster types like to hang out. She appeals to their type I guess and can make good business over there. She was telling me about this conversation she overheard. One of those guys came over from the motherland a few weeks ago and he had a little too much to drink and was spouting off about some business or other involving the big guy himself. He was bragging about it and saying how he wants to learn from the best and only one guy knows how to run this city."

"They were talking about Sitnikov," Jane murmured.

Desiree shrugged her broad shoulders. "No names were said, but there's only one Boss in this town."

"Go on, what else did your friend find out?" Jane asked, barely able to contain her excitement.

"The guy was saying about how he heard from another guy that the Yankovich business was done real professional, like vicious but clean. Apparently the Boss don't mind getting his hands dirty still and he impressed the hell out of this new guy by taking care of business himself. Then they heard about the cops sniffing around and everything went real quiet until the cops settle down. Only one cop never settled. She keeps digging and digging. The Boss is annoyed that this squeaky clean little detective got her hands on some of his financials so he had his lawyer bring everything over to the big house for an audit. It's only there for the next few days while they comb through everything and make sure there's no trace of Yankovich."

Jane sat in stunned silence for a moment. This is what she had been waiting for! She finally had him. She lunged across the booth, grabbed Desiree and kissed her quickly on the lips. She dropped an envelope in Desiree's lap and slid out of the booth.

Desiree chuckled deeply, "You know I don't go for girls, coplette." She looked Jane up and down. "Although I might be convinced to experiment."

Jane laughed and winked. "Make sure you give a little to your friend that likes to hang with the Russians. You both earned it!" She dropped some money on the counter on her way out, paying for the coffee and cake before speeding off to collect on an outstanding favour from a judge and get herself a search warrant.