Look-Alike. Meredith Fletcher

comfortable with that,” Joachim replied. “I’m exposed here.”

      “You don’t have a choice,” she said coldly.

      “I do.” Joachim stood.

      “Leave before I say you can and I’ll make sure your mother, sister and niece don’t live to see the dawn.”

      The threat hammered Joachim squarely between the eyes. The woman knew about his family. He was certain Günter had not told her. Whatever else Günter was, he wouldn’t expose his family or anyone else’s to danger. It only proved that the woman’s knowledge of Joachim went deep.

      “All right,” Joachim said. He seethed inside. He’d moved his sister and mother to Munich so his and Günter’s enemies wouldn’t hurt them. “I’ll stay here until you’re finished.” Then, if you ever cross my path again, I’ll kill you.

      Chapter 4

      Dmitri’s Private Entertainment stood in the middle of one of the long alleys in the old side under an office building. The alley rode up a hill and the sex club was near the top. Recessed back under a tall building, a short flight of stairs led up to the establishment. The offices above were strictly low rent, but the sex club offered the promise of more exciting fare.

      Dark red neon lights that blazed like coals spelled out Dmitri’s. Information about club hours was painted on the dark glass in English and Dutch. No cameras were allowed. It wasn’t a place she’d willingly have gone by herself. She didn’t feel comfortable with the prospect now.

      But Elle showed no hesitation.

      The club lobby was ornate, furnished with Old World splendor. Antique chairs and tables sat on either side of the room under soft nude photographs of women with tigers, in the show and lounging on high-performance cars. Freshcut flowers filled the vases on the tables. The whole package looked expensive and exotic. The two security guards in black suits added dangerous to the mix.

      Elle fished money out of her pants pocket and paid the cover charge to the young woman at the desk inside the club’s lobby. “I’m looking for someone,” Elle said, catching the woman’s hand and curling the change up into her palm. The offer was evident.

      The young woman considered the bills rolled up into her hand. “Perhaps,” she said, obviously desirous of the cash she was holding.

      “A guest,” Elle said. “Not anyone who works here.”

      Regretful reluctance filled the woman’s eyes. “Our clientele is most important, miss. I cannot abuse the trust that they—”

      “Tuenis Meijer,” Elle went on.

      Both security guards stood.

      Sam turned slightly to address them. Her hand dropped to the bag containing the .45, but she hoped she wouldn’t have to use it to threaten them.

      The hostess considered for a moment, then rolled her hand up to more tightly clutch the money. She waved the two security guards back into their chairs. “Some guests are more welcome than others.” She glanced at the LCD computer monitor built into the top of the desk. “In room nine. He’s awaiting Fatima.”

      “Where’s room nine and who is Fatima?” Elle asked.

      “Go through those doors.” The young woman pointed an elegantly nailed finger at the entrance to her left. “That gets you into the main room, where clients meet the girls. Stay to the left and go up the stairs. Room nine is marked at the landing. Fatima is one of the club employees. Tuenis Meijer has a special…interest in her. She’s not the first. I suspect she won’t be the last. He’s…impressionable.”

      “Thank you.” Elle started for the ornate double doors. They didn’t open.

      The hostess looked at her. “If anyone inside is harmed, you won’t make it back out of there.”

      “Understood,” Elle said.

      With a nod, the hostess tapped a sequence on the keyboard in front of her. The double doors unlocked with an electronic hum.

      Raucous rock music from inside the room slammed into Sam as she followed Elle into the room. Furnished in more of the Old World furniture, primarily sofas and deep chairs, the sitting room looked large enough accommodate forty people. At present, most of the twenty-three there were scantily clad young women posing their wares for prospective clients. Some of those clients, Sam was surprised to see, were women.

      With calm confidence, Elle led the way.

      Sam followed with more trepidation. The club was a closed arena. The walls held no windows. She knew there had to be other ways out, but she didn’t know them. Elle didn’t appear daunted. Has she been here before? Sam wondered. There was so much she didn’t know about her sister.

      The door to room nine was unlocked. Elle turned the knob and walked in.

      Tuenis Meijer lay in the tangled scarlet silk bedclothes. Sam recognized the man from the digital images Alex and Allison had sent.

      The computer expert was better groomed than he had been in most of the images. Shaggy hair shadowed his narrow, pinched face and he looked younger than his late thirties. Slightly built and maybe an inch or two taller than Sam, he didn’t look threatening. Especially while he was naked and had an expectant smile on his homely face.

      The smile wilted as he surveyed his two visitors.

      “You’re not Fatima.” Tuenis reached down to pull the sheet up to his neck.

      “No,” Elle agreed. She took his clothes from the folding butler and tossed them to him. “Get dressed.”

      “What?”

      “Dress,” Elle said. “Now. Or I’m going to hurt you.”

      With a single jerk, Elle tore the sheet from the computer expert’s naked body. He yelped in embarrassment and dove for his clothes.

      Sam’s silence bothered Elle. At the train station, her sister had seemed glad to see her, even though the present assignment had hung over both of them. Now, Sam seemed a million miles away. It was more than a little unsettling.

      From Dmitri’s, Elle led the way to Achterburgwal Canal and flagged down a water taxi. The pilot didn’t ask about Tuenis Meijer, who had sat between them with his hands taped behind him. In Amsterdam, Elle knew from past experience, only the ordinary seemed to attract attention after dark.

      They left the water taxi only a short distance from Rusland Street where the houseboat was moored. According to Sam’s information and Tuenis’s very believable honesty, he lived there alone.

      “What’s bothering you?” Elle asked. She spoke in Russian because it wasn’t a language Tuenis was reputed to know.

      For a moment, Sam continued on in silence. “Tonight didn’t go as I’d planned.”

      “You have the man you came to get.”

      “This should have been simple.”

      “It was,” Elle argued. How could her sister not think tonight’s activities were anything but simple?

      “We got into a gunfight in a sex shop.”

      “How would you have gone about getting our guest, then?” Elle asked.

      After a few steps, Sam admitted, “I don’t know.”

      “You said time was of the essence.”

      Reluctantly, Sam nodded. “It is. But I know a simple retrieval op shouldn’t be as high profile as this one has been.” She paused. “Obviously you have your own way of working, Elle, but it’s not my way. It’s not what I feel was warranted in this situation.”

      Elle stopped and stopped Tuenis as well. She held on to the man’s elbow possessively. Tuenis shrank away, as if afraid he was about to be ripped apart.

      “You’ve