card. Think about your situation and call me if you want to talk. It will be easier talking to me than the FBI.”
Dana was halfway out the door when Starr asked, “Is that photographer still coming?”
“From what you’ve told me, there’s no story. If you change your mind, you know where to reach me.”
The door closed behind Dana, and Starr put her eye to the peephole. When Cutler started down the stairs, Tiffany started pacing. She hadn’t signed on for this, she told herself. All she was supposed to do was tell some stuff to Barry that was going to help him get out of jail. Nothing was supposed to happen to her. Reporters weren’t supposed to be coming around. Parkhurst had mentioned the FBI, for Christ’s sake. No one had said the FBI was going to be involved.
Starr lit up a cigarette and wished she had some blow in the apartment. Fucking rehab! She really wanted to get away from that shit, but a little powder would calm her down, and she needed to be calm to think this through.
Starr flopped onto the recliner. She stared at the ceiling as if she believed an answer might appear there. She took a deep drag on her smoke and thought about the FBI. She definitely did not want anything to do with the FBI. Someone was going to have to fix this because she was definitely going to look out for number one if the F-fucking-B-fucking-I came to call. And there was only one person who could fix this, the person who had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
Starr levered herself out of her chair and grabbed her phone.
“We have a problem,” she said as soon as Charles Benedict answered. “I just got a visit from a reporter for Exposed. She knows I talked to Barry at the jail.”
“I don’t think it’s wise to discuss this matter over the phone, do you?”
“What I don’t think is wise is for me to go down for Barry’s shit.”
“Let’s meet someplace and talk about this calmly.”
“I’ll meet, but you better be prepared to sweeten the pot, because the reporter was talking about the FBI, and she mentioned your name.”
“She mentioned me?”
“Yeah, Charlie. She wanted to know if you told me to talk to Barry.”
“I’m sorry if the reporter bothered you, but you have nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of you. I have meetings all afternoon, but we can meet tonight. That will give me time to go to the bank.”
Starr hung up. The possibility of getting some cash got her worked up. She was almost sorry Barry would be getting out, too. All Barry had brought her was trouble. She danced her ass off at the club and brought home peanuts, which that son of a bitch always managed to sweet-talk her into giving him. And there were his big schemes, the sure things, get-rich-quick plans that never panned out.
Tiffany was sick of being broke, and she knew Barry screwed anyone who’d let him. Fucking Barry. He was the root of all of her problems. Maybe she should rat him out. If she made a deal with the feds they could put her in witness protection. She’d be able to get out of this shithole. Maybe they’d send her someplace nice, like Hawaii or Las Vegas. She really liked Las Vegas.
Tiffany made a decision. She’d meet with Benedict and see what he had to offer. If it wasn’t enough, she’d call the reporter, rat out Barry, and get the fuck out of Dodge.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Nikolai Orlansky put up Gregor Karpinski’s bail as a reward for beating up Barry Lester. A few nights after getting out of jail, Gregor showered, shaved, and dressed in his flashiest clothes. Then he headed for The Scene in College Park, Maryland, a nightclub owned by Orlansky that catered to the students at the University of Maryland. Orlansky used it to launder money, and Gregor worked as a bouncer at the club on the weekends. During the week, he tried his luck with the college girls who frequented the bar. Nikolai gave Gregor permission to screw these girls as long as the sex was consensual. Nikolai did not want the club getting any bad publicity, so rape and roofies were a no-no. Gregor followed Orlansky’s rules scrupulously, ever since he had been forced to watch Nikolai use a scalpel, pliers, and a power drill on a colleague who had raped a coed he had picked up