my life,” she says finally. “However, with all the media attention surrounding the anniversary of my family’s murders, I decided it’s time to stop hiding.”
Fuck my life. Is a million dollars really worth this?
“Okay, if you’re who you say you are, I’m sure you won’t mind answering a few questions for me.”
She eyes me curiously but shrugs again. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Of course, you don’t.” Her confidence is insulting. If she expects me to regurgitate facts from some bullshit Wikipedia print-out, she doesn’t know who the hell she’s dealing with.
“So, what’s your birth date?”
She smiles. “June 28th.”
I nod. Hardly a challenge. That’s a common knowledge question. “What were the names of your siblings?”
She catches herself just as she starts to roll her eyes. “Oksana, Talina, Mariana, and Artem.”
I sit back and watch in fascination. Maybe not so much at the lies falling out of her mouth as the entertaining game of identity volleyball we’re playing. However, I’ve never been content to sit on the sidelines and spectate. I’m more of the jump in front and spike the ball type.
Pressing my palm against the table, I lean forward and invade every inch of her personal space. “Birthplace.”
She hesitates. “It’s…It’s…” She’s getting flustered, and I feed on it.
“Birthplace, Miss Romanov. It’s not that difficult. Surely, you remember it.”
Milly’s no longer laughing. Instead, I can feel the tension vibrating off her. She’s on guard and ready to pounce like a tiger on already wounded prey.
The woman’s pulse jumps in her neck, beating in time with her rapid breath. “Moscow.”
“Close. Kronstadt.” I’ve got her right where I want her, so I lob a soft one right over the net and make her lunge for it. “Where did you go to school?”
She smirks. “I had a tutor on set.”
“Very good, Naomi. And your pimp’s name?”
“Reggie.”
Gotcha, bitch.
You don’t survive in this business as long as I have without learning patterns and habits. As much as people like to think they’re unique, when it all boils down to it, we’re all just Xerox copies of the same original. Some of us are more complex full color prints, while others remain basic black and whites, but underneath the ink, we’re all just paper. We’re all predictable.
Once you learn that, no one’s mask is permanent. No one’s truth is hidden.
So, I wait for it. That brief moment when the disconnect between a liar’s mouth and their brain fuses into clarity. When they realize I’ve backed them into a corner with a proverbial knife at their throat.
That’s the investigative equivalent of a money shot right between the eyes, and Naomi Grecco’s face is coated with it.
As evidenced by the sudden hand clamped over her mouth.
Ah, sweet, sticky victory.
I probably should feel guilty about playing her, but I don’t. She’s the tool of a scam artist out to score an easy payday at my expense. I may not have the most dignified job in the world, but I’m no one’s meal ticket. Plus, if anyone’s going to get paid around here, it’s me.
As the seconds tick away, her palm drops from her mouth. “So, you busted me. Good for you. You gonna turn us into the cops now?”
It would serve both of them right for dragging my ass all the way to Chula Vista. Lucky for her, law enforcement and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.
“While it pisses me off you’ve wasted my whole day, I don’t think either of you is stupid enough to pull the same con twice.” I nod toward the burly, lumberjack-looking guy sitting two tables away who quickly averts his eyes and tries to look busy. “Especially now that I have this conversation on record.” I nod behind me where Milly smiles and waves her cell phone at her. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Naomi?”
She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t have to. Defeat is etched in the lines creasing her forehead. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t get to where I am in life by falling for a cheap line and a pretty face.” I nod back at the asshole trying to look like he hasn’t been cataloguing this whole shitshow. “Do you think you’re the first one to line up with your hand out? I pulled your ‘employer’s’ financials. This bar is going under, and your boss over there is desperate. Look, I get it. A million dollars is a lot of money, but DNA tests are a real thing, and identity theft is a felony.”