Tell Me No Lies by Annie Solomon Page A

Nana on the phone, and go to sleep. You'll be fine." Despite the softness in his voice, his jaw was tense, a muscle working. "Don't worry about it," he said in a new, more adult voice. "Ma, it's okay. I don't mind." He sighed. "All right. I'll be there soon as I can."
    He ended the call, put the phone back in his pocket, and took a long swig of the bottle the waitress had just brought
    "Who is Pickles?"
    His gaze slid over to her, the green eyes shuttered. "Bodyguard. Guardian of Sweet Dreams. In the shape of a huge purple dinosaur. Stuffed."
    "Your daughter?" She tried to imagine him married with children. A flash of something like anger lit her up. What was he doing here with her if he had a wife and child home waiting?
    "Niece."
    Oh. "Where's her own daddy?"
    "Dead." The word was curt, the tone a roadblock.
    But the glimpse she'd had of another side of Detective Bonner had been revealing. The gruff kindness that had slipped out at Luka's apartment wasn't an act he put on for her. It was genuine. She pictured the little girl and her purple dinosaur, remembering a time when she, too, had nightmares. Something fluttered inside her chest, sadness and sympathy. And an urge to return the kindness.
    "It appears you have a previous engagement, Detective. Maybe we should get down to business. How can I help your
    "What do you know about Miki Petrov?"
    A pulse jumped inside her. Why did he harp on Miki? Had he made a connection between him and Luka and wanted to trick her into confirming it? "Why? Do you think he had something to do with Luka's death?" A film of dread settled on the back of her neck, cold and unpleasant.
    "I don't know. I'm going on gut here. I don't have anything that ties mem together except a newspaper article we found in Kole's wallet about Renaissance Oil."
    "So you're fishing."
    He shrugged. "I'm exploring possibilities. It's a long shot, but then, so were you, and look who you turned out to be."
    She peered down at the table to hide a flush of embarrassment. So much to hide. So much she couldn't say.
    "So tell me about Petrov. Who is he?"
    She tried evasion by telling him what he already knew. "A Novy Russky, a new Russian. One of the new breed of Russian capitalists."
    "And how does a capitalist get started in Russia? It takes money to start a business. Where did initial investment capital come from?"
    "Back in the late eighties, early nineties, through tiny companies sponsored by the State that were allowed to operate as privately owned businesses. Anything from bakeries to construction companies to small lending operations. And there was always a huge underground economy."
    'The black market."
    She could see the wheels turning in Hank's head as he made connections. Too bad they were the wrong ones.
    "So Petrov was a black marketeer?"
    She ran a finger down her beer bottle, tracing a line in the dew on the glass. "Not exactly."
    "You're not going to tell me he got his start baking cookies?'
    She smiled wryly. "Oh, no. Miki Petrov never wanted to work that hard. Not when he could punch his way in."
    He paused, working the clue. "Punch? like in smack, hit, beat up?"
    She sighed. No way to avoid it now. "Like in threat, interrogation, torture, and exile." She braced herself for his reaction. "He's ex-KGB."
    She wasn't disappointed. His eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned back in his chair and whistled. But before he could react further, their food came.
    The burgers were thick and juicy, grilled on chunks of French bread, slathered with mayonnaise and ketchup. Succulent slices of ripe tomato and leaves of crisp green ro-maine peeked out from beneath the bread. The smell was outrageous meat, charcoal, and spice and surprisingly, her mouth watered. AH of a sudden she was starved. She bit in, finding it as delicious as it looked.
    Hank grinned, wiping sauce and juice from the corner of his mouth. "Worth the drive and the company?"
    "I hate to admit it, but yes."
    They chewed for a while in silence, then Hank