no body no crime

stella nera

I didn't mean for it all to happen. Honest. I forgot my book at that damn bar, and I needed it to write my essay for my Literature Composition class. Professor Reynolds would be furious if I lost her book. So, for no other reason than a twenty year old copy of Pride and Prejudice, I found myself on the doorstep of Stella Nera.

I'd only been twenty one for a few months, but my friends introduced me to the bar. During the afternoon, it had a cafe vibe, and at night it hosted one hell of a party. I knew they closed at midnight. Ten minutes ago I hopped in my black Audi (a gift from my stupid rich great uncle) and sped over there before they closed.

I checked my watch. 11:47. I had time. The street formed a wind-tunnel, the breeze whipping my golden brown hair into my face. I ran a hand through the strands, trying to hold it back as I took the few steps to the door. But I froze when I reached for the handle.

Closed for private event.

Of course it was. I sighed, checking my watch again. I knew I shouldn't intrude, but I needed that book. I knew exactly where I left it-the table in the far corner-and would be in and out, sixty seconds tops.

Besides, I was more scared of Professor Reynolds than the possible awkward stares from the people inside.

Oh, how wrong I was.

A little brass bell chimed as I entered the club. I took a few steps, attempting to keep my head down. A gruff voice stopped me.

"Not another step."

I froze. His voice drawled, almost a growl, an Italian accent lacing his words. I looked up and instantly regretted it. Not ten inches away, a large man in a black trench coat held a gun to my temple.

I swallowed. "I-I'm so sorry, I just need my book."

"What?"

"My-my book." With a shaking hand, I pointed to the corner table, a beat up paperback lying on the surface. "Please, I don't really need it, I can go if you want-"

The gun clicked as the safety turned off.

"Oh, relax, Tony. She's harmless."

Another Italian accent, but this time deep and smooth. My eyes flickered towards a man, lounging in a booth. Of average build, his hair black and shiny as raven's feathers, his smile sly and cocky. His features were sharp, but welcoming, his eyes dark, but cold. The worst part, though, was the silver gun he held in his hand, waving it nonchalantly.

Tony slowly lowered his gun and returned it to his pocket. A further assortment of men stood behind him, dressed in black suits and trench coats. I tried to keep the quiver out of my voice as I spoke.

"Can I get my book? Please?"

Tony glared at me. But the other man, with the cold, piercing eyes, offered a dazzling smile accompanied by a flourishing sweep of his hand. The one without the gun.

"Of course, my dear."

I crossed the silent room, all eyes burning into my back. I made a mental note to curse this damn book if I ever made it home. I picked it up and tucked it under my arm, turning to face the gang. Because that's what they were-a gang. I saw it in their dress, their chain of command, and of course, the weapons.

I looked at the floor again. "I'll... just be going, then." I cautiously crossed the room, my eyes on the door.

"Hold on a moment, dear."

Would you stop calling me that?

I turned around, meeting the eyes of the man in the booth. I gave a thin smile. "Yes, sir?"

"Come here."

The door was so close. If I had known better, I would have run right then. But instead, I followed directions and approached the man's table.

He gestured with his gun to the booth. "Have a seat." He said it like he was offering for us to grab lunch together. I slipped into the booth, my book clutched tight.

"My name is Dmitri." When I offered no comment, he continued. "And you are?"

I kept my eyes on the table. "Jo."

"Jo?"

I shrugged. "Short for Johanna, but no one calls me that."

"I see."

I risked a glance towards his face. Up close, he was scarier. A menacing glare lay behind his eyes, something cold and dangerous. A flash of light showed off his silver tooth. A heavy, gold ring sat on the pointer finger of his right hand. He stared through my forest green eyes, searching for something.

Dmitri laid the gun flat on the table before lacing his hands together. "Jo, I have a problem."

I stayed quiet. Not even a flinch would give away how fast my heart was beating.

"How, exactly," he went on, "am I supposed to allow a mysterious woman to walk into my private facility? And leave? You see Jo, I prefer to stay out of the spotlight."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"An endearing vow, no doubt. But I need something more. A show of good faith." His smile turned wicked.

"What... what can I do?"

He dug a hand into his coat, and I braced myself for a gun. But instead he removed a cellphone. A nice one, too. iPhone 12.

"There is an associate of ours that has gone missing. A spy, if you will. One of our best. I would very much like her back," he said.

With a few swipes of his fingers, he slid the phone across the table toward me. The screen displayed an image of a woman, a zoomed in frame of security footage. Nevertheless, she was beautiful. Her straight, smooth, ebony hair was pulled into a high ponytail, tucked beneath a black baseball cap. The clothing she wore was dark as well-black jeans, black boots, dark leather jacket. And her face... her jawline was prominent even in the blurry footage, her eyes dark and calculating. There was a smoothness to her features, with a fierceness hidden beneath.

I pulled my eyes away from the woman and looked to Dmitri. "How could I possibly help?"

He smiled his cold, sly smile. "I believe with the right motivation, anything is possible."

I didn't need him to elaborate. I understood his threat loud and clear.

He held out his hand and I slid the phone towards him. "Yours as well," he commanded.

Slowly, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and handed it to him. His fingers flew over the two screens, and a moment later he gave mine back.

"The picture and her last known location have been sent to you."

I gave a slow nod.

"You have forty eight hours, Jo Anderson."

I know I didn't tell him my last name, I thought. I clenched my teeth together and took a forced breath. "I will do what I can."

Dmitri rested a hand on his gun. "I hope so. For your sake."

When the room went silent once more, I slid out of the booth. I took a few steps, but turned back. "How will I know where to bring her?" I asked. As if, in that moment, I truly believed I would find this woman. This spy.

"Don't worry, dear. We'll find you." Dmitri ran a tongue over his silver tooth, and his right eye flashed a wink.

I nodded without a sound and headed for the door. No one tried to stop me, not even Tony. I stepped out into the night of New York City, the street still alive with partygoers. Neon signs lit up the road and headlights pierced the darkness, sounds of laughter and traffic flooding my ears. But I hardly took notice.

I walked in the direction of my Audi, my feet carrying me forward even as my brain shut down. In my car, I let out a strong curse word.

As least I got the book back.