Chapter 29
29
Roman
“ R eady?”
The question that James and Tori had been waiting for. We’ve been driving around for long enough. Our tail is still very much attached to us, so I pull up outside Charlie’s gas station. It’s cold and grey, the falling drizzle forcing me to keep the wipers on at a steady interval.
“Ready,” James replies. He glances in the side mirror. “Here comes Ollie. He’s going around the back. Your turn, Roman.”
I give Tori a cocky grin. “You look absolutely terrible in that wig.”
“And that ball cap makes you look like an overgrown tween,” she shoots back with a smirk.
“Best of luck to you two. Keep the assholes busy,” I chuckle dryly.
“I’m in the back. I’m ready,” Oliver’s voice comes through my earpiece.
James frowns as he looks in the rearview mirror. “They’re there waiting,” he mutters. “I can’t confirm if Igor is with them, though. The windows are heavily tinted.”
“They took the bait; they think we’ve got Elise,” I try to reassure him. “We’ll get them.”
“Good luck,” he says.
I step out of the car and head into the gas mart. I give Charlie a slight wave, then move toward the service door at the back. Oliver comes through it, dressed exactly like me.
“All good?” he asks.
“Yeah, just grab some snacks or whatever and take my place,” I say to him.
“Keep the comms line open while you’re with the sheriff. We want to hear everything,” he replies, briefly glancing out at our car. “How’s Tori holding up?”
“That woman could survive an apocalypse if push came to shove. Not a day goes by that I’m not grateful we served with her and that she continues to work with us.”
“Hard-core lady, that one,” Oliver quips with a cool smirk as we exchange car keys. “Alright. Stay strong, Roman.”
“You, too.”
I’m out the back door and behind the wheel of Oliver’s dark green Jeep within seconds. I give him a couple of minutes, watching from the back corner of the gas mart. I’ve got a clear view of the road, and I watch as Oliver drives off, instantly followed by Igor’s men. Once I see that they’re all still very much attached to him, gobbling on that Tori bait like there’s no tomorrow, I drive back into town.
The parking lot of the sheriff’s station is half-empty. I drive around the building a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t followed, then pull up behind the sheriff’s service car. I look around before stepping out of the Jeep and making my way inside, an uneasy feeling nagging at me. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but something isn’t right. An old instinct resurrected.
“Sheriff Van Pelt,” I say as I walk across the bullpen. “We need to talk.”
The door to his office is open but he’s not alone.
Three men are with him, two of whom I immediately recognize. My hand automatically goes for the gun in my waist holster.
“No need for that,” Van Pelt says, quick to stand up from behind his massive desk.
The office feels too small and crowded all of a sudden. “What are you doing here?” I ask the men, my tone clipped.
“We’re not here to cause any trouble,” the elderly man says. “I take it from your reaction that you know who I am?”
Lev Konstantinov, tall and grey-haired, with pale blue eyes and ivory skin and faint scars dashing across the left side of his Balkan features, stands near the desk, dressed in an elegant dark grey suit. Diamond-studded cufflinks twinkle under the fluorescent lights.
“I know who you are, I just don’t understand what you’re doing here,” I coldly reply, then look at the men he’s with. “Andrei Konstantinov. You look just like your dad. It’s not hard to pick up on the familial connection.”
“And you look nothing like your service photo,” Andrei replies with a wry smile.
Unlike his father, Andrei is partial to casual slacks and a polo shirt, his platinum hair and sharp jaw reminding me more of his older brother, Igor, than their father. I’m guessing they got the jawline from their mother—Kara Konstantinova’s face sports a similar contour.
“I’ve gotten older,” I say. “No less deadly, though. I assume you’ve read my record. You Bratva boys like to do your homework I’m told.”
“We do need to know whom we’re dealing with,” Andrei replies.
Lev gives him a hard look. “Behave. We’re not here to start a fight.”
“Michael.” I address the third man, the youngest of the group. “Elise’s brother. What the hell are you doing here with these two?”
“They’re my family,” Michael snaps. “Have some respect.”
Lev chuckles dryly. “Easy, Mikey. Remember the objective.”
Sheriff Van Pelt clears his throat. “The Konstantinov gentlemen are here to make sure Elise is okay,” he explains. “It seems there have been some incidents in town, events that you and your partners are familiar with.”
“It’s why I’m here, Sheriff. Why we need to talk,” I say. “Someone’s out to hurt her.”
“Who?” he asks.
I nod at the Konstantinov men. “Igor Konstantinov.”
“Now, hold on right there,” Lev says.
“We just want Elise back safely,” Andrei says, trying to intervene.
Lev shakes his head. “I would never hurt her. I raised her as though she were my own!”
“We know she’s here,” Michael adds, his brow furrowed. Damn, he looks a lot like his sister. “Whatever it is she’s dealing with, we can talk about it; we can help.”
“Tell me something, Mike,” I say, smirking. “You’ve spoken to her over the phone, right?”
He gives Lev and Andrei a quick, guilty glance before answering. “Yeah.”
“And each time you spoke to her, what did she tell you?”
“That it’s safer for me if I didn’t know anything.”
“Yet here you are with the very people she’s been hiding from.”
Van Pelt interjects again. “Roman, dammit, you need to fill me in on what’s been going on here because I’m a little blindsided and therefore unable to help.”
I turn to the sheriff. “Elise came to Rustic in search of a safe place to hide from her husband, Igor Konstantinov.”
“Igor loves Elise,” Lev says.
“Is that what he told you? Who ordered the hit on her parents?” I ask the old man. “Was it you? Or did Igor do all of that on his own and you just covered for him because he’s your son?”
Silence falls over an already tense room. Lev glares at me. There’s a spark of doubt festering in the cold pools of his eyes along with confirmation of something he already knew or perhaps only suspected. If he wanted Elise dead, he never would’ve set foot in this office and Kara would’ve never requested our protection. There’s a different agenda at work here, and it’s not theirs.
“What is Kara doing in town?” I ask.
Andrei lowers his gaze. “Fucking hell,” he mutters. “This is worse than we thought.”
“What do you know about Elise’s parents?” Lev asks me, his voice low, his breathing growing heavier.
“I know her father worked for your organization and that he and his wife were shot to death, apparent collateral damage during a turf war between your men and another gang,” I say. “I also know that Elise found and took evidence implicating Igor directly in their deaths. Hence her decision to run.” I pause and look at Michael. “It’s why she wanted you in the dark about all this. She couldn’t protect you if you knew the truth.”
“I don’t believe it!” Michael shoots back. “Igor loves us. He’s been like a big brother to me over the years. He loves Elise!”
“He wants her dead. She has proof against him.” I nod toward Lev. “She couldn’t trust you with it. Why’s that?”
Lev exhales sharply and collapses into one of the guest chairs, cursing in Russian. Andrei doesn’t move, but he doesn’t take his eyes off him, either. Michael is already shaken to the core. I can tell he’s conflicted, but his love and confidence in his sister trump everything, even the Konstantinovs.
“Did Mrs. Konstantinov ever go to the police about any this?” Van Pelt asks.
“It’s Morris. She doesn’t use her married name,” I tell him. “She tried to speak to Chicago PD on multiple occasions about her parent’s murder, but they seemed to be in one Konstantinov pocket or another. She got bounced back to Igor every time, who grew more and more controlling, more paranoid. Violent.”
“Violent?” Lev gasps, giving me a troubled look. “Fucking hell, Kara was right to be concerned.”
“It’s why we’re here, trying to go through the legal channels,” Andrei admits, a defeated look on his face. “Kara came here first. She knew something was up with Igor, but he’d never tell us anything, so she hacked his phone, his emails, until she got a line on Elise in Rustic.”
“What did Igor tell you?” I ask.
Lev runs a hand through his silver hair, closing his eyes for a moment. “He’s been looking for Elise since she left. I kept telling him to leave her alone. If she wanted to leave our family, then so be it. Far be it from me to keep her against her will. I do love her as much as I love any of my children. I only wanted what was best for her.”
“Is that why you pushed her into a marriage with Igor?”
“I thought that’s what she wanted.”
I can’t help but scoff. “A young girl, suddenly finding herself orphaned and being raised by a man whom she worships. Terrified she’ll be tossed out into the street along with her brother if she doesn’t meet the old man’s wishes. Elise couldn’t bring herself to say no because, let’s face it, Mr. Konstantinov, you’re the head of the fucking Russian mob. What did you think she’d say?”
“He’s got a point,” Andrei says and chuckles dryly.
Lev gives him a hard look. “Et tu, Brute?”
“Come on, Papa. Even you have to admit that Igor and Elise never really clicked. You weren’t in that room with them the day of the wedding. The way Elise was crying, those weren’t tears of joy.”
“But Elise was a good girl, through and through,” I tell them. “She stayed put. Made sure Michael got into a premium school. She fulfilled her duties as a wife, as a Konstantinov daughter. But then she learned the truth about Igor—”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Lev cuts in. “It never made sense.”
“She tried to tell you, didn’t she?”
“In so many words, yes. But I rejected the premise outright,” Lev says and lowers his gaze.
Andrei, however, does not seem as shocked nor as distraught as his father. “Kara had suspicions of her own,” he tells me. “Elise was terrified, and she didn’t know who to trust anymore. I mean, we’re family, right? Surely, we all knew what Igor had done.”
“But you didn’t,” Michael says, tears pricking his eyes. “Please, tell me you didn’t.”
“No, we did not,” Lev replies. “Had we known, I would’ve—”
“You would’ve what? Handed your own son over to the authorities?” I scoff, crossing my arms. “You would’ve protected him; that’s what you would’ve done. Blood is always thicker than water, especially where you people are concerned.”
“You people?” Lev raises an eyebrow.
The sheriff shakes his head slowly. “What a fucking clusterfuck. I think it’s time to bring the feds into this.”
But as soon as he picks up the phone on his desk, I put my hand over his to stop him. He gives me an understandably confused look.
“I’ve got a better idea,” I tell him. “But first, I need to know where these three gentlemen stand.”
I don’t know how Oliver and James will react when they hear about my plan, but if I have a shot at ending this whole thing without unnecessary bloodshed and chaos, I might as well give it a try. The Bratva may be ruthless, but they’re not stupid.
They can’t deny Igor has gone off the rails. They’d much rather work on damage control before making things worse.
“I never thought this day would come,” Lev mutters after we trade information about his family, Elise, and Igor’s movements over the years. “Today I found out that I was blindsided by my own son.”
“He shot up the restaurant where Kara was at. He must’ve known she was in there,” Andrei says, seething.
“They were gunning for us,” I remind him.
“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he snaps. “Igor crossed a line, one hell of a line.”
Michael, seated in the other guest chair, is pale as a sheet of paper. Beads of sweat trickle down his face as he looks up at me. “Where is Elise now?”
“On her way to a safe house along with the twins and their nanny,” I reply. “We’ve got our best security detail watching them. What do you know about Kara’s whereabouts? We still can’t find her after the shootout. She ditched our guys.”
“She’s still in Rustic,” Andrei sighs. “I tried to get her to talk to me, but she said she doesn’t want to spook Elise any more than she already has.”
Lev gives him a startled look. “I can’t believe you and Kara kept this from me.”
“What, that we suspected your precious firstborn of killing Elise’s parents? Igor is the fucking apple of your eye.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“You named him your sole heir,” Andrei retorts. “You relegated Kara and me to mere administrative duties.”
I shake my head slowly. “Pardon me for not giving a single shit about your family politics here, gentlemen, but I do need to know where you all stand as of this moment because my sole purpose is to get Elise away from Igor forever. I’d rather do it with your blessing and without having to kill the bastard, which, right now, is my only option.”
“You will do no such thing,” Lev barks.
“You will not take the law into your own hands in my town,” Sheriff Van Pelt adds.
“We’ll work something out,” Andrei offers. “By the time we’re done with Igor, he’ll sign the divorce papers, and he’ll leave her alone—for good. That, I can promise you.”
“How can you promise that?” Michael asks him. “Igor is still number one.”
“ I’m the number one, boy,” Lev cuts in. “And if I have to disinherit that foolish man to restore order within my family and my organization, then so be it.”
“I still think we need to get the feds involved,” the sheriff says.
“Do you trust me? Do you trust us?” I ask him. “Me, James, and Oliver.”
“Of course,” he replies. “You’re good men. Protectors of this town. Hard, honest workers. Veterans. Yes, I trust you. I just don’t know how to best handle a situation that I never saw coming in the first place.”
“We’ve got this,” I tell him. “Get your deputies ready. Get the state troopers on the line and apprise them of the situation. Tell them we’ve got a Russian mob operative on the loose around Rustic, and that your people are already tracking him. They just need to be ready to come in and slap some cuffs on when you call.”
“I can do that,” he says. “What about you? What are you going to do?”
Just then, a ping comes through my earpiece. “Hold on,” I reply. “Yeah, talk to me.” My blood runs cold as James tells me what happened when Kirby tried to get our girls to the safe house. “Alright. Send me everything you’ve got. I’ll meet you as soon as you give me a location.”
Once I hang up, it becomes obvious that the entire room is aware of my mood shift.
“What’s going on?” Lev asks.
I exhale sharply. “Elise ditched our security detail in town at a stoplight. We don’t have a current location on her.”
“Why would she do that?” Michael asks, “especially after Igor showed up at your doorstep?”
“I can’t get a hold of Kara either,” Andrei says, checking his phone. “She still hasn’t answered my last few messages.”
“And Igor?” I ask. He shakes his head. “Figures. We’re pretty certain he’s still tailing our bait vehicle, but if Elise is out there unprotected, it’s only a matter of time before Igor hears about it and circles back to her.”
Lev gets up from his seat. He frowns, creating a deep crease between his eyes. “How can we help?” he asks, and I give him a curious look. “If the sheriff here is willing to trust you, if Elise trusted you enough to put herself in your care, I might as well take a leap of faith and work with you, rather than against you. I want Igor to live and pay for what he’s done.”
Igor stole from his own father, then killed his friend and accountant to cover his tracks. For years now, Igor has been playing Lev for a fool. Marrying Elise must’ve been the cherry on top for that sociopathic bastard, except it’s all crumbling now unless he gets to Elise first.
“We know Elise is keeping the evidence against Igor somewhere safe,” I tell Lev, Andrei, and Michael. “Once I get confirmation of where it is, that’s where we’ll go first.”
“Do you want me to put a BOLO out on Elise?” the sheriff asks.
“Can you send a few of your deputies out to look for her as discreetly as possible?” I ask. “Whatever she’s thinking of doing, we don’t want to spook her.”