Chapter 6
Six
M att stared at the screen of his laptop with bleary eyes. He’d been awake for more than twenty-four hours, and at least twenty of those hours had been pure hell.
“Burning the midnight oil, Crawford?”
Matt looked up to see Jenkins walking toward his desk. He was relatively new to the force, transferred in from Western Kentucky. He was also one of the prime suspects in leaking the information about Loralei’s whereabouts. “This mess with my sister is making me crazy…if I don’t get it figured out soon, I’m gonna lose it.”
Jenkins nodded as he refilled his coffee cup. “Heard about the boyfriend’s place getting shot up. That’s a real clusterfuck. Any leads?”
“Our drug dealer in custody has suddenly decided that there really is honor among thieves…he’s clammed up as tight as Fort Knox. I have a string of Russian first names and a couple of bars where they might be holed up, but no luck pinning them down anywhere, so far.”
Jenkins nodded again. “Too bad you can’t just beat it out of him.”
Matt chuckled in response. “Yeah. It’s not the Wild West anymore.”
“Your sister safe for now?” Jenkins asked.
The opportunity had literally fallen into his lap, which made Matt even more suspicious. “Yeah. She and Ciaran are laying low at my apartment for now…but that’s just between us.”
“Not a problem, man. I’ll keep it quiet. I’m heading out to get some sleep. You should too. You look like hell.”
“As soon as these reports are done…hell, I might crash here. Better than being a third wheel in my own damn house,” Matt joked.
Jenkins chuckled. “I hear that,” he agreed as he walked away.
When the man was out of sight, Matt closed his computer and grabbed his keys and jacket. Heading out the back door, he climbed behind the wheel of Kaitlyn’s little sports car. She was a pain in the ass, but she had amazing taste in automobiles. It was the flashiest undercover vehicle he’d ever been in, that was for damn sure.
The drive to his apartment didn’t take long. While Lexington traffic was a beast in the daytime, at night the city went dead quiet. Rather than let himself in, he settled down to watch and wait. Grant, on a recon basis only, was watching Loralei’s house, staked out in his mother’s Volvo. Alvarez, the other cop who had yet to be vetted, had been told that Loralei and Ciaran had returned to her house not long before his conversation with Jenkins.
Taking his cell from his pocket, Matt tapped the speed dial number for Grant. “Anything?” he asked immediately.
“A skunk,” Grant replied. “Two opossums. A couple of drunken frat boys and a homeless guy who pissed on someone’s shiny new Beemer.”
Matt grinned. “Please tell me it was the door handle. That shit makes my day.”
“It was,” Grant said, and there was a note of glee in his voice. “Call me crazy. I haven’t seen fuck-all here, Matt. Are you sure Alvarez is dirty?”
“No. But I’m not certain he isn’t, and I can’t take any chances with Loralei…she’s all I’ve got. Well, except for you and your wife, who I think might actually have warmed up to me.”
Grant chuckled. “Kaitlyn doesn’t do warm, Matt. Hate to break it to you. She tolerates you, but that’s pretty much her stance on all humans over the age of fifteen. But she hasn’t chewed your ass yet, so you might be on her good side. If she has one.”
Matt shook his head. Kaitlyn DuChamps-Ashworth was like a badger trapped in a supermodel’s body. Vicious and beautiful all at the same time, but she’d move heaven and earth for Loralei, so she was okay in his book.
“Fuck,” Grant said softly. “A car just pulled up in front of Loralei’s house. Dark tinted windows, late model Escalade, two guys getting out while the third keeps the engine running.”
“Stay down, don’t let them see you,” Matt said and started the car.
Grant sighed. “I think it’s too late for that. One of the guys just pointed this way and shouted something in Russian.”
“Get out. Put that fucking mom-mobile in gear and get the fuck out.”
Matt could hear the revving of the engine and the squealing of tires.
“They’re right on me, Matt,” Grant said. “I’m heading toward campus. I can lose them down some of those side streets maybe.”
Matt gripped the wheel tighter as he sped off toward Loralei’s house. “Find a fucking cop…even a damn campus rent-a-cop!”
He heard the sound of breaking glass, and then nothing. The call had been disconnected. Speed dialing dispatch, he identified himself and began barking commands.
In the upstairs bedroom of Loralei’s house, Dimitri closed the laptop. The idiot woman needed better security and stronger passwords. The framed photo of her ugly dog bearing his name had been a dead giveaway to the password of her computer. Now, he’d managed to track the location of her phone by reporting it “lost,” which had the added benefit of turning it off entirely. If she attempted to use it, it would simply give her an out of service message.
Ivanko had taken care of the cop’s friend, albeit temporarily. Still, it would give the cop something else to worry about while they tracked down his little sister. There was a slim chance the cop might figure out why they had taken the other man’s phone and warn the Irishman, but it was a risk they had to take.
“Let’s move,” Dimitri said, rising quickly to his feet. “We don’t have much time.”
“We could let it go,” Ivanko said. “This girl is bad news for us. Every time we get close to her it goes to shit. Just ask Sergei.”
“I’ve no time to talk to a fucking corpse. She can identify Sergei, even if he is dead, and in turn, he will be linked to us. She must be eliminated. When the cop is on bereavement leave, the case will be transferred to Jenkins, and we will all be safe,” Dimitri reminded him. “Or do you wish to question my leadership further?”
Ivanko backed down, thoroughly chastened. “No. I will follow whatever you command me to do.”
Dimitri nodded. “Find the bitch and kill her. Leave the Irishman to me.”
By the time Matt reached the scene, first responders were already there. Margaret’s Volvo was wrapped around a streetlight, and Grant was sitting on the sidewalk while EMTs taped a cut above his eye. In all, it could have been, and he’d honestly expected it to be much worse.
Taking a deep breath, Matt climbed out of his car and walked over to where Grant was getting first aid. He pointed to the nasty gash over his eyebrow. “How’d that happen?” Matt asked. The airbags in the car had deployed, so there shouldn’t have been any way of him busting his head open.
“Fucker hit me with the butt of his gun,” Grant said with a grimace.
“Kaitlyn will kill me for getting your pretty face messed up,” Matt said, unable to express his relief at seeing his best friend of nearly three decades reasonably unharmed. “Why didn’t you call me back?”
“They took my damn phone,” Grant said.
On his own phone, Matt pulled up the app to locate lost phones and plugged in the number. According to the map, the phone was only yards away from them. He called it and then followed the ringtone. It had been tossed carelessly into the bushes near the back door of Loralei’s home.
Matt stooped to pick up the phone. As he closed his hand over it, he realized why they’d taken it to begin with. It was impossible to track a phone without the number, and having accessed Grant’s, they had all the information they needed to be able to track Loralei. Fear exploded inside him.
“I’m taking one of the cruisers,” he said to one of the uniformed officers, tossing the phone to him. “Get him home safe!”
Matt climbed behind the wheel of the cruiser and hit the lights, even as he was speed-dialing Loralei’s number. He had a sick feeling in his gut. Shit was about to get real.