Chapter 47
ROMAN
Kyle stands in front of my crime board. He’s zeroing in at a satellite image.
Andrei’s name flashes on my phone. My gut instantly tells me something is wrong.
“What is it?”
“She took him. Amalie took Sasha.”
The words hit me like a gut punch. The room goes cold. My hand clenches into a hard fist. “What do you mean, she took him?” I try to tamper the rage boiling inside me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kyle approaching.
“The museum,” he says. “She said she wanted to talk to Sasha in private. I had a bad feeling, shouldn’t have let her. But I did, giving her fifteen minutes. She was gone in less than five.”
My hand tightens around the phone. Kyle needs to hear this. I set the phone down on the desk and hit speaker.
“I ran out and saw Max Russo driving off. They were in the back seat. I tried to chase them, but by the time I got to my car, they were long gone. Roman, I’m sorry. I failed you.” There’s unmistakable pain in his voice.
“Max?” Kyle asks. “What the hell?”
“Andrei,” I say, my voice low and certain. “You did not fail me. You were deceived.”
A pause. “I’m working with the security team here, tracking cameras. I’ll make this right.”
“Do it,” I say.
“Understood.”
I’m furious, but Andrei has taken a bullet for my child. A touch of grace is warranted.
I press the end call button on my phone. Silence falls over the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kyle shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Roman,” he says slowly. “I never told Max to contact her. In fact, I specifically told him to stay away from her.”
I turn and face him.
“Whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it without the approval of the CPD.”
“You said he was helping you, did you not?”
He shakes his head. “No. I said he wanted to help. Trust me, he’s been pestering me nonstop to get his hands on this case.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him to stay in his goddamn lane. He’s not looped in. And he sure as hell doesn’t have the authority to move a civilian, especially not a child.”
Something inside my chest feels like it’s on the verge of tearing loose.
“Max lied to her,” I say.
Kyle’s jaw tightens. “Yeah. He did.”
Anger crosses his features. “I’m calling this in. If Max took my pregnant sister and your son, there will be hell to pay.”
“You are not calling this in,” I tell him. “Not yet.”
“And why the hell not?”
“Because the police move too slowly. And if I employ my forces, the presence of police will simply complicate matters.”
Kyle’s mouth forms into a hard line. I can practically see him doing the moral calculus of following protocol versus working with a criminal like me.
“I will find them” I say. “And I will bring them home alive. Unharmed. After that, you’re more than welcome to arrest whoever is still alive. Including me.”
He studies me for a long moment. Then, reluctantly, he nods. “Okay. But you’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m not going to help you.”
I grin. That I’ll accept.
I turn my attention to the crime board, my eyes moving along the red string connecting the pictures, Post It notes, and various documentation.
Max is a fool, a man who thinks he can worm his way back into Amalie’s heart. I’m becoming more and more convinced he’s involved in what’s been happening. There’s still not a goddamn doubt in my mind that Garin’s the one pulling the strings. So how does Max Russo fit in?
I snatch my jacket from the back of my chair and prepare to leave.
Kyle nods.
We move.
I stand against the far wall of the Intelligence Unit bullpen, arms crossed, silent. I let Kyle work while I listen. He’s going over the information that could save my family’s life.
Kyle’s eyes burn with focus. Two analysts sit at adjacent desks, screens glowing. They’re pulling up whatever information they can find on Max.
Kyle shakes his head. “Max doesn’t have debt. No gambling or drug problem. No sick relatives. Nothing that explains this behavior.” He runs his hand through his hair. “How long has he been planning this? What’s he hoping to gain from it?”
It’s a damn good question.
The analyst looking into his financials works feverishly, typing and clicking. Then he gasps and leans closer to his screen. “Uh, Detective?” he says, fingers pausing over the keyboard. “I’ve got something.”
Kyle and I step over to him. Both analysts tense as I approach.
“What is it?” Kyle asks.
“Look. There’s a secondary account tied to Russo,” he says. “Not declared. Not linked to his primary banking profile. It’s buried under a regional credit union shell, but the pattern’s too clean to be accidental.”
He pulls up a graph for the account. I don’t need the analyst to explain what I’m looking at. Monthly deposits. Same amount. Like clockwork.
“And they’re always under reporting thresholds. Consistent for…” he scrolls. “Jesus. Six years.”
“Six years?” Kyle asks. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That means he’s been on the take since he graduated from the academy!”
Six years. That’s longer than Elena’s been dead.
“If he’s being paid, it’s not for any specific service or a bribe, nothing along those lines.”
“The piece of shit is on retainer,” Kyle mumbles.
“Who funds it?” I ask.
The analyst hesitates, glancing over to Kyle, who nods. Then the analyst turns the screen toward me. I lean in. It’s a familiar web of shells. A familiar financial services firm. And a familiar name buried three layers deep.
Nikolai Garin.
Kyle curses under his breath. “Christ. He didn’t just flip Max; he’s been grooming him since the jump. I kept telling myself that Max was just overeager, ambitious. But this is proof that everything he’s done in this department was in service of a goddamn criminal.”
My mind is still on the timeline. “Elena.”
Kyle nods, as if he’s on the same wavelength. “Harford, pull it up.”
The other analyst clicks and taps, Elena’s police report popping up on the screen.
“We re-ran the Elena Barinova homicide with fresh eyes,” he says. “Looked into something that never sat right with me before, a stone I never had time to turn over.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“So, the responding officer logged the scene. Officer Will Simms. He logged the evidence and took a witness statement. All by the book. But all of it vanished.”
I frown as I listen.
“At first, I thought it was nothing,” he goes on. “Just a screw-up in records. Then I looked again, saw that the records were intentionally deleted. There was no signature for who deleted them, but there was a date. And you’ll never guess who was working in the records division when it happened.”
“Max.”
“Yep. It’s all circumstantial, but the picture’s pretty goddamn clear if you ask me.”
“Elena’s murder wasn’t just a robbery gone bad,” I say, thinking out loud. “It was Garin. And the reason he was able to get away with it was because he had someone working for him on the inside.”
“It’s perfect if you’re a piece of shit like Garin. You find a new recruit, offer him cash and protection, and bam, you’ve got a guy on the inside who can run cover for you when you need it.”
I scrub my hand down my face, the weight of it all bearing down. “And now he’s escalated. Max has Sasha and Amalie.”
Kyle frowns. “He’s blowing his cover. But he wouldn’t be doing it unless Garin was going to take good care of him afterward.”
“And unless whatever Garin is planning is his final move.” I clench my jaw until it hurts.
Amalie. My son. My unborn child.
Garin has them all.
“Max is delivering them,” Kyle says. “And you don’t need me to tell you that whatever he’s got in mind, it’s bad. Even if he doesn’t plan on hurting them, he might be in the process of shipping them out of the city.”
“Then we have to move—now.”
“Right.”
A beat of silence passes. As much as I hate to admit it, we’re at a standstill. Then one of the analysts perks up.
“Got something. It’s a hit on Max’s phone. It’d been powered down, but he turned it on briefly, then off again. Ping was near the old river warehouses, east end.”
“That is Garin’s territory,” I say.
Kyle nods grimly. “I’ll get a task force ready.”
“No.”
He looks at me sharply. “Roman—”
“You will move officially. By the book. Do what you need to have Garin and his men in cuffs.”
“And you?” Kyle asks.
“I will move faster.”
He wants to argue. But there’s a greater loyalty for him at play here, and he’s smart enough to know which of us can get to Amalie faster.
“Just bring them back alive. We’ll provide backup as soon as we can.”
“I will.”