Chapter 24
Stash
“Looks like you had a round with Tyson,” Roman said as soon as I stepped outside into the light. He’d seen me after a fight, my face almost always bloody. But not usually with my own blood.
“Except he’s dead.” Before leaving the house, I’d grabbed additional magazines of ammunition as well as a few tools so I could gain access to the two apartments. In addition, I’d brought with me a fingerprinting kit. The asshole who’d attempted to send me to my maker hadn’t worn gloves.
Most crime syndicates didn’t waste time trying to hide their members’ identities. Unless their sole job was a hired hitman. The attack on Saige had amateur written all over it.
Why bother trying to make the other girl’s death appear as a suicide? Tawny’s name still didn’t ring a bell, but the first call I’d made when stepping outside had been to Dimitri, waking him from a dead sleep.
He remembered the girl’s name. That was a step in the right direction.
I pressed the tip of my tongue against the split that continued to ooze blood. A small price to pay for taking out my rage. “The other asshole doesn’t look much better.” Pavel approached, shaking his head. “We found the vehicle. And a car that smashed a mailbox. Both on the street behind us.”
“Good,” I told them while heading toward the body with my men following.
At least six had already shown up, the need for them to protect my premises only the second since I’d moved to New York.
As I’d done before, I crouched down by the body, my soldiers doing the same.
“He was trained, including in martial arts.”
“Maybe one of the fighters.” Pavel suggested.
“I’ve already thought of that. I’ll need to get a list from our Irish friend.” He wasn’t wearing the ballcap. Maybe he’d left it in the SUV. I unzipped his jacket, searching for anything that could identify him.
I had no intention of stripping off his clothes.
“I don’t recognize him,” Roman muttered.
When I stood, the other two did as well. “I didn’t think we would.” I pulled out my phone, taking a couple of photographs. “But I might know someone who does.”
“He could be any nationality,” Pavel added.
Which meant nothing. “I have a guest, a young woman who was at the Strike Zone the other night. Pavel. You will stay with her inside my home until I return. Roman, coordinate with the other soldiers. They’ll be keeping watch on the exterior.
Ms. Mitchell will be my guest for some time.
I want her fully protected, including driving her to and from work when necessary. ”
“Where does she work, boss?” Pavel asked.
I didn’t like to expose my private life, but I had no choice. “With me. She’s my financial analyst.”
The two men looked at each other. They’d yet to see me with a woman. Roman had been supplied by Dimitri, Pavel coming with me from Moscow. As far as both men were concerned, I was nothing more than a damn priest given my lack of interest in women.
“Yes, sir,” Roman answered for both. ‘What about our friend here?”
“Have our friend and his ride deposited into the Hudson for a nice long voyage out to sea.”
I could tell both men were surprised. Why? Because I wore Clark Kent glasses? The idea amused the hell out of me. “Pavel. The car in the wreck. Have it towed to our favorite mechanic. I want it in top shape when it’s returned.”
“I’ll handle it, boss.” Pavel grinned because he thought he knew me. On day one of stepping foot inside my father’s house, he’d been brought in as my personal bodyguard. He’d seen me through every stage of coming to terms with accepting my father’s role in my life.
From rage to despondency, throwing irrational tantrums and spending way too much time in the arms of a woman. Then all that had stopped cold turkey. And they thought my brother Mikhail had gone nuts. I was certain the jury was still out about me.
Mikhail. I’d thought of him one too many times in the last few weeks. I’d ignored the ugly thoughts, but they were continually creeping into every moment. Maybe karma was trying to tell me something. To tell the entire Chertov family something important.
I shook off the thoughts for now.
“Roman. You’re coming with me. You know the streets and the cops in case we have an issue.”
“Why would we have an issue?”
“Because we’re going to visit the dead.”
* * *
“It’s just that… and my dad thinks… He won’t… I don’t know what to do. Marrying… And I won’t live.”
Checking the SUV had resulted in almost nothing of use except for the hat. It was possible there was DNA that could prove useful. Both Roman and I checked every inch. The fingerprint kit had also been used. As anticipated, the assailant hadn’t bothered to try to hide his identity.
The prints would be sent off to our criminal experts, as I liked to call them. We had our own department of hackers and computer experts, several with a background in law enforcement. Their skills had come in very handy in the last few months.
“He’s decided. I have no choice. I’m… nothing but property…
meant to sell to the highest bidder.” The audio recording was terrible, but if the ambient noise was taken out, maybe a few additional words could be provided.
Saige’s phone would go to our experts as well. “…to show you. It’s… and my father…”
“Sounds like an arranged marriage to me,” Roman said. “We still have those in this country. Even with rich, spoiled assholes.”
Chuckling, I eased from the passenger seat, my weapon easily accessible. It was now after three-thirty in the morning, almost no lights on in the surrounding buildings. But I could see one on inside Saige’s apartment. “We have those in Russia as well. In my opinion, they’re ineffective.”
“You’d be surprised how often they’re used in this town. Shocking.”
“Up the back. Let’s be quick about this.” I had taken the time to walk Saige into her apartment and left out the back door, so I was familiar with the building. Roman followed me around the building and even before I closed in on the back entrance, I could easily tell someone had broken in.
He noticed about the same time.
“Keep a watch down here. I’ll check the apartment.” I took the stairs two at a time, ripping out my weapon as soon as I reached her floor. It didn’t take me long to see someone had been searching for information. Or they’d simply wanted to leave a message.
The door was ajar. With a swing using one finger, I moved inside. The place was trashed, every piece of furniture turned over, every pillow and soft surface slashed with a knife.
A stark meow caught my attention, her cat running toward me and instantly rubbing her face against my leg.
“I’m glad you didn’t escape.” Great. Now I was talking to a cat. I scanned the area, trying to ascertain if the perpetrator had been looking for anything in particular.
Even Saige’s laptop had been knocked to the floor. As soon as I picked it up, the screen popped on, the hard drive still humming.
There were signs Saige had been working on the report I’d asked for, including notes now strewn all over the couch and the floor. I grabbed a handful, realizing she’d used some of the information she’d taken, including a printed copy of the blackmail list.
“Fuck,” I gritted out, squeezing what I had into a crushed ball. There was no way of knowing whether some pages were missing. All the asshole had needed to do was take screenshots from his phone.
Damn it. I should have known she’d had time to print a copy. Whoever he was working for, if not one of the companies located on the documentation, would have a task list that if implemented, gain them access to a huge portion of the Fortune 100 companies in New York.
Just like she’d hoped the Chertov Corporation would consider. Not that I hadn’t thought of doing so, but Kazimir hadn’t wanted to take over the New York financial industry by force.
I moved quickly throughout her apartment, realizing by the erratic behavior that the perpetrator had been angry. It also indicated there was a second person working with the one I’d eliminated.
After grabbing a suitcase from her closet, I haphazardly pulled out clothes I thought she’d need, moving into the bathroom and tossing in toiletries. If I’d forgotten anything, I’d purchase the items for her.
She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
If ever.
I grabbed some things for the cat, finding a soft-sided carrier. At least Beatrice didn’t argue with me, accepting her ride without incident.
With the laptop in my hand, I closed the door, every muscle remaining tense.
Once downstairs, I motioned to the vehicle.
“Did you find anything?” Roman asked, narrowing his eyes and chuckling when he noticed what I was carrying.
“A fucking mess. Have someone watch the place for a day or so, but I doubt the person responsible will be back.”
“And the cat?”
“She’s coming with us.”
He made a couple of phone calls while I toyed with trying to figure out her passcode. After several failed attempts, I was about to let it go when I tried something that seemed as if it would fit her earlier feelings for me.
Assholeforaboss.
Bingo.
All I could do was laugh.
She was an extraordinary woman, truly someone very special.
A Facebook page popped up, a girl’s face smiling for a selfie.
Tawny. Was it possible she’d left just before the second person had come into her apartment? Possible. Depending on how long it was before her computer went to sleep, he could have easily realized how close she was with Tawny.
Another reason to eliminate collateral damage.
With the draft report on the screen, I had all of four minutes to look it over before Roman pulled the SUV to the curb.
However, anyone with any financial sense could see her ideas were damn good ones.
She’d been thorough in her ideas, concrete in the numbers and had articulated the process, even predicting a financial gain that didn’t seem too farfetched.
“The police are just leaving.” Roman nodded toward the windshield.