Chapter 16 Shadowed Interruptions
Shadowed Interruptions
Mikko
Waiting in his Audi, engine off and enveloped in shadow outside of Anika’s house, the minutes dragged on.
He was restless, the blood roaring in his ears while he passed the time.
At least these excursions helped him avoid work—specifically the mystery and roiling unrest whispering through the business at Ivan’s death.
Men had already questioned Mikko’s plans of action, stating he was too calm in the face of trouble, but he brushed off the words.
“Death is our only constant,” Alek would say, and seasoned men like them should realize this by now. Yet, they still blabbed and bred distrust among the darkened streets. Besides, Mikko was investigating; he had questions he felt could only be answered by a certain woman.
Now sitting outside her house, he realized what a nasty habit this was becoming, but it was a necessary evil if he wanted to stay one step ahead of her.
The sun had set and Mikko knew the dinner plans Anika had scheduled with a business partner were well underway.
He’d have all evening to do as he pleased and immerse himself into the thoughts swirling around in his head every time he pictured Anika.
It’d only been a little over a week and a half since they’d had their fateful meeting at Bubblegum, but so much had happened.
And the only common denominator was Anika.
Despite his own conflicting emotions, he swore to put his theories to rest by shedding light on whatever she was hiding. He’d modified his own work schedule to accommodate her routines. Wherever she went, he wasn’t far behind. A day didn’t go by where he didn’t see her, even if it was from afar.
Although tonight was different. Instead of trailing behind her, sitting at a table across the restaurant she was currently in, he stayed behind.
Following her around had proved to be an entertaining distraction, but time was a valuable thing.
Ivan’s death meant Mikko needed to turn up the heat.
And he was left with no other choice: go straight to the source by selectively breaking and entering.
A man of his was dead and he needed to chase down every lead.
Even if the excitement flooding his veins was a new emotion.
No, not new. Buried.
Being in her personal space felt like sin, something dirty a corporate man like him should be above, yet this was where he flourished.
With a deep breath—the aroma of leather prominent inside his car—he readjusted his balaclava and made sure his hood was firmly in place.
The only sliver of skin visible was around his eyes.
He quickly donned the pair of leather gloves sitting on the passenger seat.
Even if someone did see him, he was nothing but a darkened smudge, unremarkable and untraceable.
As Mikko was about to slip from his car, bright headlights approaching from behind made him pause.
With bated breath, he waited, but he expelled a sigh when the car continued on, its pace leisurely.
The unknown driver passed without a second thought to whoever could be lurking in the dark. Someone like him.
It seemed her quiet neighborhood would never know of the monster slinking in its depths tonight.
Without a second thought or moment to change his mind, he stepped into the cool evening air.
The tree’s leaves rustled above, whispering as the autumn wind breezed through them, their color shifting from lush verdant to soft orange.
He smiled to himself as the season’s shorter days offered a refuge for his stalking.
Sleuthing, his brain corrected annoyingly.
Closing his car door softly, his eyes swept the surrounding landscape once more, adequately acquainted with it. It’d become a familiar sight, his visits to this area frequent.
Silently, he made his way to the wrought iron fence separating her lawn from the sidewalk and her neighbors.
The flared finials of the pickets were weather-worn, but well maintained from what he could see.
Most of the flora was well-kept, albeit overwhelming since Anika seemed to believe having any open space was a sin.
The flowerbeds lining the fence were overflowing with native plants. A couple large trees sprawled overhead, blocking out the moonlight.
An avid gardener, good to know, he mentally noted. I wonder if that’s where she got the inspiration for her arm tattoos?
Pretending as though he belonged, Mikko walked right up to the gate in hopes of avoiding any suspicious, nosy neighbors. Although, eye witness accounts were hardly admissible. There had been many times fate had been in his favor in a court of law throughout his business years—
A loud screech rent the night air, chilling his blood.
The damn gate wasn’t as well-maintained as he’d assumed.
“Fuck,” he muttered, feet rooted to the spot. Of all the times he’d been here, why hadn’t he noticed this?
Because you’ve been preoccupied, his mind countered, the voice sounding suspiciously like Alek.
No time to ruminate on it now as his tall frame hovered at the gate, in a potentially conspicuous position. Closing the gate once more—its hinges refusing to be silenced—Mikko stepped back, confident he could scale the fence and avoid it altogether.
Four soft breaths and a couple furious heartbeats filled the silence.
And before he could think better of it, he vaulted himself over it. It was easy since the finials only came up to his mid-thigh. Still he held his breath; the last thing he needed was to become impaled by one and live through the embarrassment of Cristiano having to come pick him up.
Landing softly on the other side, Mikko took a couple seconds to calm his erratic breathing. While he was in excellent shape, the excitement pulsing through his body made it difficult to keep himself under control.
Get in, find the evidence you need, and get out.
This act was nothing more than business.
Business.
A word he’d used with Anika and she’d thrown it back in his face. The universe had a funny sense of humor, one Mikko didn’t find himself enjoying.
A concrete sidewalk cut through her front yard, its narrow path light against the darkened grass.
A decorative covered porch loomed ahead of him, swathed mostly in shadow despite the porch light shining next to her front door.
More flowerbeds overflowed with plants nearby, all of which were still green, but the incoming autumn chill would soon change everything.
Creeping closer, he took his phone out, snapping a couple pictures of the vegetation.
He’d look up what the species were later.
Maybe if I send a bouquet of flowers to her office containing similar plants, she’ll be rethinking our dance?
An image of her out there in the summer sun, tending to her plants, teased him. Dirt on her hands, knees in the soil, and sweat dripping down her neck as it followed a trail he wanted to suck and kiss.
Her head tipped back, cinnamon whiskey eyes peering up at him, her lips stretched around his—
A dog barking down the street snapped him out of his reverie, and he scrubbed at his covered face.
Fuck.
His mind was operating without his command, taking him into the deep, depraved recesses existing there. He was in so much trouble if he didn’t shape the fuck up. He allowed himself a few more deep breaths to slow his heart before he pushed onward.
Over the past couple days, he’d been toying with different ways to get into her house, carefully considering the advantages to each entrance. In the end, the problem had solved itself. A couple days ago, while Mikko had been watching her house for anything unusual, someone had shown up.
A blonde-haired woman around Anika’s age parked in front of her house, mere car lengths away from where he was, and walked through the open gate.
A detail Mikko now realized attributed to him not knowing about its squeaky nature.
Regardless, her familiarity with the house let him know she was someone Anika knew and trusted.
That meant Mikko could also trust her to show him what he needed.
Walking to the side door, the vines from surrounding plants reached for her as she bent down and peeled up a door mat. Straightening, Mikko had noticed she’d retrieved something shiny.
A key.
And anyone with that kind of information could let themselves in…
It’d been fate beckoning him closer, and now he stood at the same side door, black mat at the toes of his boots. Looking around, he confirmed no one was watching before crouching down to retrieve the key. It had been etched into his memory since that moment.
Now it glinted up at him in invitation.
Quickly, he shoved it into the lock and turned the mechanism.
How many times did I stand outside, contemplating how to do this?
Now, he could finally put those thoughts to rest.
Slipping inside, blackness welcomed him as the door softly closed behind him.
Briefly, he let his eyes adjust, his ears attuning to the sounds of her house—the way the wind made the branches of nearby trees brush up against it or the settling creaks that came with the old structure.
He heard the humming of equipment nearby, but he was more focused on listening for animal movements.
Mikko was almost positive Anika didn’t have pets, but if they were small, they might’ve slipped under his radar.
But no hisses or meows; no toenails clicking on the nearby floors or telltale barks to warn intruders.
Perfect.
Entering onto a landing, a set of steps led up to the right and another set led deeper into what he assumed to be her basement. While Bubblegum’s basement may hold secrets, Mikko was certain Anika’s was dark and dank. He was more interested in the rest of her house.
So up he went.