CHAPTER ELEVEN
Anastasia
Investigating my brother’s death isn’t all that simple, especially considering the fact that I have to keep it a secret from my father.
But this time, I am determined to look deeper into the matter, and who else would know exactly what happened back then than the detective who was assigned the case?
Of course, I can't exactly travel up to San Francisco to ask him. Instead, I employ a private investigator, someone who travels to San Francisco to meet with Detective Alan. PI Ray Hogan managed to track down Detective Alan, and he mentioned that he’d reach out to me when he’s back in LA.
From my memories of that fateful day, I remember a young man dragging me away from the wreck as I screamed and called for my brother, who was buried under the car.
I now know that Fyodor was that man, and even though he doesn't seem to recollect our first encounter, I know full well the role he played that day.
Now, PI Ray is back in Los Angeles, and he wants to meet.
According to him, someone here in LA knows a lot about what truly went down, and he mentions that he will share the information when we meet in person.
I paid him quite a large amount of money, and hopefully, it is enough to get me the truth.
“Is there anything else I should know about this individual?” I ask him as I pretend to browse through the aisle, and Ray shakes his head. Marina helped with finding Ray, who is a man with a proven record of digging into the truth.
Two years ago, I asked him to look into my brother’s death, and at first, he mentioned his reservations, claiming that he isn’t interested in getting involved with a teenager, but I had assured him that all I wanted was to get the truth about my brother’s death.
The only problem was that we needed to keep things a secret, as my father wouldn’t be pleased if he discovered what I was up to.
“Do you want me to set up a meeting with them?” Ray asks, and I deliberate for a couple seconds.
Meeting with this individual might be the only way I can get to the bottom of what truly happened since PI Ray is having problems getting anything.
He keeps running into interference, and he stresses to me that it’s almost as if everyone is going to extreme lengths to keep what happened a secret.
It’s chance that we even stumbled upon Fyodor’s name.
“Yes, please. Work on it and get back to me,” I instruct, putting the folder he gave me into my book.
Just as I leave the aisle, I am met by Oleg, my newly assigned bodyguard and driver. Both my father and Fyodor seem to think that I won’t be able to handle myself, and they have assigned Oleg to be in charge of my protection.
“Are you ready, ma’am?” Oleg asks.
“Yes, I just finished browsing through the books I need,” I answer, trying my best not to look back.
Surprisingly, Ray has vanished, which fills me with relief, as I am not sure what Oleg would think should he see me talking with Ray. So far, Ray has been quite a professional man, but there’s no telling if he would crack should he have the full force of the Bratva interrogating him.
I know Dylan, for one, is now realizing what it means to cross paths with the Russian mob. Marina told me how his family seems to be encountering a number of problems, and I know for a fact that my father definitely has something to do with it.
Now, I just have to wait a couple more days, and I will get to know what exactly happened to my brother.
* * *
“This looks like a setup, ma’am,” Oleg comments as we park in the parking lot.
That’s a possibility that crossed my mind, but I trusted Ray enough to know that there was no way he’d let me walk into a trap.
According to him, the man I was meeting with had witnessed the accident, and back then, he had tried to give a statement, but the police barely bothered themselves with it.
“No, I’m just meeting with a friend. He doesn’t want to be seen, and it’s important you don’t tell my husband about this,” I instruct Oleg.
It feels strange referring to Fyodor as my husband, but that’s what he really is. As much as I have my concerns about meeting this individual alone, he holds what might be an important account of what truly happened that day.
“We should move somewhere safer,” Oleg answers again.
It’s been roughly an hour now since the agreed meeting time, and I have no way of knowing whether the man has changed his mind or if there’s something else holding him up. I text Ray, who assures me that the man will be there, but I’m slowly starting to get worried.
I told Fyodor that I am meeting with a friend, and then going around the city to familiarize myself with my new home. I expected him to have some objections, but he’s strangely supportive.
“Oleg will be with you, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to let him know,” Fyodor told me.
“Let’s wait for a few more minutes before we—” I stop, noticing a car pull up.
The man walking toward us is wearing a trench coat—the same one Ray texted me about. I notice how he looks around, almost as if he is trying to determine if it is safe to approach.
“That’s my friend,” I tell Oleg, feeling my palms getting sweaty.
Finally, I’m going to get the truth.
Slowly, he makes his way toward us, and I notice that Oleg reaches for his gun. He’s quite subtle about it, almost as if he doesn’t want to alert me, and somehow, I’m grateful for his concern. Once the man gets close, he knocks on the door, and Oleg rolls down the window.
“Sorry, who are—” Oleg begins, right before the man brings up his gun.
The events that unfold happen all in the blink of an eye as the man tries to shoot Oleg, who in turn slams down the gas pedal and hits him with the car right before he closes the window and drives away.
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, but apart from the fright and loud bang, I am quite all right. “Yes, yes, I'm fine,” I answer as Oleg drives out of the parking lot.
“I need you to call the boss and tell him what happened. I’ll have to put you somewhere safe in case these men are coming after us.”
“Men?” I notice that my hands are starting to shake.
Somehow, I walked into a trap, and I wonder if Ray set this up.
Oleg groans, and I remember his instructions.
I open my phone and dial Fyodor’s number.
Two weeks ago, against my will, he inputted his number into my phone, telling me that should the need ever arise, I will be able to reach him with ease.
Thank god for that!
Fyodor picks up almost immediately, and I have never felt so relieved to hear his voice.
“I never thought you’d call me, Anastasia,” he says in an amused tone.
“We… we… we are in danger,” I stammer, barely able to string a coherent sentence together.
“We are currently driving toward Parkland Avenue, and we have a tail,” Oleg shouts as I bring the phone close to him. He switches to Russian, giving Fyodor the details, and then he mentions something about ditching me somewhere for my safety.
“Do that, and I’ll come pick her up right away,” Fyodor says as I hear him rush out the door.
I am not sure if we actually have anyone driving after us, but Oleg clearly got a better look than I did, and if he’s confident that we have people after us, then I want to believe him.
“I’m going to let you out of the car soon, and I need you to follow what I’m about to tell you to the letter,” Oleg tells me as he changes lanes swiftly, driving on the wrong side of the road.
He gives me clear and precise instructions right before he quickly turns down a side road and tells me to get out. Scampering as fast as I can, I get out of the car right before Oleg drives off.
Watching him drive away leaves me with a dreadful feeling, and I can’t help but feel like I’m alone. Walking down the alleyway, I follow the instructions he gave me and head to the place where I can safely wait for Fyodor to pick me up.
Oleg mentioned that I need to walk a block, turn left, walk another two blocks, turn right, and then walk into what looks like a café and tell them that I am Fyodor’s friend.
As I walk out my stress, I try to process exactly what happened. Someone obviously got the details of the meeting, and I wonder if they got it from Ray or the real informant.
Why does it feel like the more I try to look into my brother’s death, the more people there are who are determined to bury the truth? I take a deep breath, realizing that all that matters at the moment is getting to safety.
Taking the right turn, I arrive at a small street filled with restaurants and cafés, and I spot the very one Oleg told me about.
I cross the street without hesitation before making my way into the café, which is cozy.
To me, it looks like an ordinary café, and there are even a few patrons who seem to be going about their daily lives.
One of the staff members approaches me and asks if I have an appointment. I lean closer to her and tell her that I am Fyodor’s friend and that he asked me to wait for him.
The woman, who introduced herself as Daria, is somewhere around 5'4", with green eyes and ginger hair. She pretends to not understand what I mean by that, and I tell her that Oleg asked me to come here and tell them that.
“I think you need to see the manager,” she finally says.
She leads me into what seems like their VIP room, and she tells me to wait for a moment while she fetches the manager. “Is there anything you’d like me to get you?”
I assure her that I am fine before she takes her leave. The idea of sitting down crosses my mind, but I decide against it as I realize that I walked into this danger myself. This whole thing is something I brought upon myself.
The door suddenly opens, and standing right at the door is none other than Fyodor, who looks like he has seen a ghost.
“Thank god you are here.” I rush into his outstretched arms.
“Are you okay, Anastasia?” he queries as he places his hands on my shoulders.
“Yes, yes, I am fine.” My hands haven’t stopped shaking, and I realize how this whole incident has shaken me.
It’s like a complete replay of what happened ten years ago in San Francisco. Alexei and I were driving when men started shooting at our car right before it flipped and I lost consciousness.
No one would listen to my account of the story, and my father simply dismissed it as trauma from my brother’s death. It makes me wonder if this whole situation today is someone sending me a message to back away.
Perhaps it is Fyodor, trying to make himself look good.
It doesn’t sound plausible, but people do go to extreme lengths to keep their secrets. The only person who can answer what exactly went wrong is Ray. But how am I going to reach him? I don’t think I can trust him any longer; not when I almost died because of him.
“You need to tell me exactly what happened, but first, let's get you to safety.” Fyodor leads me out.
“What about Oleg? Is he safe?”
“Yes. He’s safe. He managed to evade your pursuers before driving to the nearest police station.”
That brings me great relief, as I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to him.
Someone is determined to go to extreme lengths to keep me from finding out what happened to my brother.
And now, instead of being scared, I am more determined than ever to prove beyond a doubt that someone murdered my brother.
I will make them pay, whoever they might be.