Chapter 41 Asher #2
“We recently discovered that Senator Sanders has been Sergei Antonov’s go-to for cutting red tape and getting imports through.”
Sergei Antonov, the oil tycoon and owner of TDC Oil, deals heavily in Russian oil. He was born and raised in the US, but his father was from Russia. Our families have been friends for three decades, and I briefly dated his daughter Katrina after college at the behest of my parents.
“We can also confirm that the whispers that Sergei’s family has ties to the Russian mafia are indeed true.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. But how is my grandfather factored into all this? The Langford’s have never dealt in oil, and TDC hasn’t shown any interest in Greenspan until recently.”
Then it hits me.
“Freestone Tires. Fuck, how did I not see it?”
Freestone Tires is one of the oldest companies bought and owned by Langford Holdings.
It was purchased in the mid 1800s, and in the 1930s, Freestone started using petroleum to make synthetic rubber for tires.
Tire sales boomed around WWII, and Freestone Tires became one of the most profitable companies owned by Langford Holdings.
“Exactly,” Oliver says. “Your grandfather bought most of the oil for tire production from TDC up until 1997. But in 1998 when their contract was up, he started buying from other companies more often, and TDC slowly slipped down the list to the point where your grandfather only bought from them on occasion by the year 2000. But Tyrone and I haven’t figured out why.
It wasn’t money driven because he was buying at a similar price from the other companies, so why the sudden change? ”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to look into the company records.”
“From what we’ve gathered, it looks as though Sergei and his family counterparts in Russia were not happy with this, and that eventually led to the night they took you both hostage.”
I was an unplanned hostage that evening because I wanted to spend a night of adventures with my grandfather in his larger-than-life house that felt full of magic and mischief. The night that changed me and my life, forever.
“What I do have for you is the name of the goons who killed your grandfather and crashed the car.”
He hands me a piece of paper with the men’s names on them.
All four of them Russian. I would have never known—none of them had had a hint of an accent.
They must have all been American born with ties to their motherland, like Sergei.
But then I remember that there were five men there that night, not four. I tell Oliver.
“I’ll keep looking,” he assures me. “Whoever the fifth person is, we’ll find him and bring him to justice.”
But this won’t be the due process type of justice.
I’m past that now. And while I know the men didn’t intend to kill my grandfather that night, they were supposed to question and threaten him, that doesn’t change what happened.
Accident or not, they killed my grandfather right in front of me.
And then they tried to kill me to cover their asses.
Unfortunately, the only part of the night that is a blur in my memory is the part that would have helped us track them down years ago.
I didn’t hear the questions they were shouting at him because I was beaten as well during the questioning and had a gun to my head.
But if I could remember what they were asking and what they were threatening, it would give me more to go on now.
“I don’t think Sergei is the one who ordered the hostage situation,” Oliver says.
“But I do think he spoke of his business woes with the Langfords to his family back in Russia, and they read between the lines and ordered the hit for him. And to be doubly sure Sergei was protected, Senator Sanders made sure everything was cleaned up or destroyed after the attack. The two goons that survived the crash were hunted down and killed by their own men to tie up the loose ends.”
After twenty-five years, I finally have some real answers. But god, the Russian mafia is about the last thing I want to fuck with.
“What has the situation with TDC Oil been like since my grandfather’s death? I’ve never looked into that aspect of our business.”
“It’s improved significantly. Langford Holdings went from buying only ten percent of their oil from TDC in 2000, to fifty percent almost as soon as your great uncle, Albert, took over that account after your grandfather’s death.
The company’s ties to TDC Oil never fully returned to its previous state before 1998, but they have slowly continued to improve.
Now, Langford Holdings buys seventy percent of their oil from TDC. ”
“Did Albert have any dealings with TDC prior to the murder?”
“We’re looking into that now.”
Goddammit, I’ve been so blind. Albert was my grandfather’s brother.
He died five years ago, but he was known for his frigid relationship with my grandfather.
Much like my own father and my uncle, Conrad.
This is why my parents put such emphasis on Declan, Sterling, and I to be close.
They watched my grandfather and his brother hate each other their whole lives, and my father and uncle still rarely agree on anything and can barely stand to be in the same room as each other.
And yet, they have to run one of the largest companies in the world together.
With the Langfords, family and business are both our blessing and our curse.
But could my great uncle Albert have been evil enough to have been involved with what happened to my grandfather?
He was the younger son. He was known to be jealous of his older brother, the heir.
I would hope not, but it seems highly suspicious that right after my grandfather, who cut almost all ties with TDC oil, died, his brother stepped in and took over that part of the business and immediately restored ties with TDC.
I’ve gone from no leads and a dry well to too many possibilities all at once.
“Thank you, Oliver. This gives me a lot to go on. You and Tyrone keep at it, and keep me informed.”
“Will do, sir.”
After he leaves, I sit with my phone for a moment, debating my next move.
My family knows about my grandfather’s murder, and they know I’ve been investigating it.
But I’ve held all the cards close to my chest. I can’t exactly say why, other than it’s personal to me.
I was also kidnapped that night. I’d had a gun held to my head.
I was meant to die in the car crash they used to cover my grandfather’s death.
The events of that night are personal to our whole family, but even more so to me.
With all the leads running dry year after year, I’ve never bothered to enmesh my brothers in this because what was the point?
There was nothing to investigate. But now I have the first concrete thing to go on in years, and I need to be smart about it.
I know my strengths, but I’m also not too proud to admit my limitations, and I know Sterling is much more suited to gathering information than I am.
It’s time I pull him into the investigation and see how far he can get with these breadcrumbs.
I pick up my phone and call him.
“We need to talk,” I say as soon as he answers. “In person. Meet me at the office in thirty minutes.”
I hang up before he can refuse or question me. He knows me well enough to know this is no idle request and that if it was something I could speak to him about over the phone, I would have.
I head out of the cafe and into my waiting car.
It’s time to finally start finding justice for my grandfather.