“You understand, right?” Captain Brian Baylord said to Russell as they met at police headquarters with a young representative from the district attorney’s office. The young woman with Brian, who hadn’t introduced herself, sat quietly and didn’t seem to have anything to add.
“If you’re asking me to put the brakes on a joint investigation we’ve been working for this long—that’s not going to happen,” Russell said as he spread his hands out and shook his head. “Is the commissioner aware of your request?”
“I spoke to him and he understands our concerns,” Brian said, pointing between himself and the woman. “Some things that are at times uncovered in these cases are understood incorrectly, and it causes problems to friends of the department. You have to admit that’s the truth in things like this.”
“In my experience,” Russell said, standing up and ready to walk, “the facts lead us where they lead us for a reason. If that’s a problem for anyone, then I’m sure someone like you two can smooth things over. For reference, should I get a call from the DA’s office, your name is?” he asked, staring at the woman.
“I’m sure you won’t need that,” the woman said as she stood and calmly walked out. It was smart, since it’d take him a while with a staff as large as the district attorney’s office to identify her, if need be.
Russell and Brian watched her go, and Brian wasn’t getting to his feet. “Anything else?”
“No, I think we understand each other,” Brian said with a smile.
“I think so,” Russell said, not believing he’d wasted this much time with this ass, since it was dark when he got outside. When Finley had called, he’d used the ruse of fumbling with his phone to photograph both of the public employees who’d demanded an audience.
He wanted to talk to Finley but would wait until he heard from her and had a better understanding of what all this crap meant. “Hey,” he said to Peter Stanley, Finley’s partner in his unit, over the phone after texting Peter the woman’s picture. When Finley had gone undercover, Peter had volunteered to assist another field office with some technical problems they were experiencing. “Can you find someone for me and keep it quiet?”
“Sure. You got a starting place?”
Peter was almost as good as Finley when the pressure was on. “Check your messages. She works for the DA, supposedly, and he gave his name as Captain Brian Baylord, with an office in police headquarters.”
“Give me an hour and I’ll give you what I’ve got.”
When he scanned the area again from the spot where he’d stopped, he noticed the woman he’d met with staring at him with her hands buried in the pockets of her coat. “How about I call you, and, Peter, make sure you don’t share this with anyone. I’m serious about that part.”
“Don’t worry—our little secret.”
He ended the call and looked the woman straight in the eye. The woman glanced away first, but with a laugh, so he didn’t think it was a test of wills. “We’re not the only ones with secrets.”
*
“Who are you?” the older girl asked Finley when Abigail excused herself to change out of her bloody clothes. All three children were awake now and surprisingly subdued.
“My name’s Finley Abbott and I’m a police officer. See,” she said as she held up the gold shield she’d been issued. “I’m here to make sure you’re all okay until you get home. What’s your name?”
“I’m Sadie, she’s Victoria, and that’s Liam,” Sadie said, her hesitancy coming from fear, Finley guessed. “Why did that man hurt our mom?”
“I’m not sure, but we’ll figure it out. I promise.”
Abigail came out in jeans and a T-shirt, combing her hair back. It was the first time Finley had realized how attractive she was and how much all three of her children resembled her. They all seemed to share Abigail’s reddish-blond hair, bluish clear eyes, and fair skin.
“Come here, my beauties,” Abigail said as she sat on the sofa and opened her uninjured arm to them, prompting all three children to run to her. “Everyone okay?”
The question started another jag of crying, so Finley took the opportunity to make a few calls. Forty minutes later a hotel staffer was at the door with bags from McDonald’s, which seemed to take everyone’s mind off the day’s events. Finley set up a picnic on the floor and waited until they were done, knowing she wouldn’t be able to speak to Abigail until the kids were asleep.
That took a few more hours, and she waited for what seemed to be a familiar nightly ritual between Abigail and the kids. When Abigail came out again, she was still dressed the same but had removed her shoes. Those bare feet brought back memories of her own childhood and her mom’s assurances as she headed to the adventure of her dreamscape, as she put it.
“How’s the arm?” she asked when Abigail sat on the sofa across from her and closed her eyes. It was strange that Abigail wasn’t a little more freaked out with her presence in her room.
“It hurts like a bitch, actually, and I’m pissed about it, so now that we don’t have an audience, you’re going to tell me why this happened.” Abigail’s bluntness made more sense and was easier for Finley to relate to.
“I’ve got some theories, but can we get through some questions first to see which one might be right?”
Abigail lifted her feet off the ground and folded her legs under her. “Let’s see, Detective. Which one of us got shot and needs answers?” Abigail rubbed her face and grunted. She sounded like a woman whose bad day had just crashed down on her.
“Okay, this morning you and the children walked into a total anomaly, and that started a domino effect.”
Abigail opened her eyes and stared at her like she’d just said she was there from Mars and was about to suck her brains out with a small straw.
“First of all, anomaly sucks as a description,” Abigail said and put her feet back down a little too fast to be from anything but fear. “And how did you know what happened this morning?” Abigail put her hands up and shook her head. “Wait, I can see you’d know what happened, but how do you know I was there?”
“Dr. Eaton, I’m not going to hurt you, so please calm down.”
“Do you know what pisses me off more than anything?”
“Someone telling you to calm down?” she said and bit her bottom lip trying not to laugh. “Or is it the word ‘anomaly’ for the massacre that happened this morning?”
“We’ve only known each other a few hours, and already you’re a faster learner than my late partner. She never could quite understand that first one, but I don’t want to give you the impression I’m a total bitch by speaking like that about someone I loved.”
“I get the impression you’re a woman who knows what she wants and realizes you have to speak up to get it.” She opened one of the soft drinks the kids had left and took a big swig. “How about you ask the questions and somewhere in there we both find what we’re looking for?”
“Why me?” Abigail asked.
It was the only question Finley had no answer for.
*
“Did you get that other location open for tonight?” Linda Bender asked the mountain of a man standing in front of her desk. Boris St. John scared her, but she tried never to show her nervousness around him or any of the other guys so as to not lose any of the hard-earned respect she’d fought for from her first day.
“We opened three more,” Boris said as he crushed a handful of pistachios in his fist.
“We’ve got that much inventory?” She glanced down at her manifest.
“Boss brought in double in anticipation of what happened. He didn’t tell you?” He threw the nuts into his mouth and laughed. “I thought you were the teacher’s pet.”
“I knew he was upping the numbers, but usually there’s a break-in period for the women.”
“That’s not always the case.” He placed his hand on the ledgers she concerned herself with more than anyone else in the business did. “Where do you think your bonuses come from, baby?”
“Call me baby again and I’ll shoot you in the ass,” she said as she knocked Boris’s hand off the book. “And what the hell are you talking about?”
Their boss, Yury, spoke up. “These women fight their fate only so long, and plenty of people pay for the privilege of breaking them.” Yury had come in while she and Boris stared at each other. “Once the fight’s beaten out of them, it’s off to the trailers, where the more unimaginative fuckers line up to take care of that itch. Lazy, if you ask me.”
Linda now fought off the urge to shiver at that kind of fate. Every so often she had a case of conscience, and only a look at her finances helped it pass. She cursed her late father for deserting the family too soon and leaving her no choice but to accept her Uncle Yury’s offer of a job. In their family there was no such thing as charity, even if the death of her father, his brother, had been totally his fault. At least that had always been her opinion, and her education on the family business had cured her of any grief she’d wasted on her father. He’d not only condoned this type of behavior, but he’d also reveled in it.
They traded people like animals and always preyed on the most vulnerable and weak. She was supposed to learn the lesson to never be that fucking exposed. Only the strong enjoyed life and power, so she was lucky to be the eldest of Victor Antakov, and even luckier to be the niece of Yury Antakov.
“Do you disapprove, Linda,” Yury asked as he sat in the seat she’d vacated and ran his fingers down the crease of his pants to the knee. As always, he was impeccably dressed in a suit it’d take the women under their control months to purchase, if they had the decency to pay them even minimum wage. They weren’t that decent.
“My job isn’t to approve, Uncle Yury. It’s only to make sure things run smoothly and that our secrets stay within the family.” She heard Boris chuckle and came close to shooting him, the consequences be damned, since Yury depended on Boris to keep his operation running smoothly. “Isn’t that what you always say?”
“Boris,” Yury said, and in an instant the big man was gone. “I sense something’s bothering you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m sure you’ve got plenty on your mind.” She wanted out of this oppressive building that smelled of moldy paper, cigarettes, and dust.
It was the first piece of real estate her grandfather had purchased in his new homeland, and the old warehouse held every one of their sins on all that yellowing paper. To her it was nuts, but the men in her family believed in the ledger. There nothing could be hidden or lost, like in a computer, and anyone who came with thoughts of taking them away added to the lore and dust of the old place when they were eliminated to keep the books safe.
“Spit it out already and cut the shit.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” she said in the same bored tone she always tried to use at work, since men tried their best to read something into the smallest things.
“Is this about Boris and what you were talking about before?” Yury asked, slapping his hands together.
“Uncle, I more than anyone know I serve and work for you at your pleasure. What you trust me with, you do, and what you have reason not to, you don’t. I went to the meeting with Captain Baylor, and I doubt his influence will stop the investigation. That’s my opinion, anyway, and you know I don’t have those often.” She never lost eye contact with him as she spoke, but it had to do more with gauging his reaction for any funny surprises than making him think she cared what he thought. “Men like Boris are the ones with the opinions and snide remarks. All I want is to take care of my mother and family in my father’s memory.”
“How are your mother and little brothers?” he asked, his cultured and practiced accent digressing to a more Russian accentuation on the word brothers.
“Good,” she said and smiled for the first time that day. “They’re doing well in school, and they both are getting ready to try out for the wrestling team.”
“Ah, like me and Victor.” He slapped his hands again and laughed. “It’s in the genes. Don’t forget that. You can’t deny your family.”
Not if I can help it, fucker, she thought as she laughed with him. Once she had enough money, she was taking her brothers somewhere the Antakov name didn’t mean shit. She’d have to leave their mother behind because she was too engrained in the old ways, but she was okay with that. Her brothers were safe for that moment in the private boarding school that was her greatest expense.
“Yes, just like you and Papa. You can be proud.” She was tired of the lying, but it’d become the extent of her life, so she plowed on. “Is there something else I can do for you? You usually don’t like coming down here if you can help it.”
“Boris said one of those women was able to get a message out.” Yury’s voice was deceptively calm, but she could sense the anger under the surface, like slight ripples in a pool. “How the hell did that happen?”
“Boris is the security man, and from my understanding one of the men got a phone in while we were set up at the construction site on the river.” She walked to one of the black filing cabinets and took out a red notebook from the middle drawer. “I’m not sure who forgot the pat-downs, but I sent a couple of guys over to see our Papa Bell and explain the rules again and to warn him about coming by now that he’s been exiled.”
“Did you have him checked out?” he asked as she pointed out the notation she’d made about the incident.
“Yes, sir, and he swore on his mother that the girl only wanted to talk to her mother, and he didn’t see the harm. I turned his life inside out and discovered he was a construction worker with a soft spot for hookers. There wasn’t anything sinister about it, and the guys working the sites understand that the next time it’s their balls on the line.” She put the book away and returned to her seat. “I’m surprised Boris didn’t share that with you.”
“Everyone has their own agenda. Don’t forget that, either.” He stood and pulled the lapels of his jacket to adjust the fit. “Take an extra twenty from this month’s take and treat yourself to something nice. You’ve been working too hard, so take a break and come by for dinner. I want to talk to you about a few things.”
“I’d love to.” She kissed both his cheeks when he came close, glad her day was almost over. “Call me with a date.”
Yury placed his hands on her cheeks and stared at her for a long time before letting her go with a kiss to her forehead. “Your papa would be so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Uncle. That means a lot to me.” She saw the softening in his expression, so she decided to take a chance for once. “I don’t want to ever disappoint you or his memory, so I hope what happened today had nothing to do with me. If it did, let me bear the weight of it alone.”
He touched a few fingers to her cheeks and shook his head. “Today had nothing to do with you, precious girl. It was a necessary purging, but sometimes we must do unsavory things for new beginnings, and we could all use those every so often. True?”
“True,” she responded and watched him go. “What the hell was that?” she muttered aloud.