Determinant

by E. H. Reinhard

  There was a muffling of the phone.

  “Viktor Azarov! Viktor Azarov!” Callie shouted.

  I heard a noise. The message ended.

  I hung up and called her phone. It went straight to her voicemail. She didn’t have a home phone. I replayed the message to catch the whispering at the beginning. The message started.

  “Carl, there’s someone in my house. I’m hiding in the bathroom. They’re just outside my bedroom. I’m going to hang up and call 9-1-1.”

  The rest of the message played. I wrote down the name she shouted and tried calling her again. It went to voicemail. I grabbed my keys from my desk and headed for the door.

  Hank stopped me in the hall. “Where’s the fire?”

  “Someone was in Callie’s house last night. She tried calling me. I can’t get a hold of her. She yelled a name, Viktor Azarov.”

  “Never heard of him. You going to her house?”

  “Yeah.” I went past him down the hall.

  “You want me to go with?”

  I walked backward and spoke. “Get going on what we were talking about. Timmons is giving us four guys. Check with him. I’ll call you.”

  I turned and pushed open the doors that led out to the parking structure. The key fob in my pocket unlocked the Corvette’s doors. I got in my car and fired the motor. I called District Two.

  “Tampa Police Department non-emergency line. How can I help you?”

  “This is Lieutenant Kane from District Three. Did you get a 9-1-1 call around quarter to five this morning?”

  “Let me check.” The sound of her typing came through the ear piece. “Nothing reported or dispatched, Lieutenant. Last 9-1-1 call was a commercial break in at 3:36 a.m. We haven’t had one since.”

  “Can you dispatch a car to 1186 Landcastle Drive? I believe there was a home invasion there last night. I’m on my way there now.”

  “Family?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll get a car out now. I’ll let them know you’ll be arriving.”

  “Thank you.”

  I hung up and put my foot into the gas. I didn’t have lights installed on my Corvette yet. If a sheriff came after me down the freeway I’d have to call into their station and hope they relayed the message. I’d take my chances. I wove through cars out of Tampa on I-4 until I hit I-75 North. There was minimal traffic. I took the Corvette well over a hundred miles per hour. I exited the freeway. After speeding down a few surface streets, I got to the entrance of Callie’s subdivision.

  I pulled to the box and thumbed in the entry code. The gates creaked and rattled as they allowed me through. I sped two blocks down and made a right. I pulled to the curb in front of Callie’s and slid to a stop. A police cruiser from District Two sat across the street. The officer wasn’t inside. I jogged to the front door and kicked the welcome mat to the side. The key was still there. I pulled my service weapon and unlocked the house.

  The officer walked from around the side of the house. “Excuse me, Sir?” he asked.

  I looked to him. He appeared fresh out of the academy. He saw my weapon and drew his. “Drop the weapon!”

  “I’m Lieutenant Kane from District Three. Get your ass up here and back me up.”

  My badge hung from my neck. He must have caught a glimpse of it and came behind me at the front door.

  “Is this your house?” he asked.

  “Girlfriend’s.” I put my index finger over my mouth to get him to zip it. I pushed the front door open and pointed inside. “Let’s go.”

  I looked at his nameplate. His last name was Brander.

  Chapter 20

  I stood at the shattered doorway of the master bathroom. Splinters of the door sill lay scattered on the floor. The door’s interior knob was embedded into the wall. We cleared the house. Officer Brander and I were alone inside. The sinking feeling in my gut grew stronger with each passing minute. I failed Callie. My phone should have been on. She should have been with me.

  “Call this in. Get some guys out here,” I said.

  Officer Brander made the call.

  I spent twenty minutes searching the house for anything resembling a clue as to what happened. Aside from the damaged bathroom, there was nothing. I searched the house for anything that would tell me where she’d been taken—again nothing. As soon as the other officers arrived I headed back to the station. I left the crew at her house with strict orders to call me if they uncovered anything.

  I listened to Callie’s message again. The name, Viktor Azarov, was committed to memory. I dialed Timmons in Patrol to see what he could find on him.

  “Sergeant Timmons.”

  “Timmons, it’s Kane. I need you to pull a sheet.”

  “Name?”

  “Viktor Azarov.”

  “Spelling?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Okay, I’ll try a couple different ways. That last name sounds Russian. One second.”

  I could hear typing.

  “Got him. He’s flagged. Says here to call Lieutenant Harrington at Miami Dade PD. Want me to make the call?”

  “I’ll do it. I’m only a few minutes out. Send the sheet over to my email.”

  I pulled my car into the structure and headed inside to my office. I clicked at my computer to get the sheet from my email. There was a photo and a short bio. He had a few questionable priors. The rap sheet was thin. I called the lieutenant in Miami. He wasn’t in the building. Their dispatch put me through to his cell phone.

  “Lieutenant Harrington.”

  “This is Lieutenant Kane from TPD Homicide. What can you tell me about a Viktor Azarov? I need to find him.”

  “Azarov? What’s going on?”

  I told him what happened.

  “Well, I’m out at a scene right now. Let me put the word out and see if we can pick him up. I’ve been trying to get this guy for the last couple of years. I just can’t get anything to stick.”

  “What can you tell me?”

  “He’s a Russian business man with questionable dealings. The guy has even more questionable associates. Rival business owners disappearing—lots of money coming in and out. The guy reeks of organized crime.”

  “Are you guys keeping eyes on him?”

  “We can’t. His lawyers threatened to sue our department for harassment. We can never get anything concrete. Any time we think we have a witness, they’ll either stop cooperating or vanish.”

  “Does this guy have associates Tampa?”

  “I’m sure he does. I’ll get someone back at the station send you over everything on him right away. Let me get the email to send it to.”

  I gave him my email address.

  “Got it. This number good to get back in touch with you if we get him picked up?”

  “This number is fine. If I’m not at my desk, my office voicemail has my mobile number.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate the help.” I was about to hang up.

  “Lieutenant?” he asked.

  I pulled the phone back to my ear. “Still here.”

  “Find her as soon as you can. When people disappear around this guy, they’re not found.”

  His warning didn’t do anything to help my state of mind. “I’ll find her.” I hung up.

  My fingers tapped the surface of my desk waiting for the file. I hit refresh. I knew it wouldn’t hit my inbox for another ten minutes at the earliest. Someone had my girlfriend. Someone had my pregnant girlfriend. I ground my teeth and hit refresh again. Nothing. I wouldn’t let myself think of an outcome where I didn’t find her. I clenched my fists and brought them down into the armrests of my desk chair.

  The captain knocked and my door and walked in.

  “Hank said something happened with Callie. What’s going on?”

  I took a minute to calm myself before answering. “Someone took her from her house early this morning.”

  “Took her? What? Abducted her? What do we know?” />
  “All I know is she called me in the middle of the night and said someone was in her house. She said a name, Viktor Azarov. I went there. The upstairs bathroom door had been kicked in, and she’s nowhere to be found.”

  “Viktor Azarov?”

  “That’s the name she said.”

  “Who is he? What did you find?”

  “Russian organized crime from Miami. Lieutenant at Miami Dade is sending me the file.”

  “How is she connected?”

  “I’m not sure. She’s from Miami. The guy on the phone asked her where some case was?”

  “Guy on the phone?”

  “Here.”

  I pulled up the message from my voicemail and played it for the captain.

  He listened. He wrinkled his face and scratched at his mustache. “You probably don’t want to hear this but I have to say it.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “She is or was involved with this Azarov somehow.”

  “I got that, Cap.”

  “Did you ever pull her sheet?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should do that while you wait for that file to come. I’m going to run this by the major and see how he wants to proceed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s an abduction. We have proof of it. She’s missing. Protocol on that says we contact the Feds.”

  “I’m not leaving finding my pregnant girlfriend to the Feds. I don’t give a shit what you say. It’s not happening.”

  “Pregnant girlfriend?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll talk to Danes.”

  “Is the voicemail enough to get a warrant for this guy?”

  “It should be enough to bring him in for questioning. I’ll see what I can do.” The captain walked from my office.

  I plugged Callie Green into our system. The name came back without a match. I expanded the search to statewide—nothing. I went nationwide. It kicked me out eighteen results. I went through each. None of them were her. I tried Calista Green even though when we first met I asked her if Callie was short for Calista and she said no. Twenty-four people by that name came up nationwide. None of the sheets belonged to her. I tried spelling her last name Greene, which I knew was wrong. I still didn’t get any results. My girlfriend didn’t exist.

  My email flashed that I had a message. I abandoned my search for Callie and opened the message. It was from the Miami PD. I opened the file on my computer screen. Multiple folders came up labeled: Associates, Businesses, Properties, Cases, and Organized Crime. Lieutenant Harrington must have been building this file for years.

  I clicked the Properties folder first looking for anything close. While he had many properties listed, nothing came up outside of Miami in the state. I wouldn’t drive to Miami and start knocking on doors until I ruled out that she wasn’t in the area. If Major Danes brought in the Feds, I could use their resources to get started on a search down there.

  I closed the folder and opened the one labeled Associates. If I found someone local, I could shake them down. The first associate sheet stopped me dead in my tracks. Photos of multiple mug shots of a man filled the screen. Surveillance photos of him with his shirt off showed his entire upper body was covered in tattoos. Both arms, shoulder to wrist, were wrapped. The man was Viktor’s brother. His name was Andrei Azarov. The height listed was six foot six inches. The weight was three forty-four. I found the bartender’s sketch and held it next to the screen. It was the same guy.

  I printed the sheet from my computer and ripped it from the tray of the printer. Along with the sketch, I took Andrei Azarov’s sheet straight to the captain. He sat at his desk. I stuck the papers in front of him. “Found him.”

  He took the printout and sketch from my hand. He adjusted his glasses on his nose.

  “Shit. That’s a match. No doubt. I’ll get the warrant taken care of. Let’s get the name out to everyone.”

  I nodded.

  I took the sheet to Timmons over in Patrol. He put word over the radio as I waited. Every car we had on the streets would be looking for the guy. I took it to Sam James next and told him to get the name and photos everywhere. I headed back for my desk.

  While the file revealed his brother to us, it didn’t help me get closer to figuring out what they’d done with Callie. There had to be something in the file that could lead me to her—an associate, business, something that came out of Tampa.

  I dug back into it. I went through every one of the twenty some associates listed. No one lived in Tampa. I browsed through the Organized Crime folder. The folder was filled with information about human trafficking, racketeering, business fronts and questions regarding counterfeiting. Nothing that would help me find Callie. I pushed forward.

  I browsed through the Cases folder. Harrington didn’t exaggerate. Four cases got thrown out for witnesses no longer wanting to cooperate. Two cases had been dismissed because the key witness vanished.

  I let out a breath and opened the Businesses folder. Nothing operated from the immediate area. Viktor had numerous businesses in the United States as well as multiple others overseas. I stuck with the ones located in Florida. There was an import and export business as well as a few nightclubs. Each business had an address and a phone number. I called each one looking to see if Mister Azarov was in. I figured if he was at any of the businesses, Harrington could dispatch someone to pick him up. He was nowhere I called. I continued on.

  Each business name had a file of employees. I browsed over five or six names and rap sheets for the first business listed. The company was called Matryoshka Trading. It appeared they liked to hire ex-cons. There was nothing that raised a flag with me in the trading company.

  I looked into the next business. A nightclub in Miami called Napitok. I weeded through the staff, starting with the bar managers. They were all Russian, all had rap sheets and were all listed as living in Miami. I clicked on the other staff file. A page came up with names, photos and their role at the nightclub. My eyes caught the photo before I ever saw the name. It may as well have had flashing lights around the picture. It was Callie. She was a hostess. Her name was listed as Calista Albero.

  I didn’t know what to make of it. She worked for them. There was no denying that she was involved with them. She had a different name. I stared at her photo on the screen.

  I plugged the name into the computer. She was clean, zero priors.

  Chapter 21

  “Where is she?” Viktor asked.

  Ray held his cell phone to his ear outside the wine room door. He stared through the metal gate at Callie lying on the ground up against the wall. “She’s locked in the wine room.”

  “Has she said anything?”

  “She can’t.”

  “Why can’t she? I told you not to touch her.”

  “She wouldn’t shut up so I taped her mouth.”

  “Is that it? Did you hurt her?”

  “No, Viktor. I didn’t do anything.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  Ray kicked the metal door. Callie woke up. She stared at Ray. Her eyes were filled with hate. “Staying inside like you instructed. I’ve been checking in on the little bitch every few hours. She’s fine.”

  Ray took his knife from his pocket. He flipped it open. He stared at Callie and jerked the blade left to right in front of his neck.

  “Just leave her alone until I get there. I’m just getting on the plane. I’ll be there in a little over an hour. Can you leave her there and pick me up?”

  “Yeah, she’s not going anywhere.”

  “She’ll damn well try if you’re not there. Tie her up. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “I’ll tie her up alright.”

  “Just tie her hands and legs—nothing else. After we have the case you can do whatever you want with her.”

  Ray smiled. “I already have some ideas.”

  “Case first. I’ll call you when we’re about to land.”

  “OK, Viktor.�
�� Ray hung up.

  He ran the blade of the knife across the wrought iron gate of the wine room. It clicked as it slapped against each separate metal bar.

  “Viktor says I have to tie you up.”

  Callie mumbled something into the duct tape.

  “What’s that? You like being tied up?”

  She mumbled something else.

  Ray grabbed the roll of duct tape that he used to cover her mouth. He fished the key for the wine room’s gate from his pocket. He unlocked the door and stepped in. Callie jumped to her feet and tried running out. Ray stuck out his tree sized arm and knocked her to the floor.

  “You think you can get away from me?”

  He looked at her lying at his feet and sprawled down on top of her. He licked the side of her face. “We’re going to have some fun later. You’re just my type. I like it when they fight.”

  Callie brought her knee up into his groin. Ray’s massive legs blocked her attempt.

  Ray smiled. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

  She ripped her left hand from under his arm and dug her fingernails into the side of his face. Ray reached up and took her hand away. A drip of blood ran down his cheek. Ray wrapped her wrist in duct tape and grabbed her other arm. He taped them together using half of the roll. She’d never be able to break free. He went to wrap her ankles. She kicked. She wouldn’t overpower him. Ray wrapped her ankles with the rest of the tape roll.

  He stood and wiped at the fingernail scratches on his cheek. Blood covered his palm. He reached down and wiped it across Callie’s face. She ripped her head back and forth.

  Ray left the wine room and locked the door. “Now you be good while I’m out. I’ll be back with Viktor.”

  Callie screamed into the tape covering her mouth.

  Viktor chuckled and headed for the bathroom to clean up the blood on his face.

  Chapter 22

  My desk phone rang.

  I scooped it up. “Lieutenant Kane.”

  “Hey, it’s Bostok. Come in here.”

  He hung up.

  I walked over.

  “Did you just try to pull the sheet for Calista Albero? I take that it’s Callie?”