Jaxson: A Romantic Suspense (V Mafia Series Book 3)

by Karice Bolton

  “How are you doing?” Cindy, the hostess, asked. “We haven’t seen you for a few weeks.”

  “My sister’s in town.” I pointed next to me and Cindy smiled. “This is Sadie, shopping addict.”

  “A woman after my own heart. Boy, you two definitely look like sisters.” Cindy smiled, grabbing two menus and marking me off from the reservation list. “Right this way.”

  We followed Cindy through the intimate restaurant where wine bottles had been turned into light fixtures and red velvet drapes hung from the large windows.

  Cindy sat us at a wonderful table in the corner of the restaurant that allowed us to people watch as the night went on, and she took our bags to the back closet so we could have more room.

  I thanked Cindy, and my sister leaned forward, viewing the menu.

  “So how many times do you come here?”

  “Technically, I only grab my takeout from Cindy.” I grinned. “Everything on the menu is wonderful, and I mean everything.”

  “You’ve tried it all?” My sister’s eyes widened.

  “Sure have.”

  Our server came and took our drink orders, and I glanced out the window overlooking the sidewalk. The creepy feeling had long since left, and I could finally relax, which told me everything had to be in my head.

  “It looked like you were really enjoying Jaxson’s company last night.” My sister’s expression turned serious.

  “You mean Jax?” I smiled, trying to take the edge off my sister’s stare.

  “Precisely.” She took a sip of water and glanced out the window. “They’re all charming, aren’t they? And Devin’s fiancée seems nice, but they were both awfully interested in you.”

  “I’d imagine if Jax never dates, they’d be curious why he decided to try me on for size.”

  “You’re making light of it, but I’m telling you there was something almost threatening about how Devin asked questions about you, especially once you left the table with Jax.”

  “Like what?”

  “He kept pressing me for details about what you write. He wanted to look you up.”

  “That’s only natural. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I have to point people in the direction of my work once they find out I write.”

  “This was different. I’m telling you that I’m worried.”

  “How has that changed since this whole idea popped into my head?”

  “I just don’t want them to find out who you really are and what you’re really up to.” She drew a long breath. “And if he’s falling for you…”

  She didn’t finish her sentence and didn’t have to. We both knew he was, and if he was a normal human being instead of a killing machine, I might feel a little remorse about what I’m about to do to his heart.

  “He’ll get over it and me. He’s only fascinated with me because I stuck up for myself and didn’t let him bully me around.”

  “I’d imagine for a man like him that’s not a trait he often comes across.”

  “I’m going to treat him like a fun boy toy and leave it at that.”

  Our server came, bringing our drinks and taking our orders.

  I took a sip of wine, and I felt my heart tighten slightly at the thought of Jax. When he looked at me last night what I saw was honest and raw, but what I planned to do him was the same. My emotions have been raw since Joey was taken from us and I want to make Jax an honest man.

  “What if you fall for him?”

  My gaze flew to hers.

  “I won’t.”

  “You don’t know that. I saw how you looked at him.”

  “I looked at him like that because if I didn’t, he’d know something was up. These men kill based on an expression.”

  She wore a helpless smile and sighed. “There’s no changing your mind. I know that. I love you, and it kills me to say this, but I feel like you’re one step away from having to do a daily check-in with me.”

  “That’s worse than Mom.” I laughed and took another sip of wine right as my phone buzzed. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll do it.”

  I grabbed my phone out of my purse and glanced at the screen.

  “It’s him, isn’t it?” My sister asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Excitement drilled through me from just one text from the man, but I didn’t know if it was because my plan was working or because I was genuinely happy to hear from him. I glanced down at the screen again and read the text.

  Here’s something else I don’t do. I don’t text women, but I can’t get you out of my head. Every meeting I sat in today, I used as an excuse to dream about you. I look forward to our dinner tomorrow, and please tell your sister it’s been lovely getting to know her. I wish her safe travels.

  I glanced up at Sadie. “Jax said it was lovely getting to know you.”

  “He didn’t get to know me. I was only playing a part. A part for you.”

  I let out a deep sigh. “I know, and I appreciate it.”

  “Here’s a question for you.”

  “What?”

  “What if it’s not just about you? What if they find out who you are and what you plan to do and they come after Mom and Dad? Then how would you feel?”

  My blood turned icy and I panicked.

  “What kind of question is that? You know how I’d feel, but that’s not going to happen.”

  “You can’t be sure.”

  “Calamari on the house.” Our server brought over one of my all-time favorites from here, fried calamari with lemon and garlic aioli.

  “Thank you,” I told the server and waved at Cindy, who smiled.

  “Let’s not talk about this anymore. This is your last night here, and we had a fabulous brunch, followed by shopping, and now a dinner at one of my favorite restaurants.”

  “Okay. Deal.” She shook my hand before dipping calamari in the sauce and taking a bite.

  After a few seconds of silence, she settled into her chair and relaxed a little more.

  “Why do you think they’re trying to tie Missy to the rest of the murders?” my sister asked, leaving me completely surprised.

  “Well, that’s not what I expected you to bring up.” I cocked my head and raised a brow, unsure whether she really wanted to hear my thoughts.

  “Just because I worry about what you do for living, doesn’t mean I don’t find it fascinating.”

  My anxiety eased as I began relaying my thoughts.

  “I think there’s a bigger cover-up going on, but I don’t know who’s behind it or what they’re trying to cover up. It could be the police trying to cover up sloppy police work, it could be the councilman putting pressure on the department to tie everything together so his family has a resolution, or I guess it could be that they have real evidence backing their claim that I’m not privy to.” I swallowed away that last thought. “I highly doubt that though. I was looking at the photos last night.”

  “When you were supposed to be sleeping?” She took another bite of calamari.

  “Possibly.” I smiled mischievously. “And there are so many things that are off. As I’ve mentioned before, Missy’s restraints weren’t the same, the way she was stabbed and marked up doesn’t match any of the other entry wounds on the other victims, and where she was found doesn’t make sense either. Also, all the other women also had drug paraphernalia on them and around them and Missy didn’t. I don’t know. Things aren’t adding up.”

  “I almost think you find it more fascinating than investigating the Volkovs.”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “After all, we know what they did. They killed Joey.”

  She shook her head and didn’t say anything as my phone rang. I quickly silenced it and watched the call go to voicemail. I didn’t recognize the number and my worry quickly returned.

  “What’s wrong?” Sadie asked, glancing at my phone.

  “Nothing. Probably just another scam phone call.”

  I watched the voicemail alert come on my screen and decided to read
the transcript. The moment I saw the message, I wished I hadn’t looked.

  I warned you, but you just don’t get it, do you? Now you’re going to pay, and the fun part is you’ll never see it coming.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jaxson

  “What’s this?” I asked as Greta walked over to my desk and eyed a place to put a thick folder.

  “Something about a blogger?” Greta set the bulky pile of information on my desk and rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand that whole blogging thing, but your brother wanted me to bring you the folder. Said it was urgent.”

  Confused why Devin would send me information about a blog or blogger, I glanced up at Greta waiting for more of an explanation…unless it was about Elena.

  My pulse accelerated.

  “Did he say anything else?” I asked, glancing at my watch. I was supposed to meet Elena in an hour for dinner.

  “Not a word other than that he thought you’d find the info useful and interesting.”

  “Is my brother still here?”

  She nodded.

  “Then why didn’t he bring it in himself?”

  “Beats me.” She was never one to ask questions or get involved in our family business.

  My hand hovered over the red folder as if the mere act of touching it would singe me. I let out a sigh and hoped there was nothing in these pages I wouldn’t like.

  “You know, I just don’t get blogging. It’s so confusing,” Greta said.

  Since I’d dropped off Elena and her sister at her apartment, I couldn’t get her out of my head. She was coy, smart-mouthed, and absolutely beautiful.

  A deadly combination.

  But a blogger?

  What kind of blogger? She’d mentioned freelancing and within that, providing blog posts, but I didn’t expect her to be a blogger. What was she blogging about?

  “Which part, in particular?” I asked, bringing the folder closer and eyeing Greta.

  “Is it people’s opinions or is it news?” She leaned against my desk and took in the city view. I could tell she didn’t actually care one way or another, but I thought I’d answer the question regardless.

  “It depends. There are bloggers who follow news and offer commentary. Others build a platform around any topic imaginable, and then they slowly gain followers. The amount of useful information you can find online because of blogging is amazing. Whether it’s product reviews, cooking, or building boats—you name it—but there’s also a dark side to blogging when topics that should never be discussed are, and the bloggers gain a creepy following.”

  “Sounds like too much trouble to me.” She folded her arms and her eyes twinkled. “What’s the sudden interest in blogging? Don’t you already have your hands full?”

  “I do.” I opened the folder, and my eyes slid along the first page. “But I’m not planning on blogging anytime soon.”

  “I’ll let you be,” Greta said, patting the desk. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  I gave a quick nod, unable to take my eyes off the printouts.

  Elena Egorov had a huge following as a true crime blogger.

  My chest tightened as I tried to wrap my head around what I was seeing. What did she want with me, or had she been lying the entire time, truly only after the councilman’s story?

  In the few short seconds I realized she was a blogger, I imagined a DIY-er or just about anything other than what I was looking at.

  She didn’t go by Elena Egorov on the blog, which was why I never brought anything up when I Googled her. She went by Elena Torrence, and she had a huge following with weekly posts.

  She’d covered some of the most notorious crimes of the last decade. I flipped through the printouts, seeing interviews with victims, authorities, and the criminals themselves.

  The crimes she described offered terrifying and horror-filled posts. It was hard to reconcile that the woman I’d met would want to surround herself with this kind of reality, this kind of gruesome insight.

  My fists balled as I ran down her most recent post about a string of kidnappings in Virginia. What was her connection to this kind of investigating? How could she enjoy this?

  I shut the folder and turned in my chair to look outside.

  Wolf Industries had afforded me more luxury than I knew what to do with.

  I enjoyed what I did in the day and tolerated what I had to do in the shadows of night, but I certainly wouldn’t want to reminisce about what I’d done to keep the city streets moving.

  I leaned back and stared at the closed folder on my desk.

  This was an unexpected revelation, and I needed to find out why she, of all people, had a sudden interest in me. I tapped on my keyboard and brought up her blog. The most recent post was yesterday.

  My heart sank, but what surprised me more was that I had one. I didn’t expect to be this torn up over what I was seeing.

  The entire post was about Missy and the seeming lack of apparent connection to the other murders in the city. I wanted to be angry, but I was more curious.

  I was scrolling through the last of the text when Devin came into my office.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked. “Expect that kind of writer?”

  “Not really. I assumed she might be thinking of touching on this story in the future since it was somewhat high-profile, but…” I just shook my head.

  “It explains why I didn’t see anything about her writing when I used her given name. I should have thought to ask her for her pen name.”

  “She probably wouldn’t have given it to you.” He took a seat in front of my desk.

  “I’m having dinner with her tonight.”

  “I know. That’s why I asked Joel to expedite my request.” He glanced over my shoulder and out the window before bringing his gaze to mine. “Are you going to bring it up?”

  Joel was one of our best IT guys. At least that was the title payroll gave him. The guy could break any system, crack any code, and find any kernel of truth out on the web.

  “I don’t know.” I tapped my finger on the desk and let out a groan.

  “Do you think she’s been using you to get inside information about Harner?” my brother always went straight to the heart of the matter, which I usually appreciated.

  But not this time.

  “Maybe.” I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. “I doubt it. How would she know I was going to be at that bar the first night I met her and that I’d planned on going to Harner’s after? She wouldn’t have known. I still believe this is a coincidence.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Silence hung in the air for a few seconds. “But what if you’re not? What if it’s more than that and has nothing to do with Harner at all?”

  “What if? What are you getting at?”

  I turned off my laptop. I had a dinner to get to.

  “What if you’ve been the target all along?”

  “Now you’re sounding paranoid, possibly delusional.”

  He shrugged and stood. Buttoning his suit jacket, he walked over to the wall of windows behind me and looked below.

  “We certainly have a way of choosing women, don’t we?” He laughed and turned around.

  I had to agree.

  “Between an ex-policewoman, a criminal psychiatrist, and the sister of one of the top security firms in the world…yeah. I’d say we have a real knack for choosing women.”

  He managed a tight nod and glanced at the city view.

  “Or them choosing us.” He grinned and wiggled his brows.

  “I can’t imagine any woman in her right mind wanting to get involved with this family.”

  “We’re helping the city too. You, of all people, know that. Don’t let this woman get under your skin.”

  “I never would.”

  “So like I asked before. Are you going to bring up the blog to her?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll read the situation when I get there.”

  Devin pressed his lips together and
grabbed a paper clip off my desk. “I didn’t mean to burst your bubble. I know you haven’t been into anyone since your divorce. Something just struck me as odd about her that night, and I wanted to investigate it a little more. I honestly didn’t expect to dig this up, and maybe the information is useless.”

  “Maybe.” I stood and stretched, trying to shake away the overwhelming amount of disappointment stretching through my bones. I always knew when I was being played, and never had I sensed it with her. “I bet Harner’s people know who she is. That’s probably why they paid such a quick visit to her house.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me. Politicians always have rats to sniff out other rats.”

  “That they do.” I walked around the desk and smacked my brother on the shoulder. “Thanks for keeping my head on straight.”

  “You’ve done it for me more times than I care to admit.”

  We walked out to the lobby. Greta had already left for the evening, and the lights had all been turned off.

  “Go enjoy your dinner, and maybe just sleep with her to get it out of your system before you break it off.” Devin flashed a cocky grin as we waited for the elevators. “You don’t want to be left wondering what it might have been like.”

  Hearing Devin talk about Elena that way made my skin crawl. Even if she had betrayed me and everything had been an act up till now, I would still stand by my word.

  Unless she says something to me tonight to change that.

  Then maybe I’d see where the night leads us.

  An elevator door opened and I followed Devin inside.

  “You’ve lost your mojo with her,” Devin said softly.

  “How do you figure?”

  “You don’t have any intention of spending the night with her.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  The door opened on the first floor of the building and we walked out past security.

  “Regardless of what she does as a living, I have no intention of hurting her.”

  “Even is she’s just using you?”

  “Even then.” I scratched my chin. “Especially then.”

  The crisp outside air woke up my senses and sprinkled some sense back into me. I spotted my car in the loading zone with Viktor patiently waiting.