INVESTED (Dunning Trilogy Book 1)

by Iris Bolling

  Myles sat forward to take in what was happening on the monitor.

  "Who are the men in the SUV?" he asked as the scene with his uncle unfolded.

  "His name is Sergi Koslov. He is the enforcer for Stephan Pavel."

  "I don't know the mane," Myles stated.

  "You would have no reason to, until now."

  Myles raised an eyebrow. "Who is he?"

  "Let me fast forward to when your uncle leaves the vehicle." Jerome did what he indicated.

  Myles sat up. "Is that blood?"

  "It is."

  Myles looked at Jerome then back at the screen. "What happened? Is Walker all right?"

  Jerome turned off the monitor. "I don't give a damn about Walker's well-being at this moment. He brought the Russian Mafia to your parents' home. I am very uncomfortable with that. When I get uncomfortable people die."

  "The Russian Mafia?" a stunned Myles questioned. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

  "Stephan Pavel and his family are the branch of the Russian mafia located here in Virginia. They are into prostitution, guns, and gambling. It seems Walker is indebted to them. How deep my sources do not know. They are still working on gathering that information. There were three people in the vehicle with Walker. I have been able to identify Koslov because we had a clear view of him. The other two men never stepped out of the vehicle. However." He clicked a button on the remote. "We were able to get a partial on this man. Stephan Pavel. I can only guess that Walker is in deep to qualify for a personal visit from Pavel. Or it could be that Walker has access to something that Pavel wants."

  "Such as?"

  "We'll get to that. Did it ever occur to you to have an autopsy performed on your father?"

  Myles' head snapped around to look at Jerome. "Should it have?"

  Jerome shrugged. "There were things, small incidents that concerned me at the time of Mr. Dunning's death."

  "Such as?" The man now had Myles' undivided attention.

  "For one, your father was healthy as a pure-bred horse. He worked out daily. Of course he ate pretty much what he wanted to. However I was with him during his last physical. There was nothing abnormal." He took a swig of his beer. "If it was my father I would have a conversation with his physician. If he gave him a clean bill of health, and in light of the people Walker is involved with, I'd want to know what sent my father to his grave."

  Jerome sat back staring poignantly at Myles.

  Myles held the man's glare. "You are insinuating that someone may have contributed to his death."

  "I could be completely off base with this, Myles."

  "You don't think that you are. You would not have mentioned it otherwise. Do you think Walker had something to do with my father's death?"

  "That would be a yes. It may be inadvertent on his part. However, people may want him to have control of the bank or possibly control of the family. What better way than to eliminate the head of both."

  The vein in Myles' neck was throbbing.

  "I want to be clear here, Jerome. You believe it is possible my father did not die of natural causes?" Myles leaned forward.

  Jerome nodded. "There is something else I need you to consider. You are now the head of the family and the bank; in my estimation that now makes you and anyone close to you a target."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Vivian sat in the room with her husband and three children as they shared movie night. Her mind wasn't on the family drama on the projector screen. You see there were rules in their house. No one in the family missed Sunday dinner, movie night, or game night in their household without cause. It was their way of having family time together. In all honesty she was present, but her mind was actually 15 miles away at her brother Walker's house.

  There were two things that she knew for a fact. First, there was no way she was going to allow Russian thugs into her family's bank. Second, Walker was going to go away for a long time, either to prison or rehab, and at the moment she did not care which.

  "Are you okay?" her husband Ken asked as he put his arms around her shoulders.

  "No." She snuggled up to him in the seat. "I was just thinking about Winnie. Her and Hep will never have moments like this again." She told the white lie to cover her true concern.

  Ken kissed her cheek, then pulled her a little closer. "I know. Why don't you give her a call?"

  Vivian looked up at him with eagerness in her eyes. "Really? You don't mind?"

  "Well, I will miss the warmth of my wife in my arms. But you go ahead, give her a call. I will consider this with cause."

  She smiled up at the love of her life then snuggled a little closer. "I'll call her later when the movie is over."

  An hour later Vivian picked up the phone, uncertain what she would do. Should she help Walker get the position and save his miserable life or tell Winnie the truth and let Grace deal with the problem?

  "Winnie, hi, this is Vivian. Did I catch you at bad time?"

  "No. I was doing some reading. How are you, Viv?"

  "I miss him," Vivian declared. "Miss his calm presence. His wit. Hep was always doing something to get under Walker's skin to keep us laughing." She hesitated. "How are you?"

  "Ha," Winnie sniffed. "A shell of a woman right now. But don't you dare tell my children I said that."

  Vivian smiled. "Your secret is safe with me. You know I'm only a phone call away any time you want to talk."

  "I know. Thank you, Viv. I'll take you up on that one day. But right now I don't want to burden anyone with my sadness."

  "Please do, Winnie. I have strong shoulders. I miss him too and sometimes I just want to talk about him." She hesitated. "Winnie, I understand you had a visit from Walker this morning."

  "Hmmm," she laughed. "Yes, I did."

  "He said he spoke with you about a job."

  "No, he asked me to return the controlling shares of the bank back to him. He feels they were stolen by Hep. In fact he stated I was wrong for not turning them over to him when Hep died."

  "Are you kidding me?" Vivian sighed.

  "I'm afraid not. In fact he threatened my children when I told him I gave all my shares to Myles."

  "He did not," Vivian said as she sat in her private sitting room. Walker was more desperate than she originally thought. He had done so many crazy things in the past it's hard to believe what he told her today.

  "Winnie, Walker is in trouble. Will you have lunch with me tomorrow and let me tell you what I know?"

  "I can do that," Winnie agreed.

  Vivian exhaled. "Thank you, Winnie. I think it’s time we get Walker in line."

  After disconnecting the call, Vivian dialed the number to her closest ally. That person, who asked no questions, just did whatever she could to help.

  "Grace, where are you?" The music could be heard through the phone.

  "Aunt Vivian?"

  "Yes."

  "Hold on. Let me step outside."

  Vivian heard movement on the other end of the line. Then she heard a door close. The loud background music stopped.

  "Aunt Viv, are you still there?"

  "Yes, I'm here. Where are you?"

  "I'm in DC doing some things for the bank.”

  “I thought you were in New York.”

  “Yes, I was earlier today. Do you need something? Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine, Grace. Don't worry about me."

  "I try not to, but I worry about all of you. I can't help it."

  "There is something. I need you to check on a person by the name of Stephan Pavel. He is the owner of a real estate company called Pavel and Sons."

  "Is he the father or the son?"

  "I don't know. However, before I get involved with these people I would like to know who I'm dealing with."

  "Okay. Do you want to know about him or the company?"

  "Both. I need to know about any illegal connections he has."

  "Okay…" There was some hesitation. "I'll find out what I can and get back with you in the mor
ning."

  "Thank you, Grace." Vivian smiled then disconnected the call. She was going to sleep well knowing she would have some answers in the morning before she met with Winnie. At this point she had no idea if Walker was pulling a fast one or was seriously in trouble.

  #

  Grace hung up the phone with her gut telling her something wasn't right. Aunt Vivian rarely called her when she was away working. They had a loving relationship and tended to talk about anything and everything. She was the aunt who let her try on make up at 14, which her mother had forbid. The aunt who covered for her whenever she went somewhere her parents told her not to go. Vivian was the one who broke down all the barriers about sex to her. Yes, she was the one who told her not to be afraid of her own sexuality and life had never been the same. So when this aunt calls and Grace hears concern in her voice she pays attention. Grace looked at the name she put in her phone and knew what she had to do. She walked back into the club, said good night and goodbye to the man she had just hit on then walked out the front door. Twenty minutes later she was knocking on the door of another man.

  "Roark, open the door. I know you are in there and you better not have another woman in there with you." She banged on the door trying to contain her laughter. "Roark," she yelled and was about to say more when the door flung open.

  "Grace...are you crazy?"

  She started past the half-dressed man standing in the doorway then walked straight back to the closed bedroom door.

  "Grace, don't..."

  It was too late. She had kicked the bedroom door in, then turned to him and yelled, "Who in the hell is this?"

  The half-dressed woman jumped out of bed and began picking up her discarded clothes. "I think a better question should be who are you?" the woman yelled back.

  "Who am I?" Grace yelled. "You are in here with my husband and you want to know who I am?" She turned to the man. "Really, Roark?"

  "Husband?" the woman and FBI Special Agent Byron Roark asked at the same time.

  Grace turned on him. "You conveniently forgot you have a wife and children at home?" Then she turned on the woman who was trying desperately to put her clothes on. "And you. Did it matter at all that he was married with three children?"

  "Children?" The woman stopped buttoning her blouse then quickly put on her shoes. "I had no idea."

  "You expect me to believe that?" Grace charged at the woman who wasn't moving fast enough for her liking. "How long has this been going on?" She looked between Byron and the woman.

  "Look." He stood between the two women. "It may be best for you to leave. I will handle this."

  "You are going to handle me, Roark, really?" Grace railed on as the woman rushed into the living room with Roark in tow. "You're going to handle me? This I have got to see."

  "I will call you," Byron said to the woman as she ran by him.

  "Don't bother," she screamed back as the door slammed behind her.

  Grace walked into the living room, then took a seat at the breakfast bar that separated the living room and kitchen. "I've never seen that one before. Is she new?"

  Byron knew not to say anything. He had seen this side of Grace before. Until she got what she wanted, which seemed to be his attention, this tirade was going to continue. He leaned against the wall that led to the kitchen in nothing but a robe staring at the crazy woman whom he called a friend. He had no idea why he put up with her other than the fact that she was the one woman who seemed to be immune to his charm. "Why are you here?"

  "I need you to check something out for me." She jumped up and walked over to the refrigerator. "Do you want a beer?"

  Byron shook his head. "Sure, let me get dressed." He walked into the bedroom. "How is your family doing?"

  "We are all dealing with things. Myles was named CEO of the bank. That's why I'm here in DC. He has some things he wanted me to check out."

  "How have you been?"

  "Okay," Grace admitted as she pulled two beers out then sat back down. "So, who was she?" she asked loud enough for him to hear her in the bedroom.

  "Just someone I met at a bar."

  "And you brought her to your home? Isn't that one thing you told me to never do?"

  "You are a female," he replied as he walked out of the bedroom in sweats, pulling a tee shirt over his head. "I am a highly trained killing machine." He kissed her on the cheek, then picked up his beer.

  "What is so important that you had to pull the angry wife act?"

  Grace smiled. "I like doing that one to you."

  "Yes, well, the next time you will replace whoever you chase from my bed."

  "That's not going to happen," she argued as she crossed her legs.

  "Why do you treat me so bad? Am I that unappealing to you?"

  "No, and you know you are too good looking for your own good." She shrugged. "You're my friend and I want to keep you."

  "Sleeping with me is a sure way to accomplish that." He slumped onto the sofa next to her.

  "No, then I'd have to discard you."

  "Did you discard Michael?"

  Grace sent him a warning look. "You know how I feel about Jonathan. So don't go there." She saw the hurt look on his face. "Oh, Byron." She punched him. "Let's not have the same fight again. Jonathan....well, he's that one for me."

  "Yeah, well, where is he? He went back to London to work for your competitor."

  "Hell, you would have too with the offer they made him."

  Byron didn't say anything for a moment, then conceded, "You have a point there." They both laughed. "He's got to be one of the richest of our classmates to date, excluding you."

  "Oh, I don't know about that. But he is doing well."

  Byron exhaled. "Well, I certainly don't want to spend my time with you talking about the man who stole your heart from me." He sat up. "What do you need?"

  "I need you to do a search on a name for me. And if he has any illegal ties I should know about."

  "What's his name?"

  Grace clicked on her phone as Byron opened his laptop that was on the table.

  "Stephan Pavel. He owns a real estate business, I'm told."

  Byron logged into the FBI database, then keyed in the name. "Let's see what we have."

  The silence that followed made Grace uneasy. "What's wrong?" she asked seeing the expression on his face.

  "Grace, where did you get this name?"

  "My Aunt Vivian."

  He stood to get his office cell phone and dialed a number. "Pete, it's Roark. Log onto the system for me and key in this name, Stephan Pavel." He listened to his partner as he keyed in the name and began sharing the information. Finally, he nodded. "I'll see you in fifteen minutes."

  He disconnected the call, then turned back to Grace.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "Why are you searching the name of a member of the Russian Mafia?"

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  "You're late."

  "Yes, well I wasn't sure...I mean, I didn't know if or how....."

  "Are you confused about last night?"

  "Yes," she sighed out loud. "Aren't you?" She dropped her bag with her clothes for work to the floor then walked towards him. "Don't get it twisted, it was a hell of a night. I just don't know how to act around you now. I mean, you are my boss. We work together and as much as I enjoyed last night, we...us is new. You know what I mean?"

  Myles smiled as he looked down at her. It was amazing how youthful she looked with her hair in a ponytail rather than that French roll and no makeup on her face. Had he missed that too? Wait, how old was she? He remembered when they first met he made a mental note to keep his distance because she was nineteen at the time, he was twenty-five. She was an intern working in his department. He felt it was inappropriate to think of her in a sexual way. It probably still was, however age wasn't an issue at this point. She should be twenty-eight now.

  "Myles?" Chrystina called out.

  Clearing his mind, he stared at her, not sure what she had just said. "Do y
ou know you are short?"

  Chrystina raised one eyebrow. "Excuse you?"

  He laughed. "You are short."

  She looked to the side then back at him. "Yes, well, I don't have my heels on. I have on sneakers, which I just bought, along with the clothes this morning so I could workout with you."

  "You did that for me?"

  She gave him a slow once over. "I did it for me. You just happen to be a bonus."

  They stood there staring at each other for a long moment.

  "Why don't you put your clothes in the locker room. When you come back let’s take a run on the treadmill. We can analyze while we run."

  Chrystina took a step back. "All right, I can do that." She picked up her bag then looked around. "Umm...where is the locker room?"

  Myles frowned. "You don't know your way around?"

  "No."

  "You've never been up here?"

  With her bag in one hand, the other went to her hip. "Myles, look around." He did. "Now look at me. Does it look like I been on any of this equipment?"

  Myles laughed then walked towards her. "It sure felt like it last night." He grabbed her ponytail. "Follow me, short stuff. Allow me to show you around."

  Ten minutes later they were on the treadmills on the balcony of the gym.

  "I had no idea all of this was up here," Chrystina said as she looked around. "I love the view of the skyline."

  On the balcony of the gym were a row of bikes, treadmills, and elliptical machines. There were also weight benches and two battle rope stations, literally a mini version of the indoor equipment with the exception of the circuit machines.

  "My dad liked working out on the inside with the air conditioning. I like the natural elements when I work out."

  "I have a feeling natural elements is going to sweat my hair out."

  "A little sweat never hurt anyone." Myles pushed a few buttons on one of the treadmills. "Here, I'll set this one to no incline and the speed to gradually increase every 2 minutes for 20 minutes. That’s very low impact so we can talk as we walk."

  "Low impact?" She sent him a questioning gaze before stepping onto the machine.