by Linda Ladd
“Poor Paulie never had a chance after Blythe ran off with him. He was a marked man from that moment on. I tried to persuade my father to forbid Ivan to take revenge. I even traveled to Moscow to plead Blythe’s case. But it didn’t do much good. He wouldn’t order Ivan to leave them be, and Ivan felt personally insulted by her rejection.” She stopped, and shook her head. “Father did give Blythe permission to divorce Ivan, though, after I told him that I’d seen him slap her when he was drunk. My father cannot condone that kind of thing. He believes that a woman should be placed on a pedestal, especially one’s wife. Despite all of that, Ivan still loves Blythe dearly. Still resents her divorcing him. Blythe was always his prize possession, as if she were some rare piece of art that he coveted and cherished and could finally own.”
“So you think Ivan Petrov did kill Paulie Parker?”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised. How did he die?”
Claire hesitated and then said, “He was beaten to death.”
Anna heaved in another deep inhalation and placed her gaze down on her lap. She didn’t shed tears, but she looked very lonely sitting there, her hands clasped tightly together. Claire glanced back at Black, who still said nothing. This was her show, and Black was only there for moral support, as he liked to say when he was helping her on her cases. Which wasn’t true at all, of course. Black just loved to jump right in the middle of her homicide investigations whenever she would let him, and with both feet, too. Hell, he ought to give up making money hand over fist and become a cop.
“Was Ivan gone for any length of time during the last three days?”
“No. In fact, he has been at home most of the time for the last two weeks. One of his little sons has been sick with the flu. But he has loyal lieutenants to do his killing for him. He doesn’t dirty his own hands anymore. He had his apprenticeship down at that level in Russia, but he runs the show here. If he sanctioned the hit, he assigned it to his favorite hit men. If Paulie was beaten, it might have been Ivan’s fighters who did it. Ike or Mike, either one, or both together. They’re brutal, evil, disgusting excuses for human beings. I can’t abide being in their presence, not even for one minute. I get up and leave the room if they walk in. But he loves them, almost as much as he loves his own sons. You do know, don’t you, that Ivan got full custody of his and Blythe’s two children. He did it mainly to punish Blythe for walking out on him, which you already know, I suspect. I help him take care of them, and he does adore them, but those two boys have a terrible future in store for them. At present, however, he’s really into this cage fighting thing. He built a boxing ring in the compound. Since Blythe divorced him, that’s all he thinks about anymore. He’s obsessed with it.”
“As I understand it, both Sharpe twins fought in Kansas City and then at Lake of the Ozarks. Did they return home after that?”
“No, they didn’t. And they didn’t send word back, either. Ivan was furious about it and sent some guys out to find them.”
That info perked up Claire considerably. “Does that happen often? The two of them going out on their own like that without Ivan knowing where they are?”
Anna smiled. “No one dares to cross Ivan. He rules with an ironclad fist. He gets off on it. Power. He’s all about power. If he had specifically ordered them to be back at the compound at a certain time, they would have been there or suffered dire consequences. Apparently, he didn’t expressly command them to get back quickly and was only annoyed they showed up later than he would have preferred. They said that they were out looking for Shorty Dunlop to dish out some payback. Apparently, Dunlop embarrassed one of them in the ring and they couldn’t stand the humiliation.”
“Did they say they found him?”
“No. They insinuated that they couldn’t find him, but they are both liars. They could have found him and killed him. It wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Okay. Do any of your cousin’s fighters have criminal records?”
Anna actually laughed at her question. “Of course. Everybody I know has a criminal record.” She looked over at Black. “Except maybe for Nicky.”
“Have you heard any talk about killing Paulie Parker lately? Anything that might incriminate Ivan Petrov?”
“No, but they probably wouldn’t discuss that in front of me. But I have the run of the compound. Ivan loves me, believe it or not. He wouldn’t ever dare hurt me, or my father would have him killed. But I listen. I like to know what’s going on behind the scenes, in case my father should ever ask me, and I’m allowed to ask Ivan questions about his business. I didn’t hear any talk of a contract hit or cars leaving in the middle of the night, late night phone calls, guns being taken out of the weapons room, nothing like that. I had thought that Ivan had pretty much given up after the last time they tried to get Paulie. I guess you know that Paulie used to be one of Ivan’s fighters, before he took off with Blythe. That’s how they met. Right there in the compound under Ivan’s nose. Did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t. We just started this investigation.”
“I think Ivan secretly respected Paulie for continuing to fight professionally even when there was a hit out on him. Begrudgingly, for sure. Ivan always liked Paulie the best of all the fighters, even after the divorce when Blythe and Paulie got married. That’s probably because Paulie usually beat up Ivan’s top guys when they met inside the cage. Lately, he had seemed to lay off his obsession with killing Paulie, didn’t talk about it much. Maybe he had gotten over Blythe and was thinking he could get Paulie to fight for him again. I don’t know. It’s hard to figure how Ivan’s mind works. He’s not right in the head anymore—maybe it is brain damage, maybe he was just born evil or learned it from my father. I keep thinking he’ll mellow with age. Father has, to some extent, but it’s not happening with Ivan. Not that I can see.”
“When was the last time they went after Parker?”
“Last year, in October. They tried to force Blythe to come back home, even after the divorce was granted, because that’s what Ivan really wants. He wants her back inside this compound with the rest of the family, but she ran off both Sharpes with a couple of shotgun blasts. Wounded one of them.” She smiled, as if proud of the other woman’s gumption. “I do love that girl. She’s got more courage than I do. I tried to teach her how to adapt inside Ivan’s world, but she hated it there. She said it felt like prison, and of course, it does feel that way, at least to the women living in there. Then she met Paulie, and the die was cast. I helped her escape with him. Ivan doesn’t know that, of course.”
“So Parker wasn’t really part of the Petrov organization?”
“He was their winning fighter, but he wasn’t one of Ivan’s capos, nothing like that. Then after he met Blythe a few times, it was all over. Ivan had groomed him from his teenage years. He heard about him somewhere and recruited him to come to St. Louis and fight for him. I believe he was more upset at first about Paulie betraying him than about him stealing his wife. But that didn’t last long. Ivan truly loves Blythe. He misses her like crazy. Still, to this day. Paulie made the family a lot of money back then, too. Mostly from Ivan’s illegal betting on his fights, and such. Paulie’s originally from over your way, you know.”
“I know. Is there anything else that you can tell us that might help us find Parker’s killer?”
“Actually, it’s been relatively quiet at the compound of late.”
“I may have to interview Ivan personally. Black doesn’t think that’s a good idea. What do you think?”
“I think he would be extremely polite, but only because of Nicky’s . . . connections.”
“Will he cooperate with me?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Okay.” Jeez again. Ivan sounded like a real monster, made her sorta want to meet him, just to look upon the face of evil. “Will you let us know if you hear anything pertinent to this case, Anna?”
“Of course. I can request an appointment with Nicky at any time. Ivan always agrees to that. He’s afrai
d not to. My father dotes on me, and I suppose that’s lucky for me, considering Ivan’s temper.”
Claire closed her notepad, and they chatted some more about the snowy weather and Claire’s engagement ring, of course, and various and sundry other inane subjects. Anna seemed very fond of Black and almost as interested as Black was in their upcoming wedding, despite the lack of matrimonial details thus far. But after a few minutes, Anna turned to Black, her voice growing more eager. “Are they coming this time?”
“Yes, they are. They’re late, in fact.”
“Is Joey well?”
“Booker says he’s doing fine, growing like a weed.”
“And he is safe and happy?”
“Yes, but you can see that for yourself. There they are now.”
Claire and Anna both turned to look through the observation window. John Booker was standing inside the room, dressed in tan Dockers and a black pullover sweater. He was with a pretty blonde, who was holding the hand of a sturdy little boy who looked a whole hell of a lot like Anna Kafelnikov, down to the black hair and blue eyes. Anna jumped up, smiled eagerly, and headed out of the room through the back door.
“This is the only time she ever gets to see her son,” Black told Claire.
“At least she gets to see him,” Claire said, but the words pretty much stuck in her throat.
Black reached over and put his hand on top of hers. He knew she was thinking about Zach. He always seemed to sense her suffering. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She tried to change the subject. She had to. “So Booker actually has a wife and son, a real family, and everything, huh? I was beginning to think he just materialized out of the woods all dressed in camouflage whenever you blew a dog whistle.”
Black laughed and shook his head. “No, we usually just use our cellphones. The camo’s pretty much on target, though. He likes to wear it most days. What can I say?”
Inside the next room, Anna appeared in the doorway. The little boy, Anna’s biological child, saw her first and ran to her for a hug and kiss, and she sat down with him beside her, smiling and brushing a lock of dark hair off his forehead. Claire turned around and stared out the window at the people on the sidewalks far below. God, what she wouldn’t give to cuddle her little baby, Zach, in her lap, hug him close to her like that, just one more time, or rock him to sleep or brush back his blond curls, or kiss his soft little cheek. But it was never going to happen, never, ever, and she knew it. He was dead and buried in the ground far away, and inside her heart, too. She didn’t turn around again. She didn’t watch the happy woman enjoy her beautiful child. She just stared out at the falling snow and was glad Black knew enough to let her deal with her most painful memories in her own way, thank God. She didn’t turn around again until Booker and his wife entered the office behind her.
Within minutes, Claire knew that if anybody could tame a man as tough and independent as John Booker, it had to be Kate Booker. On first take, she appeared very pretty, very petite, very friendly, and very happy. Booker obviously adored her, which Claire found rather amusing. Touching even. So the mighty John Booker, as hard and intimidating as he appeared, had an Achilles heel. He looked at his wife in a way that left no question about his devotion. Black quickly introduced Kate and Claire, and then he and Booker huddled in the corner like two teenage girls, no doubt planning their next covert Psy-Ops mission.
Kate sat down beside Claire on the small tan-and-red plaid sofa. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Morgan. I never thought Nick would settle down, but I guess you accomplished the impossible.”
But she was smiling, so Claire smiled back. “Yeah, he’s a regular homebody now.”
Kate smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. He is known for his jet setting.”
They smiled at each other again. Kate glanced into the next room, where Anna was helping Joey build a rather intricate airplane out of Legos. “I guess you know the backstory on all of this, right?”
“Not until yesterday. It sounds like you went through quite an ordeal.”
“Yeah, it was pretty bad. But that’s when I met John, so it was worth every terrifying moment. And it turned out well, thank God. Joey’s our little blessed angel. We’re so lucky to have him in our lives, safe now and secure. But poor Anna. She was so determined that he wouldn’t grow up in the Kafelnikov family or in that awful criminal compound where she has to live.”
“Does she get to see him often?”
“No, just once in a while, right here in Nick’s office. But he loves her like his favorite aunt. And we’re glad to let her get to know him. We owe her so much. She saved our lives when she denied to Vince that Joey was her son. Talk about a scary guy. She was forced to marry him, and she absolutely hated him. It was an attempt by her father to consolidate crime family loyalties, but it was nothing but hell on earth for her.”
“You know, I didn’t even know Booker was married until recently.”
“Yeah, we both keep our private life private. If Ivan ever finds out what Anna did, he’ll kill all of us.”
“That’s what Black said would happen. But would he really?”
“Yes, I believe he would.” She stopped a moment. “The men they sent after me? They were some really bad guys. There was this one named Dmitri. He almost got Joey and me out there in the woods, and would’ve, too, if John hadn’t saved my life. Truth, though? John scared the heck out of me, too, when I first saw him. He looked like a bearded mountain man, or a Sasquatch, maybe, or something utterly wild, but then I saw what he was under that tough façade. He is the kindest, gentlest man I know.”
Kind and gentle? Booker? “Do you think they’re still after you? After all this time?”
“Oh, yeah. We’re very careful. Thank God that Nick gave John this job. I run a little bait shop and inner tube and canoe float business down on Current River, but it’s not enough, especially in the winter. Nick pays John well—very well, I have to say—and it’s made a huge difference for us. When John goes out on a call, he takes us with him most of the time, just to be on the safe side. We stay at a motel and enjoy the pool and room service while he’s working. Nick pays for that, too, God bless him. Dmitri and his men attacked me the first time inside my own kitchen, and John’s always afraid they’ll find out about Joey and come down to the river after me again. I don’t worry about that much anymore, but now I know how to handle weapons. John taught me well. We’ve got the whole place wired for security.”
“Sounds like my place,” Claire told her.
“Yeah, I’ve heard all about you. John speaks so highly of you. Says you are one heck of a detective and gutsy as hell, as he puts it. And he doesn’t give out that kind of praise to just anybody.”
“Really? He says that? Well, he’s not a bad investigator himself.”
“No, he’s not. Not at all. He’s very good.”
Claire felt completely at ease with Kate Booker, more so than she had with Anna. Kate was just a regular person like Claire was. Kate had come through some hard times but survived. Claire could relate. She was pretty sure they could become friends. “Tell me, Kate, do you have any cage fighting gyms down your way?”
“Not in Van Buren, but I think there’s one in Poplar Bluff. Are you investigating a fighter?”
“Yeah. We found a body at the lake. I’m learning a lot about this cage thing going on now. Can’t say I’m too impressed with it, though.”
“I hate fighting and boxing. As far as that goes, I hate pro wrestling, too.”
“Same here. Pretty brutal to have to watch.”
“I’m glad I don’t have to.”
Claire nodded, but now she’d had enough idle chit chat. She was getting antsy to get back home and nail down who had killed Paulie Parker and why. She just hoped they didn’t get snowed in. She was just raring to call Joe McKay and then pay some official visits to all the kids who got off punching each other in the face and see what kind of home life encouraged that kind of aggressive, mindless, and bloodthirsty b
ehavior. She had a gut feeling that she wasn’t going to like it very much but so what.
She didn’t like a lot of things very much.
Blood Brothers
For the longest time, all Punk did was play with Banjo and win his bouts on Saturday night at the new fight place just down the road, but all he thought about was meeting up with his girl out in the apple orchard. He made sure that he prevailed in his fights because he wanted Pa to let him run free and not put him to work cleaning out the dog pens or hoeing the garden or cooking the meals. The losers had to do all the chores so it was in his best interest to win. So he went after his opponents long and hard as if they were wild and vicious animals and didn’t stop until he beat them totally unconscious.
Sometimes Bones helped him when he needed it, but he usually didn’t need it anymore. He tried to stay away from Bones as much as possible. Bones was doing his own thing, anyway, and Punk had seen blood on Bones’s shirt and hands more than once when Bones came in from the woods that lined the blacktop road. Punk was afraid to ask what Bones had done to get so much blood all over him, so he just didn’t ask. He didn’t tell on him, either, because the truth was, Bones had always been his best friend and he’d always been there for him and he always would be. But people in town seemed to go missing now and again, and Punk knew it was Bones’s way of keeping busy. He didn’t know where he was burying the bodies, probably out in that mine shaft by the river, but he didn’t even want to know for sure. He wanted no part of any of that.
Therefore, everything went along pretty well, nice and smooth, actually, until one day when one of his older brothers saw him walking with the girl over on her family’s land. When he got home that day from his usual make-out session with her, his pa was waiting, holding his old bloodstained whip that he used to punish his boys. Punk was surprised. Pa usually acted a little afraid of him and Bones, but this time Bones wasn’t around and Pa had been drinking too much whiskey again.