I took a seat by myself toward the end of the hall and pulled out my phone. The screen showed a missed call from Hank. I clicked the prompt to call him back, and he picked up right away.
“Kane?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s me. What’s up?”
“What’s the situation?” he asked.
I gave him the shortest version possible.
“Well, it looks like we have some of the pieces coming together,” Hank said. “I got in touch with Faust late last night. He said he was working on the identities of these guys and talking with some people at Coleman, so I figured I’d let him have that while I looked into a few other things—mainly how someone could have been tracking you through your cell phone.”
“What did you find?”
“Well, I talked with Terry on it. He says that either it would have to be done physically or through some kind of an attachment.”
“I’m doubting physically. My phone rarely leaves my pocket unless I’m on it,” I said.
“That leaves us with some kind of an attachment then. Did you open anything? Maybe get a text or email from someone you didn’t know?”
“Not that I know of. I’m pretty good with watching out for that stuff.”
“Okay, either way, Rick says he can find out where it came from as soon as he gets the phone in his hand. I just figured I’d see if you remembered anything off the top of your head.”
“Yeah, nothing. I’ll have to let him take a look when I get back. There is something that you can dig into if you have the time, though,” I said.
“Shoot.”
“See if you can find anything on a Yury that comes back to the Azarovs. Maybe check with Waterman too and see if a Yury flew to Milwaukee recently. The name could be a fake, but it’s worth a shot.”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll get on it. Glad you guys are all okay, Kane.”
“Thanks, Hank. Call me if you hear anything.”
“Will do.”
I hung up and then dialed Faust.
He answered right away. “Faust.”
“Hey, it’s Kane. I’m doing my morning round of phone calls here. Any news?”
“I tried calling you a couple times late last night. I didn’t leave any messages in case your phone ended up in the wrong hands.”
“You mean in case I was dead and someone had my phone.”
He didn’t respond.
“I was at the police station for a bit. I had my phone off,” I said.
“Okay, well, I just got confirmation on this now, anyway.”
“Confirmation of what?”
“Viktor Azarov is dead.”
My head snapped back. “What? When?”
“Yeah, it happened last night. I sent one of our agents out to USP Coleman to confirm a hundred percent. I just heard back from him.”
“How?”
“Azarov was found with his throat slashed in his cell in the SHU. The agent I sent is looking into the how and why. Someone from the prison’s staff had to let the attacker in, though.”
I was quiet. I didn’t know what to say.
“Still there?” Faust asked.
“Yeah, just trying to wrap my head around it. Um, what have you found about the hit that was put out on me? Can you tie it to Viktor without question? Is this still something I should be worried about, or am I in the clear?”
“Still working on it, Kane. However, yes, it’s pretty safe to assume it came from him. I have a team going through all of the documents on the Azarovs that you gave me. Plus, we’ve been running our own investigation. First impressions are that it should be put to bed, though. From everything we have on his organization, Viktor was in charge, and everyone was an employee. They weren’t working like the mafia, where someone else is next up in line. Sure, Viktor had associates, but none that would be doing his bidding after he was dead.”
I ran my hand over my head, let out a deep breath, and slouched down. “You couldn’t have given me better news, Faust.”
“Well, don’t stop looking over your shoulder quite yet. We’re still trying to find out if this was a one-time thing, or this contract, or whatever you want to call it, went out to multiple parties.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“What’s going on up there?” he asked.
I gave him the story, start to finish.
“Damn,” Faust said. “Well, I guess the silver lining is that everyone should be all right. Hey, I figured I’d give you the big news first, but we did get identifications back on all your guys, including the prints that someone sent us this morning.”
“Um, hold on.” I walked to the floor’s nurse’s station and borrowed a pen and piece of scratch paper. “I’m ready, Faust.”
“Okay, your five Hispanic gunmen are Carlos Cruz, Jose Gomez, Manuel Acosta, Tomas Basco, and Matias Lugo. Every last one of these men spent time at Coleman. The only one that served any significant time was Cruz, though.”
“He’s alive here at the hospital. The local sheriff I’ve been working with is talking with his DA. They are going to get this Cruz guy some kind of a reduced sentence to talk.”
“Is the guy going to go for that?”
“It was his request. Hopefully, he can connect some dots for us.”
“Good. The prints that came in to us this morning belong to a Yury Sokoloff. The guy was technically an attorney with direct ties to Azarov. I say technically because everything about him screamed henchman—very checkered past, to say the least.”
“Did he ever meet with Viktor in prison?”
“Nothing on record, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that it didn’t happen. Information could have been filtered through phone calls or even other attorneys.”
I heard rustling on Faust’s end of the phone. He was speaking with someone else. I couldn’t make out the conversation.
“Hey, I have to run, Kane. I just got some news on something I’ve been working on. I’ll give you a buzz a little later today.”
“Thanks, Faust. I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me.”
“No problem. I’ll call you later.”
I clicked off and slipped the phone back into my pocket. Sommer walked toward me from down the hall, stopped, and waved me toward him.
I walked over. “Talk to the DA?” I asked.
“He should be here in a few minutes. Cruz’s public defender is in there with him now.”
“Is the DA going to deal?” I asked.
“He says he has to look at everything. This guy is going to get life no matter what, but maybe they can work something else out that will get this guy talking. You want to join me?”
“I’ll catch up with you. I need to go tell someone some good news.”
Chapter 46 - Kane
My father had been released—and at home—for two days. For having been imprisoned, blown up, and shot three times, he was in good spirits. The days, for me, were spent on the phone and tying up loose ends. I talked with Cooper at the Cedarburg PD. After giving him all the details and information I had on the perpetrators, I gave him Sommer’s and Deputy Lasowski’s contact information so he would be able to connect with them and share any needed information. Gase, my old partner, and I spoke. With the windows replaced and the bullet holes patched at his family’s property, Jim wouldn’t accept any kind of payment for other damages. He claimed the damage would add character to the old place. Knowing him, I should have guessed as much.
Callie and my father were watching a cooking show on television. I scooped another fingerful of wood putty from the container I held and started spreading.
“So are you guys going to be safe out there?” my father asked. He lay belly down on the bullet-ridden couch.
“No reason to think we shouldn’t be, Dad. Faust says Viktor hired the Hispanics himself. There never was a contract on my head from anyone else.”
“What about these Hispanics coming after you now?”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that. From w
hat Cruz at the hospital said, these guys weren’t connected like that. Common thugs looking for a way to make a quick buck.”
“I can think of better ways to make money than attempted murder of a cop and his family.”
I pressed the putty into one of the few remaining bullet holes. “I don’t know. Criminals—what can I say?”
My father grunted in agreement. He wiggled his reading glasses up his nose and squinted at the clock. “What’s that time say?”
“A quarter to three.”
He set his reading glasses on the table Kinnear and I had used as a shield and rubbed his eyes. “Everyone should be home from picking up Melissa’s car soon. Are you guys taking off right away or sticking around for a bit?”
I looked to Callie. “What time is our flight, babe?”
She took her eyes from the television at looked at me. “Seven, tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll probably head out, Dad,” I said. “I still have to get everything at Melissa’s house cleaned up.”
My father looked to Callie. “So what is the city you’re going to in California again?”
“La Jolla,” Callie said.
“Have your folks always been out there?” he asked.
“Yup. Since I was a baby.”
He flipped the channel on the television. “It’s by San Diego, you said?”
“Northern coastal suburb, yeah.”
“Man, is it pretty out there. I’d spent some time out in California when I was younger. Sure as hell is expensive to live there, though.”
Callie nodded.
“How many days?”
“Just a couple and then heading home. My classes start soon and I should probably get back to work too. Plus, Carl has to keep Tampa safe.”
My father smiled.
I heard tires in the snow out front, so I set down the putty, wiped my hands on a rag, and went to look out the window. A sheriff’s cruiser rolled to a stop next to the 4Runner in the driveway. I’d had a tire shop from in town come out the day prior and swap out the tires that had been blown out, but I would still have to drive it back to my sister’s house windowless. I’d called every place within fifty miles, but no one was able to replace the windows on such short notice. I’d have to get something set for someone to do it back at my sister’s place.
The door of the squad car opened, and Deputy Sommer stepped out. I walked to the front door and opened it. Sommer came up the stairs, shook my hand, and walked in. He took off his winter hat and tucked it under his arm.
“Got the cabin windows fixed, huh?” he asked.
“The glass guys just left a couple hours ago,” my father said.
“I was just popping in to see if all was well.”
“We’re good. Esler stopped by here yesterday morning, I guess. Wakkman came last night when I was here.”
“Well, we’re going to keep popping in over the next few weeks, make sure everything is okay.”
My father took his attention from the television and looked at Sommer. “If you guys keep coming out all the time, I’m going to put you to work. I have some trees that I want to take down in the back.”
Sommer let out a chuckle and looked back at me. “Any news the last two days?” he asked.
“Not really. I spent yesterday getting my old partner’s cabin put back together. The window guys came out early, and I spent most of the afternoon patching bullet holes. I’m starting to get pretty good at it.” I pointed at the spots I’d just filled on my father’s back wall.
Sommer walked over and inspected the area.
My father looked back at us from the couch. “You know I’m going to redo that as soon as you leave, right?”
“It looks pretty good to me,” Sommer said.
My father shrugged and focused on the television again.
“How’s Kinnear?” I asked Sommer.
“He says they are going to cut him loose today. We’re expecting him back within a couple weeks.”
“Good to hear.”
“Any news from your fed buddy?” Sommer asked.
“I talked to him a couple more times. It’s looking more and more like this is done.”
“Probably a weight off your shoulders, huh?” Sommer asked.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Well,” he said. “I don’t suppose I’ll be seeing you too soon. The next time you’re up in this neck of the woods though, pop in the station.”
“I will. Thanks again, Sommer.”
“You folks take care.” Sommer nodded and shook my hand again. He pulled his winter sheriff’s hat back over his head and walked out.
I closed the door at his back.
Within a half hour, Sandy, Melissa, Jeff, and Tommy had returned with her car. The dealership we’d had it towed to explained that the main wire harness had been cut. We chalked it up to our gunman named Yury. After a bill of a couple thousand dollars, which I insisted on paying, it was roadworthy again.
We stood in the living room, ready to leave. Sandy helped my father from the couch.
He gingerly walked over and rested his arm around my shoulder. He let out a long breath. “You’re a real pain in the ass, Son.”
“Sorry, Dad.”
He pulled me in for a hug. “Just keep yourself and your new family safe.”
“I will.”
He looked to Callie. “Sandy and I will be down when the baby arrives. August eighteenth?” he asked.
“That’s what they say.” She gave my father and step-mother a hug. “I’ll make sure you guys know for sure as we get closer.”
Sandy gave me a hug. “I wish we would have had more time to spend together, Carl.”
“So do I. We will soon, hopefully minus all the bullshit.” I hugged her closer and spoke in a whisper. “Did you get it?”
She nodded.
“Thanks,” I whispered. “I’ll come back in for it.”
She smiled and went back to my father’s side.
“We’ll give you a call from California and again when we get back to Tampa.”
“Okay,” My father said. He rubbed his eyes and then ran his hand over his mustache as he sniffed. “You guys be safe.” His voice sounded a little choked up, but he let out a cough to mask it.
My sister hugged my father. “I’m glad you’re okay, Dad. Stay off your feet and out of the shop until you’re better.”
“Yeah, yeah,” my father said.
“Sandy, make sure he does,” Melissa said.
“I will. Love you, honey.” Sandy hugged my sister.
My father gave Tommy a rub of the hair and told him to be good. He shook Jeff’s hand and told him they’d talk soon. Our group headed outside and toward the cars. My father stood at the door and waited.
I hopped in the truck and started the motor. Callie, bundled up with a hat and thick gloves, opted to take the windowless ride back with me. She waved at my parents at the door.
“Damn, babe. I forgot my phone charger. Give me two seconds.”
I hopped out and jogged through the snow-covered driveway back toward the front door. I climbed the stairs and walked inside.
In the living room, my father put his left hand on my shoulder and held out a small velvet-covered box with his right. “Sized in the nick of time,” he said. “Maybe you can do it while you guys are out in California.”
I held out my hand and took the box. “I was getting worried that they wouldn’t be able to get it done.” I flipped the lid and looked at my purchase.
“It’s beautiful, Carl. She’ll love it,” Sandy said.
I nodded and let out a long breath. “Hopefully enough to say yes.” I slipped the small box into my jacket pocket. I hugged my father and Sandy again. “Thanks for grabbing it for me.”
“No problem, honey,” Sandy said.
I walked toward the door, and they followed. “I’ll see you guys.”
“Let me know how it goes,” my father said.
“I will.”
They stood in the doorway while I headed back to the car. I jumped in the driver’s side and closed the door.
“Find your charger?” Callie asked.
I patted my pocket. “Got it.”
I threw my dad and Sandy another wave and clicked the 4Runner into reverse.
Chapter 47
He pulled the bandage from the side of his face. His second surgery in as many weeks had been completed just a few days prior. He tossed the blood-soaked piece of cloth into the sink. His lower jaw had been reconstructed. Five new teeth had been implanted into the bone. Staring into the mirror, he rubbed his fingers across the recently completed skin graft. Tattoos covered his giant arms. Round pink scars broke up the tattoos on his chest.
A tap came at the bathroom door.
“Yeah?” he called.
“I have some news, sir.”
“What’s that?”
“Yury Sokoloff was unsuccessful in his attempt. He’s deceased.”
“I figured as much. He hasn’t reported back in days. Is that it?”
“No. Um, I don’t really know how I should say this, but…”
He lifted his chin and looked at the fresh scar from a bullet beneath. “Spit it out,” he said.
“Um. Something happened to your brother in prison. We found out just a few minutes ago.”
“What?”
“He was killed, sir.”
Ray didn’t respond. He balled his hands into fists and pressed them down into the bathroom’s granite countertop.
A light tap came again from the other side of the door. “Mr. Azarov? Did you hear what I said?”
He cleared his throat. “I heard you. Leave me.”
“Okay, sir.”
He brought his hands from the countertop and rubbed his eyes. His hands spread across his face, went over his ears, and gripped the back of his neck. He stared downward as his eyes welled up.
He wiped the tears away with his fingers and stared at himself in the mirror. The look in his eyes transformed from sadness to anger. His knuckles cracked as he balled up his right fist. Then Ray punched the mirror. Shards of glass cascaded down into the bowl of the sink and vanity. He punched again and again. Blood ran from Ray’s knuckles. He continued punching until his fist was hitting the concrete behind the drywall. He took a step back. The mirror was gone. The wall behind the mirror was gone. Blood and pieces of skin from his fist hung from the cinder block. With his left hand, he pulled a piece of glass from under the skin of his right fist. Then he twisted the knob and left the bathroom.
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