by Lisa Childs
Tori tensed. “What about the breakin?”
“He didn’t know anything about it.”
“Of course he wouldn’t admit to it,” she said with a disparaging snort. “He knows you’re an ex-cop. He probably knows you and Garek are working together to get evidence against him.”
How did she know? How did Tori know everything?
Candace narrowed her eyes and tried to focus on the woman. But it was as if the strobe lights had started flashing faster—blinding her. She could see only red and green—no images. And her head began to pound.
She had been drugged.
And there was only one person who could have done it and only one reason why: Tori; she was the one who wanted Candace dead. And now that she’d been drugged, Candace had no way of protecting herself.
*
Viktor’s safe wasn’t in his den. Of course that would have been too obvious. The safe was in his master suite—in the floor of the walk-in closet. It was more than a safe, really. It was a vault. And like a vault, it hadn’t been easy to open. Garek could have used dynamite. Or backup.
But he’d had to sneak in—slowly, thanks to his wounded leg—and alone. He’d bypassed the security system with no problem. Hell, he knew the code. Even if Tori hadn’t told him, he’d watched Viktor enter it enough times to figure it out. Her birthday…
How could a man who seemed to love his daughter as much as Viktor loved Tori have killed the man she loved right in front of her? It made no sense. But could a man like Viktor—a man as ruthless and violent—really love anyone—even his own daughter?
Agent Rus would have to convince the woman that her father didn’t love her, if he had any hope of getting her to testify against him. Garek doubted she would. No matter how much he had hurt her, she wouldn’t betray her father.
Any more than Garek thought Viktor would have betrayed her…
What had Alexander Polinsky done? He’d heard the man was a player. Maybe Viktor had found out the guy had cheated on Tori. But then why would she have been upset about his killing him?
Garek shook his head and returned his attention to the vault. He didn’t have much time. Chekov never stayed long at his own parties. It was why he held them at the club instead of the estate—so he could go home whenever he wanted.
There were guards outside, though. And Milek. He’d heard his voice earlier. But since he’d stepped inside that closet, he hadn’t heard any of the voices through his earpiece. Either things were awfully quiet outside. Or the closet was soundproof and signal proof.
That probably meant they couldn’t hear Garek either—if he needed to call for help. Despite the warmth of the house, Garek shivered.
This was not good.
Maybe he needed to step out of the closet and make contact—at least let them know where he was inside the massive house. But then the lock clicked and the door popped open. The vault was deep and filled nearly to the top. Heavy plastic bags displayed contents of money and drugs. And there were guns…
Long guns. Automatic rifles. Handguns. He needed to call in the others to help him catalogue the contents. As far as he could see there were no tapes. Viktor was probably too smart to have his office wired, to risk recording his meetings and have those recordings fall into the wrong hands. Into hands like Garek’s.
“Hey, can anyone hear me?” he asked.
Not even static emanated from his earpiece, nor the echo of his own voice. He doubted anyone could hear him.
He leaned into the vault and drew out a couple of the handguns. They were the same caliber of the bullet that had been pulled from his leg. But somehow he knew they weren’t the weapon for which he searched.
There were a lot of guns in that vault, but he suspected not one of them was the murder weapon he needed for evidence. But would Viktor have the weapon if he wasn’t the murderer?
Oh, the man was a killer. He’d killed before, and he would kill again if he wasn’t stopped. But had he killed Alexander Polinsky?
Maybe someone had heard him, because he heard a door open—the only door he would be able to hear in the soundproof room—the door to the closet itself.
“Milek?” he called out hopefully.
“Your brother won’t be able to help you anymore,” Viktor said.
His deadly tone chilled Garek’s blood. Had he found Milek outside? Had he killed him?
He shouldn’t have gotten his brother involved. But like always, Milek had given him no choice. He still followed him around like he had when they were kids.
But his brother wasn’t his only concern. Viktor had been with Candace. What had he done to her?
Garek looked up from the vault to confront the killer. And he stared directly into the barrel of a gun. If he’d ever actually had a guardian angel, the celestial being must have deserted him, or he would have had some warning that Chekov was coming.
Now it was too late. Whatever had been done to his brother and the woman he loved—Garek was about to suffer the same ill fate.
Chapter 21
“What do you mean—you lost contact with both of them?” Nicholas demanded to know.
His heart began to hammer in his chest. His whole investigation was falling apart. And if that fell apart, so would his chance of ever really being part of the Payne family. They would never forgive him if Garek or Candace were harmed. Hell, he’d never forgive himself. Those people had come to mean a lot to him, too.
“What about Milek Kozminski?” he asked.
“We found his SUV running, the door open and blood on the seat and on the snow beside it.”
“Oh, God…” It didn’t look good for Milek either.
“Yeah,” Agent Dalton Reyes said. “You should have brought me in from the beginning, instead of using bodyguards to carry out an investigation like this. Organized crime is my specialty.”
“It was theirs, too,” Nick said, “before they became bodyguards. They worked for Chekov years ago.”
Dalton breathed a sigh of respect. He had once been a gang member himself. He understood the education and skill gained through a life lived even momentarily on the wrong side of the law.
“I’m surprised they’ve lived this long,” Reyes said. “You don’t leave an organization like Chekov’s alive.”
Just like you didn’t leave a gang and live. Dalton knew the danger well.
“We have to find them,” Nicholas said.
“You want us to go inside the estate?” Reyes asked. “We don’t have a warrant.”
“Milek’s blood is your warrant,” Nick said. “He’s in imminent danger. You have cause to go in.”
“But whatever we find inside could be inadmissible in court,” the other agent pointed out. He knew what it took to make a case.
Nicholas cursed his opinion of a warrant. A conviction didn’t matter as much to him as saving lives—especially these lives.
“We have to find them,” he repeated and added, “Alive.”
“That may not be an option,” Reyes warned him.
There was no other option. If they hadn’t survived this investigation, Nicholas would never forgive himself and neither would the Paynes. He would have no reason to stay in River City. It didn’t matter that his career would be over; he would lose much more than that.
He could only hope the Kozminskis and Candace had not already lost everything as well—including their lives.
*
Pain throbbed dully in Candace’s head—not as if she had taken a blow to her skull but as if she had a hangover. She dragged her lids open and peered around. No lights flashed—red and green—like they had at the club. In fact it was black—wherever she was. She tried to reach out, to test her boundaries, but her arms couldn’t move. Hard plastic bit into her wrists so sharply it nearly broke the skin. She stilled her movements and assessed her situation.
She had obviously been drugged. The water…
She had also been tied up, apparently with zip ties. They were harder to break than handcuffs. S
he might have been able to pick the lock on the handcuffs. But she needed a knife to cut the plastic and free herself.
She’d had a knife—in her purse. But that was already lost at the club. She didn’t feel the gun she’d had holstered to her thigh either. It was gone. She was completely defenseless. And she hated the feeling.
Hell, she didn’t even know where she was. Then a light flashed, blinding her. She squinted against it until her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness of the fluorescent lights hanging down from the open rafters above her. She was lying on a cold concrete floor in a basement—probably of the club. And a woman stood over her.
Tori still wore the gold dress they had picked out on their shopping trip. She looked beautiful—or she would have—had jealousy and madness not twisted her face into a grotesque mask of hatred.
“Daddy thought you would teach me how to protect myself?” She laughed. “You can’t even protect yourself.”
Candace had no defense for that comment. The woman spoke the truth, so there was no point in arguing with her. There was probably no point in yelling either. If Tori had thought anyone could hear her, she would have gagged her. She had just tied her up instead.
“He has no idea I don’t need any protection,” Tori said. “I take care of myself.”
But a man stood behind her—a heavily muscled man who looked vaguely familiar to Candace. He wasn’t one of Chekov’s men whom she’d met earlier. But this man had either run her off the road, or taken shots at her and Garek outside her apartment. Or both…
He was no doubt the person who’d carried her down the stairs, too. While Tori was stronger than Candace had initially thought, she wasn’t strong enough to have carried her.
The woman bitterly continued, “I also take care of anyone who messes with me.”
Yet it was probably this man who had tied her up—after carrying her. The zip ties had been pulled tightly—too tightly for Candace to easily free herself.
“I didn’t mess with you,” she told the crazy woman. She had done nothing to her but momentarily feel sorry for her.
Tori snorted. “You showed up here at the club—distracting Garek.”
“You wanted his attention?”
Tori sighed. “A lifetime ago Garek was all I wanted.”
She had loved him then. Stacy was lucky Candace hadn’t acted like this when Logan had fallen for the female Kozminski instead of her. She’d been bitter, but she hadn’t gone all Fatal Attraction like this.
“But I loved what Garek had more than who he was,” Tori continued.
Candace tensed with confusion. “I don’t understand…”
“He had Daddy’s respect,” she said. “My father adores Garek.”
Remembering his bruises and the way Viktor had broken into his apartment, Candace had concerns about how Chekov showed his affection. No wonder Tori was so messed up.
“You’re jealous of Garek?”
“I wanted Daddy to see him for the man he is,” she said. “Weak…”
Candace laughed now. She had thought the wrong things about Garek most of the time she’d known him, but even she had never considered him weak. “Garek Kozminski?” she asked. “How is he weak?”
Tori pointed to her—with the barrel of the gun she grasped so tightly. Even if Candace could work her zip ties loose, she wasn’t certain she could get that gun from the smaller woman without taking a bullet.
“You’re his weakness,” Tori said with disgust. “The minute you showed up, he lost all focus.”
“On you…” This was all about jealousy. But Candace wasn’t certain of whom the woman was jealous: her or Garek. Maybe both?
“So you were behind the attempts on my life?” Candace asked.
Tori just shrugged. But the man standing behind her looked at the female Chekov; clearly she was his boss. Not her father…
She had ordered him to go after Candace—like she had probably ordered that first man to follow her from the club. They’d all thought the spoiled Chekov princess had just been texting friends on her phone. They should have realized the woman had no friends. She must have been texting her own team of goons.
“Daddy noticed how easily Garek got distracted,” she said and a brief, smug smile crossed her face. “He realized Garek wasn’t as great and wonderful as he’d thought.”
“Garek saved my life every time,” Candace reminded her. And she hoped he would once again. But he was already hurt and completely across town. Would he figure out in time who was really responsible—would he know where to find her? “I think he’s pretty great and wonderful.”
Tori snorted. And as if she’d read Candace’s mind, she said, “He won’t save you this time. He won’t even be able to save himself.”
Candace held in a gasp as fear stabbed her heart. The woman was too smug; she knew something—something Candace wouldn’t like to learn. “What’s happened to Garek?”
Tori glanced at her watch as if she’d had everything timed. Of course she had been playing them all for weeks—even Special Agent Rus. “By now Daddy has caught Garek breaking into his safe.”
Garek had been wearing a wire; that was the plan. He should have had a warning when Chekov returned to his estate. But then he’d been wounded. He wouldn’t have been able to move fast enough to escape getting caught.
Tori clicked her tongue against her teeth in a tsking noise. “All that trouble and he didn’t find what he was looking for.”
Of course she would have known what Garek was looking for; Tori had put everything in motion when she’d gone to FBI agent Rus. Had that been on purpose, too? Had she known he would enlist Garek to help find the weapon? She may have even suggested it to him.
Tori wiggled the gun she held on Candace. “Because I have it. I had it all along. Garek gave his life for something he was never going to find.”
Fear and panic clutched Candace’s heart. If Chekov had caught him, would he kill Garek? The man was ruthless; of course he would. But she refused to give in to panic and despair. She had doubted Garek before. She wouldn’t doubt him again. She would trust if anyone could survive—Garek could.
*
“What the hell’s going on?” Chekov asked. “You had your brother out front—as a lookout—”
“What did you do to him?” Garek demanded to know. Milek couldn’t be dead; he had already lost too much to lose his life, as well.
Chekov laughed. “Always so protective of your younger siblings—that protectiveness is what landed you in prison.”
Garek played on it—reminding Chekov of his loyalty. “I landed in prison because I wouldn’t give you up.”
“You landed in prison because you killed a man,” Chekov said. Clearly he believed Garek’s mother’s twisted testimony. “You did it to protect your siblings. And you didn’t turn on me to protect them.”
He hadn’t done as good a job protecting Milek now. Or Candace…
“I need to know what happened to my brother,” he persisted. “I need to know if he needs medical help.”
Viktor chuckled. “I doubt it. From what I’ve seen he’s as hardheaded as you are.”
So he’d been hit over the head…
Depending on how hard he’d been struck, he could have survived. Garek drew in a breath and held on to hope, like he held on to the gun he’d taken from the vault.
“What the hell are you doing—breaking into my vault?” Viktor asked.
All his life Garek had handled stress with humor, so he strove for levity now. “Once a thief, always a thief…”
“Problem with you, Garek, is you weren’t really a thief,” Viktor said with great disappointment.
“I’m a Kozminski,” Garek reminded him. And by virtue of his very heritage, he’d had no choice.
“Oh, you have the skills, obviously,” Viktor said as he gestured at the open vault. “But you never had the heart of a true thief. You never really wanted to steal.”
Garek couldn’t deny that. “I was a disappointment
to my father.”
“He had to force you to do what he loved,” Viktor said. “And after he went to jail, I had to force you to continue what he loved.” Chekov gestured at the open vault again. “Is that what this is about? Revenge?”
“Maybe,” Garek admitted. It was probably part of the reason why he had agreed to the assignment Rus had offered him—to get back at Viktor for his coercion and threats—for terrorizing him as a kid. The other part was just the man eluding justice for too long.
“You can’t shoot me with the gun,” Chekov said. “It’s not loaded. None of them are.” He cocked the one he held, though. “But this one…”
“You’re going to shoot me like you shot Alexander Polinsky?” Garek asked.
Viktor tensed then repeated, “Like I shot Alexander?” He laughed but with sadness rather than humor. “Alexander was like a son to me. I would not have hurt him.”
Garek could not doubt the sincerity and pain in Viktor’s voice. He had obviously cared about the murdered man. Not that he still couldn’t have killed him. Rumor had it he’d killed his own brother years ago—in order to get ahead in their family.
“Why would you accuse me of such a horrible thing?” Viktor asked, and he was clearly appalled.
Garek shook his head and hastened to clarify, “I didn’t accuse you of anything.”
“Who did?” Viktor demanded to know.
He would not give up Tori, so he just shrugged. “People are always saying things about you. Horrible things.”
“But to say I killed a man I loved and respected?” Anger burned in Viktor’s dark eyes. “Why would anyone say that?”
Why indeed? Garek could think of several reasons, but the main one was to deflect guilt. His stomach lurched as he briefly considered the implications of the realization. It couldn’t be…
“Why would anyone have killed Alexander?” Garek asked.
Viktor shook his head. “I don’t know. I figured it was about me—someone was trying to hurt me.”
Garek had suspected the same reason for why someone had gone after Candace—to get to him. He’d suspected that person had been Viktor. Now he wondered.