by G. K. Parks
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I sat back in the chair and studied my nails. Time was on my side. With any luck, he’d crack under the pressure he was placing on himself.
“Answer me,” he demanded, but I glanced up at him and smirked. “What the hell is she talking about?” he asked, swiveling to face Jablonsky. “I’ve told you that you have me confused with someone else. That I want a lawyer, and now you send this psycho in here instead. What is she talking about? I want to know the charges against me.”
“Resisting arrest,” Mark said in a neutral tone.
“But why were you arresting me in the first place?” Jakov growled, exasperated.
I let out an audible, exaggerated sigh. “Because of that thing you did.”
“What thing?” he bellowed, frantically spinning to face me again. “What did I do?”
“You know what you did,” I said. This was my personal version of who’s on first, and it was utter hell for Jakov. At least I was amused, and I suspected Mark was too.
“Fine, I’m not saying a word. I’m entitled to a lawyer. I want a lawyer,” Jakov insisted, staring across the table at me. “You can’t deny me my civil rights. You have to get me a lawyer.”
“No, we actually don’t,” Jablonsky said.
“Why the hell not?” Jakov spat.
“Because of that thing you did,” I volunteered. “Now, you said you weren’t going to say a word. So don’t.”
He went slack-jawed, alternating his gaze between Mark and me. “Then how the hell do I get out of here?”
“You start talking,” Jablonsky said.
“No, remember, he said he wasn’t saying a word,” I pointed out.
“Oh, right,” Mark said.
We fell silent, and Jakov began to fidget. Then he got the look. I’d seen it before. I’d actually seen it on Jakov’s face before. He was considering his options. He planned to bolt, but there was nowhere to go.
“It’s a good thing you don’t know me,” I said, distracting him from whatever dumbass plan he was formulating that would likely get him hurt, “but you are wrong about one thing.”
“What’s that?” he asked, giving the door another furtive glance.
“I do know you.” My words were dark and sinister. “Your chances of making it out of this room are miniscule, but if you do, I can guarantee that you won’t make it out of the building.”
“You don’t know that,” he replied, his tone more confident and a tad menacing. His look changed. The dumb act just went out the window. He grinned, staring at me or possibly through me. He truly believed he was superior, that he knew something we didn’t, and he would be victorious.
“I’d bet on it.”
“You’ll lose. You have the wrong man, but my family will come for me. They’ll stop at nothing.” He looked around the room. “This is the reason that you are hated.”
“You don’t know me, so how can you hate me?” I asked.
“I know enough. You were supposed to die in that kitchen with the other rats,” Jakov said.
“Thanks,” I gave him a big phony smile, “that’s what I wanted to hear.”
His confidence wavered slightly, realizing he’d admitted to something, but he was too arrogant to give up that easily. “It’s not a crime to hear things.”
“What else did you hear?” Mark asked, standing straighter.
Jakov snorted. “I want a lawyer. You can’t keep me here. You can’t question me without one.”
“Damn,” I said, leaning back and realizing this would take a while, “did you already forget that we are keeping you here? It’s been days. You’re not going anywhere, and you’re not getting a lawyer. Now stand by your word and shut the fuck up.” I kicked the table, jolting him slightly.
He cursed and muttered in his native tongue, but I ignored it. And the waiting resumed. Leaning back, I resisted the urge to close my eyes for an extended amount of time. It was important to appear relaxed, but it’d be unprofessional to fall asleep while conducting an interrogation. However, in the event I was ever on the other side of the table again, I might actually attempt it to halt the questions.
“I want to go back to my cell,” Jakov finally said.
“We don’t give a shit,” Mark replied. “You insist that you’ve done nothing wrong, but unless you tell us something useful, we’re gonna sit in this fucking room from now until kingdom come.”
“Fine.” Jakov wanted to be stubborn, so we waited him out. It took nearly an hour before he spoke again. “Do your bosses know you’re doing this?”
“He’s my boss,” I said, jerking my head at Jablonsky. I stared at Jakov. “He doesn’t like it when his underlings are supposed to die, and he really hates it when an asshole like you gloats about it.”
“I didn’t touch you,” Jakov said. “I wasn’t there.”
I smiled. “Of course not. Clearly, you don’t know me, and you most definitely didn’t recognize me the day you bolted from Pepper.”
“You have it wrong,” Jakov insisted.
“Then tell us how it is,” Jablonsky snapped. He was losing his patience.
Jakov looked at the door again, rolled his eyes, and stared at the floor. The time lapse had done nothing to loosen his lips, so I kicked the table again. He glared angrily at me, so I kicked it harder this time.
“Stop it,” he growled. I kicked again. His chair was bolted to the floor, and he was hooked to the table, completely susceptible to the vibrations from my kicks. “Stop.”
“Maybe I will if you beg,” I snarled, keeping my voice low on the off chance that we were being monitored. “Or maybe I should knock you to the ground and kick you instead of the table. It didn’t do anything to anyone, but you’re a different story.”
“I didn’t hurt you,” Jakov yelled.
“Who did?” Jablonsky asked, taking a few steps closer and motioning that I should stop rattling our captive.
“I won’t betray my family,” Jakov insisted.
“Your family?” Mark reached into his jacket and pulled out photographs. “Like your cousin Niko?” He pulled out a printout of the two passport photos. “Or is that really you? It’s hard to tell. You can see why we’re confused.” He cocked his head to the side, making every effort to soften his voice. “Maybe we do have the wrong man.”
It was the opportunity that Jakov wanted. Unfortunately, we’d only given it to him as a condition of pointing the finger at Niko and providing us with actual evidence that he was innocent. Jakov narrowed his eyes at the photos and shook his head.
“Those are doctored. They’re fake. You altered them in order to pin the crimes on me and my family,” Jakov argued.
“Bullshit. You already admitted that your family will come for you and stop at nothing. We know who Niko Horvat is. We’ve had our eyes on him for some time,” I volunteered, hoping that he’d open up. “We can overlook some things, like if you sent your cousin your passport to use. Since you insist that we have the wrong man, why don’t you prove it?”
“I am no rat.” Jakov practically bared his teeth. “You’ve seen what happens to rats.” His lips pulled back into a snarl. “We kill the rats and their source of cheese.”
“I’m guessing that sounds better without the English translation,” I mocked. “Either that or your attempt to sound like a badass needs major work.”
“I don’t have to sound like anything. I have done nothing. You’re blaming me for having relatives,” Jakov argued.
“Actually, you just admitted to multiple counts of murder and the attempted murder of a federal agent. My federal agent,” Mark spat. “For all we know, you could be Niko.”
“You have my identification,” Jakov said.
“Right, because there’s no way that could be a fake.” Mark rolled his eyes. “Wait, you were arrested for attempting to use a fake passport, and you provided Pepper with fake work documentation. Surely, you must realize the irony of your statement. This is it. Tell me wh
at happened Friday night, two weeks ago, inside the kitchen at Pepper.” Jakov opened his mouth to say something, and Mark slammed his palm onto the table, rattling Jakov’s bindings again. “And let me make it real clear, if you don’t answer the question truthfully and to my satisfaction, I’m going to take this file and these photographs, light them on fire, and shove them down your throat. Now talk.”
Jakov turned his anger on me. He hissed, practically spitting in my direction. His gaze was meant to intimidate, but I wasn’t frightened. His eyes darted to the cast on my arm, and he slowly drew them back to my face. Then he smiled wickedly.
“You were there,” I said. It wasn’t a question. Truthfully, I didn’t remember seeing him that night, but from what he’d said and the way he acted, I knew it was true. “Pull up his sleeves.” Jablonsky didn’t ask why I’d said that, but he roughly shoved the long sleeves up to Jakov’s elbows. “Like I said, you were there.”
Jakov studied his arms, not finding any visible marks that would explain my comment. He had a tattoo, but only the slightest trace of it was visible at the crook of his elbow. He narrowed his eyes.
“This proves nothing,” he insisted.
“No, it’s everything. You were there that night. You know what happened. A police officer and a civilian were gunned down in the kitchen of that restaurant. The bodies were moved, and I would have ended up dead if I hadn’t escaped. Why wasn’t I killed when they were?”
Jakov huffed, searching the room for a way out. “It would be impolite to kill a woman. Maybe someone thought you might be useful.”
“How?” I asked.
He licked his lips, considering his options. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s obvious.”
“What is?” Jablonsky asked.
“Niko’s aware that you’re monitoring him,” Jakov said, leaning as far back as he could and looking smug.
Twenty-seven
“Parker,” Jablonsky called, stopping me at the elevator doors, “hey, what was the deal with his sleeves? If that means something to you, tell me now. We don’t have evidence. He won’t talk. He refuses to help. I need something.”
“It was a bluff,” I replied. “At first, I thought that there could be bruising or scrapes from struggling over the gun, but it’s been too long. They would have healed by now. Then I thought maybe if he had some kind of identifying mark, that would be something, but I don’t have anything.”
“He thought you did. That’s why he said as much as he did,” Jablonsky said, stepping into the elevator with me. “We can work with that. Expand. Just tell me the part he played and what you remember.”
“You don’t get it.” I spun so we were face-to-face. “I don’t remember him from that night. He could have pulled the trigger for all I know, or he could have been hiding inside a broom closet. I don’t remember.”
“Okay, take it easy.”
“No, don’t handle me.” I put my hand up for him to stop and immediately began pacing inside the elevator. “I don’t want to try hypnosis or more therapeutic techniques. It was dark. I was scared and drunk. He could have been the shooter.”
“Do you remember the man’s voice?” Mark asked. “We could have him say some of the things you remember, and maybe the voices will sound the same.”
I bit my lip, searching my memory. “I don’t think it was him. He might have been the man that brought me into the kitchen and cuffed me to the chair. Or there could have been an unknown number of other people inside that I never saw or don’t remember seeing.”
“So you took a gamble that he’d break?”
“It didn’t work.”
“It helped,” Mark insisted. He watched me stalk the floor in front of him. “Okay, you said the man that snapped your wrist was the same man that shot Donaldson.”
“I think so.”
“Someone else was driving the SUV.”
“Obviously.”
Mark nodded slightly, lost in thought. His eyes darted back and forth for a few seconds while he processed through whatever scheme he concocted. “But you’re positive that Jakov was there?”
“He ran. He knows what happened. He knows me,” I insisted.
“All right. I’ll coordinate with Tinsley. The security footage from Pepper is already being scrubbed. I’ll make sure they pinpoint Jakov’s position inside and outside the restaurant. We’ll figure out where the bastard was and what he was doing.”
“He said now Niko knows. The clock has started. We don’t have the luxury of wasting time with this asshole.”
“I know.” He looked grim. “Speaking of time,” he glanced at his watch, “you’ve been here for almost ten hours. I can’t afford to risk your health and have you benched at a time like this.”
“We don’t have time to waste. I’m okay to hang around here. Maybe I can help.”
“You’re useless to me. Go home and sleep on things. Tomorrow, I want to know how we can break Jakov.”
“You might need to hire a psychic for that one.”
“Go home,” he ordered, abandoning me outside the elevator while he marched down the hall to the conference room.
“Sure, just as soon as I find a ride.”
Calling Martin for help didn’t hold any appeal, so despite logic, I grabbed my car keys and went to the garage, enjoying the freedom of self-reliance that I’d so desperately been missing. Thankfully, Martin was too preoccupied to notice how I arrived home.
I took off his shirt, leaving it draped on the kitchen chair while I searched the fridge for sustenance. After heating a bowl of soup and polishing off a bottle of water, I gave the staircase a dirty look. Our stupid bedroom was on the fourth floor. How moronic. Settling onto the sofa, I ate my dinner and tried to focus on Jakov, but I had no recollection of him from that night. I attempted to force myself to logically assess the floor plan of Pepper and the likely locations where Jakov might have been. My thoughts kept returning to his haunting words. Niko knew we were monitoring him. That could mean he had surveillance equipment set up near or around Pepper, or Jakov’s incarceration had set plans in motion.
Eventually, I gave up and climbed the stairs to bed. Martin came in a few minutes later, carrying his laptop and a few thick binders. He gave me a look but refrained from asking how today had gone. The answer was written all over my face. Without a word, he brought me the TV remote and sat down beside me, letting my viewing choice drone in the background while he worked.
A few hours later, I opened my eyes. My face was firmly planted against his stomach, and he was sitting sideways since I was stretched out. The TV had turned itself off, which was what had woken me, but he was buried in one of the binders and hadn’t noticed. For a moment, my morbid sense of humor laughed. In the event all hell broke loose, it was absolutely pointless to worry about ridiculous lawsuits or work. It was a waste of precious time. But then the saner part of my mind took over, and I shook away that thought. Work mattered to Martin. It was his company, his creation, his empire. Regardless of whatever Niko and Shade planned, the world would keep spinning, at least most of it would. I had to have faith that we’d find a way to sabotage their plans. If we couldn’t crack Jakov, there was another path to take. We just had to find it.
My thoughts and dreams remained fluid throughout the night, running from facts and problem solving to nonsensical whims. Upon waking, I wasn’t hit by an epiphany. It was just the unsettling revelation of my own mortality that greeted me, as it had done every morning since the incident. Going back to sleep and remaining in denial was the best course of action, but the bed was cold. Martin was gone, and work needed to be done.
Throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, I decided that professionalism was overrated and returned to the office. When I got there, Lucca and a platoon of agents and techs were hard at work in the conference room. There was no sign of our fearless leader or any of the other head honchos from our joint task force.
Taking a seat at my desk, I checked for notes or case updates, but I didn’t
have any. Even my e-mail was empty. I stared down at the cast, knowing that I shouldn’t be here. I had nothing to contribute. I wasn’t cleared to be in the field. I posed a danger to myself and others due to the plaster hindrance covering my arm. I also knew that my left-handed firing capabilities were decent, but protocol was protocol. Or that was just my current excuse. Sometimes, it was hard to separate reality from the lies I told myself.
“Good morning,” Lucca said. He looked at my blank computer screen and empty desk. “Is everything okay?”
“Peachy. Where’s Jablonsky?”
“He’s with Tinsley. The police have a lead on Jakov’s whereabouts at the time of Donaldson’s murder. They’re checking it out.”
“Have you heard anything concerning Shade’s movements? Last night, Jakov made it sound like an attack might be imminent.”
“We’re working on it.” Lucca glanced back at the occupied conference room. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“Behr wants me on this. Weren’t you paying attention during the meeting yesterday?”
“Yeah, but what exactly can you contribute? You don’t remember anything, do you?”
“Thanks, Lucca, I appreciate that vote of confidence.” I rolled my eyes. “You can’t even muster a single word of gratitude since I schlepped all the way here.”
“You aren’t cleared to drive. Did you walk? Because that would be impressive.”
“I can drive. I’m off the pain pills since I need to be sharp.” I also didn’t have much of a choice.
“If I were you, I’d take advantage of the medical leave, especially with the way things are right now.”
“How can I?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “How could you even suggest something like that? This is an all hands situation. Would you really step back if you were in my position?”
“I don’t know, but we can do this without you, Alex.”
“What the hell is your problem? You went to Jablonsky and accused me of assault or attempted murder or something. You’ve wanted me out of the way this entire time, and even now, when I’ve been ordered back here, you still want me gone. It’s not like we’re working together. I’m not cleared to be in the field, so my presence isn’t a safety risk to you. So what the hell is your problem?”