“Yes.”
“Why’d he do it?”
Allie sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Did you know him?”
“Yes.” She didn’t want to get into it. Not now. Thankfully, he didn’t press for more details.
“Tell me about the night they died before the actual shooting took place. Anything unusual happen?”
She closed her eyes and heard the argument, remembered curling into herself as the harsh words bounced off the walls.
“There was a screaming match between my parents that night. Which wasn’t unusual. They often argued. But this seemed more intense. When I demanded to know what was going on, Mom ordered me to my room and Dad looked like he had a loose grip on his rage. Since I’d been on the receiving end of that rage more than once, I didn’t ask any more questions. I pretended to leave, but hid around the corner to hear what I could.”
“What’d you learn?”
“My father was livid. He demanded to know how my mother could betray him by going to Nevsky and asking him for money.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. And then he said, ‘You’ve done it now.’”
“Were you all having a difficult time financially? I mean, obviously you were, but . . .”
“Not that I specifically recall, but . . .” Allie walked into her spare bedroom with Linc on her heels. The walls looked much like her hallway, but it was the large farmhouse table in the center of the room that she aimed for. “This says differently.” She snagged a thick manila folder and pulled it toward her. Linc stood beside her and looked over her shoulder. His nearness unexpectedly caused her heart to ache, and she had to battle the desire to turn and bury her face in his chest, to seek comfort and reassurance that everything was going to be okay.
Instead, she edged to the right, putting some distance between them and opened the folder. “My parents’ bank statements, investment accounts, everything I could find. They were flat broke, and the house was getting ready to go into foreclosure.”
“Where’d the money go?”
“I’m not sure. There were a lot of cash withdrawals in large amounts.”
“Blackmail?”
“I’ve wondered about that, of course, but haven’t found any evidence to support it. Or evidence that would allow me to toss the possibility aside. However, I did find an invoice from a travel agency, and they said an airline ticket had been purchased but travel hadn’t been completed. The name on the ticket wasn’t my father’s name, but he could have been using an alias.” She bit her lip. “I think he knew things were going south and decided to bail. He just never had a chance to. As for the money”—she shrugged—“who knows? I have my theories, though.”
“If he was going to leave you all, he could have been socking that money away in an offshore account somewhere.”
She blinked. “That was one of my theories, so it wouldn’t surprise me.”
“So your parents were fighting because your mother went behind your father’s back to Nevsky for help bailing them out of financial trouble.”
“That’s what it sounded like to me.”
“How did your mother even know Nevsky?”
“My dad and Nevsky were both from Moscow,” she said. “They left to go to college in Brooklyn the same year and met there, drawn by the things they had in common—like their country and language. From what I can figure out from digging into my parents’ records and looking at old yearbooks, my mother, father, and Nevsky were good friends. Then Mom and Dad got married and Nevsky disappeared.”
“Wait a minute, Moscow? Radcliffe isn’t a Russian surname.”
“No, my mother legally changed it after the shooting and we went into hiding for a while, afraid the shooter would come back once he learned we’d survived.”
“Okay, so Nevsky disappeared because he became part of the Bratva?”
“I think so,” she said, not surprised he knew the slang term for the Russian Mafia. “I’m not sure when exactly, but it appears to have happened sometime shortly after my parents’ marriage, and I think that’s when the friendship dissolved.”
“Your parents didn’t want to have anything to do with Nevsky once they found out?”
“I don’t know.” She rubbed her eyes, fatigue hitting her. “I don’t know a lot of things. Most of the stuff I’ve come up with is speculation based on the information I’ve got and a few scattered memories.”
“And you think he’s responsible for your family’s deaths?”
“Yes. I know that he convinced Gregori Radchenko to be his hit man,” she said softly. “I just don’t know why.”
“Which is why you were so eager to go undercover as his cook,” Linc said.
“Yes. And he still slipped away from us.” She narrowed her eyes. “Doesn’t it make you wonder?”
“Wonder what?”
“Nevsky keeps close tabs on his operations. He’s not the best delegator, which makes him slightly more vulnerable in some ways than others who pass everything off to their minions and keep their own hands clean. But while we can seem to track him down, physically, when it comes to actually getting him into custody, it’s like he’s a ghost.”
Linc narrowed his eyes. “So, what are you saying?”
“I’ve wondered if he has someone in his pocket.”
“Like who?”
She shook her head. “There’s no telling. I mean, I don’t want to think that, of course, but guys like Nevsky have their ways of finding the weak spots in some cops. Could be anybody. Could be several anybodies. His net is cast wide and he has a whole lot of money.”
“I can check with my mother and see if she’s heard any rumors about any cops working for Nevsky. Although, if she has, I’m sure she’s got her own investigation going.”
Allie nodded. “Wanna help me pack all this up?”
“Where are you going to stash it?”
“I don’t know.”
“I can take it to my place if you want.”
She bit her lip, then gave a short nod. “You have room for it all?”
“I’ve got a closet it’ll fit into.”
For the next hour, they packed the boxes the information had originally been in and Linc carried them down to his truck while Allie continued to stay out of sight. When he returned for the last time, he shut the door behind him. “Your Mr. Carter is an interesting guy. I wish I had more time to trade stories with him.”
She smiled. “I like him too. Did he grill you?”
“Absolutely. If I wasn’t really your partner who knew all the right answers, I think he would have had me in cuffs and waiting to be picked up.”
“Once a cop, always a cop.”
“He likes you. Teared up when I told him I was your partner. Said he was really going to miss you and your shop talking.”
A lump formed in her throat, and she forced it away, along with the guilt of her necessary duplicity. “Yeah, well, it’s not forever. I hope.”
“It’s definitely not. Now, where are we going to park you so we can work this case without risk that someone’s going to recognize you?”
“I think if I cut and dye my hair, use glasses, wear a hat, and pad my clothing a bit, I can do whatever I need to do without worrying about it.”
“Carter would recognize you.”
She huffed a short laugh. “Probably, but he’d keep his mouth shut until I could tell him what was going on.”
“Probably. So,” he said, “what’s your suggestion on making this transformation happen?”
9
Linc waited for Allie to leave the way she’d entered. Once she’d merged into the woods behind the complex, he grabbed the last box that contained a few changes of clothing and toiletries and hefted it onto his shoulder, then locked the door behind him and pocketed the key.
A short walkway took him to the parking lot. He looked up to see Allie’s neighbor sitting on his second-floor balcony.
“All finished in there?”
Mr. Carter asked. He leaned forward in the rocker, his arms crossed, blue eyes intense.
“Yes, sir, all finished.”
“How long were you and Allie partners?”
“A little over a year.”
“That’s a good amount of time to get to know someone.”
“And miss them,” Linc said, trying not to rush.
“Sure is. I lost a partner my first year on the job. He shoved me out of the way of a bullet and took it himself. Left behind two teenagers and a wife.” Grief flashed. “That was fifty years ago, and I still think about him every day.”
Linc hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. You’ll think about her and you’ll miss her, but I knew Allie pretty well. She wouldn’t want you to stop living just because she’s gone. Ya hear?”
“I hear. And you’re right. She wouldn’t.” He shook his head, anger at the deception sweeping over him once more in spite of the benefits he could see in it. The most important one to him being that it kept her safe from Nevsky. He supposed that should be enough to satisfy him. However, Linc still wasn’t completely convinced it was the best plan Henry had ever come up with.
“I’m going to get this in the car and head home. I’ll probably be coming back for a few more things, so I imagine I’ll see you again soon.”
“Yes, I imagine you will. Take care, son, and stay safe.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.”
Linc walked away from the man with the strangest feeling that Mr. Carter had seen through the whole charade. He frowned. There was no way. Linc was just being paranoid.
Wasn’t he?
He loaded the box into the back of the Suburban, then climbed behind the wheel. However, he couldn’t help one last glance in the rearview mirror. Mr. Carter stood there, chewing on his toothpick, hands shoved in his front pockets and watching with that eagle-eyed vision he seemed to have.
“Stop it,” Linc muttered to himself. “He’s a retired cop. He’s going to see something suspicious whether it’s there or not.”
But it was there. Linc growled and cranked the vehicle. He called his mother, using the Bluetooth.
She answered on the first ring. “Linc, good to hear from you.”
“Hi, Mom. I can’t talk long, but I’ve got a question for you.”
“Of course.”
“Have you heard any rumors of any officers who might be on Nevsky’s payroll?”
A sigh slipped through the line. “Why do you ask?”
“I need to know.”
“Just between you and me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then, yes. There’ve been rumors. We’ve done an internal investigation, of course, but nothing solid has turned up.”
“So, you’re finished with the investigation?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Right.” He paused. “Could you let me know if you do find something?”
Another pause. “Off the record? Yes.”
“Thanks.”
They said their goodbyes and Linc drove to the convenience store Allie had instructed him to go to when he’d finished with her apartment. He pulled into the last parking spot on the right, facing the building. Allie slipped around the corner, climbed into the passenger side and shut the door. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
“What is it?” she asked.
He raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
“Something’s bothering you. You have that little crease in your forehead that means you’re thinking or something’s nagging at you.”
Linc let his eyes linger on the woman who’d been the first one in a very long time to turn his heart and his world upside down. A woman he’d started to lower his guard with and now regretted it. Sort of. “I talked to my mother. No cops officially known to be on Nevsky’s payroll.”
“Unofficially?”
“The investigation is ongoing.”
“Okay. Good to know, I guess. What else?”
He laughed. “It’s scary how you can read me.”
“It’s a gift.”
“It’s your neighbor.”
“Carter?”
“Yeah. He’s definitely one to watch.”
“I know. I told you he would talk your ear off once he found out you were law enforcement.”
“No, there’s something else about him. Something I can’t read.”
“Like what?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I think he suspects something is wonky and is trying to figure it out. He’s a cop. His instincts are shouting.”
“Well, they’re just going to have to shout. We have a teenager to find before her father does.”
He nodded, but only because he couldn’t do anything about her neighbor at the moment. “Let’s get the stuff you need for your disguise and I’ll think about it. I’m also going to check in with Annie and see if she can get busy tracking down Daria.”
“Henry’s working on that.”
“I know, but Henry’s also working other cases that have his attention pulled in different directions. I want Annie on this.”
Allie nodded. “Works for me. The more people looking for her, the better. And Annie’s got the resources at her fingertips.” She frowned. “Although I’ve got to say, I’m not so sure even Annie’s resources are going to do us a whole lot of good with Daria.”
“Why not?”
“The girl’s got skills. As long as she’s not held captive somewhere, I think she’ll be a challenge to track down.”
“What kind of skills?”
“She’s got street smarts, including how to make her phone untraceable. She ran away from home when she was sixteen because she was mad at her father. Gerard, her bodyguard, finally found her three weeks later and brought her home.”
“Not much of a bodyguard if he lost her in the first place.”
She gave a low chuckle. “He’s actually a good one. Daria is just genius-level clever. And I’m not even kidding when I use the word ‘genius.’ Her IQ has got to be off the charts. You heard some of the conversations we had. You know what I’m talking about.”
“I missed the one where she mentioned running away. How’d he talk her into coming back home?”
“She didn’t go into details on how he found her, but basically, she got word that her father threatened to kill Gerard, so she got a message to Gerard, telling him where to find her.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“So, where was Gerard when she was being held at the office building we raided?”
Allie shook her head. “I don’t know. I have to admit, I’ve been wondering that. I’m actually wondering if the man is still alive—or if he’s just more loyal to Nevsky than to Daria after all.”
“Would she run to him for help?”
She raised a brow. “We may have only been working together for a year, but we sure are on the same wavelength.” He smiled and Allie nodded. “I’ve come to the conclusion that he would be her first choice to turn to for help—as long as she doesn’t feel like he betrayed her in some way with her father. Then again, she knows that I know she may run to him and avoid him altogether if she really doesn’t want to be found.”
“Why not run to you?” He shook his head. “I keep coming back to that.”
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I had her trust. She was glad to see me in the office. But something sent her running. If she thought I was in danger because of her, she’d stay away. If she thought I betrayed her somehow, she’d stay away. If she saw someone she thought would betray her, she’d stay away.”
“So, it’s possible she could think she’s protecting people she cares about by running.”
“Yes, she’s that type. She sure didn’t get her father’s genes.”
At the nearest superstore, he pulled into a parking spot off to the side. “Duck down and keep thinking. I’ll be right back.”
“And get cortisone cream for my
stitches, will you? They’re itching me to death.”
Allie stayed hunkered down on the floorboard of the Suburban. Not exactly the most comfortable spot she’d ever been in, but not the worst either. While Linc shopped, she texted Henry and filled him in.
He texted back:
Where are you going to stay?
Haven’t figured that out yet. Will let you know where I land.
My offer stands.
I know. Thanks, but I don’t see that working. You live in a very tight-knit neighborhood. People would notice. LOL
Yeah, I thought about that. I have another place that would work for you.
Really? Where?
It’s kind of my getaway man cave thing. I go there to wind down and de-stress. You’re welcome to it. It’s about thirty minutes outside of Columbia.
You’re not married and have no kids. Why do you need a man cave?
Do you want it or not?
Ouch. Touchy subject? She considered it. And couldn’t say she wasn’t tempted. But she didn’t want to be that far away from where she figured Daria was probably hiding out. On the same streets she ran to a year ago.
That’s okay, Henry. Thanks.
If you change your mind, let me know. What’s the next step?
Finding Daria and the information she has on her father.
Do you have a lead?
Did she? Not really. But . . . she did have an idea.
Maybe. I’ll let you know how it pans out.
Details?
Will let you know when I figure them out.
I’ll be waiting to hear.
Once I find Daria—or the information she has on her father—or hopefully both—we can grab him and put him away for good.
Until then, we brainstorm. Keep me posted.
Allie set the phone on the floor beside her and closed her eyes. What was taking Linc so long? It was funny, but seated on the floorboard with the doors locked, she felt safe. Probably the safest she’d felt in a very long time—like since the night she’d watched her family be slaughtered by a seventeen-year-old kid.
Hate for the shooter welled and she stuffed it down, drawing on years of training to control her emotions. This had to end. She needed to find her family’s killer in order to gain closure once and for all. And ask the burning question that had haunted her for the last fifteen years.
Vow of Justice Page 8