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She exhales, and I swear I can feel her eyes rolling at me through the phone. "Anna Mayhew said Miss Fontaine was a case she worked not two, butthreeyears ago. It was so bad, Maksim. She watched her stepfather murder her mother. But the cop that had picked her up that night was indeed Donahue."
My brows furrow, and my ears perk up. "Then why is she scared of him?"
"Because that was her stepfather's best friend. During the court proceedings, Emilia came clean that she was being molested by her stepfather, from the time she was twelve until her mother found out and confronted him, which ultimately led to her death. When she said he also let his friendspartake, Donahue was present at the trials. So she never spoke up. She was too afraid. Poor thing would vomit or urinate when she was on the stand.”
My stomach churns just as the phone starts beeping with an incoming call. "How far are you from home? Viviana Bianchi is calling me."
"We're heading into the garage now. We'll be coming up through the back entryway."
"Okay. I'll let you know what she says."
She hangs up without another word, and I answer Viviana. "Vivi."
"Maksim." I can hear the noise of what sounds like a very busy office in the background, and her voice is hushed. "I found a property in upstate, close to the Canadian border. It's a two-story cabin. I sent the details to your email through an encrypted message. Write it down quickly."
"Thanks, Viv."
She, too, hangs up without another word.
"Why is it all starting to pile upnow?" I ask Niko, heading straight toward the minibar set up in the living room, grabbing two tumblers. I pour two shots in one, then hesitate before pouring myself one. My wife is on the way up to greet me, and I don't want to risk her not kissing me because of whiskey breath.
He smiles up at me. “Remember what your ma used to say about shit storms?”
“They hit on cloudless days when you got no umbrella.” I hand him his and pour water into mine – I need to hydrate more, anyway. "C'mon, let's get to my office. I need to write this address down and get on the phone with Aleksi."
He grunts, having to get back up to follow me. We trudge up the stairs to the first door on the right that is my office. I glance at the new bookshelves and the large, round lounging chair for my wife, so she can sit there and either read or work on her laptop while I work on my desktop at my… well, desk. Niko takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of my L-shaped desk by the wall, always keeping his eye on the entryways – just like we were trained to do by Bianchi when we were teens.
I grab my burner from the top drawer and turn on the screen to my computer, taking a seat. I immediately open the encrypted email Bianchi’s wife sent, write it down on a notepad, and the email goes blank before my eyes. That’s Francesca’s doing. She’s a ‘software developer’ and a damn good one.
I call Aleksi just as I hear the penthouse door open and close downstairs.
“Privet.”Hello, he answers.
“Aleksi, I have an address. It’s in Upstate New York. Close to the border. I have the coordinates if you’re ready.”
Sabrina and Savage enter my office, and I crook a finger at my wife, signaling for her to address me properly as I greet Aleksi. She kisses my cheek, but as she starts to turn away, I grab her by the glove and sink down a bit in my chair so she can sit on my lap. I rest one hand on her hip, the other holds the phone.
“Give me a sec, I gotta turn the stove off.”
“Put him on speaker?” my wife asks.
I oblige my wife and put the phone down face-up on my desk as we hear a bit of clattering coming from the speaker. She leans on me, while Niko’s pale blue eyes stay fixed on the wall, looking past Parker’s head. He may look like he’s dissociated, but the way he blinks and the way his brows are furrowed tells me he’s doing what he needs to pay attention to every part of his surroundings. Parker is doing the same thing, but his eyes are on my phone. He leans on the bookshelf closest to the door, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb.
“Alright, Boss, shoot me.” We hear and I rattle off the numbers.
Aleksi clears his throat. “That’s actually close to me about… seventeen miles away. Let me get my drone and get as close as I can with it. Is your screen on?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Give me a few minutes. Looks like a good night for a ride, anyway. I’ll send you a link to your email so you can see what I see through my goggles on your screen."
The email comes through with a chirp not even fifteen minutes later. Both Parker and Niko come to stand behind my wife and me. Soon, we’re looking at the inside of Aleksi’s backpack through night-vision as the huge motherfucker sets us on the ground. If my wife thinks I’m big, Aleksi is an inch taller than me and close to three hundred pounds of nothing but muscle. He’s all brawn and brains - skinny as fuck when Sasha first brought him to us, having adopted him after his half-sister had died of cancer in Moscow. Sasha had only been twenty-eight at the time. It doesn’t sound young, but when you lived life the way Sasha did, and suddenly have a ten-year-old to care for, you have to grow up real fucking fast.
Now he’s married with twins on the way, and Aleksi is twenty-one, with hacking skills that would more than impress the CIA. Luckily, he works with me.
Sabrina leans toward me, and when she turns her head, the tips of her hair tickle the top of the hand I have on her hip. It's grown so much. I'm obsessed with it. My hand leaves her hip to play with the silky strands, and it feels… comforting. Natural. “Was he at our wedding?”
I nod, twirling her hair with my fingers as she puts her elbows on the edge of my desk and leans forward to watch the screen. God, I can't wait to pull on this later.