Page 26

Chapter 25

Daylight's burning

Big Al

O n today’s episode of new developments surprising nobody , it turns out there’s no record of anyone named Katia Bugrov living in the state of Florida.

Not now.

And not even a few years ago when Leo’s friend West worked for the cartel and interacted with her.

As we all suspected from the moment we saw the name on the board, it’s an alias Katia Sergeyevich used when doing business on behalf of Lenkov. Or on behalf of her father, the architect—Alexei Bugrov. Given she used his fake last name, I’m inclined to believe it’s the latter.

We already know Alexei is part of the bratva. He’s trying to take it down from within. It’s impossible to think he’s kept his hands clean for however long he’s been intertwined with Lenkov.

But who the fuck is he?

Why does he want to take down Lenkov?

More importantly, how do we convince him to meet with us or at least drop the bullshit riddles? He must realize we could finish this far more efficiently if he cooperated with us.

Mia raises her hand, cutting off the discussion around the conference room table. “Honest question here. Are we planning to obsess to this extent over every single communication we have with this man? I’d like to manage my expectations for productivity. At this rate, I’ll be in a retirement home before Lenkov is taken down. Tomer and Lettie’s children will have taken over for us all.”

Her sarcastic reminder of Lettie’s pregnancy news brings a swirling of excitement into my chest. I didn’t have a chance to see Lettie as an infant or a toddler. Or even a precocious young girl. But I’ll know my grandchild.

Fluffy feelings aside, Mia’s point stands, though. And it’s valid as fuck.

She’s typed and backspaced for the better part of twenty minutes while she, Shep, Tomer, Klein, and I debated our reply. The back and forth with the architect is causing a rapidly accelerating descent into madness. His riddles are exhausting.

This morning, he replied to our recent email asking which of Lenkov’s crime rings we should focus on next. With so many columns still on our whiteboard, we were hoping he’d guide us into a specific area in the interest of efficiency.

His reply makes me want to kick him in the taint with freshly sharpened blades strapped to the toe of my boot.

Of course, we’ve been careful to use the code names he gave us through his friend Yuri’s Greek Mythology story. In our earlier email, we referred to the bratva as the labyrinth and Lenkov as King Minos. In our past dealings with him, he avoided communicating in plain language, which leads us to believe he doesn’t fully trust that his communications are secure.

From what we can tell, he’s systematically working to remove himself from the bratva one arm at a time so he doesn’t go down with the ship. Once he’s freed of a particular part of the organization, he’ll provide intel to help us along the way. We assume there’s only so much he can feed us without drawing notice.

Klein flops his hands on the table in defeat. “Will you read me Alexei’s message again?”

“Ask nicely,” Mia taunts.

“Please, tiger. It’s the least you could do since you’re bogarting the shared email account we’re using to communicate with this fuckface.”

Without further snark, she clears her throat and complies with his request. “Greetings, friends. I hear congratulations are in order, especially to one of you in particular. Exterminating vermin like that was a great service to the community. Not only are they repulsive, but they carry diseases that can harm the most vulnerable among us, such as mothers-to-be and our own children. And aren’t they the most precious to us all? Imagine something harming the ones we hold so dear. If it happened to me, I’d be hard-pressed to forget it. It seems I’m not alone in that regard, judging by your recent activities. I’ll endeavor to free myself of my current obligations so I may be of assistance to you as you continue cleaning the city we love so dearly.”

Mia pauses and glides her gaze around the table. “Keep going?”

A few of us nod. The message was so lengthy this time it’s hard to keep it all straight. Again, my boot craves fresh taint meat.

“Okay, so the next paragraph seems to divert to a new topic.” With a shrug, she continues. “Have you read anything interesting lately? I’m always on the hunt for new literature. In my day, books were made of paper and ink. Now, they’re often read on devices. I find it better to hold the paper in my hands. The weight of the words is more profound, and doing so allows me to see things in a new light.”

“And no closing signature this time,” Tomer adds.

Shep drags his palm over his head roughly. “Are we sure this isn’t Yuri fucking with us? This shit has his name written all over it. The theatrics. The riddles. The nonanswers. It’s straight out of his fucking playbook.”

I crick my neck and throw an arched brow at him. “Weren’t you the one who spoke with Yuri about Alexei?”

He nods slowly, sticking his open palm out in front of him. “I know. I know. But you have to admit how similar to his MO this all is. Right?”

“No lies detected,” Klein utters.

Tomer waves his hand in an awkward look-at-me gesture. “I know I’m gonna sound like a broken record, but I think focusing on Alexei is the wrong priority. We need to find out more about Katia.”

Shep rolls his shoulders and his eyes in an equal flourish. “Tomer and his hard-on for busting Katia strike again.”

“You’re right, T,” I start, intentionally being unclear.

Tomer dips his chin toward his chest. “Thank you.”

“You didn’t let me finish. You’re right in that you do, in fact, sound like a broken record.”

Mia chuffs out a quiet laugh. “Boss has jokes today.”

“He seems happier too,” Klein muses.

“Of course he’s happier. He’s got his entire family under one roof.” Shep points to the ceiling. “This one.”

Speaking of my family...

Lettie intentionally clears her throat from the doorway to capture our attention. “Hey, y’all.”

Tomer waves her into the conference room. “Hey, sugar. What’s up?”

A vibrant grin dances from one side of her face to the next. She flings her thumb over her shoulder toward her desk. “I have Detective Salgado on the line. She asked for whoever was available the soonest.”

“Transfer the call in here.” Remembering Maddie’s advice, I tack on some manners. “Please.”

She nods and does a half curtsy. Adorable. “I shall jolly well endeavor to do that, Boss Dad.” As she turns to leave, she adds, “Assuming I can figure out how.”

“I programmed a speed dial button on that phone for this room, Lettie,” Klein hollers after her.

“Thank you,” she tosses right before closing the door.

“Those manners,” Tomer mumbles to himself, a grin creeping up his cheek.

Why the hell is he always commenting on her manners?

Scratch that. I don’t want to know.

The phone rings a few seconds later.

I tap the button, putting her on speaker. “What’s up, Salgado?”

“Oops. Still me.” Lettie giggles nervously. “I’ll hit the transfer button thing now. My bad.”

Tomer tries to hide his grin with his palm.

I don’t bother hiding mine. “You’re good, kid.”

Two beeps from the speaker signal the transfer. “Salgado, you there?”

“Yep. Sounds like I’m on speaker. Who’s with you?”

Gotta admire her directness.

“With me, I’ve got Tomer, Klein, and Mia, who you already know. And another one of my top guys, Shepherd Collins. We call him Shep.”

“Inner circle?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone.

“You can speak freely,” Tomer answers. “Shep’s read into everything.”

“Right. I still can’t believe I’m calling you for this, but here it goes.” She pauses for a drawn-out breath. “What do you know about my partner?”

I glance around the table, met with gaping jaws and wide eyes.

“Patterson?” Klein asks, one eye blinking rapidly.

Devoid of all traces of humor, she teases, “He’s my partner, isn’t he?”

Tomer leans closer to the speakerphone. “I know some about him, but please elaborate.”

“This is regarding the information you’ve been funneling to us.” The line silences for an even longer pause before she continues. “Normally, I perform my due diligence and then pass it off to him. As lead on the case, he’s the one who floats it up the chain and disburses it as needed.”

We already know this.

Rather than Redleg sending our evidence, findings, and intel straight to the FBI or related parties for official action, we’ve been providing it to Patterson and Salgado. They do whatever they need to do with it before pushing it through appropriate channels. In some instances, they make the arrests themselves. In others, our intel is added to a growing state or federal case against Lenkov and his associates. Keeps Redleg out of it to a certain extent and allows the law enforcement branches to partner as they’re supposed to do.

“We follow you so far, Salgado,” Mia encourages gently.

“Patterson missed a few days of work last week unexpectedly, which is odd for him. While he was gone, I attempted to take over to keep the ship afloat.”

Growing irritated with her slower-than-molasses pace, I try to hurry her along. “And then?”

“Well, I reviewed what he forwarded to the FBI in our last batch so I didn’t duplicate what was already sent. And, um...”

Her frequent pauses aren’t typical. She’s either being incredibly careful with her word choice or is conflicted about what she’s sharing with us.

My intuition twitches faintly in my gut. Is it because I don’t believe her or because what she tells us could put her in danger?

I can’t figure that out until she explains, so I bark out, “Get to the point, Salgado. Daylight’s burning.”

She doesn’t continue right away, just a sigh-hum hybrid. My hand balls into a fist, and my jaw clicks. Judging by the body language of my team, they’re all feeling a similar sense of exasperation.

Hell, if Mia could jump through the phone and smack the point out of the detective, she’d probably do it. “Is she part snail or sloth?” Mia whispers through gritted teeth.

Tomer reaches across the table to mute the call. “She’s never like this. One of the reasons I respect her so much is her directness. Something is off here.”

Mia pinches the bridge of her nose. “This call is making me strongly consider sprinkling Valium in my coffee.”

Tomer releases the mute button.

“As you can probably tell, I’m conflicted about suggesting impropriety. But here goes. I need to get this out before he returns from the restroom,” Salgado finally admits, confirming Tomer’s observation. “Some of the evidence and data he forwarded to the bureau differed from what I gave him. There were names missing. Entire documents gone. Deleted phone records and bank statements. Shit like that. I’m worried about what I’m stepping into here, if you get me.”

With her suspicions finally voiced, everything crystallizes in my mind. “When was the first day Patterson missed work?”

“Two days after Viktor Lenkov was killed.”

Klein’s eyes shoot wide, bright white framing the brown. “Ah. That’s coincidental.”

Tomer asks, “Is it safe to assume you haven’t discussed this with Patterson?”

“You’re the only ones I’ve spoken to about it. I’m already a target for the bratva by working this case and partnering with you. If he’s in bed with Lenkov and I confront him about it, I’m as good as dead. If I play along like a clueless chump, I’m safer.”

“We’ll handle it,” I announce. “Sit on it for now. Anything else we need to know?”

Tasks are piling up in my head the way they tend to do when we’ve got to divide and conquer.

“Nothing with him. But I ran the list of people you gave me through the FDLE database, and the chief cleared me to share my findings with you. Expect an email in the next few minutes.”

“We appreciate that,” Mia tells her. “Any standouts?”

“A few. I highlighted them for you. Gotta run now. Good luck.”

And she’s gone.

Mind reeling, I aggressively mash the disconnect button on the phone display three times to ensure the line is dead. Then I dial Lettie.

She answers, as cheery as a freaking triple rainbow. “Howdy, conference room peeps. What can I do ya for?”

Despite my need to sling out assignments like ninja throwing stars, I remember my manners. “Lettie, can you please set up a meeting with the CPD chief for me? He usually does evenings. As soon as possible.”

“On it, Boss Dad. Is there a topic I should mention?”

“No, I want him surprised.”

“Intriguing and mysterious. I like it. Anything else?”

“Yes.” Tomer’s frame suddenly stiffens like he took ten thousand jolts to the nut sack. “Sugar, can you print out five copies of the list of seventy-two and bring them in here?”

“Anything for you, babe,” she drawls.

My finger hovers over the disconnect button. “That’s all for now, Lettie.” I end the call with repeated firm taps, my frustration seeping out through the tip of my finger into the damn phone.

Sooner or later, I knew my natural tendency to hurry everyone the fuck up would return. Maddie’s influence can only go so far when lives are on the line, and I’m chomping at the bit.

“Rapid-fire assignments. Get ready, kids,” I warn them. “Where there’s smoke, there’s a dirty fucking cop. And we’re gonna run this one into the ground.”

I face my future son-in-law. Most likely. “T, refresh the research you did on him when he was assigned to be our liaison, looking for anything you missed or new things we should consider. If he’s working with them, he might be getting paid. Look for unusual banking activity. Any large purchases or luxuries. Something to show a surge in his cash flow. Let’s also find out if he’s a gambler. If so, he might be in debt to Lenkov. If he’s not being paid, maybe he’s being blackmailed. We need to know his weaknesses.”

“Got it,” he responds crisply. “For the record, I’ve never liked the man.”

I sweep my pointer finger toward Mia. “While he’s doing that, I want you to take the lead on the email Salgado’s sending us.”

“Her analysis of the list?” Mia confirms.

“Yeah. The architect gave us that list for a reason, and it’s taking too long for us to figure out why. Compare whatever the detective has highlighted to what you’ve already uncovered in your financial research. Summarize anything of note for our next update. We’re still unsure whether those are strictly customers of the trafficking organization or Lenkov’s business associates. I want those answers like yesterday.”

Redirecting to Klein, I barely take a breath. “Call Patterson for a routine check-in like you’ve been doing. See if you get any sketchy vibes from him during the convo. Anything to corroborate or refute Salgado’s hunch. We can’t automatically trust her either.”

Tomer’s intelligent gaze flickers between the rest of us. “Are we all thinking the same thing regarding the timing of Patterson’s absence from work?”

I suspect we are, and I’m about to say as much when Mia beats me to the punch.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I bet Lenkov hauled him in to punish him for letting us take out Viktor. He probably sent him back with a very specific job to do. Otherwise, he’d be dead.”

Her musings align with mine, so I look at Klein and add, “Speaking of Patterson’s work. Comb through our past dealings with him, identifying intel we’ve shared back and forth. I recognize it’ll be a hefty list, but I’m wondering if we can pinpoint anything we thought would turn out one way but then went another. Something that should have been an open-and-shut case until we gave it to him, and then it fizzled. We would have taken it at face value, but perhaps we need to second-guess anything he’s ever given us. Partner with Tomer and Mia on that as needed. If we have any proof that he’s dirty, I can take it to the chief.”

Klein scoffs and shakes his head. “Things that have fizzled out? Like the entire Franco Financial case? Somehow Nikolai’s been untouchable there. Only underlings have gone down thus far, which is total bullshit considering what we had on him.”

I snap my fingers at him. “Exactly. Now that we suspect him, perhaps we’ll be able to see something we missed before.”

A hint of foreboding gives me pause before I face Shep. I hate sending him into the lion’s den. But we gotta do what we gotta do.

“You know what’s coming, don’t you?”

“Fucking hell.” He lets his head loll around in a mix of genuine and sarcastic dramatics. “Let me guess. Go see Yuri again?”

Klein quirks his head. “Will he even see you after how you and Jonesy treated him last time?”

“I’ve seen him once since then. He was pissed, but he talked.”

A flash of awareness crosses Klein’s face. “Oh yeah, that’s right. When you asked him if he knew Alexei.”

Resigned to his miserable fate, Shep asks, “Am I feeling him out in general, Boss? Or do you have specific questions in mind?”

“A little of both. Find out what he knows about CPD, keeping Patterson’s name out of it. Ask if he trusts Katia and explore that relationship more. I’d like to know if he’s heard from Savin and Tasha. If they’re part of this family of his, he might know where they are. And while I don’t want to put them in Lenkov’s sights, we could use Savin as a witness to make some of these charges ironclad.”

He takes notes, nodding along as I ramble.

“Additionally, since the architect’s latest email doesn’t point to the next arm of the mafia he wants to take down, see if Yuri knows what’s next—drugs, guns, financial shit, cyber, or something else. It’ll be faster if we’re already heading there by the time he gets around to whatever the fuck he’s planning. And for fuck’s sake, ask Yuri again if he’s fucking around with us via this Alexei character. I agree with you about these riddles. They’re totally his style, and it’s pissing me the hell off.”

“Same,” Tomer grumbles under his breath.

With frustration mounting, I press my fingertip firmly into the table, hard enough to make the flesh blanch. “Tell Yuri I want a meeting with Alexei. Not just an email. Not a fucking phone call either. I want to meet him in person. Don’t care where, when, or how. Enough bullshit. I appreciate what he’s trying to do, but this is gonna take forever at this rate. Fuck that.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you?” Shep inhales deeply, holding his breath for a beat before expelling it forcibly. “I’ll see what I can do. Can I take Sawyer with me? Or Lionheart?”

“Don’t care. Whoever is free. Just be safe.” I crick my head to the side, eyes flicking to the ceiling. “Actually, take a third.”

“I’ll try to make it happen today or tonight, Boss.”

“On second thought.” I pause, flicking my gaze to the ceiling. “Hold up on that visit for a day or two. Let’s see what the intel team finds first. You might be able to use what they find to steer your questions or put the screws to him.”

Shep’s smile turns fiendish. “Heard.” He scratches his pen over his notepad, pretending that he’s writing down what he says. “Delay meeting with the shit bag. Consider it done.”

I fold my hands in front of me and address them collectively. “As for me, I plan to ask the chief why he assigned Patterson to us out of all his detectives. Maybe I’ll catch something I missed in past meetings. Put my damn gut to use. I’ll make up some other bullshit to explain the meeting request. An update on our findings or to talk about Katia to make it seem more natural. I also want to ask what he knows about Undersheriff Dempsey.”

“Do you suspect the chief is involved too?” Mia asks.

“He hand-picked Patterson for us.” I shrug, clicking my tongue. “I trust no one at this point.”

I’ve met with the chief enough times that I should have noticed if he was up to something.

My eyes scan the faces of my team, landing on Tomer’s.

If he could lie to me for so long, maybe my gut isn’t as reliable as I thought.

“Might I do some poking around?” she asks, her shoulders raised and chin lowered to feign innocence.

Ha . That’s a laugh.

“Not yet.”

She harrumphs.

“Speaking of you being shady as fuck, what did you find out about the read receipts with the mayor and Dempsey?”

“Boss, I’m flattered you think so highly of me.” She shimmies her shoulders and grins deviously, not the least bit offended by my comments. If anything, she’s proud. “Nothing in their emails tying them together, which makes sense. People tend not to broadcast their corruption in their official accounts. However, the mayor’s calendar shows multiple meetings with Dempsey. And another one I found quite interesting.”

She pauses for emphasis, drawing groans of impatience for the entire room. “He met with the one and only Huxley Bowen from the Miami Port Authority about two months ago.”

My fist pounds the table. “Something else telling us the mayor is involved. Both Dempsey and Bowen were on the list of seventy-two. And the mayor has past meetings with them.” Tension sets into my shoulders. “I want to know more about this fucking list. What the fuck did he give it to us for? Let’s finish that damn email reply and ask him.”

“Let me ramble for a bit. Indulge me.” Mia rolls her hand in a circular gesture. “The architect originally said he was sending the list to us to help pull down one of the clouds. He said he couldn’t fly free until the sun set and all that shit. So we assumed the list from Katia was meant to take down the trafficking ring. That was the first cloud he could let us pull down without him being incriminated.”

Klein nods slowly. “Right. But what if it’s not that ring?”

“Exactly. We assumed it was, and when Lettie saw names she recognized as potential customers, it confirmed our bias. However, the list might be for us to take down something else entirely. Or someone else.”

“Huxley Bowen?” Tomer muses. “He’s come up enough times. His hands are in everything.”

“Perhaps.” Mia shrugs noncommittally. “Or maybe it’s a different ring, and there happens to be crossover with customers who visited the trafficking house. These are disgusting humans, so partaking in one crime doesn’t preclude them from others.”

Shep pipes in, excitement layering his tone. “Based on info Yuri’s shared with me previously, we know Lenkov loves his little insurance policies to keep people in line. Making his business partners into users of his trafficking services would give him something to hang over their heads.”

“And Yev told us Viktor and Katia recorded those assaults for later use.” Tomer grimaces, probably at the memory invoked by the topic. Mine does the same. Poor Lettie.

“Did he say Katia , though?” Mia asks, returning to the mantle of Katia’s biggest supporter.

Tomer counters. “I can’t recall word-for-word, but if he didn’t say it, he certainly implied it.”

These two get along like siblings. Thick as thieves one minute. Crawling under the other’s skin in the next.

I remember those days.

Daniel.

My heart squeezes painfully.

I smack the table, stopping this before it goes off the rails again. “Focus, kids.”

Everyone jerks to attention, heads whipping in my direction.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, I order, “Let’s type out that email reply now.”

“As requested, I’ve got copies,” Lettie announces, breezing into the room.

Again, I’m fucking interrupted.

Mia’s right. We may never send this damn email.

Lettie passes them out to us, flashing a flirty wink at Tomer. I try not to roll my eyes or groan audibly.

And I almost succeed.

This might be the only time I’ll ever feel grateful I wasn’t able to raise her. If I had, I’d probably be nauseated by how lovey-dovey they always are.

However, seeing my daughter happy with the man I consider a son does bring a smile to my face. After the indigestion passes.

Klein straightens his pages, tapping them on the table. “Why did you want these printed, T?”

“Something struck me about the architect’s weird message. He said he preferred paper to digital reading. Perhaps he was talking about the files he sent us. If so, maybe we’ll see something here we couldn’t view on our monitors.”

Everyone’s eyes fall to the pages, searching for a hidden message.

Lettie lingers beside Tomer, putting her hand on the back of his chair. “I don’t mean to butt in where I wasn’t invited, but may I share something?” She looks to me for approval to continue.

“Go ahead,” I instruct her, adding a warm smile.

“Boss, you don’t smile at us that way,” Shep whines, his lips rolling into a pout. “I’m starting to feel like you like her better.”

Tomer flashes a snarky grin at Shep. “Everyone likes her more than they like you, Shep.”

I groan and give them both a glare. “Lettie, you were saying?”

“Well, the reason it took me a while to bring y’all the copies is ’cause I thought there was a problem with my printer. There are these faint little marks. So I sent it to another printer. Same thing.”

“What little marks, sugar bear?” Tomer asks her, lifting the first page closer to his face.

“I see them too,” Klein chimes in.

“Here, right?” Mia asks her, pointing at tiny light gray specs under each name.

Lettie nods eagerly. “Yeah. So maybe he wanted you to print it out so you’d see them.”

Mia jumps up, bolting across the room with the pages in hand. Moving like a machine, she shoves the window shades to the side and presses one of the papers flat against the window.

“What are you doing, tiger?” Klein asks.

“Reading it in a new light ,” she mutters. “There’s definitely a message here. I see a B and a C . Or is that an E ? Damn, it’s small. Anyone have a magnifying glass?”

“I’ll take a picture of it and zoom in,” Tomer suggests.

Smart.

We all stride over, quickly huddling around her. Tomer snaps a photo and then increases the magnification. His lips move silently.

Shep smacks him lightly on the back of his head. “Read it out loud, fuckface.”

Tomer’s cheeks fade to a grayish pale. “Sorry. It’s a warning.” His already flat voice loses all emotion as he reads it aloud. “Be careful who you share this list with. Trust is in short supply these days.”

“That’s it?” Mia huffs, crossing her arms at her chest. “Because no fucking doy, Alexei.”

“Hold up the next page to the light,” I order her, pointing to the window.

We repeat the process.

This time, Tomer reads a series of numbers. “Write these down for us, sugar bear.” He points at the small grease board in the corner and reads the numbers aloud while Lettie jots them down.

Shep hands Mia the third page. “Might as well get them all.”

The final message Tomer reads is cryptic enough to make a lead brick sink in my gut.

“This list must be exposed. Once you do, they’ll come back to finish the job. Next time, they won’t miss. Protect your loved ones. They know you’re getting close, and they’re watching you all.”