Page 31 of Her Darkest Possession (Baryshev Bratva #2)

INDIGO

I stand frozen in the hallway for several minutes after I watch the police cruisers disappear down the driveway.

They can't just take him like this. Not when I know he's innocent.

With renewed determination, I turn and march through the mansion toward Anatoly's office. Roma should be there, gathering evidence like Anatoly instructed.

When I push open the heavy oak door, I find Roma hunched over Anatoly's computer, fingers flying across the keyboard. With every few keystrokes, he pulls up another feed from a security camera installed on the exterior of the mansion.

"Anything I can do to help?" I ask.

Roma glances up briefly. "I'm just downloading all the security footage to give to Kaufman. Should be finished soon. But I could use another pair of eyes. Makes the whole thing go faster."

I slide into the chair beside him. "Show me what you have so far."

Roma pulls up footage from last night. There's Anatoly, stepping out of Roma's car at the front entrance a little before midnight, exactly when I saw him walk through to enjoy our Thanksgiving dinner.

"So, that shows him coming in," Roma says. "Now, I just need to get all of the cameras until this afternoon."

I nod and watch as Roma cycles through different camera angles.

The front gate, the back entrance, and the path leading towards the seaside cliffs.

He fast-forwards through the timestamps, muttering under his breath with each one and stopping at the exact time Ryan was reportedly murdered earlier today.

And not once does Anatoly ever step foot outside of the house.

The footage is undeniable.

While Ryan Bennet was being murdered across town, my husband was here, painting a nursery with me, and planning our future.

But just as I'm beginning to feel relief, another thought snakes into my mind.

"Security footage alone won't be enough to clear Anatoly."

"What do you mean?" Roma frowns.

"The security footage only proves that Anatoly didn't personally kill Ryan. But it doesn't prove that Anatoly didn't order someone to kill Ryan." I bite my lip, thinking. "We might need to provide phone records too, show that he didn't make any suspicious calls."

Roma's expression falls immediately. "Absolutely not."

"But—"

"If we hand over phone records," he cuts me off.

"We're opening a window of opportunity for the police to start combing through everything about us.

They could uncover our entire network, from informants to members to even business fronts that launder our money for us.

" He shakes his head firmly. "We can't risk that level of exposure. Not even for the pakhan"

I take a deep breath, rubbing my temple. He's right. We're going to have to find another way.

"Okay. So we look for another way." I nod slowly. "But we need another way to prove Anatoly's innocence. Tell me exactly how Ryan was killed. Maybe there's something else we can use."

"From what I've been able to get out of our people at the hospital," Roma says, rubbing his eyes, "it seems that Ryan was poisoned."

I lean forward in my chair. "Poisoned? Do you know what kind of poison it was?"

Roma shakes his head. "Not yet. Even if they find out, they're not liable to share it with us."

A cold feeling settles in my stomach as a terrible thought crosses my mind. "Roma... lilies are poisonous plants. And Anatoly had you send white lilies to Ryan, right?"

Roma freezes, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He slowly turns to look at me, his expression shifting from confusion to horror.

"You don't think..." He trails off, then sits back heavily in his chair.

"Could Ryan have poisoned himself? Maybe he knew we were coming for him eventually and.

.." Roma runs a hand through his hair and his face twisted with guilt.

"Blyat! What if I accidentally caused this?

If he ate those lilies because of what I sent—"

"Let's not jump to conclusions yet," I interrupt, placing my hand on his shoulder to keep him from spiraling. "We don't have any information that confirms Ryan's death was caused by lily poisoning. It could be something completely different."

Roma nods, but the worry doesn't leave his face.

"Do your contacts at the hospital have access to Ryan's room?" I ask. "Maybe they could find out more about the poison, or even check if our lilies are still there. That would at least tell us if they were involved."

"The room will have been cleaned out by now," Roma says. "And getting hospital security footage would be difficult, even for us. Those places are locked down tight, and our contact doesn't work in security."

I shake my head. "We don't need security footage just yet. We just need to know who else might've visited Ryan."

Roma raises an eyebrow. "How do you plan on getting that information?"

"The hospital maintains a visitor log," I explain. "Everyone who visits a patient has to sign in at the front desk. It's standard procedure."

"And you think this log would tell us the truth?"

"It'll tell us something. And we have to start somewhere." I lean forward, feeling a spark of hope for the first time since Anatoly was taken away. "Roma, who's your contact at the hospital?"

"Dr. Espina," Roma replies. "But she was already taking a huge risk just telling me about Ryan's death. The hospital's crawling with police right now, and there are news vans parked outside. It's turning into a media circus in there."

I freeze, recognition washing over me. "Jocelyn Espina?"

Roma looks surprised. "You know her?"

"She was my doctor when I was admitted to St. Barnabas after I escaped from Grisha." My mind races back to that day, how Dr. Espina helped reassure me when I was terrified about my baby's safety after Lola tried to force that pill down my throat.

Dr. Espina is our informant?

But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. She had hesitated for a moment when I gave her my name as Indigo Baryshev.

And after Anatoly threw Ryan through that window, it would also make sense that they take him to St. Barnabas in the first place.

But more importantly, she knows who I am.

That's when an idea enters into my mind.

"What if I talk to Dr. Espina?"

Roma looks at me skeptically. "How would that help?"

"There's nothing suspicious about a pregnant woman asking about her pregnancy based on her family's medical history.

" The idea starts gaining momentum in my mind.

"It's completely natural for me to have questions about hereditary conditions, risk factors, complications, and just general questions about cramps and nausea during pregnancy.

.. women ask these things all the time."

"That's true." Roma's expression shifts from skepticism to consideration. "It's not a bad idea. And if she's pressed by anyone nearby."

"She can cite patient-doctor confidentiality," I finish for him. "This is worth a shot."

"Okay." He nods. "How do you want to approach this?"

I take a deep breath and start thinking through our next steps.

"Roma, if it is a Volkov man who killed Ryan, what exactly should we be looking for?"

Roma leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "Tattoos, for one thing. Very distinctive. The Volkov bratva has specific markings. Sometimes wolves on the forearms."

"Would these be visible to hospital staff?" I ask.

"Probably not. If Ryan's killer was careless or didn't need to hide his affiliation. But for such a high profile hit…"

"So, probably not something we can look for."

"Probably not."

"What else? Something that Dr. Espina might be able to notice?"

"The Volkovs are traditionalists." Roma scratches his chin. "Much more than we are. They only allow Russians into their inner circle."

I raise an eyebrow. "So any Russian man visiting Ryan would be suspicious?"

"Exactly. Taras is obsessive about keeping his bratva pure Russian, even though I'm pretty sure half his family came from Belarus." Roma nods thoughtfully. "So if we can get a list of visitors with Russian names, that might narrow things down significantly."

"That can work," I say, feeling more confident about our plan. "I think Dr. Espina will be able to share that kind of information, especially if I frame it the right way."

Roma hands me his phone. "Her direct line is saved in my contacts. Tell her I sent you."

I take the phone and dial the number, my heart racing slightly as I wait for her to answer. After three rings, I hear her professional voice.

"Dr. Espina speaking."

"Dr. Espina? This is Indigo Baryshev. We met at St. Barnabas when I was brought in a few weeks ago. I believe you know my husband's brother, Roma?"

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and I can almost feel her processing this unexpected call.

"Mrs. Baryshev. Yes, of course I remember you. How can I help you today?"

"Dr. Espina, I need you to listen carefully and please don't respond until I'm finished," I say in a low, urgent voice. "My husband has been arrested for a crime he did not commit. And we think you can help us clear his name."

I take a deep breath before continuing. "Roma told me that the Volkov bratva only allows Russians into their inner circle. We need to know if there were any Russian names on Ryan's visitor log from the hospital."

I glance at Roma, who nods encouragingly.

"Here's what I'm proposing: I'll ask you about my 'pregnancy concerns' while you look at the list of visitors to Ryan Bennet's room.

We'll use code words. If you find Russian names on the visitor log, mention 'cramps.

' For non-Russian names, say 'nausea.' The number of relatives who supposedly suffered from these symptoms will tell me how many names you found.

And if we discuss any Russian visitors specifically, refer to them as Anatoly's distant uncles. "

My heart pounds as I wait for her response. The silence stretches so long I wonder if she's hung up.

Finally, Dr. Espina speaks. "I understand your situation, Mrs. Baryshev. I can access that information, but I'll need some time. I'll call you back when I have what you need."

"Thank you," I whisper, relief washing through me. "This means everything to us."

"Of course. I'll be in touch soon," she says before ending the call.

I set the phone down and look at Roma, a flicker of hope sparking within me. "Now, we wait."