Page 64 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)

KOVAN

“Forgive me, detective, but I’m not sure why you’re here at all.”

SFPD Detective Maverick Channing flashes me a smile designed to inspire confidence. Too bad I’ve spent my entire life not trusting cops, and this budget-bin Columbo isn’t about to change my mind.

“Listen, Mr. Krayev, you’re a respected member of the community, a successful businessman, and a generous philanthropist. I’m on your side here.”

I lead him through the warehouse he’s decided to invade, keeping my face neutral. “Funny way of showing support—raiding my property with half the department.”

“We received an anonymous tip about illegal weapons storage,” he explains for the dozenth time. “Standard procedure requires us to investigate all credible threats to public safety.”

“Of course. But you’re still on my side.”

He doesn’t catch my sarcasm. “Absolutely.” He gestures around the space. “I’m confident there’s nothing illegal happening here. Which is why I see no reason we can’t take a quick look around.” His smile widens. “Unless you’d prefer I return with a search warrant…?”

He thinks I’ll fall for a rookie trap like that? He’s even dumber than I suspected.

The warrant is already printed and folded in his back pocket—I can see the corner sticking out. He’s waiting for me to demand to lawyer up because he assumes I need time to hide evidence.

But his strategy has two fatal flaws.

One—I’m considerably smarter than he’s giving me credit for.

Two—I relocated every illegal item from this warehouse six months ago in preparation for exactly this scenario.

Ihor can sic every detective in California on me. They’ll find nothing but legitimate business inventory.

“No warrant necessary, detective. Search to your heart’s content.” I gesture magnanimously toward the warehouse floor. “I have absolutely nothing to hide.”

His confidence falters. This isn’t the panicked reaction he was hoping for from a guilty man. He snaps his fingers at his team and barks, “Spread out. Search every corner, every crate, every shadow. If there’s contraband here, we will find it.”

Knock yourselves out, boys.

I step outside where Pavel and Osip are waiting beside our cars, both looking tense but ready. The warehouse contains nothing but high-end electronics, computer components, and automotive parts. Expensive but entirely legal merchandise.

“Underground storage sealed?” I ask quietly.

“Welded shut and painted over,” Osip confirms. “They’d need blueprints and jackhammers to find the hidden levels now. Ihor’s anonymous tip just wasted everyone’s time.”

I retrieve my phone, which I’d silenced when Detective Channing arrived with his search party. The screen lights up with notifications that make my stomach drop.

Fifteen missed calls from Shura’s team guarding Vesper. Eight from Mikhail’s unit protecting Luka. Three more from Cordingly Prep.

Something is very, very wrong.

“What happened?” Pavel steps closer, reading my expression.

“Multiple security teams have been trying to reach me. Pavel, call Mikhail immediately. Find out why Luka’s protection detail has been calling nonstop.”

“Why don’t you call them yourself?”

“Because I’m calling Shura first.” I hit redial on Vesper’s head of security. “Fifteen missed calls from her bodyguards.”

The last thing I need is a crisis while Detective Channing is documenting my every move. But I turn away from the warehouse and pray Shura picks up quickly.

“Boss!” The relief in his tone is unmistakable. “Finally. We have a major problem.”

“Is my wife injured?” I keep my voice low but urgent.

“She gave us the slip, sir.”

I’m going to crush this phone in my grip. “Explain that.”

“She finished her meeting with Lovell around eleven. Came out looking shaken, told us she was cutting her day short. Efim was retrieving the vehicle when she announced she needed to use the ladies’ restroom urgently.”

The pieces are already falling into place in my mind.

“I swept the inside to clear it, then positioned myself outside the restroom door. Protocol for public facilities. But she was taking considerably longer than normal, so I became concerned about her wellbeing.”

“How long did you wait?”

“Seven minutes before I?—”

“Seven fucking minutes?” I can barely keep from shouting. “You gave her seven minutes unmonitored?”

“She specifically mentioned feminine issues, boss. Said it might take a while to sort out.”

“She manipulated you, mudak . Told you exactly what you needed to hear to give her maximum time to disappear.”

“Yes, sir. I realize that now.” His embarrassment is obvious. “When I finally entered the restroom, she was gone. Escaped through a rear window that opens onto the fire escape.”

I massage my temples, fighting a growing headache. “What did she take with her?”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“What was she carrying when she entered that restroom?”

“Her handbag. Plus that black leather case with her initials—the one you gave her this morning.”

“Continue searching. Contact me immediately if you discover anything.”

I end the call and face Pavel, who’s just finishing his own conversation. The grim set of his features tells me Luka’s situation is equally catastrophic.

“Let me guess,” I say. “Our nephew has vanished.”

“Completely.” Pavel pockets his phone. “After his physical education class ended, he went into the locker room to change back into school clothes. Mikhail waited outside per standard protocol.”

“And?”

“Twenty minutes passed. Mikhail entered the locker room and found it empty. Luka’s gear was still in his locker, but he was gone.”

“Security cameras?”

“Allegedly, down for maintenance.” Pavel’s expression darkens. “Mikhail thinks the timing was suspiciously convenient.”

“Ihor orchestrated this.”

“Obviously,” Osip agrees. “Grabs the kid first, then uses him to lure Vesper into whatever trap he’s prepared.”

I can see the entire sequence of events playing out. Vesper receives a threatening message about Luka’s safety. Her protective instincts override her common sense. She abandons her security team and runs directly toward danger.

“Ihor has both of them now,” I conclude.

“What’s our move?” Pavel asks.

“We locate them before Ihor determines they?—”

“Is there a problem, gentleman?” Detective Channing walks forward, watching us shrewdly. “Looks like you’re all worked up over something.”

“My son’s sick,” I say as calmly as I can. I have to do my best to keep a lid on my emotions. If I look like I’m rushing off to put out a fire, I’m just going to make the man more suspicious. “I need to go pick him up from school.”

“A sick son, huh? Unfortunate. Doesn’t he have a mother?”

“I’m not about to disturb my wife on her first day back at work,” I grit, resisting the urge to punch the fucker in the face. “So, detective, tell me: did you find what you were looking for?”

His smile sours. “No. The warehouse is clean.”

“Because your anonymous tip off was probably a practical joke. I’m sorry you fell for it. Maybe next time, you’ll be smarter.”

He scowls. “This isn’t over, Mr. Krayev. I know you’re hiding something and I’m going to find out what.”

“And here I was, thinking you were on my side.”

I give him a wave as he storms away from us, taking his men with him. I stand there, the picture of calm as they drive away.

Every second that ticks by makes me want to pull my hair out. The moment the last police vehicle disappears down the road, I run to my car.

Osip and Pavel follow behind me. “Brother, we need to find out where they are first,” Pavel reminds me, jumping into the passenger seat beside me. “That will take time.”

“No, it won’t,” I insist, turning the engine on and stomping on the accelerator. “Call in a team. I want backup ready if we need it.”

“We don’t even know where Ihor is keeping them,” Pavel insists.

“I do,” I mutter as we pick up speed. “I know exactly where they are.”