Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Mikhail shook his head, grinning. “Radimir respects strength. And he knows you were doing it because you care about his brother. You may be the only person who can order Gennadiy Aristov to bed...and that, I think, is why you may be perfect for him.”
I flushed and looked down at my work, but I was smiling.
Mikhail’s dogs circled him impatiently, doing their best to tangle their leashes. “All of this,” Mikhail said, indicating the map. “Can you solve it?”
I sighed. “It would help a lot if I still had all the FBI’s resources. What I really need is to get into City Hall’s records to find out who owns what, but I can’t exactly summon up a court order.”
Mikhail nodded thoughtfully. “I have an idea. I will see you in an hour.” And he led his dogs away, yapping and yowling excitedly.
I hadn’t planned to stop for breakfast, but the chef looked so offended when he realized I’d been up for two hours and hadn’t eaten that I agreed to freshly-made waffles with crispy bacon and maple syrup, together with a big mug of coffee. He kept returning to refill the mug, too, so by the time Gennadiy came downstairs, I was wired.
Gennadiy came up behind me and practically lifted me out of my chair, rotating me in his arms and pulling me into a long kiss that started gentle and grateful and ended urgent and hungry. I had to come up for air before he pulled my clothes off in front of the chef. “Later,” I whispered. Then, “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” he said. There was a longing in his eyes. God, it was heartbreaking...he wanted to take that final step, to unburden himself and let the anger go, but he couldn’t. What could be worse than always being angry?
He looked at the map I had spread out, and I explained how I’d identified six areas along the waterfront Grushin could be using. “That gave ninety-seven properties. I’ve eliminated seventy-one. That leaves twenty-six possibilities.”
Gennadiy shook his head in admiration. “This is how you catch the bad guys.”
I shrugged, embarrassed but proud. “Ninety-nine percent of police work is knocking on doors and shuffling papers...but it’s what gets things done.” I yawned and stretched, which I noticed made his eyes flick straight to my chest. “But it’s not going to do us any good unless we can figure out which one of these properties Grushin owns.”
At that moment, Mikhail walked in with Valentin...and gestured to him, like, Ta da!
I blinked. “Your idea is Valentin?” I looked at my mug. “I’m sorry, I must need more coffee. I don’t get it.”
Mikhail perched on the edge of the table and grinned that infectious grin. “Men like Valentin must have a special talent. The ability to sneak in and out of places unobserved.”
“Mikhail said something about City Hall?” said Valentin helpfully.
Oh crap. That was the idea? Trespass and burglary? And when we found the place, presumably we’d be doing some breaking and entering of our own, to go along with the hacking of Grushin’s phone records. Not to mention the assassin Gennadiy shot in cold blood, the three men Valentin killed last night, and my own illegal search of Grushin’s bank account. What really worried me wasn’t even the number of laws we were breaking: it was how normal it was starting to feel. But what else could I do? I didn’t have the FBI to lean on anymore. I sighed. “Please don’t hurt anyone,” I stressed, and told him which records I needed.
Just two hours later, he was back. To my relief, he hadn’t had to use violence, just an open skylight, a phone call to draw a clerk away from her desk, and a fire alarm to cover his exit. I took the wad of files and started working through them, but Gennadiy shook his head. “I want to help,” he said seriously. “Teach me.”
So I did, showing him how to use the information in the files to trace the real owners, even when they hid behind a string of holding companies. He picked it up fast, but sometimes, when I demonstrated a technique, he’d frown. “What is it?” I asked at last.
He shook his head. “Just another thing I need to update,” he said breezily.
I froze as it hit me: I was teaching him exactly how not to get caught. My stomach flipped. Which side am I on, here? ‘Ours?’ To his credit, when I got stuck, he helped me, too, explaining a few secret criminal techniques I’d never come across. We worked well together.
It took us the entire day, but just before ten in the evening, we finally found it. An old warehouse that was owned, through a series of shell companies, by Grushin’s fake Polish identity.
“Grushin’s boat will arrive there in two hours,” said Gennadiy. “Let’s go find out what he’s smuggling.”