Crossing the Line (23 page)

What really bothered him was Viktor acting like he was doing him a fucking favor, showing him how to sort out problems. Valentina had crossed Viktor and disappeared. Aleksei hadn’t asked questions. He wasn’t sure whether he regretted telling Viktor the names of the men who’d raped Katya. He hadn’t thought Victor would send Kirill. He shuddered.

Finally the boat was pristine. He’d sprayed the deck with cleaning fluid—not very eco-friendly in a marina, but necessary in case the boat was ever checked by crime scene technicians. Hopefully, he wouldn’t think about what had happened every time he took the craft out.

Maybe he’d sell it.

Katya huddled white and silent. He hadn’t felt like talking either. She was shivering though it was still over ninety in the shade.

They were out of the marina before she spoke. “Does Kirill do all Petrenko’s dirty work?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because if I see him again, I’ll know to run fast in the opposite direction.”

He worried she couldn’t run fast enough.

Katya insisted on working the next day and Aleksei begrudgingly dropped her off at the university. She’d spent the previous evening curled up on the couch in his arms. He seemed as shocked about what happened as her. Was it unreasonable to have expected him to do something? He had a gun. He could have tried. Yet she’d not done anything either. She was just as guilty. Anna’s family wouldn’t even know she was dead.

By lunchtime, her nerves were in tatters. When she was handed a message from the office asking her to call a number she recognized, she almost ignored it but was intrigued to know what Ethan wanted, plus she needed to warn him of what she’d told Aleksei. She didn’t use her cell phone. For all she knew, Aleksei was monitoring who she called.

“Hello?” Ethan said.

“It’s me, Katya. You left a message.”

“Hey, thanks for calling me back. I wanted to take you for coffee. Can I meet you at the food court?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.

“Where do you live?”

There was no hesitation before he told her. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll get a cab.”

She cut through several buildings to reach the point that cabs congregated, hoping Park wasn’t watching her. But even as she traveled to Ethan’s, she wondered what she was doing. Maybe giving herself a last chance.

But by the time she walked up his path toward the door, she’d decided she’d made a mistake. He already knew too much about her. But the broad smile on his face when he opened the door lightened her heart. Maybe this ordinary man could make her world turn again. She slipped inside and put her violin down in the hall.

“Coffee or ice-cream? I stopped for a tub of vanilla, just in case.”

“I can’t say no to ice-cream.”

The only items in his living room were a couch and TV. No ornaments. No photographs. A poor version of Aleksei’s place, but he’d only just arrived. Maybe he hadn’t had time to make it home. There were no signs of a wife and kids.

“Come and have a seat.” Ethan handed her a bowl.

“Thank you.”

She rolled a spoonful of ice cream around her mouth.
Am I making a mistake?
What was she hoping for in saying anything? That he’d go to the police? Then what would happen? Aleksei would be arrested. Her heart pounded.

“I get the feeling you didn’t come for the ice-cream and my sparkling conversation. If you’re in trouble, maybe I can help.”

“Then you’ll be in trouble too.”

“I can handle it.”

He couldn’t. Guilt clawed at her heart, but there was one thing she
had
to tell him. “I had to tell someone you were a violin teacher.”

“What? Who? Why did you say that?”

She put the bowl on the floor, the ice cream no longer sweet.

“What’s wrong?” Ethan took her hand and she pulled away. “Why did you come?”

She stared at him. “I’m in trouble and I might have got you into trouble too.”

“Can you go to the police?”

“No.”

“Because you don’t trust them? Miami isn’t like Moscow.”

She studied him for a moment, and then blurted, “Can I stay here?”

“Yes.”

She loved that he didn’t hesitate and breathing became easier. “No matter what I tell you?”

“No matter what you tell me.”

Another world opened up like a summer flower, bright and full of promise. She could go back to Moscow. Forget Petrenko. Forget Aleksei. Pretend this was all a bad dream.
Tell him one thing as a test. See if he’s another liar.

“You remember I told you about Anna? Yesterday I watched her get used as bait for a shark.”

Ethan’s jaw dropped.

“They pushed a hook through her body and threw her in the water.”

“Christ.”

“There’s no point going to the police. There’s nothing they can do. There’s no body. No one will talk. They watched, laughed. Not the man who owns the boat. He was as shocked as me. We could do nothing. After, I helped him clean. We scrubbed and polished and…”

He leaned toward her, and wrapped her in his arms. Katya buried her face against his neck. Tears sprang into her eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said and pressed his lips against her hair.

No, it wasn’t okay. It never could be. She felt his heart beating firm and steady and it reassured her, gave her hope there was life beyond this. But when she lifted her head and looked at him, he kissed her and she jerked back.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he whispered.

I’m not your sweetheart.

She heard a cell phone. Hers was switched off inside her violin case.

“You better answer,” she said.

Ethan eased from her side and went over to his jacket. As he took out the phone and walked away, his jacket fell to the floor. Katya picked it up and a black leather wallet tumbled from the inside pocket. One look and she felt as though someone had reached into her chest and dragged out her heart.

She’d caught his slip about Anna’s name and the four thousand dollars and still not made a big enough jump. When he sat next to her on the plane, he already knew who she was. There was no friend in the metallurgy department. She should have checked. Ethan didn’t really care for her. Aleksei might be a bad man but he
did
care.

When Ethan came back she held up his brass badge and his face paled.

“You lied,” she said.

“Only about being a metals trader, everything else I told you was true.”

“Your friend in the metallurgy department?”

“Well, no, that was a lie.”

“It wasn’t by chance you sat next to me on the plane.”

“No.”

She gasped in pain as her heart twisted. “All the things you said, coming to see me, not because you cared but…Oh God. I’ve made a mistake. Please call me a cab.”

He stepped forward and she backed away.

“I can help you, Katya.”

“Help me do what?”

“Whatever you want. Go home. Get away from the people who’re frightening you. You get us the evidence and we can put them in prison. Sit down, talk to me.”

She put her head in her hands. Shock had stolen the air from her lungs.

“Talk to me,” Ethan said. “You want the bad guys punished? Then talk to me.”

She dropped her hands and looked at him.

“What happened in Paris…” he said. “I wasn’t pretending. I crossed a line, but I don’t regret it. I wished I’d stayed, wished I’d asked you to go to Sanibel with me.”

He thought that made this better? It made it worse.

“Were you raped?” he whispered.

She gasped.

“Your uncle? His friends?”

She nodded once.

“Did you kill him?”

She nodded.

Ethan gestured toward the couch. “Sit down and tell me everything. I want to help you.”

Words bubbled inside her but she didn’t let them out. She didn’t sit but leaned against the wall.

“Do you work for the FSB?” he asked.

She shook her head.

She took a deep breath. “I came looking for my sister’s killer. Viktor Petrenko. Galya was an undercover FSB officer posing as his mistress. I believe he found out, tortured and killed her. My father came too close to the truth and Petrenko got rid of him too. When Petrenko left Russia and came here, I followed.”

He stared at her without blinking. “How did you plan on finding him?”

“Russian people stick together. I knew if I asked around in Sunny Isles at the Russian shops and restaurants, I’d eventually find someone who’d heard of him. It turned out to be much simpler than that.”

The more she told him, the more he asked, particularly about Aleksei. She hesitated before talking about Max Hastings but why not tell him everything? She’d had her chance with Petrenko and failed. Ethan offered another way to get revenge. His eyes widened when she told him Aleksei had the knives that had killed her uncle. When she’d finished talking, he gave a heavy sigh and she held herself taut waiting for his words.

“You want to see Kusmin and Petrenko punished? We can do that.”

No words of comfort for me?
“Not Aleksei.”

Ethan gave a short laugh. “He took you to Phoenix. He wants to use you. All he’s doing is grooming you.”

“I don’t want you to touch Aleksei. I want Petrenko in prison. Can you promise that?”

“With the right evidence.”

Hope flared.

“After, we’d protect you, move you to a new place, give you another name.”

Her head and heart ached. She’d come all this way to uncover the truth, and fallen in a hole so deep, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to climb out.

“I need to think. Please call me a cab.”

“I’ll drive you back to UM if that’s where you want to go.”

She nodded. Yet another part of her had died and there wasn’t much left alive. All Ethan wanted from her was what she could tell him. She wasn’t a fool. She knew he wanted Aleksei too. She stayed silent all the way back. He dropped her off well away from the music building.

“I’ll come and see you tomorrow,” he said.

“It’s Saturday.”

“Monday then.”

She looked at him for a long moment, a man she’d never known at all, then walked away.

Ethan drove away from UM thinking he’d never felt so emotionally conflicted. He gripped the wheel more tightly. He knew better than to allow himself to get attached. It was a clear enough line. He didn’t want her to go back to Aleksei Kusmin, yet she was potentially a valuable informant. Accusations of murder were no use without proof. Accusations of money laundering money were no use without names, amounts and places. She might not want Kusmin touched but he’d go down with Petrenko and the rest. There was no way to save him. The crimes against Katya were appalling, but the rapists were dead, all but Max Hastings. He raged that she’d been hurt like that, raged that Kusmin had conned her into believing he was on her side.

He wasn’t sure if he’d handled this the way he wanted to. It might help if he knew what he wanted. She’d asked to stay and he’d said yes, no matter what she told him, so why wasn’t she still at his house? Because she was more use to him back with Kusmin, which showed the sort of guy he really was. She’d come to him looking for a way out and he’d pushed her deeper.

The choice was between Katya and his job. A one night stand with a beautiful woman or what he’d dedicated his life to for the last ten years. Had he even made her realize he
did
feel something for her? He turned the car. If she was still where he’d dropped her off, he’d tell her how he felt.

She wasn’t.

By the time he drove away from the university, he was a temporary staff member. This time he was grateful for his badge. At least Katya would be safe at work. He could now meet her there and if Kusmin checked, he’d find he was exactly what Katya said he was, as long as he never had to pick up a violin.

Back at the office he called Luisa to ask if Frank was free. When he got there Lindy and Tom were with him, leaving Ethan to stew. He suspected Luisa had done that deliberately.

“Sorry, Ethan. He won’t be long. He said to wait. How’s the house looking?”

“Great.”

“Bought any more furniture?”

“No.”

“I could help you look,” she said.

“It’s only a place to sleep. I’ll be on Sanibel when I can.”

“I love Sanibel. There are some fabulous restaurants. Is that shell shop still there on the main street? Ages since I’ve been.”

Ethan tightened his mouth.

“You should have a housewarming party. I could help organize one.”

Oh God, when would she shut up? “I’ll think about it.”

“Just let me know.”

The door opened and the two agents came out.

Tom gave him a broad smile. “Hi, Ethan. I’ve finished that research on Bluewater.”

“Thanks, Tom.”

Ethan liked him. Tom was thorough and imaginative, a useful combination. He was a friendly guy, his reports well written. Ethan wasn’t so sure what he thought about Lindy. He sensed she and Martinez had decided he was a dick.

Ethan closed the door of Frank’s office. “I’ve just met Katya Mazarov.”

Frank raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“She now knows I’m an agent. She admitted killing her uncle in self-defense as he raped her.”

“She lied to the police.”

“Yes.”

“What about the other four men.”

“Two of them raped her. The other two walked away.”

“She killed them as well?” Frank gave a short laugh. “A dangerous woman to get into bed with.”

Ethan put his hands in his pockets and clenched his fists. “Yesterday, she saw a Russian woman, Anna Zamyatin, used as shark-bait on a fishing trip on the orders of Viktor Petrenko.”

Frank exhaled. “She found him? That’s impressive. You were wrong about her.”

Ethan nodded.

“Do we have any other names?”

“Aleksei Kusmin’s her…lover. Only first names for the others—Kirill, the Russian who put the hook in the girl, couple of Colombians—Emilio and Javez, another Russian called Constantin and an American named Bruno who works for Petrenko. Plus four young women, Anna, Beth, Sylvie and Natasha. No surnames for the last three.”

Ethan ran through what Katya had told him and saw Frank’s growing interest.

His boss tapped his fingers on his desk. “Looks like we have a combination of murder, money laundering, rape, extortion, drug trafficking, arms sales, prostitution. A day in the life of a typical Russian gangster. Have I missed anything and more importantly will she work with us?”

“She’s pretty spooked.” Ethan didn’t know if he wanted her to try.

“What’s she like?”

“Intelligent.” Sexy and sweet. “She feels strongly about injustice.” He didn’t want to say she was obsessed with avenging the murder of her family. “She’s determined and brave.” And he’d hurt her.
Fuck.

“Does she trust you?”

He didn’t want to answer that.

“Well?” Frank asked.

“As of this moment, probably not. She thought I was sitting next to her by chance on the plane. Now she knows better.”

“I don’t like to pressure you, Ethan, but if only a fraction of this is true—”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s dangerous and I don’t know if she’s up to it. She obviously came over here with a plan to get even with Petrenko, and no idea what she was getting into.”

“It sounds like Kusmin is keeping her safe. You did tell her we can’t promise not to touch him.”

“Not sure she’ll talk to us if we tell her we’ll take him down too. The idea of a new identity and the rest of her life in hiding aren’t exactly appealing.”

“Ethan, if you don’t want to be involved, say so. In fact maybe you ought to step back.”

“I want to stick with this. She knows me, feels I’m someone she can speak to. For the time being, let’s keep it just between us. Oh, one more thing. Kusmin showed her the knives she’d used to kill her uncle, and her aunt’s pillowcase. How’d they get from the FLPD to him? The person who removed the knives could also have warned Kusmin that an APB was about to be issued on Katya. That’s why she came in voluntarily before she was arrested.”

Frank sighed. “We definitely need Jack Bosman in on this now. The FLPD has six murders to solve. I’m being urged to be more co-operative.”

“I’ll speak to him.”

Bosman was the NCAVC coordinator. The FBI’s National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime was just outside Quantico, with the world’s largest database for tracking violent criminal offences, and a resource used by all the law enforcement agencies. By the time Ethan had finishing going through everything on the phone with Jack he felt even worse than when he’d arrived at the office.

He’d only just settled at his desk when Revnik put his head around the door.

“Busy?”

“Who decided twenty-four hours in a day were enough?”

Revnik grinned. “And God wants all of them spent on the job
and
you missed his meeting.”

“What can I do for you?” Ethan asked.

Revnik came in and closed the door. “After you mentioned Viktor Petrenko I put some feelers out.”

Ethan sat back in his chair and kept his face blank. “What do you have?”

“The Viktor Petrenko I knew in Moscow has bought a house in Bal Harbor and owns a hot nightclub in South Beach. He’s getting his name known.”

“Anything illegal?”

“On paper no, in reality probably yes. Do you want me to take a look?”

“Very quietly,” Ethan said.

“Of course.”

When Revnik had gone, Ethan sat thinking. Why had Revnik come to him now? The phone rang and broke into his thoughts.

“Roberts,” he said.

“It’s Brannon. I’ve just received a call.”

“Ah.” He guessed it was from Jack.

“I’ve been an officer of the law all my life and I damn well know when someone’s holding out on me. I have families demanding results, plus I got half the country’s press camped out on my doorstep and a few ghouls from overseas. Now I find I’m no longer in charge but expected to cooperate fully with
your
investigation. That Russian girl might have conveniently found herself an alibi but I’m betting she’s deep in this shit. At least have the common decency to tell me whether I’m right.”

“You’re right, but I can’t tell you more than that.”

He sighed as Brannon cut him off. There would be bridges to mend with the FLPD. He looked up Bosman’s extension number and dialed. Better to let the coordinator know about this phone call before things got any worse.