Russian Mafia Boss's Heir (22 page)

Alexandra felt a stab of determination. “Don’t ever believe I don’t want this. I do. I’ve been angling for this next promotion to agent in charge for more than two years. I can’t quit now just because you’re not willing to help me.”

Ivan rolled his eyes. “Nice guilt trip, Alex. Next time you should try being less obvious.”

Alexandra sighed. It was time to start looking for creative ways to keep her career going in the right direction. Eventually she might even have time for that weird thing called a social life.

***

“So,” Vitaly said slowly as he gazed at Anton Maximov, “you’re telling me that there are now beat cops hanging out on every single corner of our route?”

The two of them were standing in Vitaly’s office at the Maximov mansion. Both men peered at a giant map of the city that had been pinned to the wall. It probably wasn’t the best idea to keep a physical map of their drug runs hanging in plain sight. Unfortunately, figuring out the problems that seemed to plague them had become top priority of late. Security was sliding down the list. It didn’t matter if they were secure when they couldn’t seem to get a route in place that wasn’t almost immediately compromised.

“It’s true, boss.” Anton scratched his head. “I don’t know why they would be there, either.”

“You know that empty building over here?” Vitaly pointed to an area just outside the range of their route and still in the jurisdiction of that district police station. “Someone needs to call in a break-in right there. And over here?” Vitaly indicated an area on the opposite side of the route. “There needs to be a report of shots fired in there. Understand?”

Anton’s expression cleared. “Distractions, no?”

“Exactly.” Vitaly shook his head. “This is freaking ridiculous. I swear we didn’t have this sort of problem before we started doing prescription meds. It’s like those things breed this sort of trouble.”

“Too bad they’re so damn lucrative, huh?” Anton gathered up his jacket and slipped his 9 millimeter back into his shoulder holster. “I’ll be back to the house as soon as the runners finish the route.”

“Did you tell Dimitri and Uday?” Vitaly asked. “You need to keep your brothers aware of where you are at all times. All of you do. That way if we get separated or attacked or something, we know where we’re supposed to be at least.”

“Got it.” Anton nodded. “You’re better at this than our father was, you know?” Then he offered Vitaly a wry smile. “And my brothers and I would have been a disaster. We’re fortunate that you stepped in.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Vitaly pursed his lips. “Yuri was like a father to me after my own father passed away. I could always go to him when the shit hit the fan and he would give me good advice, even when it was painful to hear.”

“
Da
!” Anton agreed. “Papa was good at that.”

“Have you been to visit him upstate?” Vitaly asked, but he already knew the answer. None of the sons had been to see their father.

“He would not want it,” Anton said grimly. “He would want us to go on with the business and with life. No looking back, you know?”

“I know.” Vitaly turned back to the map. “Let’s just keep the rest of our asses out of jail.”

“That Ivan Popov should go to hell for what he did to the organization,” Anton snarled. “He took down this whole branch!”

“Yes, but we’ve built it back stronger than ever,” Vitaly insisted. “Surely that’s good enough for now.”

“For now.” Anton exhaled a deep sigh and then left the office.

Vitaly sat in the big executive chair and put his feet up on his desk. It was true that Yuri had been like a father to him, but he would never try to deny the fact that Yuri’s arrest and subsequent removal to jail had been extremely convenient for Vitaly. Still, all bets would be off if Vitaly ever crossed paths with the FBI agent who had taken down Yuri Maximov. They had no way of knowing whom it was, or what this agent was planning now.

“Which means we have to be extra careful,” Vitaly murmured as he stared at the map.

He deliberately turned away from the map and opened his laptop. Yuri had always taken care of all the accounts payable and receivable, the money laundering, and even things like payroll. He had made it seem effortless. Vitaly had since learned it was anything but. Since taking on the business all on his own, he’d been doing most of the work himself and getting little to no sleep at night.

“Hey, boss.” Uday stuck his head inside the office. “I’m taking a few guys and heading over to the big laundromat to pick up the deposit. You need anything?”

“Are you guys going to hit the smaller ones too?” Vitaly frowned. That went against protocol.

“No,” Uday assured him. “Dimitri is taking care of that. We remember you said not to be all in one place so we don’t get taken at the same time.”

“Exactly,” Vitaly agreed with a nod. “I’ll see you when you come back.”

Uday left and the door slammed closed. Vitaly walked to the window then and stared outside at the darkening sky. Sometimes he stood here in the evenings and remembered what it was like to grow up in a two-room apartment in a Moscow tenement. Even then he had dreamed of a better life and a chance to make something of himself. Now his task was to stay one step ahead of the FBI and remain out of jail. It made for a solitary sort of life.

He was richer than he’d ever dreamed possible, busier and more successful within the mafia organization than he could have imagined, and yet he was lonely. Rubbing a hand down his face, he wondered what had happened to make him so damn maudlin. Yuri would have said that Vitaly was giving in to the demons of doubt. When in doubt, simply take two steps forward and forget about the past.
That
had been Yuri’s mantra.

Vitaly walked to the sideboard and poured himself a shot of vodka. He raised the glass into the air. “To you, Yuri,” he said darkly. “For leaving me in charge, and to that damn FBI agent for all of the success that you allowed me to waltz in and claim. May you rot in hell.”

Chapter Three

Alexandra took a deep breath and reached for the door handle that led to the conference room. Her task force was waiting. She just hated to imagine what it was they were waiting for. She hadn’t had any good intel for them in nearly six months. Not since the big raid that had brought down Yuri Maximov.

She gathered her resolve and entered the room with the bold step of someone who was feeling a lot more confident than Alexandra actually was at that moment. “Good morning, everyone. Did anyone make coffee?”

There was a round of greetings, and then Joe Farelli gestured to the coffeepot sitting on a side table. “Help yourself. And Greta was nice enough to bring donuts.”

Alexandra poured a steaming cup of what was very likely bitter acid coffee and selected a fat jelly donut. “Thanks for the calories, Greta.”

“Hey, anytime.” The only other female member of the team, Greta had the appearance of someone who could have been named Helga and carried a club. She was brawny and tall, and probably twice the size of two of their male compatriots.

Alexandra slumped into her chair at the head of the table. Setting her butt into her seat and getting comfy, she wondered vaguely how much longer she was going to occupy that position. Then she took a big bite of the jelly donut and decided she wasn’t going to give up her spot without a fight.

She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “Okay, so what do we have this morning so far? And what’s the plan for this week?”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be telling us?” Joe asked irritably from the other end of the table. He raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been feeding the organized crime division tips and inside information since you came on board. Then after that last bust, it just all dried up.”

“The bust pretty much dried up my CI network.” Alexandra forced herself to be calm. “It takes time to build it back up again.”

Joe cocked his head and she noticed that he was sporting a new haircut, and that he’d actually put
product
on his wavy black locks. Was he trying to change his image? And for what? Then he straightened in his chair and looked at each of the other six members of the team. “I’ve been doing some investigating, and I’ve found something.”

“Okay,” Alexandra said in a bid to keep control of the meeting. “Can you share what you’ve discovered so we can discuss it?”

“You know Yuri had all those laundromats,” Joe said eagerly. “Well I’ve been looking into some of the activities at the larger of the six.”

“You’re talking about the one in the same vicinity as the Maximov house? Uday runs that particular shop. That is what you’re referring to, right?” Alexandra inquired coolly. She wanted to remind Joe that she knew the inner workings of the Maximov businesses very intimately.

“Yes.” Joe glanced at her, obviously annoyed. “I saw Uday yesterday, picking up the deposits. I’m thinking we should arrest him while he’s got one on him.”

“Uday Maximov isn’t the brightest bulb in the lamp, but he isn’t stupid,” Alexandra reminded them. “If he’s got a deposit on him, it’s going to look totally legit. They run those things separately, or in code. We’d have to have a warrant or something.”

Joe did not look pleased and Greta was smirking. Alexandra sighed. “You might be onto something with the laundromat, though. Did you see anyone that we could pump for info? Was there anyone suspicious hanging around?”

“Just that little dopehead who we used to see hanging out at Ivan Popov’s arcade,” Joe muttered.

“Dopehead?” Alexandra swallowed as a sudden shot of adrenaline hit her bloodstream.

Joe could only be talking about Jacob. She and Ivan had known Jacob since high school. Since Yuri’s arrest, Jacob had gone to ground as far as she knew. At least he hadn’t been responding to her texts. If he was working for Vitaly, he was in a position to tattle on Alexandra. Jacob was completely unpredictable when it came to sharing information. He knew how to take care of number one better than anyone else she knew. If he felt threatened, he might be inclined to use what he knew about Alexandra to get himself out of a tight spot.

“Yeah.” Joe frowned at her. “Do you know who I’m talking about? We used to believe that he was making runs, but we could never actually catch him doing anything.”

“Maybe he really was making runs,” Greta suggested. “Since Yuri’s not there anymore, he just hired himself out to the next guy who came in.”

“Do you have any info on his identity or anything?” Alexandra asked, knowing already that he didn’t. Joe would have been shouting it from the rafters if he had.

“Not yet.”

“Then let’s make that the focus of this week.” She glanced at the others sitting at the table. “I need you guys to go through transcripts of the testimony and see if anyone has mentioned this dopehead. Let’s see if we can place him within the organization. Shall we? And, Joe, you stick with him and find out what he’s up to.”

“And what about you?” Greta asked.

Alexandra picked up her donut and prepared to shove the whole thing in her mouth to avoid talking, yet she knew that would be an exercise in futility. “I’ll be doing the same thing.”

Actually, Alexandra would be doing the opposite. Jacob was a cockroach. If she could count on anything, it was knowing that he would he hard as hell to catch. Once they did, he would sing. Still, he was good at playing hard to find, especially if he discovered the FBI was looking for him.

In the meantime, Alexandra was going to take the bull by the horns. She needed to find Vitaly, and somehow convince him to give himself away to her. It would not be an easy task, but she was confident that she could figure out a way to get past his defenses. Ivan’s suggestion came immediately to mind. She was a woman. He was a man. She knew how to work that to her advantage, even though she knew she’d be playing with fire.

***

 “Are you kidding me right now?” Vitaly looked at Uday and wondered if the guy could tell how completely pissed off he was. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know, boss.” Uday shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s like they know what we’re doing before we do.”

“Then perhaps we have a mole,” Vitaly mused. “Send Jacob to me, please.”

“The runner?” Uday’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because your father used to believe he had contacts in the Bureau. That’s why.” Vitaly frowned. “And I want to know if he’s still talking to them.”

“Got it.” Uday disappeared.

Vitaly walked to the windows and stared out at the carefully manicured yard between this house and the next. He liked living in Maximov’s house. It was spacious and luxurious. It wasn’t actually Vitaly’s, and yet nobody would take it from him because he was a boss within the Russian organization. As with most legal-savvy professional criminals, Yuri Maximov had protected his property and legitimate businesses from federal seizure through a complex network of corporations and trusts. Now Vitaly was reaping the benefits, once again the beneficiary of someone else’s foresight.

“You wanted to see me?” Jacob minced into the office, his gaze glued to the floor.

The shifty little character with the paunchy belly, stringy hair, and almost rodent-like personality had been one of Yuri’s most trusted associates, despite his suspected connections to the FBI. Vitaly hadn’t understood why until Jacob had come to him asking for work. Since then, Vitaly had realized the little man was worth his weight in gold.

“Good morning, Jacob.” Vitaly kept his tone pleasant. “I wanted to ask you about the agent responsible for having Yuri Maximov arrested.”

Jacob’s gaze abruptly lifted to meet Vitaly’s. His surprise was evident. “Alex?” He shifted from foot to foot, looking very uncomfortable. “Why?”

Alex.
That was more information than Vitaly had been able to gain to date. Still, pushing Jacob was never wise. He resolved to be casual. “Because we seem to have a mole tattling on us to the feds and I wanted to know what you know.” Vitaly gestured to one of the big comfy chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat and let’s chat, shall we?”

“Uh,” Jacob hedged. He was actually looking at the door as if he was trying to decide if he could make an escape or not. Then he seemed to deflate a little. He slumped into one of the chairs and set his dirty knapsack between his feet. “What do you want to know?”