Two O'Clock Heist: A Rebecca Mayfield Mystery (The Rebecca Mayfield Mysteries Book 2) (20 page)

That was where the two of them differed.

Rebecca stopped in CSI and talked to Inspector Pacheco. He gave her back her apartment keys and said they had been there only once, the day after the break-in.

Rebecca went to her partner. Bill Sutter was at his desk eating sunflower seeds and tapping out a report on the computer. “A neighbor said she’s heard someone in my apartment. It might be a squatter, or worse. I could use back-up.”

He spat out a shell, wiped his hands, and stood. “I knew this was going to cause me trouble,” he grumbled.

“It might be nothing,” she said.

He didn’t answer, but checked the magazine on his Glock, which said more than words could have.

They drove separately. As Rebecca waited for Sutter, she was surprised to see a white truck parked where Mulford Alley dead-ended. She wondered who it belonged to, and it only increased her nervousness.

Sutter soon arrived and followed as she unlocked the door to the breezeway beside the garage. From it, she crossed the back yard to her front door, and unlocked it.

She stopped in the doorway.

Something felt off.

Memories of the past couple of days rushed at her. Of being bound and unable to breathe, of coming up against a switchblade and gun. She glanced at Sutter who nodded in encouragement.

She squared her shoulders and held her Glock at the ready. She could see the living room, dining nook, and most of the U-shaped kitchen, then kept going until she could see around the kitchen counter.

She crept towards the bedroom and peered inside. The door wasn’t swung all the way open against the wall as it usually was.

She slowly backed out of the bedroom, using hand gestures to indicate to Sutter that she may have company. She pressed against one side of the doorway, Sutter against the opposite side. “Come out, now,” she said.

She heard a footstep, then another. And then the door moved slightly as a man stepped out from behind it. First, she saw his revolver, but he didn’t fire. Next, she saw his face.

“Yuri Baranski,” she said, continuing to hold her gun on him.

“That’s right.”

“Put the gun down. We need to talk.”

“So you can arrest me? No.”

“How about if I
arrest you, instead?” Sutter said from behind Baranski.

“Do you expect to shoot the two of us?” Rebecca asked, studying his fac
e. “The way you shot Karen?”

“I would never hurt her. I loved her!” They stared at each other a long moment before he said, “We can talk.” He put his revolver on the ground and gave it a kick towards Sutter. Sutter picked it up, then cuffed him and searched Baranski for more weapons. He had none.

“How did you get in here?” she demanded.

“
At night, from roof and down back stair. I have lock pick. It’s not important.” He spoke with a moderately heavy accent.

She eyed him carefully. “Why did you come here?”

He sucked in his breath through his teeth. “When I saw you at Golden Gate Garage, I remember you, and how Karen talked about you, her friend. Please let me explain. I have done nothing wrong.”

Rebecca had Baranski sit at the breakfast table. She sat across from him, Sutter on a more distant chair in the living area, as Baranski explained that Charkov wanted to kill him for bringing the law to Charkov’s door, to his business. Baranski knew he was nothing to Charkov, less than a foot-soldier. Also, he had wanted to break away from the syndicate for some time, but to attempt to do so could be deadly.

Baranski knew that if Charkov were to kill him and plant more evidence of Karen’s murder on him, it would get the law away from the Russian syndicate. That was Charkov’s goal in all this.

“My fear was Charkov could kill me at any time, or the police could arrest me for Karen’s murder, and then what would happen to Nina?” Baranski said. “If
Charkov takes her … he likes girls, not women. Likes young, skinny girls. If he kept Nina, then, as she grows older …” He shuddered. “I believe you would make sure she is safe. I needed everyone—you, police, Charkov—to think I am dead. People who know me, know I would not leave Nina, so when I did, they would believe I died.

“I made noise so my nosy neighbor would think I left at night, but I stay with Nina and then sneak out in morning. Then I send you text. I expect to see you in ten minutes, but I wait many hours. Finally, you come, you take care of my daughter.”

Rebecca nodded. “Nina is with the Child Protective Services. If you don’t pick her up soon, they’ll contact her grandparents in Santa Rosa.”

“Good. There, she will be safe,” Bar
anski said. “Now, you must understand. Karen’s death had nothing to do with me or Charkov and his people.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Rebecca said. “You and they seemed to be the most dangerous things in her life.”

“No.” His eyes filled with anguish. “I may have been safest. If up to me, she would be alive today. But in her heart, she was still cop, even though she quit her job.”

“What do you mean?”

He drew in his breath, waiting a moment before continuing. “She had interest in jewelry thefts in towns near us. She study them. She want to go back to law enforcement, but because of me, she could not. She love ‘the game’ as she call it.”

“What did she do?”

“She not tell me. She said less I know, is better for me. But she now had money—money to buy expensive clothes and attend fancy parties.”

“Money from where?” Rebecca asked.

Yuri shook his head, murmuring that he didn’t know.

“I don’t get it,” Rebecca said. “Was she working with the Sausalito police or the County?”

He again shook his head. “I don’t think so. I remember one day, she said thieves took over ten million dollars in jewelry. She was happy about it.”

“Happy?” Rebecca didn’t get it. “What did she mean?”

“I don’t know. But someone knew, and when she die, stolen jewels were found in houseboat. But she did not steal them. She was no thief. Someone put thefts on her. And now, someone put her murder on me.”

“Didn’t you two fight the day she was murdered? Didn’t she throw you out?”

“We fought, and I left. We fought because I don’t want her to do anything dangerous. She said we need money and she have good way to get it. She said we soon go far away, start over.”

Rebecca studied him. “If you left earlier that day, and you weren’t involved in Karen’s murder, how did you end up with Nina?”

He shut his eyes a moment, and when he opened then, silent tears fell from his eyes. “Later, when I calm down, I am sorry for fight. I call Karen, said I hate that she put herself in dangerous, but if she must do this, I will help. I want to keep her safe. She ask me to take Nina for a few hours that night. She said she must meet someone, and she call me when we could go back home. But she never …” He stopped, struggling with his memories.

Rebecca waited a moment, then asked, “You went along with that?”

“I didn’t want to fight anymore. She was strong, brave, and smart woman. She had plan, but something went wrong. I think someone learn her plan. I don’t know how, but that is who killed her.” He blinked hard as if that would stop the tears that rolled down his face, but it didn’t. “She was good, Rebecca, good to me and our daughter. I fail her. Now, I fail Nina. I don’t know what to do, but somehow, the one who did this terrible thing, must pay.” He bowed his head.

For the first time since this all began, she felt as if the old Karen, her friend, was being described. Yuri talked about the Karen she knew. A bit daredevil, a bit brash, and loving the excitement of “the game.”

Unfortunately, this time the game had turned deadly.

“One thing bothers me,” Rebecca said. “Why were you at the Golden Gate Garage on Saturday?”

“Before you found me, it safe for me. No one know I worked there. I ask Vasiliev if I could have work, or if not, borrow money for apartment for me and Nina. He give me some money, small job, try to help … and then, you arrive. He say go away, do not come back.”

Rebecca’s heart sank. She turned to Sutter, who had been quietly listening. She knew he was trying to put all the pieces together
as he listened. Sutter was far from stupid, and she was confident he understood.

He wrinkled his mouth, but then his eyes darted towards Baranski, and back at her. He nodded. He believed Baranski’s story.

Rebecca knew there was an APB out for Baranski from Sausalito, which meant she should take him in. But that, she was sure, would stop Wong from looking for the real murderer. She made a decision—one that again jeopardized her job, so she couldn’t get her partner involved. “I’ll handle it from here,” she said to Sutter. “Thank you for your help.”

“You sure?” he asked.

She nodded.

He faced Baranski with a fierce scowl and a warning. “If you’re lying
to us …”

Baranski looked him straight in the face. “I do not lie about my wife.”

Sutter turned and walked out the door.

Once the two were alone, Rebecca said, “I want you to stay here. I’ll bring you more food. I know there isn’t much
in the apartment.”

“There’s enough for me. Don’t worry about it. If Charkov still watch you, he wonder why you bring food here. When person who kill Karen is caught, Charkov will know you are not looking for him any longer. After that, he has no reason to kill me. Perhaps then I can go back to my daughter.”

Rebecca nodded and removed his handcuffs. “I’m trusting you to stay put. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I won’t,” Baranski said. “But I beg you, Inspector, please keep my Nina safe, and find Karen’s killer.”

CHAPTER
22

Rebecca hurried to Richie’s house but he wasn’t home. If Baranski’s story was true, she could stay away from the Russians, and leave them to the FBI just as Eastwood wanted. She was glad of that. The killer, she now knew, was somewhere in Marin County.

At the moment, however, her thoughts took a very different turn, as s
he decided to go to a grocery store. She could cook a little, and since Richie once called her a “country girl,” she planned to show him just how good an Idaho meal could be. She bought a small prime rib and a couple of potatoes for baking, along with butter, sour cream, chives, cheddar cheese and bacon bits to put on top, plus some creamy horseradish sauce for the prime rib and the makings for a crisp salad with ranch dressing.

She put the roast and potatoes in the oven, then took a shower. She expected Richie would be coming home any minute now.

She was dressed and pacing in the kitchen, wondering why he wasn’t there yet. She knew that preparing a special dinner would put their relationship on a whole new level, but she was ready for that, and wanting it. She had heard how hollow her words to Kiki against Richie sounded. The more time she spent with him, the more she cared, the more she trusted, and since he had indicated he’d like to try to work out their differences, she wanted to try as well.

And, yes, the whole idea of her and Richie together made her nervous. But right now, she didn’t care.

The prime rib should be removed from the oven in another half hour. He liked meat medium rare. The last thing she wanted was to serve him something dried out and overcooked.

She had wanted the meal to be a surprise, a delicious surprise, but decided to phone and make sure he would soon be arriving.

“Hello, Rebecca.” The tone of his voice sounded odd, distanced.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No,” he said curtly. “You called me, remember. Why?”

This wasn’t like him. “I was wondering when you were coming home for dinner.”

“I already ate. I’m going straight to the club tonight.”

“Oh.” Of course, she thought
, as disappointment filled her. He had a life. Lots of things to do. He had never struck her as a homebody. Probably, he had spent more time in his house since she’d been there than usual.

“What is it?” he asked. “Did you need me home for some reason?”

“No … no, not at all.” Kiki’s words about Richie being insightful came back to her. “I just had an interesting turn of events in Karen’s murder to tell you about. But it’s nothing that can’t wait.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Sure.” She swallowed hard.

He hung up without another word.

She stared at the phone. That was the second time he’d hung up on her.
I’ll see you when I see you.
What kind of rotten way was that to talk to her?

“Screw you!” she muttered.

She finished cooking the prime rib. She ate some and tried to eat a baked potato and salad. She knew they were cooked well, and that the meat was tender, but everything tasted like sawdust.

Finally, she put the leftovers away and cleaned up the kitchen. She wished her apartment was half as spic-and-span as Richie’s home. He had a woman come over to clean it once a week, and he managed to keep it in fine shape in between.