Seeing Love: Saints Protection & Investigations
Page 5
As she headed down the road, she was restless as the image of a small boy, smiling in a windowless room filled her mind once more.
*
Bart arrived at Constance’s house early for their meeting. Mrs. Dukakas opened the door to him, and said, “Mr. Anton Krustas will meet with you in the study, but he isn’t here right now.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to Mr. Ivan Krustas.”
A small smile crossed her face as she nodded and turned toward the dining room. Bart walked behind her, seeing Ivan sitting alone, at the end of the table. Ivan looked up and nodded toward the housekeeper.
“Can you bring Mr. Taggart some refreshment, please.”
“No, no, thank you,” Bart assured Mrs. Dukakas. “I’ll just take some coffee if it’s not too much trouble.”
The older woman patted his arm, saying, “You’re a good man to help us. Have a seat and I’ll take care of you.”
He watched her walk out of the room before sitting down, facing Ivan. The haggard look on Ivan’s face suddenly halted Bart’s words. He wanted to demand that Krustas admit Faith was a phony, but the words choked in his throat.
Ivan spoke after a moment of watching Bart silently struggle. “You’re a man on a mission this afternoon but, for some reason, you’re hesitating to say what’s on your mind.” He set his fork down on his plate, pushing it back before pinning Bart with a stare. “My grandson is missing and I don’t have time to beat around the bush…or have someone else do so.”
Duly chastised, Bart nodded. “I want to understand what you hope to gain from employing Ms. Romani. Do you know her? Did she approach you? What did she promise you? Did she talk about finding Erik using some kind of gift of sight?”
The moment was broken as Mrs. Dukakas brought in more coffee. Ivan glanced up at his housekeeper and said, “Mr. Taggart is wondering about Faith. I’m not sure he has any.”
Bart looked between the two, seeing a fleeting smile at the inside joke that passed between them. Mrs. Dukakas left the room and Bart looked back for an explanation from Ivan.
“Bart, I knew Ms. Romani’s grandmother. She and I grew up near each other. We were from the same heritage. We may claim Russia as our ancestor’s country but our heritage is of Russian gypsies. You are a man who looks for truth in facts. We appreciate there are many truths found in faith.”
“I do have faith, Ivan,” he countered. “Faith in family, faith in God.”
“Faith in love?” Ivan asked.
“Yes,” Bart answered without hesitation. He looked past Ivan’s shoulder, lost in thoughts of his grandfather. Drawing himself up, he shared, “My grandfather taught me to have faith in family, God, and yes, in love. I’ve never found it myself, but I saw it every day with him and my grandmother and between my parents. But when I was a SEAL on a mission or investigating crimes, I needed facts. Substantial evidence. Not some mumbo jumbo.”
Ivan leaned back in his chair, carefully considering the young man in front of him. “There’s a world of difference between the swindler Cecil Nastelli, who your grandmother dealt with last summer, and Faith Romani.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s the difference?”
Ivan stood, picked up his coffee, and motioned for Bart to follow him. The two men made their way to the comfortable study, sitting back down in easy chairs.
“For years, there have been those, particularly women, who have what can be called second sight. Yes, many have exploited it, calling themselves psychic and charging money for their gift. Others use it cautiously. For good.”
“And you think that’s what Ms. Romani is doing? Hell, Ivan, be reasonable. She goes to crime scenes, gathers clues, and then claims to have seen the images she draws.”
“Her grandmother had the gift. It skips a generation and Faith has it also.” Ivan watched the look of disbelief mixed with disgust cross Bart’s face. “But, regardless of your opinions, I want Ms. Romani on the case. If you do not think you can accommodate, then I’ll be forced to negotiate with your boss for another investigator.”
Bart stiffened at the insinuation he could not do his job. “That won’t be necessary,” he stated forcefully.
Just then, the housekeeper walked to the doorway. “Ms. Romani is here.”
“Send her in and call for Anton as well.”
Bart was not happy, but as he stood to greet Faith when she appeared in the hall, Ivan leaned over, whispering, “And for the record, she did not contact me. I contacted her. And she refuses any money I have offered.”
Bart jerked his head around but did not have a chance to question Ivan further since Faith was walking into the room.
“My dear, join us.”
Bart’s gaze stayed on her as she walked toward him cautiously, the look of a mouse approaching a cat on her face. Her long hair pulled back away from her face in a simple headband, its length still flowing down her back. She refuses any money Ivan has offered. She doesn’t dress expensively, so what’s her game? Does she dress down to gain pity?
As she crossed the room, her timidity lessened with each step. By the time she sat in the seat Ivan had indicated, her spine was steel and she pierced Bart with her glare. I am not going to be intimidated!
“I’m glad you’re here,” Ivan spoke, breaking the pointed silence. “Anton will be joining us in just a few minutes. Dmitry was sent back to the university since his presence is not needed at this time. I know Jack has given Bart information on my possible enemies; I will have Anton brief you from our family’s perspective.”
Faith’s gaze shifted between the two men in the room. “Do you still want me involved?” she asked, sure that Bart had already painted her as a fraud to Ivan.
“Of course,” Ivan said. He sat down next to her, reaching out to grasp her cold hands. “Bart and I have discussed his concerns. They are not shared by me,” he promised.
“I…I don’t know what to say—”
“Faith, I knew your grandmother, as you know. We grew up in the same neighborhood. She was beautiful…fun…and special.”
Her eyes held his as he continued to speak. “I knew her gift. I perceived it passed to you. Whatever it is…whatever you can do, I want you to do it. If it is using your psychology and knowledge of people or any insight you may have…I just need to know you will assist in bringing Erik home to me.”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes as she blinked quickly. Glancing over at Bart, she lifted her chin, saying, “What about you? Can we work together?”
She watched as a muscle in his jaw tightened, but his words confirmed, “Yes. All that matters is finding Erik.”
Chapter 6
As the four sat down in the study, Bart made sure to sit next to Anton and across from Faith and Ivan. He wanted immediate access to what Anton was divulging, but also to keep an eye on Faith. She looked up at him but, instead of seeing soulful eyes, all he could see was deceit, then hurt, before she glanced down at her hands, gently rubbing her fingers over her chewed thumbnail. Is she nervous? Anton’s voice brought him back to the task at hand and he admonished himself for focusing on Faith. Get in the game, man. She’s secondary to what’s in those files.
“Ivan and I have compiled as much information as we could about who we think may have a hand in this. To be honest, Ivan feels like some of this may not be necessary but, we cannot leave any stone unturned.”
Bart had spent most of his time after getting off the phone with Jack pouring over the information that Luke sent to him and was anxious to see what Anton would offer.
“We do a lot of business and have been around for a very long time,” Anton began. “There are a few newcomers who have tried to nudge their way in…or blast their way in, and we have prevailed. The money is substantial and the stakes are high. Any of these three would profit greatly by knocking Krustas down.”
Bart understood what was at stake. If the Krustas empire crashed, the chaos would resemble vultures on a carcass. And Anton was about the reveal the top three vultures.
“It’s fine,” she said, but Bart noted a blush rise from her modest neckline to the top of her forehead.
“Mostly drugs and some extortion,” Anton finished.
“What exactly would crippling Ivan do for them?” Bart asked.
“My family controls the warehouse area in Norfolk. Getting rid of us would allow someone else to do that. It would make for easier shipping of drugs, humans, goods…whatever they wanted to smuggle.”
Faith jerked her gaze around to Ivan, surprise and silent questioning in her expression. Ivan noticed and as he turned toward her, he gave a small smile. “This shocks you, my dear?”
With a quick shake of her head, she turned her eyes back to Anton, her naïvite surprising her. She glanced over, seeing Bart watching her like a hawk. Lifting her chin slightly, she adopted a blank expression as she turned her attention back to Anton.
“Miguel’s group is ruthless and, frankly, they’re at the top of our list.”
Bart interjected, “You share this with the FBI?”
“Of course,” Anton growled. “Nothing’s as important to us as finding Erik.”
“The questions have to be asked,” Ivan admonished his nephew. Turning back to Bart, he confessed, “Yes, we shared our concerns with the FBI but, as you can imagine, they were excited to get insights into our businesses. That is one of the reasons I went to Jack to find a private investigation firm that had the resources to dig into these people.
Anton nodded, sighed deeply and continued. “There is another Russian family. Volkov. They’re newcomers and by that, I mean new to this country. No background to guide them. No elder at the helm. Gavrill Volkov is their head.”
“Have you had dealings with them?” Bart asked.
“They landed on our shores about five years ago and have tried to muscle into our territory. Each year they become a little more ruthless. Sergio tried to integrate them into our businesses and we actually wondered if my cousin was working for them before going to prison.”
Bart glanced down at the photographs in front of him, but the faces were already familiar. He had purposely not divulged that the Saints had already sent him compiled dossiers on these gangs. So far, his impressions were on target with Anton and Ivan’s assessments.
“The last true threat comes from the Maldonis.”
At this, Ivan scoffed, then looked up at the eyes facing him. “They are not high on my list. Yes, they would love to take over my territory and businesses, but they are an old family. Italian. Luciano Maldoni is their head. He is my age and runs his family as I do. His sons and nephews may handle his interests, but Luciano is still very much in charge. I would never consider a strike against the family of an enemy, especially not with a child. Luciano would feel the same.”
“But there are many under him who may not feel the same. No longer respecting the ways of the old,” Faith said. Her eyes stayed on the picture of Luciano Maldoni, her fingers resting lightly on the paper. “The ways of the old are dying.”
The three men watched her carefully, two with interest and one with disgust.
“Yes, well, we can’t condemn or dismiss anyone based on feelings, so I suggest we get to the rest of the business at hand,” Bart growled. He watched as her gaze lifted to his, held for a moment and then moved away. Jesus, how’s this gonna work, he thought in anger once more.
*
Within the hour, Bart headed down to the conference room at the Saint’s compound underneath Jack’s large home. At a quick glance, he saw the rest of the Saints already there.
“Whatcha got for me, boss?”
“Monty’s arranged with one of his FBI cohorts for you and Ms. Romani to talk to the men on Ivan’s list.”
Monty took over the explanation. “When Jack said you were coming, I arranged for Mitchell Evans to do a video conference with us.” With a few taps on his keyboard, Luke pulled up the image of the FBI agent onto the screen. The dark-haired FBI agent smiled at them.
After introductions had been made, Mitch began, “It’s good to meet you. Hated like hell to lose Monty but, after hearing a bit about your organization, I can understand why he left.” He looked down at the papers in front of him and continued. “Krustas’ concerns are legitimate. While the Bureau is taking the kidnapping seriously and working around the clock to find Erik, there are some other agents that are using the opportunity to delve deeply into organized crime in Virginia. Not only Krustas, but the other three organizations he mentioned to you are under scrutiny now.”
“What does this mean for us?” Monty asked, looking between his neat notes on his tablet and the screen. Organized and efficient, he typed as quickly as Mitch spoke.
“I was in contact as soon as we got Ivan’s suspicions and have arranged for Bart and Ms. Romani to meet with each of those organizations.”
Bart’s eyes immediately jerked to the screen. “Ms. Romani too? What the fuck? She’s not an investigator.”
“Yes, but Krustas wants her involved to see if there are any impressions she gets with these men,” Mitch replied.
“So, what?” Bart almost yelled, his hair standing on end as he ran his hand through it fiercely. “You’re asking me to take an untrained, unarmed woman into not just one den of thieves, but into three of them? Jesus, what a fuckin’ disaster!”
“No harm will come to you, I assure you. These organizations have agreed to an interview because they’re under pressure from us to cooperate. I’ve personally talked with Escobar, Volkov, and Maldoni. None of them are happy, but they know your purpose is about Erik, not their businesses. They agreed because you’re independent and because Ms. Romani is going as a profiler.”
Bart looked around at the other faces of the trusted Saints, seeing their expressions of doubt as well. It did not seem to sit well with any of them, taking an innocent woman into these kinds of meetings.
Before he had a chance to argue further, Mitch continued, “Look, I’ve had the opportunity to see Ms. Romani at work twice with the Charlestown police. She listens intently and has a way of drawing not only what someone is saying, but also adding an element that’s…that’s…hell, I don’t know. As if she can really see inside of someone.”
Scoffing, Bart shook his head. Great, now the fuckin’ FBI contact is enamored with her. She’s certainly spun her web…but not over me!
*
The highway lines passed along that afternoon, the sound of the engine the only noise breaking the silence in the cab of Bart’s truck. He and Faith had left Charlestown behind, driving first to Richland to meet with Miguel Escobar. Bart comprehended Miguel had agreed to a meeting only to try to exonerate himself of the kidnapping and to keep the DEA and FBI from digging too deeply into his businesses.
He wanted to ignore the woman sitting beside him but found his gaze continually straying to the side. When was the last time I tried to ignore a woman in my truck?
She faced the front, occasionally twisting her head to look out her side window. By now he had her profile memorized. Her complexion was difficult to describe…not olive tan and not pale, but a curious mixture of both. He wondered about her father, who had never been mentioned. Her large, dark eyes had not looked at him since they started the trip.
Bart thought back to what Jack said to him earlier. Work with her, but if you prove her a phony in the process, that’s fine. A smile crossed his face for the first time since he accepted this case. The chance to find Erik and prove her false at the same time appealed to him.
Faith had spent the last thirty minutes trying to keep her eyes off the wall of angry testosterone sitting next to her. His large truck cab felt too small, as his presence seemed to take up all the space. Why am I doing this to myself? How am I going to function if the only thing I feel is negative vibes pouring off him? I’m no
t psychic—I just get feelings. Oh, Babushka…I should have never given into the first time I noticed I was different.
She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and wiggled slightly in the seat to stretch her back. The tension building in her neck had morphed into a full-blown headache, but she did not dare ask him to stop for water to take an aspirin.
She became aware of him looking at her and for the first time during the trip, she turned her gaze toward the driver, surprised he was smiling.
Bart’s glance revealed she was finally looking at him, a confused expression on her face. Clearing his throat, he said, “I just thought that even if I don’t believe in your psychic abilities, there’s no reason why we can’t work well together on this. After all, we want to find Erik.”
She slowly nodded her head, but was still reticent. “What changed your mind? About working with me?”
“To be honest, Ivan and my boss have an agreement and it behooves us to do whatever we can to make sure we investigate without personal distractions.”
Personal distractions? She knew he was talking about his distrust, but the idea of him being interested in her as a woman had her blushing. Yeah, me and every woman within flirting distance and that sucks! He may be an arrogant jerk, but he was still a hot one, something her body noticed. But if all he sees of me is a fraud, then forget him! Forcing her thoughts from his muscular, rock-hard body, back to the matter at hand, she said, “Agreed. I can keep my personal opinion about you from interfering if you can.”
For a second, Bart’s smile faltered. Her personal opinion about me? What the hell is wrong with me? Quickly recovering, he plastered his famous smile back on his face, determined to easily charm his way into her good graces.
“So tell me what you thought of Ivan and Anton’s lists,” he prompted.
Unsure of Bart’s true motives, she decided to plunge ahead and give her opinion. “All of them have a lot to gain by financially crippling the Krustas empire.” She rubbed her aching head. “But to take a child is so different from a business decision.”