Leopard's Run

by Christine Feehan

  Now she sounded like the wife of a powerful man like Fyodor. She gave orders and clearly expected everyone to follow them. She hadn’t freaked out over the dead body, and she’d chosen Kyanite to stay behind because it was going to take some doing to clean him up.

  “He’s going to need first aid,” Ashe said.

  “No worries. At this point, I should apply for med school,” Evangeline quipped, but she sank into the chair Ashe and Rodion took her to. “Who is he?”

  Kyanite was going through the assassin’s pockets. “I don’t recognize him, but then, I didn’t meet too many of Lazar’s soldiers. He appears to have come from Lazar’s lair.” He came up with a wallet. “ID’s a fake. It says he’s from Bulgaria. He’s definitely leopard, and he was fast and strong. He nearly tore my guts out.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the man’s shirt pocket. “These are Russian. He gave up his identity, but couldn’t give up his smokes. That figures. He has three weapons on him.”

  “How did he get into the kitchen when there are men patrolling and more on the roof?” Evangeline demanded.

  “They’re leopard, Evangeline, just like we are,” Kyanite said softly. He pressed his fingers to his forehead. “We’ll go through this again and again until we figure out how he got in here. We’ll dam up the holes.”

  He looked up at Ashe. “You’d better get out there, honey, before someone gets suspicious. A break is one thing, but both of you back here talking to us—no one is going to buy that—not even if you admitted to dishes breaking. Not if they come in often and know how Evangeline is about her business.”

  Ashe pushed the swinging door outward but looked back toward Evangeline. “I think you’re all a little crazy,” she said, overly loud, and laughed. Even to her own ears, her laughter sounded a little hollow, but it was the best she could do.

  She took a step toward the display cases and counter when her shoe caught her eye. She’d washed up, but she hadn’t cleaned her shoes. Drops of blood were splattered across the toe. She glanced toward Rodion, who had followed her out, and then deliberately looked down at her shoe.

  “Wait, Ashe, your shoe’s untied.” He dropped down to his knee, at the same time reaching for the damp cloth that hung near the espresso machine. He wiped the drops of blood, putting a little strength into it to make certain he removed the stains.

  “Thanks. I have a bad habit of sitting around with my bare feet up.” She dared to look around the bakery. The crowd of policemen hadn’t thinned out. She went to the counter to take orders. Thankfully, no one was angry because they’d left the counter unattended for a few minutes. “Who’s next?”

  Ray was at the front of the line. “You should put in a deli, Ashe.”

  She didn’t like the way he said her name, as if he thought it was fake. Timur thought it was as well. She liked her name. It was unusual and had been given to her by her deceased parents. That made it extra special.

  “If we did that, we’d be a deli, not a bakery. Most of our customers like our pastries and desserts, Mr. Harding.”

  “Call me Ray. Did you break all the dishes? It sounded like it.”

  “It felt like it, cleaning up the mess. I tripped over a mop and then Kye did the same.”

  He leaned his elbow onto the counter and studied her face. “I’d like us to be friends. At least call me Ray instead of mister. Will you do that?”

  “I can do that,” Ashe said. “If you stop asking me out. I can’t go out with you because I’m already in a relationship with someone.” She wanted to roll her eyes as the lie slipped out of her mouth. The last thing a man like Timur would want, no matter what he said, was a relationship. He might think his male leopard claiming her female leopard meant they’d be together, but sooner or later he’d be bored. Still, if it stopped the nonsense Ray Harding was handing out, then she was all for calling the whacked-out, crazy-on-fire, astonishing sex a relationship.

  Ray stood up straight, annoyance flashing across his face. Somewhere a red flag went off in Ashe’s mind. Ray seemed easygoing enough until things didn’t go his way. Men like him didn’t always make the best boyfriends or partners. She set his cup in front of him, punched in the amount for his drink and held out her hand for his card.

  “Just who are you in a relationship with?” Ray demanded, sounding like a jealous lover.

  “Timur Amurov,” she answered and turned the iPad around so he could leave a tip if he wanted and sign the line.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? This is like history repeating itself.” He signed and then raised his voice. “Did you hear that?” He partially turned toward the others sitting at the various tables. “Timur fucking Amurov. She’s just like Evangeline. She likes things rough.” He caught her wrist when she would have turned away. “I can give it to you rough,” he hissed, his voice low so his friends couldn’t hear.

  Before Rodion could react, Jeff was there, very gently removing her arm from his partner’s viselike grip. She raised her lashes to take a good look at Jeff’s face. He knew exactly what Ray was like and didn’t care for it. Jeff might flirt with Evangeline, knowing she was married, but the attraction was genuine. She was pretty certain he was a straight-up good cop, not one who would take a bribe.

  “Ray can get enthusiastic when he likes a woman,” Jeff said with an easy smile. “That looked like he gripped you a little hard.”

  She rubbed at the sting around her wrist. “It’s fine, but I don’t like being manhandled.”

  “You could have fooled me,” Ray snapped. “Timur? You’d better get used to getting roughed up if you’re dating him.”

  “Please go away.” She wiggled her fingers in a shooing motion toward the door. “Jeff, take him away before I make a formal complaint against him.” She said it loud enough that the other cops in the room turned around and one stood up, presumably the man in charge.

  “You aren’t going to be seeing too much of your friend once he shows his face here,” Ray snarled and shook off Jeff’s hand.

  The older man who had stood came up to the counter and gestured toward the door. Ray nodded abruptly and then went out, the older man following him.

  “Is Timur in some kind of trouble?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Jeff said. “We just want to question him. A tip came in, and we have to follow every lead. We would very much prefer if you didn’t get in touch with him regarding this matter.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t own a cell phone.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “How could you not own a cell phone? Are you living with him? A woman should at least have a phone if she’s going to be on her own.”

  “That sounded just a little bit sexist. Why wouldn’t she be on her own without a phone?” Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Rodion. His hand was down by his side and he was texting with one thumb, presumably sharing that half the police department waited in the bakery for Timur’s return. She was sure Evangeline had already informed both Timur and Fyodor and Kyanite had as well.

  “I’m not trying to be sexist,” Jeff objected. “I’m just saying a woman alone can be considered prey for certain types of criminals.”

  “Like your partner?”

  “Ray has a chip on his shoulder regarding the Amurov family. Crispin, another one of our friends, disappeared. There was evidence that Crispin was a dirty cop, but Ray believes it was manufactured. He also believes Crispin was killed by either Fyodor Amurov or Timur. Of course, at that time, Fyodor was living under the alias Alonzo Massi.”

  There was a distinct accusation in that. She tilted her chin at him. “What do you believe?”

  He sighed. “I believe Crispin was dirty and got in over his head. I wanted to believe it was Fyodor because Evangeline—” He broke off and then tried again to be more tactful. “She’s a good woman. I hated to see her mixed up with a man I know is a criminal. I can’t prove it, Ashe, but in my gut, I know it. A cop has to have good instincts, and mine have saved me a few times.”


  “Did your instincts tell you that your friend Crispin was a dirty cop?”

  He sighed and then shook his head. “No, they didn’t. I suppose I wasn’t listening because I didn’t want to know. It’s hard when it’s your friend.”

  She could understand that. Rodion had slipped his phone back into his pocket and was once more reading a book. He lifted his hand, and she rolled her eyes. “That’s my cue to bring his majesty more coffee.”

  “And those cinnamon cookies,” Rodion added, without looking up.

  She made a face, and Jeff laughed. “Since Evangeline started this bakery, those apple-cinnamon cookies of hers have become so popular she has to make triple the batch she used to.”

  “They are good,” Ashe conceded. “I find myself sneaking one every now and then.” She made Rodion his espresso and put three cookies on a plate to take them to his table. “I’m not a waitress,” she hissed at him.

  He grinned at her, unrepentant. “I was afraid the boss would walk in and catch you giving that cop an eyeful.”

  She narrowed her gaze on him. “I wasn’t giving him an eyeful of anything.” Nevertheless, she looked down at her shirt to make certain she was covered up.

  He laughed at her. “You’re so easy, Ashe. You’re going to have to be faster than that to keep from being the target every time we want a laugh.”

  She flicked him behind his ear with her index finger just the way her mother had often done to her when she was behaving in a manner her mother didn’t find acceptable. She made her way through the tables back to the counter where she felt safer. She cast several anxious glances at her shoes, praying Rodion had gotten all the blood spatter off. Since no one had called her to stop so they could examine damning evidence, she thought she might be out of the woods.

  Evangeline joined her to serve the evening crowd, and just as the last of them left the store, the black town car pulled to the curb and the room went electric in anticipation. Evangeline looked up and smiled as Timur came through the door, glanced around and then moved all the way inside. Ignoring the cops spreading out in the room, he went straight to Ashe, reached over the counter and caught her shirt in his fist. He pulled her toward him.

  She wanted to tell him so many things. Warn him. His gaze dropped to her mouth and he settled his lips there as if coming home. It felt like coming home and going straight for the bedroom to Ashe. The moment his mouth was on hers, the rest of the world and all the danger in it dropped away. She was blind and deaf to anything or anyone but Timur. She wanted to press her body tightly against his, preferably without a single stitch between them.

  The moment he touched her, she went up in flames. He reached out with both hands and lifted her across the counter, still kissing her, his tongue singeing her soul, branding her, scoring so deeply she knew she would never get him out of her bones. When he lifted his head and smiled down at her, once she was able to see straight again, she noted that his eyes were blue flames.

  For a moment Ashe was elated. She wasn’t alone in her terrible need of him. And then she looked around. The police officers she’d been serving coffee and pastries to were all on their feet in a semicircle around Timur and her, weapons drawn. He’d known. Timur had known the cops were waiting for him because the others had let him know. He’d deliberately come in and kissed her, making them think his entire attention had been on her—making her think that.

  He slowly lowered her feet to the floor. “Gentlemen. I’m armed. I have a concealed weapons permit in my wallet along with my ID in my left pocket. The gun is in a holster on my left as well.”

  She hadn’t even felt the weapon. She tried hard to get her breathing under control. It had been a crazy day. While she’d been serving police officers, Kyanite had been taking a dead body out the back, wrapped in a tarp, or more likely because he knew eyes were on the bakery, he’d hidden it somewhere inside. She shivered.

  “It’s going to be okay, Ashe,” Timur murmured, his voice gentle.

  She hated him for that tone. He sounded like she meant something to him other than a cover he was using. Damn it all, why did she have sex with him? Now he had it in his head that he could use her for anything he needed, including distracting cops. No matter what he said to her, she had to keep disbelieving, because if he was being deceptive, her heart would shatter.

  “I’ve called our attorney,” Evangeline said.

  “You’re not under arrest,” the older gentleman said while Jeff stripped the gun from the holster and patted Timur down. He was thorough about it. “We need to detain you in order to ask you a few questions.”

  “You brought an army to do that? If you’d phoned ahead, I would have met you at the police station,” Timur said. He sounded calm. Reasonable. As if he wasn’t in the least worried.

  “I’m Detective Wayne.” The older man indicated one of the empty chairs at the largest table where he’d been sitting. “Please take a seat. I don’t think we need handcuffs, although I want Jeff to read you your rights, just so you’re aware anything you say can be used against you.”

  “Why so many?” Timur asked.

  “We thought your brother would be with you, and we expected some resistance,” Wayne admitted. “He usually comes for Evangeline.”

  Ashe heard the lie in his voice and it took everything she had not to call him on it.

  “Do you need to question him as well?” Timur asked. “We can call him and get him down here, or better yet, so you don’t taint Evangeline’s business, we could meet you at the police station. That would have been much more polite. You didn’t need to fuck with her or Ashe to ask me questions.”

  Ashe couldn’t believe how calm he sounded. His heartbeat was pure steadiness. She could hear it. The detective’s heart beat far faster and harder than Timur’s.

  “Ashe, can you get the door and lock it?” Evangeline asked. “I don’t want my customers to be afraid to walk into my bakery.” She glared at Wayne. “You and your men have lost your privileges. Sheesh. Whatever you think Timur’s done wasn’t worth ruining my business.”

  “It’s a threat, Evangeline,” Timur said. “Scare tactics. If I don’t cooperate, you lose everything. Isn’t that the way this works?” He directed his query to the detective.

  Ashe hadn’t thought of that. It hadn’t occurred to her that Evangeline’s business might be hurt by the police officer’s actions. It was no wonder Timur had come at the end of the business hours. He’d made certain to drag the wait out until Evangeline could close her doors and most of her customers would never witness the police questioning Timur so publicly.

  “Of course not,” Wayne denied.

  Jeff read Timur his rights, and then asked Timur if he understood them.

  “Do you know Emilio Bassini?” Wayne asked.

  Ashe didn’t know the man, but she recognized the name. Before, when she’d researched for the stories she wanted to write, she’d studied as many of the reputed crime bosses as possible. Emilio Bassini’s name had come up often.

  “Yes, of course. He comes here to the bakery, and sometimes my family does business with him,” Timur said readily.

  Ashe winced. Her inclination was to tell him not to say a word until the attorney was present. Evangeline seemed to have him on speed dial. There was a reason for that.

  “What is the nature of your business with him?”

  Timur shrugged. “You’d have to ask Fyodor.” He leaned back in the chair, sprawling his legs casually in front of him. He looked deceptively lazy—a leopard pretending to doze, but in reality, ready to kill. “It has something to do with one of the tire shops, I think.”

  Ashe leaned against the counter, but Evangeline tugged at her arm and indicated the few remaining pastries. Together they began putting everything away. Evangeline baked fresh every morning so the last of the baked goods were put in a bag to take to the shelter. Ashe began cleaning their espresso machine while Evangeline wiped the display cases down. She caught up the remaining pot of coffee and whisked it i
nto the kitchen to pour the contents down the drain, glaring at Jeff when he tried to get another cup.

  Timur answered the questions Wayne put to him in vague terms. When the Arnotto lawyer showed up, he asked a lot of his own questions. He seemed to know all about the business between the Amurov family and Bassini. Ashe tried to listen in on everything, but there didn’t seem a specific reason for the questions. As far as she could tell, Emilio Bassini was in the best of health and whatever business the Amurov family had done with him seemed to be legitimate and aboveboard.

  “I don’t get it,” Ashe whispered to Evangeline as she rinsed dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “Why the big show?”

  “I think they’re after the books.”

  “What books?”

  “My books,” Evangeline said. “They can’t conceive that Fyodor runs legal businesses. He works as a manager for Siena Arnotto and her various businesses. They have subpoenaed the books of nearly all the businesses he runs, both for her and for our family. When they couldn’t find anything, they began going after the books for all the Amurov businesses. They didn’t find anything there either. This place was mine before I married Fyodor. I don’t think they believe it could have made so much money so fast without us doing something like money laundering or selling drugs, along with the pastries. Or maybe a few guns, I could hide them in the cannoli.”

  Ashe couldn’t help but laugh, even though she detected a little bitterness. “I’m sorry, but the visual on that was good.”

  Evangeline’s answering smile was slow in coming. “This is bullshit. They really are trying to ruin my business.”

  “More like blackmail you into cooperation.” Ashe pulled open the door to the walk-in freezer carefully. Her stomach dropped. Sure enough, there was a rolled tarp under the shelves. She closed the door quickly and dropped the chain lock into place.