Saying it out loud made it feel even more terrifying. The Russian Mafia was deadly, but they killed purposefully and selectively. They adhered to a standard of sorts. A rogue hit man would have no rules to follow but his own.
Terry clicked his seat belt into place. “McAlexandar was shocked to hear Bates was murdered, but even more shocked by your suggestion that Constantine killed him.” Terry’s face became serious. “If you’re right about Constantine working on his own, you really should lie low.”
She wanted to argue, to push back, but she was starting to think he just might be right.
-
CHAPTER
23
MADISON PARKED THE DEPARTMENT CAR back at the station. There were too many unanswered questions about what the hell was going on in her city. If she went by McAlexandar’s reaction, Bates’s murder was definitely not a sanctioned hit ordered by Dimitre. And that actually left two possibilities, not just one.
She turned to Terry, who was reaching for his door handle. “If Constantine hasn’t gone rogue, he could be acting on someone else’s orders, and that means someone is trying to overturn Dimitre.”
“Another Russian powerhouse in Stiles?” Terry lowered his head, regarding her skeptically. “We’re barely big enough for one.”
“Stranger things have happened. I’m just saying how it could be.”
“Let’s say you’re right, just for a minute…” Terry shifted his body to face her. “Why would someone come up against Dimitre, and who would be brave enough?”
“I don’t know, but we need to find out.”
Terry was shaking his head. “This case has a lot of tentacles. Just when I think we’re getting somewhere, boom!” He clapped his hands. “Denied.”
Madison wasn’t even going to touch her partner’s choice of words.
“We need to look into who the power people are down the Mafia chain,” she said. “We’ve never been able to identify who took over as Dimitre’s right-hand men after Anatolli and Sergey were taken out.”
“All right. I see your point, but our first priority is finding out who killed Bates and Yasmine.” He paused. “And you can’t just say it was Constantine. We need proof.”
“You’re forgetting the other priority.” Her stomach soured thinking about Constantine being out there stalking her and her family.
“No, I’m not. We’ve got Stiles PD behind us looking for Constantine.”
“I know…” It still left her feeling powerless and at Constantine’s mercy, though.
He was watching her with a somber expression as if he’d read her mind. But his earlier word, tentacles, began to sink in. It had struck her as funny when he’d first said it, and maybe it was her quest to find some levity, but she snickered.
“And this is about my word choice.” Terry waved a dismissive hand toward her, and then pulled on the handle and opened the door.
One of his legs was already out when Madison said, “Sor…ry.” The word was fragmented by laughter.
“Uh-huh. You sound it.” He got out.
She joined him and locked the car. They both headed inside, and her phone rang. The caller ID said it was Troy.
“You go on ahead,” she told Terry. “I’ll catch up.” She waited until he was down the hall a ways before she answered. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” Troy asked, concerned.
Hearing his voice made her long for his touch, for his embrace. She just wanted to soak up the familiar comfort that she found in his arms. But given their last interaction, she wasn’t sure how things would be between them.
“I just got back to the station,” she said. “There was another murder.”
“Yeah, I heard. There’s certainly enough to keep everyone busy for a while.”
“No luck on tracking down Constantine, I take it.” It was a throwaway comment because if anyone had, he would be the first to notify her.
“No,” he said bitterly. “We’re making headway with the board members of Berger & Stein, though. I can fill you in. Meet me in the planning room.”
“See you in two minutes.” She hung up and hurried through the corridors of the station. She went by her and Terry’s desks to get Terry, and he was coming back from the bullpen with a cup of coffee. She wasn’t even sure why he drank the stuff. She’d been desperate enough before, but she wasn’t there now.
“Come with me,” she said to him and kept moving.
Terry fell in line. “Where are we going?”
“The planning room. I think Troy has some updates.”
“Let’s hope he has something.” Terry slurped his coffee, struggling to do so at the pace they were moving.
Madison went into the room first, and Troy looked up at her from the head of the table where he was standing. He’d been reading something he held in his hand. Madison guessed it was a report of some sort. His face fell when he saw Terry, and she wondered if she should have come alone. But this was an investigation, and Terry was her partner.
“You said you were making headway with the board members?” She’d keep things business despite the overwhelming urge to close the distance between them and hug Troy.
“Yeah. All backgrounds have been pulled and will be examined closely to see if any of them have ties back to the Russian Mafia.” He gestured to a two-inch-high stack of paperwork on the table. “These are some of them.”
“Anything of interest yet?”
“I wish I could say yes.” Troy pressed his lips together. “As for some good news, though, the warrant’s been signed and served for Berger & Stein’s client list.”
Hope flared inside her. “We have it already?”
“We’ve been assured it will be here tomorrow morning.”
The door opened, and Marc and Nick came into the room. Both reported to Troy for SWAT and were close friends of his. Of the two men, Nick and Troy were the tightest, and Troy had told Madison he thought of him as a brother.
“Hey, Madison,” Marc said, then passed a glance to Terry and nodded to him in greeting.
Nick came over to Madison and touched her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” She pasted on a smile, and her eyes caught Troy’s across the room. They were a cool green, but the shape of his brow and the intent gaze he had fixed on her told Madison that he wasn’t buying it. Of course he had the innate ability to see right through whatever wall she wanted to project to the outside world.
“Well, you’re braver than I would be if…” Nick didn’t bother to finish his sentence, but Madison knew it would have been along the lines of a Mafia hit man was after me.
Madison gestured to Troy. “You’re keeping this guy safe, I see.”
“Of course.” Nick smiled. “Not that this guy needs our help.”
“You know I need you guys,” Troy said.
Nick leaned into Madison. “Don’t believe that for a second. He gets his hands on Constantine, and—”
The door swung open, and Winston swept into the room. His eyes went straight to Madison. “I heard you were back.” He bobbed his head to Troy, Nick, and Marc. “I take it these guys are filling you in?”
“They were about to,” she replied.
“Do you know about the warrant for the client list yet?” Winston asked.
Madison nodded.
Winston stood with his back ramrod straight, the posture making his protruding gut that much more pronounced. “I understand that the woman who found Bates was murdered in her apartment.”
“That’s right.” She kept her answer brief, despite Winston’s grievance over her lack of communication. Things had worked like this from the beginning between the two of them, so why change now?
“Do we think Constantine is behind her murder?” Winston held her gaze.
With the way he was watching her, she
briefly questioned if McAlexandar had called him, but there would be no advantage for the man to do so.
“We have a suspect,” she said.
Winston let his gaze drift around the room, a subtle smile on his lips. “Do you care to elaborate?”
“Not right now.”
“Not right now?” Winston huffed and walked a few steps toward her. “I have the entire department hunting down Constantine.”
“As you should,” Troy interjected, stepping away from the front of the room and joining everyone closer to the door.
Winston jutted out his chin and put his hands on his hips.
“She received a death threat.” Troy squared his shoulders as he stood beside Madison.
“There is also a lot of manpower being dedicated to this accounting firm…” He rolled his hands, seeming to have forgotten the company name.
“Berger & Stein,” Terry offered and hitched his shoulders when she looked at him.
Winston leveled his attention on Madison again. “Everyone is searching for a connection between them and the Mafia because of your hunch that he killed Bates.”
“I still believe he did.” She wasn’t going to back down to this man. She never had before, even when he had McAlexandar pulling his strings. “Don’t forget that the firm’s founder and a former numbers man for the mob have a friendship that goes back years.”
“Bates’s father,” Winston said. “What’s Bates’s connection to Dimitre, though?” Winston arched a brow. “An assumption based on him meeting with Constantine?”
Madison shook her head.
“Of course,” the sergeant grumbled. “I should have known. There’s something else you haven’t told me about.”
“The prison logs showed that Bates went to see Dimitre the day before his murder,” she told him.
Winston’s face became a mask of shadows. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”
“Because I just found out.” A small lie, as she’d found out at about noon or so. She glanced at the wall clock. It was going on nine at night now.
“Just found out? Why don’t I believe that? We’ve got to start communicating, Knight.” His face rested in a scowl, and he was by no way including himself when he said we’ve. His attitude made it clear that, in this case, we referred to her.
She felt her cheeks flush at being reprimanded in front of three colleagues and Troy. She jutted out her chin. “I’ve been a little busy.”
Winston didn’t say anything but just held steady eye contact.
“None of the board members are standing out so far,” Nick said, slicing through the growing tension in the room.
The sergeant kept his eyes on Madison. “Well, we keep digging.”
“Has anyone started looking into known associates of the Mafia?” Madison asked.
“Officers have started surveillance on known business fronts, but so far no sign of Constantine,” Winston responded.
Madison nodded. “Good.” And it was. But while it was worth a shot, she had a feeling that Constantine wouldn’t be gracing any of them with his presence. It wouldn’t exactly be a wise choice because he’d have to know they’d be watching. And if he wasn’t working for Dimitre or was going rogue, who knew where he could be.
“Why did you ask about known associates?” Nick inquired.
Madison glanced at Nick, then at Winston. If her sergeant wanted communication… “We,” she began, inferring Terry, “have reason to believe that Constantine might be acting either on his own or under the orders of someone other than Dimitre.”
Winston glared at her. “Anything else you want to share?” When she didn’t speak, he added, “You said someone else. Who? I thought Dimitre was the boss in town.”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “That might be a matter of past tense.”
Winston frowned. “What makes you think this hit man is following another man’s orders? And please don’t tell me it’s a hunch.”
Madison glanced at Terry. It was far too early to mention their visit to McAlexandar. Until everything shook out, she didn’t want to bring him up if she didn’t have to. Winston was familiar with the fact that she and McAlexandar had never seen eye to eye, and he’d probably resort to questioning her ability to remain objective.
“It’s an angle we feel is worth exploring,” Terry interjected.
She turned to her partner and mouthed, Thank you.
Terry nodded subtly.
“It’s why it’s worth exploring I’d like to know about.” Winston cocked his head to the side.
“With Yasmine’s murder,” Terry continued, “we followed a lead and—”
“We followed a lead, and it’s too early to concern you with it at this point,” Madison finished.
“It’s too early to update your boss?” Winston fired back.
“I don’t want to waste your valuable time if it doesn’t pan out.”
If all else fails, resort to flattery.
Winston regarded her skeptically. “But you want manpower assigned to researching known associates?”
“It’s something we should be doing anyhow. We find them and we might find Constantine,” Troy reasoned.
Winston regarded him for a few beats. “Fine. For now, though, you guys should wrap this up for the day.”
Madison glanced at Troy and his men, then her partner. “Terry and I just picked up a homicide this afternoon,” she said to justify them staying around.
“And from what I understand, it also might be connected to Constantine. But might not.”
“Yes, but I’m not sure what that—”
“It has everything to do with it,” the sarge interrupted. “Forensics will have collected everything from the crime scene, and as you said, you already have a lead.”
“A lead we have yet to follow all the way through,” she said.
“Then I suggest you follow it all the way through,” Winston snarled. “But for right now, all of you guys should go home, get some sleep, and start again early tomorrow.”
Troy, Nick, and Marc didn’t report to Winston and were looking at one another as if they were confused.
Winston seemed to pick up on the underlying communication. “I realize I’m not your boss, but it’s a suggestion. Besides, weren’t all of you supposed to be off today?”
“Yeah, but there’s nowhere else we’d be given the circumstances. One of our own—” Nick glanced at Troy “—possibly more than one of our own, has been threatened.”
“And I appreciate that. But there are a whole lot of other officers who are fresh to their shift and haven’t been here all day.” Winston paused a moment. “Make sense?”
Marc bobbed his head side to side. “I am tired.” He regarded Troy with a look that spoke of an apology.
“Go on.” Winston opened the door for everyone to leave. “I’ll get the nightshift officers on known Mafia associates, and I’ll make sure surveillance is on your place all night,” he said to Troy, who nodded.
Madison balled her fists, angry and frustrated by the sergeant’s directive.
-
CHAPTER
24
“I CAN’T BELIEVE HE SENT us home.” Madison slipped off her shoes in the front entry of Troy’s house, still fuming over Winston making them call an end to the work day.
“Me either, really.” Troy walked past her and dropped onto the couch. Hershey came over to him, and Troy rubbed his ears and put his forehead to the dog’s.
“Yasmine was murdered, and it’s the first twenty-four for crying out loud.” She was pacing the living room and ran a hand through her hair. She cringed and wished she hadn’t. She needed a shower—bad. But how was she supposed to function normally when a hit man was out there knocking people off? And threatening her family?
Still, as much as she disliked
McAlexandar, she questioned his ability to actually pull a trigger and take a life directly. Somehow Yasmine’s death had to tie back to Constantine. Hopefully the footage from the apartment would come in the next day and they could get some answers. Even if Constantine managed to slip in without the landlord knowing, it would show on the recording.
Madison looked over at Troy. He was still petting Hershey, and the dog’s tail was wagging wildly.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked.
He drew his gaze from Hershey, but he seemed to do so reluctantly. When he met her eyes, their conversation from earlier in the day hurtled back to her. The hurt coming from him was tangible.
“What do you want me to say?” he asked indifferently.
“I don’t know… Something. Anything.”
“That’s a big help.” He turned back to Hershey.
Pain knotted in her chest as she kept her gaze on Troy. “I do love you, Troy,” she said, trying to reassure him.
“I know you do.” He didn’t bother to take his eyes off the dog.
She frowned. “But you don’t believe me.”
“If I know you do, I believe you.”
“Troy, will you please look at me?” She stopped in front of him, close enough to Hershey to have the dog spinning and nudging her for attention.
Troy complied and sank back into the couch. “I said all I had to say this morning. I’m not sure what you want from me. An apology?”
“Why would I—” She took a few deep breaths. She hated the disappointment in his eyes, the reserved and resigned body language. “I did move in with you.”
He remained silent.
“That’s the biggest commitment I’ve made in years. To anyone.” Defensiveness was building up within her.
Troy held the eye contact, his gaze probing hers.
“Now I don’t know what you want me to say,” she added.
He scoffed. “Guess now you know what it feels like.”
Power Struggle Page 17
