by Matt Lincoln
“I thought we agreed to no rough stuff,” I accused her, and I was only half acting. “We’re going by the book.”
“We said you were playing by the book,” she shot back. “This idiot isn’t going to give us what we need. Fine. We toss him for extradition now, and then I don’t have to see this ugly son of a bitch ever again. Our charges against him are nothing next to what he faces in New York.”
Fingers stopped whining long enough to ask, “They’re gonna extradite already?” He leaned over to his sleeve and wiped his bleeding nose on it. “Hell no. You can’t let them do that. Those guys out there? They’ll drop me before I get to Rikers. I came out here to escape all that.”
“How’s that working out for you?” Stark scoffed as she paced the room. She rounded on him, and he cringed. “You get away from those guys and come out here to do what, flip burgers?”
“I was trying to go straight.”
He craned his neck to see where she’d gone, only she had gone the other way to end up next to me. I liked how she was keeping him off balance. Maybe her time training with me had rubbed off.
“Some job you did,” she barked. “You flipped burgers so well that you ended up shooting the hell out of my office.”
“Living out here’s expensive.” He shrugged and looked at the table. “I don’t have many skills that, uh, translate to honest work.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you went down this path,” I pointed out. “It would’ve saved you a lot of trouble.”
“Right.” He shook his head as if we were the idiots. “You have no idea what it’s like to live in my uncle’s shadow.”
“How’d you end up working for Mister V?” I went for a calmer tone than I felt.
“How does anyone end up back where they started?” he asked with a sigh. “I called a cousin I trusted. She called Volkov, and he called me.”
Volkov. I kept my posture casual, but my heart pounded. Stark took her phone out and turned her back on Fingers even though his eyes were on me. With luck, they’d have someone on Volkov by the time we ended the interview.
The door to the room flew open, and a sweaty man in a pinstripe suit and rimless glasses huffed his way to the table. His weasely eyes darted between Stark, Fingers, and me several times as he assessed the situation.
“I’m Oliver Gorski, and this is my client.” He turned to Fingers. “You’ve been talking, haven’t you?” he accused his client. “How many times have I told you not to talk to police?” He took a closer look at Fingers' face. “Good God, how did that happen?”
“Never mind that. They figured it out,” Fingers told him. “They connected me to that thing in New York.”
Gorski frowned. “Is that so?” He narrowed his eyes at Stark and me. “I presume you have your evidence on hand?”
“I’ll have it compiled and sent to you,” Stark promised.
“I’m sure you will, now that he’s given you what you need.” He slapped his attache case on the table. “They’re fishing, Sugar, and you took the bait.”
Fingers' eyes widened as much as Gorski’s had narrowed. It was like they canceled each other out. Had the situation not been so dire, I would’ve found the entire thing funny.
“What we’re doing, Mr. Gorski, is trying to find a missing woman who is in danger,” Stark snapped. “His boss took her and then sent him and his buddies to our office with AK-47s. It’s more than reasonable to suggest that your client consider his own best interests.”
“What’s his assistance worth to you?” Gorski ventured with a direct look at me. “He doesn’t want to cross paths that can’t be uncrossed later.”
“Nothing in life is certain, Mr. Gorski,” Stark reminded him. She circled around and took her seat next to me. “I want something solid on Volkov so we can find him and this missing person.”
“Ah, yes, the missing MBLIS agent.” Gorski laughed. “Veronica somebody. I’m sure my client knows nothing about that.”
“Is that so?” I asked with a significant look at Fingers. The man looked away, and his attorney’s expression slid toward apoplectic. “It’ll go better for everyone involved if he’d just cooperate.”
Gorski got up. “You two came here in hopes of cajoling my client after he asked that I be brought in. Not to mention what you’ve done to his nose.”
“I ran into a wall,” Fingers protested. “It’ll be fine.”
Stark smirked. She had this guy pegged. He didn’t want to admit a woman broke his nose, not even to his own lawyer. Not only was this useful, but it also wasn’t on the record.
“If you help us, we’ll help you,” I told him.
“What do you have to offer?” Gorski demanded. “No offer, no play.”
Fingers eyed his attorney. “Hey, I liked the girl. She tried to help me even though she knew I was in with certain people. I should hate her because she was trying to bring down Mister Volkov, but she was nice to me when she didn’t have to.”
I glanced at Stark. Now we had two guys Ronnie had tried to help. Dammit, she was too kind-hearted for this kind of work. Or maybe we weren’t kind-hearted enough sometimes.
“That’s what they do.” Gorski took off his glasses and polished them. “They get you on their side so that you’ll hand them evidence without knowing about it.”
“Hey, I’ve known her since she was a teen,” I interjected. “She’s a genuinely nice person. I believe him when he says that she was trying to help. There are better ways to get in tight with a target, and you know it.”
Fingers nodded. “Yeah. She could’ve gotten my trust in other ways.”
“What do you want to do?” Gorski asked with his brows furrowed. “Are you going to implicate yourself on a federal agent’s behalf?”
Fingers stared at the table. He was quiet for a while.
“What’s it going to be?” I pressed.
“Look, there are people back home who want a piece of me,” he told us. “The guys here, they helped get me out of there. They saved my life, such as it is. If I betray them, I’d be spitting in their faces. No, worse. I’d be spitting in their faces and daring them to get to me. I won’t be safe nowhere.”
Gorski’s slimy smile made me want to serve him a knuckle sandwich with a side of palm juice.
“As you see, my client is not—”
“Now wait a minute.” Fingers turned to Gorski. “I ain’t done.” He turned back to us. “You really think she was trying to help me for real?”
“She wouldn’t have reached out to you like that if she wasn’t.” I was ninety-nine percent sure of that. Granted, the CIA trained their agents to get into people’s minds, but there was something about Ronnie that made me want to keep faith in her. “Doing something like that would risk her cover. If someone else had overheard and reported it to your boss, that could’ve gotten her into some pretty hot water.”
Fingers sat as far back as the chair and table restraints allowed.
“Shit, that’s what happened, isn’t it?” He shook his head. “It’s my fault. One of the other guys was there that night. He was playing pool, but maybe he walked up and heard.”
Maybe Meisha hadn’t accidentally tipped off Volkov’s men at the mall after all. Another possibility was that Meisha’s encounter and Ronnie talking to Fingers were taken together as reasons to suspect her. All I cared about at the moment, though, was that we were finally getting somewhere.
“I don’t know how much we can help you,” Stark admitted, “but the more you give us, the more likely the prosecution will take your help into consideration.”
Fingers nodded and turned to Gorski. “You need to go now.”
“What?” Gorski glared at him and then us. “You think about this. Think real hard.”
“Is that a threat, Mr. Gorski?” I demanded.
“A threat? Hardly. When a client is about to throw his life away, he needs to have a second thought.” The attorney stood and grabbed his attache case. “I’ll be in touch, Sugar Fingers
.”
Gorski stalked to the steel door and seemed to forget it had to be opened from the outside. I stood and took my time as I walked over to the door. My simple knock brought an officer to let us out.
“I’ll be right back,” I let Stark and Fingers know. Stark was sharp enough that I figured she knew what I was up to. “Don’t go anywhere,” I added with a wink.
Out in the hall, I faced Gorski. “You’re a smug son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow as if daring me to take a go. “You’re stepping way out of line, Agent Marston.”
“And you’re stepping over to the booking counter,” I informed him. “You’re under arrest for conspiracy.”
“I don’t think so,” he scoffed as the officers who’d heard me gathered. “Who do you think you are?”
“I’m the agent who’s gonna see your ass sent to prison.” I took a step closer. “The only way you could’ve known the identity of our missing person was if you were there yourself. That information was never released.”
His weasely eyes widened enough for me to see how bloodshot they were. Someone had either missed a lot of sleep or already been drinking that day. He spun as though he might flee, but then he saw the only way out was blocked by armed police officers who had no interest in his departure.
As Gorski was led back to booking, he stared ice daggers in my directions. That didn’t bother me. The only thing that bothered me was that I had no clue how extensive the syndicate influence was on Oahu.
CHAPTER 33
I returned to the interview room with an ice pack and Gatorade. Of all the boring vending choices, it was the least offensive. I opened one of Fingers’ cuffs and gave him the pack and drink. He thanked me as I went back to my seat.
“I didn’t wanna be like this,” Fingers said in a soft voice. “It’s just that, you know, it’s the family way.”
“It’s a thing,” Stark agreed. “Pressure to follow in your family’s footsteps is hard to resist.” She turned to me. “I never told you about my family’s plans, did I?”
“No, I don’t think you have.” I thought back over the past few months and couldn’t remember a single conversation about her past.
“My family is in insurance sales.” She wrinkled her nose. “All through high school, I had to work the reception desk at the family office. The only good part was that I had lots of time to finish my homework.”
“At least your family wasn’t into murder,” Fingers grumbled.
Stark shrugged. “It was still a family business, and they expected me to fall in line like my cousins. When they found out I had other plans, well, that caused upheaval. Insurance was a nice, safe profession, and I could’ve made decent money.”
“So you get it,” Fingers acknowledged. “See, in my family, you only go to college if you got the smarts to get a business degree. They pay for those guys to go to school so they’ll come back and make the family stronger.”
“Tell me a little about your parents,” Stark invited.
Fingers scoffed. “My dad, his cousin runs part of the Cullen family’s business. The Cullens and Mezzanottes fought over a chain of bakeries in New York City. My parents got married and took over those bakeries. Now whenever there’s a pissing match, my folks help smooth it over.”
“Mellens?” I blurted out.
Fingers sat a little taller in his seat. “Yeah, you heard of it?”
“I used to get those mini-pies when I was a kid.” Just thinking of those damn pies made my mouth water and stomach grumble. Loudly. “So that’s your family, huh?” At least we were getting somewhere with his identity.
“Until I left, yeah.” He took a swig of Gatorade and then slouched.
“Do you want us to keep calling you ‘Sugar Fingers’?” Stark asked.
“Nah, you can call me ‘Val.’ Everyone else does.” He put the ice pack up to his nose. “Except Mister V. He calls me ‘Teri.’ I hate that, but he’s the boss.”
“Where do you think he took Veronica?” Stark sounded conversational as if she hadn’t busted up his nose. “Oahu isn’t a big place, but there are a lot of hidey-holes.”
He nodded and swallowed. “You guys gotta promise to keep me safe. Volkov threatened to tell my family where I am if I don’t do what he says.” He looked away. “After talking to Alex… I mean Veronica, I told Mister V I want to try something different. Maybe take some online classes. He didn’t like that idea. He told me I’m not smart enough and that I’m only good for busting people up.”
“We’ll talk to people.” I couldn’t promise because it was out of my hands. “Like we said earlier, helping us right now can only be good for you.”
“And Veronica,” Stark added in a gentle tone. “Did you see her after her cover got blown?”
Fingers shook his head. “He kept her at his house. We weren’t allowed to go to the house except when he wanted us to do security at his parties and auctions.”
“Where did you usually meet?” Stark put her elbows on the table and folded her hands.
“He has an old building on the north side of the island. Some of us live there when we can’t afford rent. That’s where we train and plan stuff. The guys who have other jobs come in after work.”
“Would he have taken her to that location?” I asked with far more calm than I felt.
“No. I bet he took her to his beachfront place on the south side of Moloka’i.” He snorted. “It’s where he likes to get away from all the fuss, as he calls it. Sometimes he takes clients there.”
“Do you know the address?” Stark took out her phone.
“No, but I can show it to you on Google Maps.” He pointed to her phone. “He took some of us out there on his yacht once because some local kids were messing with his property.” A small laugh escaped him. “They showed up when we were on guard with our guns. We told them if they ever came back, we’d shoot them.”
“You didn’t, though,” I suggested.
“Oh, God, no. They were just dumb kids. It scared them, and their parents called the police. By the time they got there, we were gone. Nobody believed them, and Mister V got apologies from the parents.”
I had to admit it wasn’t the worst strategy in the world. Absolutely wrong, but not the worst. In my time, I’d come across people using bear traps and snares to snag trespassers.
Stark pulled up the island on Google Maps. Fingers zoomed in until the individual properties were visible. Using the street view feature, he was able to find the entrance. The property view was blocked by a tree line, but the satellite view showed us a house a little larger than the one we’d raided.
“Thank you for this,” I told Fingers. “Oh, and I have some news about your attorney.”
“I’m firing him,” Fingers told me. “He, uh… I need a new defense lawyer.”
“I know.” At his raised browsed, I laid the news on him. “He knew things he shouldn’t have. He’s Volkov’s guy, isn’t he?”
Fingers nodded. “He was there for everything, but I didn’t say that.”
I stood. “We’ll let you know when she’s safe.”
Relief washed over his face and through his shoulder. “Thank you, Agent Marston.” He looked at Stark. “I’m sorry for how I talked to you. I deserved that.”
“Uh, okay.” Stark blinked. “Just don’t do it again. Women aren’t pets.”
On the way out to the car, she shook her head a few times.
“Is something wrong?” I asked as I held the exit door.
“No, it’s just weird,” she said as she frowned at the building. “I think he’s being genuine, but I’ve never seen a reversal like that. It’s like he’s the school bully who gets called out. The counselors find out his home life sucks, and when he gets help, he turns out to be a nice kid.”
“Except that this guy may have murdered someone in New York City,” I reminded her. “And he and his buddies tried to kill Davis and me at the office.” I pointed to the sky. “And they
shot through the ceiling at you guys.”
“I know,” she said in a sharp tone. “You don’t have to remind me of all that. The thing is that I wonder if he murdered or killed this person. I’m going to have TJ do some searching. I bet we find a few things.”
“After we save Ronnie.” I unlocked the Ferrari and opened the door. The searing heat drove me back a few feet. “We’re going back to the office to coordinate this thing. If Ronnie’s not at the building Fingers told us about, we’ll haul ass to the beach house. I’m thinking we go in about two in the morning so that we have the best chance of taking them by surprise.”
Stark opened her door and got in. A soft, salty breeze blew through and stole a measure of the sun’s furor. I opened the top and pulled out of the police parking lot.
“We’re going to get her back, Ethan. I can feel it in my bones.”
I prayed Stark was right, but my worst fear was that when we found Ronnie, it’d be too late to save her.
CHAPTER 34
Sadie wielded her sledgehammer with the power of the emotional chaos she’d internalized over the past week. Most of the time, a person only saw their life-changing moments in the rearview mirror. This time, she saw it head-on, and she felt awash in confusion and excitement.
She smashed the hammer into a space between the studs. It was the last wall she needed to rehab in her bedroom. People told her to do the room all at once, but she’d decided to do it her way.
She smashed lower this time, and the aging drywall gave a sag almost of disgust. That’s what she’d experienced every day that she had to work with Wayne. Disgust and a little fear. That last day she’d reported in, she’d worried that he might follow her and Ethan. Granted, Ethan’s toughness had made it easier to relax, but then the bundle of emotions that night would’ve made her an easy target had Wayne tried to pull something.
She smashed more drywall in the next space between the studs. The hammer dented the section but did not go through, like it was reinforced. She swung again, and it bent inward but didn’t let go. Higher in that space, she was able to get the hammer through like in the other areas.
