Hijack in Abstract (A Cherry Tucker Mystery)

by Reinhart, Larissa

  “Who’s the special guest?” I hoped it was some famous Atlantan like Elton John or Tyler Perry.

  “Mr. Agadzinoff said he’s to be a surprise. You’re to meet him in the office.”

  Thirty-Six

  Miss David left me at the office door, strode down the hall, and disappeared through a doorway. The woman really needed to get a life outside Agadzinoff’s home. Her twenty-four-seven living-with-the-boss lifestyle made her edgy and irritable. Unless she liked living with the boss and she just found my presence irritating. I contemplated the thought of Rupert and Miss David getting busy for a horrifying second and then realized I had the perfect opportunity to replace the file.

  A murmur of voices hummed behind Rupert’s door. He wouldn’t miss me for a few minutes. I scooted toward Miss David’s office. The foyer was empty. The red room’s French doors closed. I took a quick glance out the front window, checking for the approach of dinner guests. Noting an HMV in the drive, I darted back to her office. I cracked the door and slipped inside the dark room.

  The overhead lights were off and the curtains drawn, but a desk lamp had been turned on. Light puddled on the desk. Stacks of piled files glimmered under the glare. Behind the desk, a dark shadow moved. I froze against the door. The person behind the desk cranked the gooseneck toward me, throwing the light in my direction and leaving themselves in darkness.

  “Who are you?” said the voice.

  “Are you Miss David’s assistant?” I asked, knowing Miss David needed no assistance. “She told me to wait in the office. Why is it so dark in here?”

  Keeping my back against the door, I fumbled against the wall for the switch.

  “Do not turn on light,” said the voice. “Who are you?”

  “I’m an artist hired by Mr. Agadzinoff to paint his portrait. Who are you?”

  “His nephew. Go. You are in wrong room.”

  “Does he know you’re in here?” I asked. “Does Miss David know you’re going through her files?” I could hear the stolen folder in my satchel screaming “hypocrite,” but I ignored it. “I believe if they knew you were in here, you wouldn’t act so stealthy.”

  “Stealthy?”

  “Mysterious. With the light shining in my face and the dark room and such.”

  “You don’t know what you talk about. Get out.”

  “Why are particles and verbs so difficult for y’all?” My hand found the light switch.

  For a long moment, we blinked out the sudden brilliance in silence. I gasped. The man standing behind the desk in a shiny, jade green track suit with an orange stripe had the heart shaped face, small eyes, and long nose of the hijacker. The long, blond hair was now black.

  “Holy shit,” I said.

  “What?” The hijacker touched his hair then the gold chain around his neck. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing,” I recovered. “I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Why are you in here?” He circled the desk.

  My hand grasped the door handle. “Like you said, wrong room. But you were acting suspicious, so I wanted to see what you were doing.”

  He pointed at me. “I acting suspicious? What about you?”

  “What about me?” I turned the door handle until I felt the pop of the latch dislodging. “Miss David told me to go to the office. I thought she meant this office.”

  “Let’s see if this is truth.” He strode forward and grasped my arm.

  “Hey! Get your hands off of me.” I kicked his shin.

  He dropped his grip.

  I turned the knob, yanked on the door, and ran down the hall to Rupert’s office.

  “What is your problem?” he yelled.

  I didn’t think but pulled on Rupert’s door and sprang into his office. Rupert hopped up from his chair behind his desk.

  I barely glanced at the large man sitting in the chair across from him. Charging forward, I slammed my hands on Rupert’s desk.

  “Someone is going through Miss David’s files. He says he’s your nephew.”

  “What?” exclaimed Rupert and pulled his attention to the doorway where the hijacker stood. “Yuri. What’s going on?”

  “He’s really your nephew?” I said and flinched. A hand snagged my wrist. I glanced at the hand and followed it to the body sitting in the guest chair. “Bear. What in the hell are you doing here?”

  Max tugged me away from the desk toward his chair. His icy blue gaze sliced through me. “Why are you here? You work with Rupert?”

  My gaze toggled from Max to Yuri, and back to Rupert. “Why is Mr. Max here? That’s your nephew?”

  “Ask her what she is doing in Miss David’s office,” said Yuri.

  “Wrong place, wrong time, obviously,” I said, feeling the guilt from Max’s file weighing down my messenger bag. “But your nephew’s going through the file cabinets. I thought you should know.”

  Should I tell him Yuri’s also suspected of armed robbery and murder? Max’s painful squeeze on my wrist told me to shut up. Maybe Rupert didn’t know. Maybe he did.

  But Max knew. He saw my composite drawing. I gave him an angry “you could be charged with accessory, conspiracy, and/or aiding and abetting” look. Max was no better than Ernie Pike. I let my eyes dance with the words I wanted to convey aloud. The Bear’s return look told me to keep my big mouth shut.

  Rupert sighed deeply. “Yuri is my black sheep. He’s always in trouble. What can I do? I am his uncle.” Rupert’s voice slid off its jovial tone and into irate. “I let him stay here and he repays me by sneaking around when he should be convalescing in his room.”

  Rupert pointed at Yuri. “Začynі dzvery.”

  Yuri shut the office door and slouched against it, pulling a phone from his pocket. He began to text, unconcerned with his uncle’s anger.

  I shook my head to find some focus. I needed to call the police. Rupert harbored a fugitive, whether he knew it or not. My phone was in my bag, but I needed to get out of the room first.

  “I should tell Miss David about her files,” I said.

  “Miss David left for the evening,” said Rupert. “I’ll let her know.”

  Max still had a grip on my hand. I yanked, but he held tight. The long lines in his face hardened and the small scar above his eyebrow pulsed. “Rupert, why is Miss Tucker here? Does she know what is happening in Halo?”

  “What’s happening in Halo?” My stomach lunged and took a quick dive.

  Rupert strolled to the gold and brass credenza. “Maksim’s business is in trouble. The Department of Labor is harassing him about his workers. I believe the Feds just had a bust of the SipNZip.”

  “Max doesn’t even know his workers,” I said, then turned on him. “Do you?”

  Max’s lips tightened. His clutch on my wrist began to cut off my circulation. I tugged, then kicked his chair. I mouthed “let go.” He ignored me. I abandoned Max’s vise grip and refocused on the trouble in Halo.

  “Are you his lawyer?” I asked Rupert. “Or are you representing the workers?”

  Max snorted.

  Rupert strolled back to his desk with a glass of vodka in his hand. “It will be one or the other, Maksim.”

  “I can’t believe your lack of compassion, Bear. Even if you let Elena manage the place, you should check on your workers,” I said. “Do you know they work twelve hour shifts almost every day? And they live together in a two bedroom apartment? It’s like they’re indentured servants or something.”

  Max ignored me, keeping his gaze on Rupert. “They chose to come to this country. It’s not my business.”

  Yuri looked up from his phone. “Cherry Tucker vedae Elena?”

  Rupert flipped a hand at him. “Keep out of this, Yuri. Stupid nephew. Idyët.”

  Max glared at Rupert and turned reproachful eyes on me. “Again. Why is she here, Rupert?”

  “A bad time, I know.” Rupert tossed back his vodka. “Miss Tucker is painting my portrait. I know you admire her work, so I sought her out. Not everything happens as
planned. She needed a place to stay. How could I refuse?”

  Max glanced at the Christmas tree and easel. “Rupert, you seek to undermine me in strange ways.”

  “I would like you to let go of my hand,” I said, coming to my senses. “Obviously, y’all have legal things to discuss. I’ll go back to my room.”

  “Yuri,” said Rupert. “See Miss Tucker to her room.”

  “Room?” Max’s eyebrows flew to his hairline. “No, you stay here where I can keep eye on you.”

  “I knew I should never have trusted you,” I hissed. “I thought you were trying to protect me. You were just messing with me to cover your own ass. Not to mention my pants.”

  “This is too much,” laughed Rupert. “Just what is going on between you two? The way Max spoke of your works, I had thought you meant something to him.”

  “She has been trying to have me arrested ever since we met.” Max’s grip tightened and I yelped. “I am always her first suspect. Maybe she is prejudiced against our people?”

  “He’s been corrupting our town with back room gambling since he moved to Halo. Can I help it if I have a nose for crime detection?” My gaze fell upon Yuri. I silently begged my eyes to quit with the Freudian slips.

  “Noses get cut off,” said Max. “I have tried to warn you.”

  I wiggled within his grip. “Were those the maneuvers you meant?”

  With a disgusted sigh, he released my hand.

  I teetered back, falling on top of my satchel, and felt my phone crunch under my tailbone. I scrambled to standing, flipped the satchel to my front, and rubbed my sore back.

  Rupert giggled. “You are both too much. This day that began so badly has improved tremendously.”

  “Rupert, this is your house,” I said. “Max might want me around, but I’m asking you if I can leave.”

  Rupert glanced at Max and then to the Christmas tree and easel.

  Surely, he didn’t want me to paint. I massaged my back and tried not to hyperventilate. I needed to call the police and report Yuri. I had no idea if Yuri was operating alone or with Max and Rupert.

  “I am undecided on how to proceed,” said Rupert. “My plans have been upset.”

  “I can paint tomorrow,” I said. “I’m fast.”

  “I had imagined you before your easel. I would stand in my suit before the tree.” Rupert skimmed a hand down his custom fitted, blue suit. “Maksim would walk in and see us. I pictured your anger, Maksim. It made me laugh.”

  “I see,” said Max. “Rupert, you misunderstood my relationship to Miss Tucker.”

  I felt my eyebrows twist into a what-the-hey arc. This pissing contest had warped Rupert’s brain. “Mr. Rupert, I’m not a hairdresser. You don’t cheat by stealing your friend’s portraitist.”

  “Miss Tucker said you were financing a show for her,” said Rupert. “You have her paintings.”

  “I was wrong,” I said. “Max is financing a show for my mortal enemy. An Amazonian two-faced blackmailer who, with the Bear’s help, has destroyed my career and run me out of town. Just so he can get into her curvy jeans.” I balled my fist and socked Max’s shoulder. “Disgusting pig.”

  “Goodness,” said Rupert. “I truly was mistaken.”

  “I know. I can’t even look at him. So, I’m gonna go.” I flipped the satchel to my back and marched to the door.

  Yuri looked up from his phone, smirked, and didn’t move.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “I need to leave.”

  Yuri pursed his lips and shook his dyed head.

  I turned around and stared at Rupert. “Your nephew won’t move.”

  “Let her go,” Max said. “Anyway, Yuri and I should talk.”

  I bit my cheek to keep from exclaiming any “ahas” or “double-crossers.”

  Rupert waved his hand and Yuri stepped to the side.

  “Don’t go far,” said Rupert. “Dinner is in a few minutes.”

  “Not hungry,” I said, but my stomach betrayed my words with a sound like an ice road trucker backing through a forty foot drift.

  With a foreign exclamation of shock, Yuri jumped to the side and opened the door.

  I traipsed through the doorway acting the air of someone who had no idea the person standing before them had robbed and killed another man at gunpoint. The door swung shut behind me. I glanced right, then ran left to Miss David’s office.

  Before I called the police, I wanted to see those files.

  Thirty-Seven

  Miss David’s office door stood open. I raced inside, grabbed the first file, and glanced at the name. Samuil Rybek. I tossed it to the side and looked at the next. Anatoly Navitski. I pawed through the rest, but the names meant nothing to me. Perhaps they worked at other SipNZips Max owned. If the Department of Labor was involved, someone had blown the whistle on the workers. Not surprising, considering the terrible hours they worked. Not to mention the illegal stocking of food from possibly hijacked trucks. Max and Yuri must have been working together.

  My gut hurt. So did my heart.

  I snagged Little Anatoly and Sam’s files, shoved them in my bag, and took off again. Flying out the front door, I danced in the circle drive and tried to jog my brain into a quick plan of action. The gargantuan Hummer sat in the driveway. One of Max’s many vehicles. I tried the door handle. Locked.

  “Why are you trying to run? Call the police, you idiot,” my brain screamed.

  I pulled my phone from my satchel and glanced at the house. Atlanta police would arrive quickly to make Yuri’s arrest. They might bring in the Fulton County Sheriff’s Department, too. A lot of back up would be needed for a man who shot an innocent truck driver and a witness in cold blood. Rupert and Max could be held in a standoff situation. Panicked, desperate men took hostages. Happens all the time, particularly in domestic violence situations.

  Oh hell, I’ve got to get the innocent people out of the house, I thought. Did Rupert have any more servants?

  I ran toward the garage and dialed Luke’s number.

  “Can’t talk. We found Sharp. You’re safe,” said Luke and hung up.

  “Shit,” I screamed at the phone. “I am not safe.” The garage doors were shut. I kicked the door and cussed Nik for not showing up on the day I needed him.

  I dialed 9-1-1 and chugged my little legs back up the hill toward the front door.

  “What is your emergency?” said the dispatcher.

  “I’m at Rupert Agadzinoff’s house. His nephew, Yuri, is the perp who hijacked and killed the driver of a Dixie Cake truck as well as Tyrone Coderre, a copper thief.”

  “Slow down. What is your emergency?”

  “Too long to explain. There’s a suspected felon at 4201 Northside Drive. Possibly armed. Could turn into a hostage situation. Send a team.”

  “A crime has taken place?”

  “Mr. Agadzinoff is harboring a fugitive and doesn’t know it. This is taking too long,” I shouted. “I’ve got to get people out of this house. Call the Forks County Sheriff’s Office and get the back story. Just send a team to this address.”

  I shoved the phone in my pocket and catapulted the steps to the front door. Cracking the door open, I peeked inside. Yuri mounted the grand staircase, a gun in his hand. Most likely on his way to visit my room. I pressed a hand over my heart to shove it back in place and waited for him to turn the corner on the landing.

  Slipping through the door, I ran down the hallway with my satchel hammering my back. At Rupert’s office door, I paused and listened, but couldn’t hear talking. I continued down the hall and pushed through the kitchen door, taking no time to admire the luxurious modern design. I found the door to the garage, smacked the buttons to open the doors to all three bays. My poor truck remained gutted.

  “You’re still here?” said Max. “Why can’t you do anything simply?”

  I screamed, and he clamped a hand over my mouth.

  “Quiet,” he said.

  I bit his finger and his hand flew off.

  “Get you
r paws off of me,” I said. “You’ve been yanking me around all week, figuratively and literally. Where’s Rupert? The police are on their way.”

  “I thought as much knowing you,” he said. “Rupert is resting.”

  “What do you mean resting?”

  “Yuri left the room. I took care of Rupert. Come on.”

  “Surprised you didn’t pull a gun and blow them away.”

  “I left Glock at home.” He pushed me into the garage. “Now.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “No more arguing,” said Max. He grabbed me around my waist, threw me over his shoulder, and jogged down the steps of the garage and out to the driveway.

  I kicked and pounded his back with my fists, but my struggles couldn’t match his he-man strength. The bloop-bleep of his car alarm rang, and he tossed me into his Hummer. Before I untangled my limbs, he climbed into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine. I scrambled to sitting and slid to unlock my door. Max hit the power lock, floored the beast, and cut across the circle and down the driveway. He sped out of the drive and down the street.

  “You’re kidnapping me,” I yelled and leaned over to hit him.

  He trounced the brakes.

  I launched forward, ramming my nose into the dashboard.

  “Put on your belt,” said Max, cranking the wheel. “I’m taking you home. The police will find me soon enough, but first they’ll have Yuri.”

  “You double-cross your own partners? Snake.” I slouched against the seat, holding my nose. “I hope Miss Gladys strips you blind. I can’t wait to testify at your trial.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Max cut his eyes toward me. “You have to answer for your own part in this, you know.”

  “What part is that? The part where I tried to help an old woman and orphan and have nearly gotten killed for it?”

  “You betrayed me,” Max’s voice rocked the vehicle. “Your dedication to finding me guilty brought this on. I had once thought you mischievous prankster, much like my sister who sought to get me in trouble with my mother.”