Way Off Plan

by Alexa Land

  Sokolov rose to his feet and smiled at me, his eyes cold as he said cheerfully, “Well, I must be going. It was a pleasure meeting you, son.”

  I trailed him to the door of my apartment, and pulled his gun from the waistband of my shorts. I ejected the magazine into my hand, then pulled back the slide and checked the chamber before handing the gun back to him handle-first, dropping the bullets into my pocket. He was probably reading a lot into that. It may have told him I understood he was a threat. Or maybe he just thought I was acting like a police officer. Regardless, I wasn’t about to hand a loaded gun back to this thug.

  “I’ll be seeing you soon, Jamie,” he said with a reptilian smile, before turning and sauntering down the hall.

  I closed the door and let out my breath, slowly. Even his parting words, simple as they were, came across as an ominous threat when delivered by Gregor Sokolov. There was something evil about that man. Soulless. Ice cold. I counted to ten and then clicked the deadbolt on my door – best to wait until he was out of earshot so he wouldn’t know he’d rattled me enough to bolt the doors. Then I went into the bedroom and located my cell phone, and dialed Dmitri’s house.

  Catherine answered, and I said, “Hey, it’s Jamie. You ok?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “How did the meeting with your father go?”

  “I’m really not sure,” she said. “He started asking me a bunch of questions about you and Dmitri. I tried to tell him I didn’t know anything. But I always feel like he manipulates me into revealing more than I intend to.”

  “He was just here,” I said, sinking onto my mattress.

  “What? Oh my God! Why? I really tried not to let him know you two were serious, Jamie, I swear.”

  “I know. Judging by the amount of intel he had on me, I think he’d been planning to come and see me even before your visit. He had a whole litany of extremely subtle threats all lined up and ready to go.”

  “Christ. Have you called Dmitri yet?”

  “No. I wanted to call you first, make sure you were ok after going to your father’s office.”

  “Dmitri is going to be so pissed that my father came to see you. I mean, so pissed. Shit. He’s going to go and confront him when he hears this.” Catherine was pacing around as she ranted, high heels clicking on hardwood. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell him. Well, shit, we kind of have to tell him, don’t we? But damn, this is going to stir up a whole fuckload of trouble.” Her pacing accelerated – click, click, click, click.

  “Look, let me be the one to tell Dmitri, alright?”

  “Yeah, ok. It’ll probably be better coming from you. And maybe do it in person, not over the phone. You know, in case you need to physically restrain him,” she said. “In fact, tying him to the bed first might be a way to go.” I had to wonder if she was kidding.

  “Is Dmitri home yet?”

  “No.”

  “Do you really think you can avoid blurting this out the moment he walks in the door?” I asked.

  “No. So it’s a good thing I’m going out tonight. Although, shit, that’s another thing Dmitri’s going to be pissed about.”

  “What?”

  “I kind of made a date with one of my father’s employees.”

  I raised an eyebrow and asked, “Employee in what capacity?”

  “Oh, you know. Personal assistant. Driver. Bag man.”

  “What?”

  “I’m kidding. Kind of. I’m not actually sure what he does. But I’ll find out. After I jump his bones.”

  “Christ, Catherine. Don’t we have enough problems right now without you being reckless?”

  “Wow, you sounded exactly like my cousin just then. Eerie.”

  “I’m serious. Why are you going out with a thug?”

  “Because he’s cute. And because, unlike all the guys in New Haven, this one isn’t freaked out about the fact that I’m the daughter of a crime boss.”

  “Do you usually lead off with that at parties?” I asked her.

  “Well, no. But you know what I mean. I’m forever worried about what people will think if they find out about my family. It prevents me from getting close to most men, because eventually, you’re expected to take ‘em home to meet the family, right? And can you just see how that’d go in my case? ‘Hey, so, this is my cousin that I’m engaged to, and that’s my dad, who may have offed a few people in his rise to power in the Russian mafia.’ Awesome.”

  “Ok, I get it. So what time is Luca Brasi picking you up?”

  “Oh, do not throw Godfather references at me, you culturally insensitive Mick.”

  “Now who’s being culturally insensitive?”

  “It’s not even the right cultural reference,” Catherine went on. “There’s a world of difference between the Russian mafia and the Sicilian mafia. I would think you’d know that, cop.”

  As we were talking, I’d slipped on a pair of flip flops and found my keys, and was locking up my apartment as I said, “I’m on my way over. At least let me meet this guy before you go out with him, ok?”

  “Fine. You have fourteen minutes. He’s picking me up at six and we’re taking off as soon as he gets here. So if you miss him, you’re S.O.L.” Then Catherine added, “Oh hey, there was one more thing I wanted to tell you. I saw something at my father’s office, a key. Ask Dmitri about the Packard when you see him.”

  “Ask him about the what?”

  “The Packard,” she said with exaggerated slowness, as if she was talking to a mentally challenged three year old.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just ask him. I need to get ready for my date. Thirteen minutes. Tick Tock.” And she hung up on me.

  I ended up pulling into Dmitri’s driveway just as a silver Prius parked illegally at the curb. I entertained myself by imagining that ad copy: Prius: today’s choice for the young urban criminal on the go. Save the environment while committing class one felonies. Ok, so I really didn’t have a future in advertising. But I did find humor in this guy’s choice of vehicles.

  I waited at the foot of the stairs as an enormous guy unfolded himself from the car and crossed the sidewalk to where I stood. He was a six-five wall of solid muscle, but his face was surprisingly boyish. “Hi,” I said, “You must be here for Catherine.”

  “Yup. I’m Joe Rudin.” He stuck out his huge hand and I shook it.

  “Jamie Nolan.” Joe Rudin was no poker player. At the mention of my name, he looked startled. I grinned and said, “So you’ve heard of me.”

  “Yeah. Uh, your name’s come up with my employer.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Joe Rudin casually tucked his hands in the pockets of his khakis and looked me over. Then he said, “So, Jamie, you’re out here intercepting me on the sidewalk. Does that mean you have a problem with me going out with Catherine?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether you pose a risk to her safety.”

  Joe grinned at that. “She’s my boss’s daughter, Nolan. If she so much as catches a cold while she’s out with me, I’m a dead man. I’m the one taking a risk going out with her, so I’ll be guarding her with my life every minute we’re together.”

  “If it’s so risky, why are you going out with her?”

  His grin got a lot bigger. “Have you seen Catherine Sokolov? Well, then again, you’re dating her gay cousin. So maybe you haven’t noticed that she’s smokin’ hot.”

  After a beat I said, “Ok,” and turned and led the way up to the front door. I decided to knock, rather than give away the fact that I had a key to Dmitri’s house to one of Sokolov’s men.

  “So, you’re cool with this?” Joe asked.

  “Sure, why not? You’re right that if you harm a hair on her head, her father’s going to cut your balls off. Hell, if you don’t treat Catherine right, she might cut your balls off herself.”

  Catherine swung the door open a few seconds after I knocked, and in a heartbeat went
from smiling at Joe to glaring at me. “Well?” she asked as I stepped past her into the foyer.

  “Nice guy. You two have a good time,” I said with a wink.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yup.”

  Catherine regarded me for a long moment, hands on her hips. I noticed she was dressed like a tall, blonde version of my best friend, in a tasteful black dress that actually reached the general vicinity of her knees. Then she said, “Ok then. Good luck with Dmitri.” She turned away from me and flashed her date a smile, then linked her arm with his and said, “Hi Joe. Let’s get going. I want to hit a couple clubs before dinner, and we have reservations at eight.” Poor guy. Hurricane Catherine was going to wear him the fuck out.

  I went to the kitchen and grabbed a carton of ice cream and a spoon, then hopped up on the counter and pried open the lid. I’d somehow skipped lunch, and was starving.

  After just a few minutes I heard the Maserati pull into the garage. And then Dmitri was stepping through the door to the kitchen, hitting me with a dazzling smile as he caught sight of me. “Hey baby,” he said, crossing the room to me and taking the ice cream from my hand, then kissing me as he deposited the carton on the counter. “Mmm, you taste like chocolate. But stop eating this. I made us dinner reservations, I thought we’d go out for a change.”

  “Good idea.”

  He pulled back and looked at me. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

  “Damn. And here all day I’ve been thinking I have this killer poker face.”

  “You do. But you also have a very subtle tell,” he said. So my lover was a poker player, too.

  “What’s my tell?”

  He ran a fingertip lightly over my left eyebrow. “You frown slightly, just with this one eyebrow when you’re trying to keep your expression purposefully neutral.”

  “Wow, you’re good. You would have made a hell of a cop, actually.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I would have failed the required background check,” he said, pushing my knees apart so he could stand right in front of me and take my face in his hands. “And you’re stalling. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, really. I do have a few things to tell you, but they can wait until after dinner.”

  “I don’t do suspense, Jamie. At all. I really need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong. But you’re still probably going to flip out when I tell you, and that could have very bad repercussions. Catherine thinks I should tie you up before I talk to you, and she may have a point,” I said lightly.

  “Where is Catherine?”

  “She’s on a date. That was going to be story number two, after the first bombshell.”

  “Who’s she with?”

  “Joe Rudin.”

  He considered that for a minute, and then said, “Well, if she has to go out with one of her father’s men, Joe’s probably the least bad choice. So what’s the bombshell?”

  “What does Joe do for your uncle?”

  “He’s an accountant. Jamie, what’s the bombshell?”

  “That is one muscle-bound accountant,” I murmured.

  “Oh my God, Jamie,” Dmitri exclaimed, “just tell me!”

  “I’ll only tell you if you promise you’ll stay here and not do anything rash.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Promise.”

  “Ok, ok. Just tell me,” he said, picking up my hands.

  “So, your uncle came to see me today.”

  All the color drained from Dmitri’s face. He completely stopped moving. He seemed to even stop breathing. I recounted the meeting quickly and concisely, leaving nothing out. When I finished talking, he was still for another long moment.

  And then he growled, “That fucking son of a bitch.”

  In the next instant he was dashing out of the kitchen and down the hall, to an office I’d never been in. “Dmitri, wait,” I said, catching up to him as he pushed aside a panel in the wall.

  Behind the panel was an arsenal of weapons.

  “Holy shit,” I exclaimed, at the sight of enough fire power to take over a small nation.

  He plucked a big semiautomatic hand gun from the wall and checked the clip. Panic welled up in me. “Dmitri, stop. We have to talk about this.”

  “No. This isn’t a time for talking, it’s a time for action. That motherfucker does not threaten you and get away with it.” His voice was a low growl.

  “So, what do you think you’re going to do? March into his office and murder him in cold blood? Awesome. Then I get the privilege of hauling you to prison, where you’ll spend the rest of your life. That’ll all work out fucking great.”

  “Don’t follow me and you won’t have to arrest me,” he said.

  “Seriously, Dmitri? I’m a fucking cop. Do you think there’s any way in hell I’d let you walk out of here to commit murder?”

  “Who says I’m planning to kill him? I’m just going to talk to him.”

  “Then what’s the gun for?”

  “Holding his attention.” Dmitri looked at me levelly, his eyes burning with a raw intensity.

  “This isn’t you, Dmitri. You’re scaring the shit out of me right now, and I really need you to put the gun down and talk to me.”

  “But this is me,” he said, breaking my gaze. “This is what I am. Don’t you know that, Jamie? Don’t you know that you’re involved with a criminal?”

  “You’re not a criminal,” I said, stepping forward so I was standing directly in front of him.

  I grabbed his chin to force him to look at me, and he pulled away and tried to step around me as he said, “I have to go.”

  I pushed him up against the wall, pinning him with my hands on his shoulders, and growled, “No!” He blinked at me, his gaze defiant, and I said, “I love you, Dmitri. And because I love you, I am not going to let you do this. Even if it means arresting you to stop you.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, and then a single tear snaked down his cheek. And he whispered, “I have to protect you.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Not like this.”

  “It’s the only way I know to keep you safe.”

  “This isn’t keeping me safe. This is jeopardizing our entire future.”

  “I wasn’t going to kill him,” he said. “I just was going to scare him, force him to back off.”

  “That’s not how we’re going to handle this.” I removed the gun from his grasp and set it on the desk behind me.

  “This is all I know: violence, and threats, and being stronger than your opponent. I don’t know another way.”

  “You’re better than this,” I told him gently.

  “What if I’m not?”

  I grabbed him in a huge hug, crushing him to me as I said, “Trust me, baby. You’re so much better than this. And there is absolutely another solution to our problem besides violence.”

  He was shaking in my arms, crying silently. “I’m sorry, Jamie,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh, it’s ok.” I held him tightly and stroked his hair.

  After a few minutes he let go of me, self-consciously turning away as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “God, I’m such a fucking disaster,” he murmured. “I can’t begin to imagine why you put up with me.”

  I said softly, “You know I love you, Dmitri.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Come with me, let’s get a drink.” I led him to the kitchen and deposited him on a barstool before pouring a double shot of vodka and handing it to him.

  Dmitri was shaking so hard that it took both hands to bring the vodka to his lips. He drank it down, and I took the glass from him and gently brushed his hair back from his face. When he looked up at me, his eyes were brimming with fear and sadness. And he whispered, “I don’t know what to do, Jamie. I don’t know how to stop my uncle. I don’t know how to keep him from hurting you.”

  I held him in my arms for a while as I made up my mind about something. And then I said, “I tho
ught of someone that might be able to help us with your uncle. Let’s go for a drive.”

  “Who is it?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We went outside and he asked, “Where are we going?” as we got in the van and he pulled his seatbelt on. Lucy roared to life in a cloud of exhaust smoke.