Cold As Ice: Novel (A Kristen Conner Mystery Book 3) (25 page)

45

OKAY. MAYBE YANKING the door open isn’t the smartest idea. I strain to hear any sound. Nothing. The door is thick and fits the frame a lot better than the door in my old apartment did.

I sniff. No cashew chicken in the air.

Maybe whoever was there is gone. Doesn’t feel like it.

I walk on the sides of my feet from the foyer to the hall leading to the master bedroom. I still feel funny sleeping in Klarissa’s bed, even before the Reynolds fiasco. I need my space and my stuff. Now isn’t the time to let my wandering mind wander though.

I rummage in my small leather makeup case and find my compact. I’ll put the mirror up to the peephole to see if anyone is in line of site. If they’re waiting for an eyeball to appear they can blast my compact.

Not a bad idea. Better keep my fingers low.

I wish she didn’t live ten floors up. That view alone must cost a suitcase full of rubles. I need to get out of here. I can’t take the elevator. I have to run down the stairs to the garage, jog out the opening around the gate, and get two more blocks to my car. Everyone knows a bear likes to run uphill better than downhill. Won’t take long and the rear exit won’t be covered immediately but an alarm is going to go off when someone realizes the old man is missing. I’ll bet he was a fighter in his day. That was a nice jab. Slow but nice. Not much power or I’d have more than a black eye. I need to be careful.

It might be time to blast my way in. Shoot her and run. I can dump the car and get my truck. I should have packed earlier. Either way, I can be in St. Louis in five hours—unless roads are still icy. I’ll stop and sleep for a week.

He looked at the Springfield in his right hand. One in the chamber and thirteen in the clip. That’s why Pasha had most of them switch to the model. A second magazine with thirteen more rounds was in his pocket. The 45-caliber bullet would blow a hole the size of a Kennedy half-dollar through flesh or wood. Wouldn’t take more than four or five rounds to get inside, depending on the make of the lock.

But she was a detective and would have a handgun. She might already have it locked and loaded. There was a reason she wasn’t answering the door. He would have to move fast and blast anything that moved and then get to the stairwell. If any nosy neighbors poked a head out the door to get a look at him . . . well that was bad luck for them.

I could just leave. I’m leaving too big of a trail. Now others have seen me, including Sadowsky. He won’t talk to police but he will report to whoever the new Pakhan is in New York. But with Pasha in custody will I matter enough to pursue?

He reached in his left pocket, pulled out the bottle of vodka, and took a big swig. One drink for courage even if it is only a skinny girl I have to kill.

He felt the warmth all over. She has no chance against me.

Just do it. He pocketed the bottle and lifted the gun from his side to the lock on the door.

46

BLACKSHEAR WAS ABOUT to go crazy. He had just spent the day at his in-laws for a big family gathering to celebrate his niece’s christening. Nothing more important than family, he thought, but we still have leftovers from all the holiday get-togethers. He’d missed too many family occasions as a cop and knew his wife would sulk for a week. Had to go. But after getting bumped back to lieutenant after the Durham case, he needed a quick victory.

He wanted to get over to the district attorney’s office with the case in the morning. He’d stay up late putting the case on paper. We have motive and means with the wife alone. We might have the weapon too. The crowbar hanging neatly on a pegboard inside the Keltto’s garage door had been wiped down. Had to be the crowbar.

The kid witnessing Leslie Levin’s car on the street that morning sewed things up tighter that Nancy and Leslie were in it together. He’d love to deliver the pair of them to the DA.

If Leslie had been there and lied about it, they would put the screws to him. One of the two would flip on the other. We just need to confirm Levin’s car wasn’t sitting in a parking space at O’Hare at the same time. I need to know if I’m giving him to the DA as a conspirator or direct accomplice.

He looked at his watch and wondered if it was too soon to call Conner. He hated that she lost her Sunday afternoon doing his work. I’ve got to fire Alyson. But that would be messy and won’t help me get back on the path to promotion. Maybe I just talk her up and get someone to take her off my hands in a transfer.

His phone rang. It was dispatch. He listened for a minute and whistled before confirming he was on the way. He hoped Squires and Conner didn’t want to watch TV tonight.

Nancy Keltto slit her wrists in the bathtub. Levin stopped by— contravening a written agreement he signed. Levin probably went there to make sure they got their story straight, he thought cynically. Stupid move if you are a murder suspect.

But Levin found Nancy Keltto in time to save her life. She was in ER at Advocate Christ Medical Center in Oak Lawn. Those two are thicker than blood and guilty as hell.

47

“OKAY, I GO to Chicago and kill Medved. What about the Detective?”

“Sadowsky provided the Bear with everything he needs to do the job. It might be done before you get there. That would be unfortunate. It’s never good to kill cops. Much cheaper to keep them on your side. All our informants say she saw nothing. She is not a threat. We also lose our bear bait if she’s dead. Anasenko just sent a crew to intercept the Bear and keep her alive.”

“So why send me?”

“We’re just speculating he’s still after the detective. If he is, things are easier. Sadowsky’s men will treat her like bear bait. When they see him coming they put him down. But maybe he’s taking his time. Two of Sadowsky’s men have seen the Bear once. You know him better. So that’s why we want you there.”

“Pasha always said Sadowsky was good,” Vlad said. “How’d he lose track of Medved?”

“He didn’t have him followed because they had a transmitter on the car. But the Bear found the transmitter and put it on a pickup truck heading to Indianapolis. That wasted some time.”

Vladimir shook his head. “Medved surprises me. He’s doing the right things. He must be sober.”

“So why did Pasha use a drunk to screw up the deal?”

Vladimir would love to know more about the deal but didn’t ask. Keep your mouth shut and your ears open. Most people can’t handle silence. Teplov looks like a talker.

“Pasha wanted to get rid of Med for a long time. Med used to be okay, which kept him alive longer than he deserved. But he was never right in the head after Riker Island. Pasha would have killed him when he brought the man to the warehouse.”

“Pasha or you?”

“No matter. Same thing.”

“Good point,” Teplov said. “Loyalty is everything. We are one.”

“Med was okay. Riker broke him.”

Teplov nodded understandingly—maybe a bit condescendingly. “The real issues is we put too much confidence in Pasha Boyarov.”

Vladimir said nothing. He didn’t like this guy and he didn’t like him talking Pasha down. Pasha had broken the vows of the
vory v zakone
, but he had been one of the best soldiers the American
bratva
would ever know. He would kill Pasha himself for his betrayal. But the man sitting across from him had seduced Boyarov to do wrong. He was no better. He didn’t have the right to speak against Pasha.

“So it’s understood?” Teplov asked.

“Simple enough. I am to kill the Bear. When do I leave?”

“In the morning but not from here. Even with your remarkable change in appearance, we don’t want to risk you flying from a New York airport. You and I will drive to Dulles together tonight. I’ve done all I can to calm things here. Everything will soon be settled here. Order restored. No more killings.”

“Who will be Pakhan?”

“You might as well be one of the first to know. It’s Ishutin. We need a steady hand at the helm.”

“Where do I go after I’ve done the Bear?”

“I’ll wait for you in D.C. I’ll have a new name and passport ready for you and you’ll fly to Switzerland to lay low. Plus there’s a man in Geneva we need to talk to—you can help.”

Ishutin as Pakhan? No way. Everyone knew he was too old. With Pasha out of the picture, it would have to be Luytov. And send me to Switzerland? I don’t trust this guy as far as I can throw him. He’s stringing me along until whoever is in charge knows that they want to do with me.

48

THIS IS SO unacceptable. Dr. Van Guten has missed two of our last three meetings. Just when I started opening up to her. It is human nature to pursue what you cannot have and then disregard it once you think it is yours. This is not about her. It’s about me. I need her full attention. I won’t speak to her next time she comes to see me. That will get her attention. She’s confused as to who is in charge of our talks.

The attorney. What do I think of Joseph Abrams? He’s full of himself. He didn’t like it when I called him Joey and asked me to call him Mr. Abrams. Yet he claims to be a man for the people. Hypocrisy has no boundaries.

But he’s smart. I believe he has identified the one thing that could free me. Detective Kristen Conner did not have permission to enter a private residence, no matter what I might be doing there. Not without a warrant. Not without more than a hunch of where I might be.

The law is another revealer of human nature. People love boundaries that protect their freedom but don’t mind if someone else’s rights are trampled.

Fortunately for me, our poorly dressed detective trampled all over mine. How inconsiderate.

It’s not the right time to bring it up with Joey, but I plan to sue her for the violence she inflicted on me. I doubt she has much to lose so I will include the Chicago Police Department and the entire Chicago city government. They are broke from what I read, but as long as you can raise taxes, you can pay off your damages. I need to ask Joey about suing the FBI as well.

Leslie Van Guten is playing a game with me. She thinks she is pulling strings to make me talk to her. It’s time she learns that I make the rules.