Page 29 of The Kingpin's Omega Lover
“What?” Malori asked.
Another email pinged from Ziggy. King opened that before he showed Malori the two wildly different photos. The social security card for Yovani Alexie, as well as an Oklahoma driver’s license connected to that number. The license photo, last updated two years ago, showed a man who looked a lot more like the autopsy photo than the work ID photo. No way Yovenko’s appearance could have changed that drastically in such a short period of time.
“Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice,” King muttered.
“Damn it, King, what?” Malori poked him in the ribs. Hard.
“Well, unless Aleks Yovenko is really good at makeup and latex disguises, he’s playing a game of fraud and identity theft.” King turned the tablet around so Malori and Bishop could bettersee the three photos, lined up together. King explained which was which and when they were taken.
“So Aleks stole this Yovani guy’s identity and posed as him?” Malori asked, incredulity arching his eyebrows and parting his lips. “Which one of them is actually dead?”
“I’m not sure, angel.”
“How is this possible?” Bishop. “Everyone we’ve spoken to about the Farm says Decker was meticulous in how he vetted clients. He didn’t invite just anyone.”
“No, but even the best security has a weakness somewhere,” Malori snapped. “Yovenko is a sociopath, the perfect liar. He made me believe he loved me and wanted a life with me and our son. Even Dr. Luther seemed to buy that Yovenko would pay for my freedom, and instead, he ran off with my kid.”
“Your doctor believed that?” King asked. “You never mentioned it before.”
“It didn’t really occur to me until now. Sure, she was pretty distant during my exams and clinical during the birth, but she was there…after.”
“After Yovenko absconded with your son?”
Malori nodded miserably, and King put his hand on Malori’s thigh. “When Dr. Luther told me, I didn’t believe her at first. Then I…lost it.” He touched a spot high on his forehead, right below his scalp, a thin mark King had noticed but never asked about. “The apartment didn’t have any weapons, so I started bashing my head into the wall. Trying to end it.”
King released a distressed noise and scooted closer, grateful when Malori looped his arm around King’s waist.
“When I woke up, Dr. Luther was there,” Malori continued. “She actually apologized for her part in what happened. She told me that as long as I was alive, there was a chance I’d see my children again, and she was right. Even though I was completely broken after that, I stopped trying to actively kill myself. I alsostopped fighting back or defending myself, which is probably why they abducted Kensley to replace me. I was used up.” He looked directly at Kensley and opened his mouth.
Kensley put up a staying hand, his own eyes bright. “Don’t you dare apologize again for my abduction. I told you if you did, I’d go into your closet and sew all the pockets in your clothes shut. Even that tiny little one on jeans that doesn’t hold anything.”
Malori hesitated then closed his mouth. Nodded.
“So, there’s a chance our Yovenko,” Bishop said, “or Alexie, or whoever the fuck he actually is, is a lot smarter than even the people behind the Farm. That makes him incredibly dangerous.”
“You’re right,” King replied. “Bishop, I need you to contact the local police department and find out what you can about Mr. Alexie’s murder. Spin a story, pose as a reporter, because we have two faces connected to the name Yovani Alexie. We need to know for certain that the autopsy was for the heavyset guy on the driver’s license, and that he’s the real Yovani Alexie.”
“Agreed,” Bishop said. “I’m surprised Ziggy couldn’t confirm it.”
“I want you both on this.” King trusted Ziggy, but he trusted Bishop more. And sometimes seconds-in-command had better people skills than cyber hackers. Ziggy was great with computers and software, but not so much with finessing people. “We’ve got pictures of two similar alive men, and one dead man who could be either of them. Possibly, but unlikely, they’re all the same man. Assuming we are dealing with two men, and one name/social security number, I see two possibilities here.”
“Which are what?” Malori asked.
“The police got it right, the dead man is your Aleks Yovenko, and we know for sure he’s been murdered by someone.”
“But you don’t believe that.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Why?”
He loved the way Malori was asking questions, exploring the way King’s mind was processing this information. Learning. “Look at the evidence. These two men look similar, but that driver’s license photo was taken a year before Yovenko came to the Farm, right? Roughly?”
Malori glanced at the date. “About, yes.”
“I could buy Chubby License Guy losing weight, maybe having a little face work done so he looks more like Handsome ID Photo Guy. But, I’m having a harder time buying Handsome ID Guy is the schlub in that very recent autopsy photo. The timing doesn’t work.”
“Okay, that makes sense.”
