Page 34 of Kept in the Dark
“You’re welcome,” I manage.
“You should go take a shower. Do not use too much water—it is all we have until we can stop to refill the tank. There are clothes here in this closet that should be sufficient.”
I don’t need another excuse. I tuck tail and run.
11
Dimitri
I like games.
“As far as I can tell, the murder and the shooting are the only things the authorities are interested in. No leads in either crime. And no reports of assault by anyone matching your description. That doesn’t mean those three twats didn’t say anything, just that they haven’t involved the police. As far as I can tell, none of them are part of theBratva.So, I’d say you were proper lucky on this one, Dimitri.”
My jaw grinds. I hate being lucky. I would much rather be smart.
“James, did you ask Felix what he was doing at the wedding?”
“Yup. He said, and I quote, ‘none of your fuckin’ biz,’ and stopped responding. So, that’s helpful. I sent Wes a list of his known aliases, so we can try to find him.”
My hand curls into a fist. I would not expect Felix—a man who pretended to be a bartender in order to study me covertly—to be forthcoming about his intentions. “What about this Kyle? Did you discover anything about him?”
“Found a good shot of his face from your cam. Kyle Whittaker, aka Volkevich on his mother’s side.” As he speaks, I can hear Wesley chewing and typing.
It used to irritate me because I always believed that people should focus when discussing important matters. It did not take long to discover that Wesley does not know how to single-task; he often focuses on the important tasks at hand better while simultaneously managing hisservers or responding to online messages. Now it feels commonplace—a soothing background noise for most of our interactions.
“Volkevich? No shit.” James whistles.
“I’m still digging, but it appears that he grew up outside the family business and only started going by his mother’s maiden name a few years ago. He’s definitely the one you saw talking to Felix?”
“Yes.” I narrow my eyes, staring into the horizon at a far-off shape that might be a boat. “They were at the bar, speaking casually. Unclear if they knew each other—I was not close enough to overhear their conversation.”
“You know Felix better than we do, Mac. What do you think?” Wesley asks.
“I think… Felix is a decent guy, but he’s also a cagey fuck. I’ve never known him not to have an angle. I don’t like that he was cozying up to a Volkevich, even if they were talking weather. We need to assume for now that they’re doing business.”
Silently, I agree.
“I’ll keep looking into it then, see what I can uncover. Try another angle with Felix, if you haven’t burned that bridge yet.”
“I’ll give it a go. How’s the witness, D?” James asks. “Knowing what she swallowed is gonna be key.”
“I will take care of it,” I reply, purposefully vague. I have not yet decided on the best path forward. I lift a hand to my side, feeling the tender area around the neat, even stitches. They are excellent work—far superior to anything I would have managed, and better even than what James has done for me in the past with his emergency medical training and steady hands.
“Understood. Let us know if you need backup,” he offers.
I disconnect. It was a productive call—Wesley has already checked all the emergency rooms in the city and will begin on the jails and morgues. James is following Viktor Volkevich. As a result of his efforts, we nowknow where thePakhanlives. It will make completing our hit a simple matter that we can carry out as soon as this nonsense with Kyle Volkevich is resolved.
I hear that the shower is running as I climb back down into the cabin and perform a cursory check of the equipment. We are anchored in a suitable spot, protected from the winds. I saw a fisherman hours ago, but have seen no one since.
A strange feeling mounts as I grab one of my books from the shelf above the lounge and settle my long legs in front of me. Normally, I enjoy solitude and privacy—this boat is small, designed for one man. I have never had to share so much of so little personal space with another person. I know very few things about Nicole, and one of them is simply how much I want her.
The idea of not being able to create space between us if I becomeoverstimulatedis not entirely pleasant.
When the water shuts off, my heart beats too hard in my chest for me to follow the words on the page. She will come out soon. She will start talking to me. What do I say?
Images flash in my head—Nicole laughing in the moonlight, and smiling up at me, and holding my arm as we walk through a garden. But she was not laughing and smiling only at me. I had helpers in my ears.
I do not know how to benormalaround a woman. Not one I do not plan to kill.
