Page 114 of Canyon of Deceit
“Does it matter? You won’t see anyone.” His icy tone gave me chills.
“Just curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Will my uncle live?” Alina said.
“We will see.” He infused a little more optimism in his voice when he spoke to Alina. “Now we wait. Do as I ask. It’s all to keep you two alive.”
I no more trusted his interest in our welfare than a wolf protecting its prey.
SIXTY-EIGHT
BLANE
I’d spent most of the night with Rurik talking, posing questions, and attempting to unlock the secrets he gripped with an iron fist. Each pause in his speech, hand movement, breathing, body language, and unconscious habit showed his concern for his daughter. The lies lingered below the surface, but they were there. As much as I debated his actions and motives, I wanted to build trust to find Alina and Therese.
“We’ve gone over the same things repeatedly, and your answers haven’t changed,” I said. “Why are you hiding the truth?”
“I’ve told you everything.”
“Who heads up the ROC here in Houston?”
He inhaled and slowly exhaled.
“Jurg Falin? You claimed in the event of your death that all your assets were directed to the ROC under his management.”
“No.” He leaned back in his chair as though I’d taken the pressure off. “I’ve not been given a name, but I don’t believe it’s him.”
“They killed Daria. Attacked Therese and me. And your daughter? What names are at the top of your list?”
“Possibly two. Only a handful of government officials are privy to the identity, and I’m not one of them.”
Wariness crept up my spine and landed squarely in my words. “But you have a suspect.”
“I might.”
“Have you been in contact with that person?”
“Depends if I’m correct in my assessment.”
I glanced at the time—4:10 a.m. “Excuse me while I step out to make a call.” With the door behind me, I pressed in Sergio’s number.
“Are you still at Rurik’s?” His groggy voice said I’d wakened him.
“Yes. Gotten nowhere. Or maybe confirmation of a deeper web of Russian activity in Houston. Baranov is the key in all of this. If Rurik is telling the truth, he played a role in helping Baranov escape Russia. Once here, the two men would request Witness Protection for them and their families.”
“Are you thinking the Feds have more info than what they’ve stated?”
“Why not? They want Baranov’s intel. The Russians want him dead at any cost for stealing secured info from under their noses. Rurik is holding out, but what is the missing piece? His wife’s dead and his daughter’s been kidnapped. Then we have the laser-chip deal. Think about it, Serge. Baranov, Falin, and Ivanov—the three woven in crime. How does it all fit?”
“The link’s probably so obvious we’re fools for missing it.”
I shared the conversation with Rurik from all angles. “Has the torched body been identified as Daria Ivanov?”
“Let me go to my study. A text flew into my phone around 2:30, but I’ve been battling a virus and ignored it.”
We chatted while he made his way downstairs to his man cave—what his wife called his study, an eclectic mix of taxidermy trophies, books, fishing treasures, and a wall of family and Ranger portraits—including a brother in a mariachi band.
