Page 32 of In Her Blood
Pavel’s nostrils flared and his jaw flexed. He clearly disliked her words, so she was a bit surprised when he neither argued them nor stomped away like a child. Instead, though his tone still lacked true respect, he answered her. “The man awaiting you is—was—a secret informant Pakhan Mikhail, may he rest in peace, acquired within the Chicago PD. Detective Benson. He asked for you specifically, and as he has always been brought through the back entrance directly to the study, that is what I did. That is where he waits.”
Again, Evelina reeled. A detective had come to her home and asked for her by name. Not just any detective, but one who had supposedly worked for her father.It really would have been nice if there had been some kind of underground Last Will & Testament thing, too.Mostly so there wouldn’t have been so many blindsides and so damn many questions. But she kept the frustration to herself, pursed her lips for a moment, and finally said, “All right, then. I understand your reasoning now. And until things are properly settled within the clan, I will neither ask for nor expect you to commit to a new routine. But you might want to consider polishing up your communication skills.”
Pavel’s brow twitched. “Apologies, Miss Nikolaev.”
Somehow, the words felt much less sincere than when she’d heard them minutes earlier.
A nauseating combination of frustrated and nervous, Evelina adjusted course for her father’s study. It was far enough from her previous destination that it took more than a minute to reach despite being on the same floor, and by the time the closed door was in view, her heartbeat was thundering in her ears.
Why on earth would a detective she’d never heard of, let alone met, be coming there and asking for her by name? Was this another of Pyotr’s schemes? Had her father left something else behind, something that would impact her so directly?
Otto laid a hand over her back. “I’ll be right beside you.”
She really, really wanted to kiss him. Instead, she leaned backward, into his touch. “Are you comfortable killing a cop? You know, if it comes to that….”
She swore he kissed the crown of her head, but the passing pressure was too quick to be sure. “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.”
Her lips twitched and she turned her head to breathe him in one more time before straightening.Let’s get this over with.At least she always kept her master key attached to her keyring, so getting into the office didn’t require breaking the solid wood door. Once it was unlocked, she moved back and allowed Otto to lead the way inside.
Her father’s study was as she remembered, if not a bit dustier. It was stupid how quickly dust accumulated. The desk looked untouched, as well as she could tell, and neither the wide built-in shelves with their assorted trinkets nor her father’s liquor cabinet on the adjacent wall seemed out of sorts. The old-style paper map of Russia was still in its frame and mounted to the wall above the bar. Even the furniture faced the directions Evelina remembered.
The only unfamiliarity was the man standing beside the desk, wearing a cliché trench coat.
Evelina waited until Otto had pushed the door closed behind her, making no move to come within arm’s reach of the stranger. “Detective Benson, I presume?”
The man inclined his head, his graying, mouse-brown combover seeming to bob with him. “You must be Evelina. Sorry about your old man.”
“Justmy father?”
“Beg your pardon?”
She bit her lips for a moment and shook her head. “Never mind. I hear you wanted to talk?”
His gaze shifted to Otto for a lingering moment. “I’d hoped we could speak in private.”
Evelina gestured briefly around the room. “This is as private as you’re going to get with me.” She motioned to Otto. “My bodyguard goes where I go. He barely trusts my friends, so you can imagine how he feels about strangers.”
Detective Benson sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “All right. If that’s true, he was probably there, anyway.”
The confusion within her mounted. “Excuse me? What’s this about?”
Benson lowered his arm and locked his stare onto hers. “I uncovered a bit of concerning information regarding that shootout you were in the other day, Miss Nikolaev.”
Her heart rate tripled.The shootout. Fuck.That was supposed to have been handled, but she supposed she didn’t fully comprehend what that entailed. It wasn’t like she’d ever had to do the work herself.Am I about to be arrested?
Benson motioned to the low-profile chairs positioned at an angle to face each other that sat in front of the electric fireplace. “You may want to sit.”
Trying to keep her anxieties hidden, Evelina moved to claim a seat.
Otto followed, standing at her shoulder.
Benson lowered into the opposite chair, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “I won’t beat around the bush. I had a good thing worked out with your father, and I’m personally hoping you and I can be friends. But right now, you don’t know me, and all I know is that your family’s in the middle of a power struggle.” He pulled a visibly damagedphone from his pocket and held it out so she could see. “This was on one of the Morozovs in that SUV. You can see for yourself, the phone’s pretty busted. But our IT guy was able to pull some data off it.”
Evelina watched with mounting confusion as Benson set the damaged phone onto the small coffee table between them, then pulled another device from his coat.
“One of the things we got off it was a recent voicemail,” Benson said. “The call itself came from a burner. We’ve got nothing more on that. The caller used a filter to disguise their voice, too, so that’s a bust. But what they said … well, that’s why I’m here.”
Her chest tightened. She could guess just from what Benson had said what kind of message he was talking about. But guessing would be stupid. “Play it.”
