Did she mean... mob connections?
I whip my phone out of my purse, looking at the time. It's already after ten. I call up the app to track Dimitri. He said that there'd be no cell reception where he was going, but at least I'll get the place where he last had reception.
I call for a cab. I should go home and change, but the last hit on the cell tower was already half an hour ago. Whatever Dimitri had in mind, it is already in progress.
"Where ya headin'?" asked the cabby as I slide into the backseat.
"I need to make a quick stop at Pacific Street, then 35th Street and 2nd Ave., Brooklyn. I'll tip for your time."
"Sure, doll," he says, pulling out of the building and heading me towards my home. I know I'm running out of time, but I'll be no help to anyone without changing my outfit, and grabbing my camera.
And my gun.
Chapter 18.
I get out at the intersection, paying the driver before looking down the dark street. Cars that look partially abandoned litter the area, bars on all of the windows. Suddenly I don't feel so confident, and I pull my black hoodie a little tighter around my head.
This is the area that Dimitri was last in, so he must be in one of these buildings.
But what one?
There's an alarm going off at the end of the road, the wailing of the car alarm echoing off the high buildings and adding to my uncertainty. Maybe I should just go home, and listen to Dimitri for once. Maybe I really don't want to be here, and see what it is my lover's doing in this shady place.
I suck in a deep breath of air, walking slowly and looking for anything that might lead me to where Dimitri is.
I don't see his car, and I keep to the side of the buildings, trying not to draw any attention to myself, even as my heart pounds in my chest. I've gone from my biggest stress being filing season to stalking my brother.
It didn't even seem like a long fall.
No street lamps line the road, and I can barely make anything out. I slump against the wall, considering what to do next. I can't just barge into any of these buildings, looking for Dimitri. It's useless.
I make my way back towards the marine terminal and the flickering, yellow light, when the alarm behind me stops. I can suddenly hear my own steps on the sidewalk, but worse than that, I hear someone else's. I can't see them, even when I glance around, and my pace quickens.
Dimitri warned me they'd kill me if they found out I was spying before, and if they catch me here, in the middle of the night...
Panic grips my chest, and I'm practically running down the side street, but the heavier steps behind me quicken to match my pace. And then faster. He's not far behind me, those thick thuds getting closer and closer.
I nearly run into a platform, lifted off the ground by a couple of feet, used by trucks for unloading material. My fingers grip it, and I find, blissfully, it's not solid. I have no idea what's beneath it, but I duck under in a crouch, hoping to throw whoever else was in the alley off my scent.
I hold my breath as I hear the footsteps near me at a jog. My heart is pumping so loud I'm afraid it might draw attention, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I'm so near to the main road, to the lights of the marine terminal, but I'm still submerged in darkness within my little hiding space.
The footsteps pass me, and I let out a brief sigh of relief. But then, for just a split second, he turns and I get a glimpse of who it is. A face I've forever remembered, and longed to forget.
It's Anton. The same man my brother beat up all those years ago. The man that Dimitri threatened to do terrible things to after he snitched on Dimitri's boss.
My stomach sinks. If Anton's free... what does that mean for Dimitri?
He glances around, and I hold my breath again, tears stinging my eyes but I quickly squeeze them away. I don't have time to get emotional about it, not if Dimitri's in trouble. I wait and watch, my legs burning from my awkward squatting position but I'm too afraid to shift and draw attention to myself.
My hand goes to my purse, grabbing my gun lightly in my hand, just in case.
Thank God there's no need.
He continues walking, back into the inky darkness of the alleyway. I watch him until he's far enough away from me before I move from my hiding place. My legs feel so good stretched out after being so cramped, but I don't have time to enjoy the sensation. Instead, I follow Anton into the dark.
I'm quieter this time, now that I know someone else is here, and even though he looks over his shoulder a few times, he never spots me. Slowly, slowly I make my way towards the building he enters.
Several minutes pass before I feel comfortable enough to enter. I have no idea what's awaiting me on the other side. He might be standing guard just inside the building, gun at the ready, so I hold mine up to my chest.
If they have Dimitri, I'm going to have to do what it takes to get him back. Luckily, dad used to take me shooting and Rebecca insisted on self-defense classes, but that hardly makes me feel any bit more comfortable. It could be the end.
I beg myself to turn back, to just go back to Dimitri's condo and hope for the best, but I've always been stubborn and curious to a fault. My dad used to call me his little daredevil.
Kneeling, I touch the handle of the door, cautiously turning it. Every second feels like an eternity, but I have to go slow. Quick movements draw the eye and create more sound, two things that would definitely attract trouble. Staying down helps so that if they do shoot, they'd not be shooting down, hopefully.
I begin the tedious process of opening the door, and when I finally get inside, there's no one there. Simply a large room filled with crates.
I close the door behind me, moving in with cautious footsteps. Even though my blood is racing, my breathing is deep and calm. Keep cool under pressure. I have to keep cool.
But when I hear the unmistakable crack of fist on skull, I can't help but cringe as I picture Dimitri's gorgeous face taking a pounding.
I quicken my pace, rounding the nearest stack of boxes only to find a staircase leading down. The stairs are iron, and sure to echo, so I can't chance it. Instead, I get down on the flat of my belly, leaning in so that I can glance down from above. I'm in the dark, so I pray they can't see me as I peek out.
But what I see is not what I expect.
There stands Dimitri - his fist bloodied, his face fierce - looming over a man I don't recognize with dark hair and olive skin. Anton's at his side, wringing his hands, and a truck of a man stands to the side, watching over the proceedings.
Dimitri brings his fist to the bound man's face again, his eyes already swollen and his lip bust open.
"Who had Rebecca Fairfax killed?" he asks, his voice very clear and deliberate.
Anton then starts speaking in another language I vaguely recognize as Italian, his voice quicker and more frenzied.
The man tied to the chair looks at Anton, replying back in the same language. They were using Anton as a translator? But he'd betrayed Dimitri. Was a snitch. Why would Dimitri trust him again?
"He says it wasn't the Italians!" Anton translates into English, but Dimitri clearly doesn't believe him.
"You said she was using our laundering scheme to get money to the Italians so that they could invest it for her without anyone being the wiser," Dimitri snarls.
"It's true! She was!"
"And you said that this guy is the money guy."
"He is!"
A few more brutally quick jabs of Dimitri's fists into the guy's torso, and he's coughing blood. Then the bound man starts speaking again, and Anton translates once more.
"He said he worked with your mother, that she owed him money, but he'd never kill her. She was always good for her loans. It'd be a bad business decision."
"Viktor," Dimitri says, and I recognize the name. That's the man who had arranged for Anton to be picked up by Dimitri and Slava. The one that was to be promoted.
"Da?"
"I need to talk to Anton in private. Take this izhets," Dimitri spits the Russian word as if it were acid on his tongue, "into the back room and let him think it over."
Viktor lifts the man up easily, chair and all, as if it didn't weigh a thing. He has to be almost seven feet of solid muscle, and he has a certain aura around him that terrifies me. They disappear and Dimitri looks to Anton.
"I heard something in the alley when I was makin' that call," Anton says in a hushed tone.
I can't make out Dimitri's face as he turns away, but my blood runs cold and I pull up so that my head isn't visible from their position any longer.
"You see anyone?"
"Naw, just shadows is all. Could've been a stray bitch for all I know."
There's silence, and I take a deep breath, but then the conversation changes.
"I'm real sorry, boss. He's the only guy that we got that talked to her. She was always real certain on that, that she only ever dealt with one guy. I guess it was so that it didn't get back to you and the Russians. Even I didn't find out until after she was dead, or I would have told you, I swear."
"If she's in debt, he's going to try to collect. From me."
It doesn't seem he's gotten any closer to Rebecca's killer than I have.
I take a chance, glancing down again, and Dimitri is looking right at me. I go cold, and quickly stand up, gun still in hand. I'm about to head for the door when I hear something that chills me to the spine.
Three gunshots echo through the warehouse. For a second, I think that it's Dimitri, punishing me for spying. Am I dead?
I check my body for bullet holes, as if I'd be more easily able to feel it with my hands than with my pain receptors, and when I find myself whole, all my calm escapes me and I run for the door. I have no idea who it was who fired those shots, or upon whom, and I don't know if I want to find out.
Curiosity really would kill the cat this time.
Curiosity still might have.
Chapter 19.
Waiting for Dimitri in his condo is the worst decision I've made in the last five hours, since I hightailed it out of the alley. I haven't been able to sleep, the stress and anxiety churning in my stomach.
I should just run. I have no idea what he's going to do to me now that he knows I was following him again. He warned me that I could be killed, but he didn't mean by him, did he?
But I also didn't know he was a killer before tonight. Not for certain. I thought he'd gotten away from those people, and yet here he is: in even deeper.
It makes me want to throw up, but instead I sit on his couch, anxiously wringing my hands. I don't even know why I came here, other than the fact that I have nowhere to go. My life is linked with his, whether I like it or not. If I run, he has the money and motive to find me.
And if I run, who's to say he wouldn't think I'm even guiltier than I am?
That I haven't run to the cops?
Seconds tick by like hours, and when I finally hear his key in the lock, it's sunrise. My back is so tense, I'm not seeing straight. My brain is an absolute fog, and I feel like ducking down, hiding under the couch, just putting off seeing his face for a little while longer.
What if he really kills me? What if this is it? A short, brutal, unhappy life that ends in agony just like Rebecca. Just like my mom and dad.
Tears blur my eyes, and when he pushes the door in, he looks exhausted and enraged. His face is a bit sweaty, his shirt marred with blood, and I hold my breath. He looks at me, daggers in his eyes as he closes the door, locks and bolts it behind him.
The air is sucked out of the room, and we just watch one another. I'm shivering with terror, and when he reaches beneath his jacket and removes a gun, I close my eyes. I'm sure this is it. This one, horrible moment, and it'll all be over.
And then it's not. There's only silence, but for the shifting of his clothing as he walks.
His hand wraps around my bicep, tugging me from the couch so that I'm pressed tightly between him and the edge of the sofa. I can't move, can't get away, and he's glaring at me like I'm the worst person in the world.
This morning I was convinced I was in love with him, and now I wonder if I know him at all.
"How'd you find me, Sarah?" he growls, and when I look down, his other hand collects my chin, making me look up at him.
"Your phone," I murmur, too ashamed to speak any louder. He warned me, didn't he? Why was I so damned stupid as to follow him? I should have just left it alone, especially after finding out that Rebecca was ripping me off.
"You put a tracker on my phone?"
"I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Damn it, Sarah," he growls, and I'm shaking, wondering what he's going to do. He takes out his phone, handing it to me. "Take it off of my phone. Now."
I unlock it, finding the app and uninstalling it, handing him back the phone. He sets it aside and looks down on me.
"Do you know what would have happened if Viktor saw you?"
"No..."
"You would be in the water with that fucking goombah. And do you know what they'd do to me?"
"No."
His finger and thumb hold onto my chin, tightly.