Crossing the Line (17 page)

Even after she knew the man had gone, Katya kept her eyes closed afraid he’d return to kill her. He’d come close to it. She could still feel his fingers on her neck. It hurt to swallow. She might not know his name but she’d remember his face. How could he let her live? But he didn’t come back. Aleksei had betrayed her in the worst possible way, but if she let this break her, he’d won. The door opened and she whimpered behind her gag, but it wasn’t the rapist. Aleksei dropped on the bed next to her.

“Oh God, oh God,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

His face was pale and his fingers trembled as he removed the tie and freed her hands. She tried to bring her arms to her sides and couldn’t. When Aleksei eased them down she groaned as cramps knotted her shoulders. Her wrists and body were smeared with blood and there was a vivid bite mark on her breast in the same place as the one she’d had before. She wanted to cover herself but didn’t even have the energy for that.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said.

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

“What did I do to make you hate me this much?” she whispered.

“Christ, I don’t hate you.” His hands were clenched. “It should have been Sylvie. All you were supposed to do was play the violin. I was tricked.”

“Who tricked you?”

“A…business associate.”

“You let it happen.” She gulped back a sob. “That monster was with me all night. He took drugs and kept fucking me. Where were you? Where were you?” Tears rolled down her cheeks.

He showed her his wrists. They looked worse than hers. Raw ragged marks. “Bruno made sure I didn’t interfere. The man asked for someone to rape. Sylvie was supposed to pretend. I was deliberately delayed and when I got back…oh fuck. I could see and hear you and I couldn’t do anything. I am so sorry.”

Could she believe him? Was this a trick?

“I’m telling you the truth, I swear.”

She didn’t know what to believe. Her head hurt too much to think. How could this happen to her twice?

“I don’t know how to make this right,” he whispered. “Tell me what to do.”

“You said you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.”

He groaned. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry.”

Reach for me. Hug me. Want me.
He was like a statue, frozen in place.

“I’m going to put right the part of it that I can,” he said.

“Call the police?”

“You know we can’t.”

She sighed. “After what those men did, I didn’t know if I could ever be with a guy again. You came along with your dangerous charm and I thought maybe you’d save me. I enjoyed yesterday so much and it turned into the worst day of my life because you left me and he came and…”

He reached out and she flinched, but he grabbed her hand and held it up next to his own. “Look at my wrist. Believe me. There was nothing I could do.”

What did it matter if he
was
telling the truth? Her heart was broken.
She
was broken.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said. “Twenty thousand dollars.”

She wrenched free. “You think I want money? That a piece of jewelry will make everything right? A car? A trip to the Caribbean?”

“I don’t know what to do. Tell me what you want.” He looked and sounded desperate and it shocked her into belief that he wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been able to help her.

“I thought you might even grow to love me,” she whispered. “Who’d want me now?”

“I want you.”

“I don’t believe you. If you hadn’t brought me here, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s your fault I’m broken. Find a way to mend me.”

Was this her wakeup call? Yet another reminder of why she’d come to America? She struggled to sit and pushed Aleksei away when he tried to help her stand. She took clothes from her bag, went into the bathroom and when the door was closed, she slid to the floor and sobbed for what she’d lost.

Aleksei sat on the bed with his head in his hands. He heard her weeping before the water running in the shower drowned out the sound. He’d hoped she’d believe him and fling herself into his arms. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to. The crazy thing was he needed comfort too. He’d spent the night listening to Katya pleading and crying and he wanted to kill Bruno.

Both guys had gone out, sent Sylvie to free him and she wisely said nothing. Aleksei was furious with everyone, but most furious with Viktor.
The fucking bastard.
Not hard to guess he’d planned this from the start. Even if he hadn’t, a call from Hastings would have set everything in place. Aleksei wasn’t a killer but he had murder in his heart.

He cleaned the top of the bedside cabinet using the remains of Katya’s dress and put the rubbish in a bag to take back to Miami. He pulled the sheets off the bed and balled them up to take too. All the evidence gone except for the broken woman in the shower. He glanced at the bathroom door, sighed and packed up their things.

Nik came to remove the equipment he was supposed to have installed in Sylvie’s room, full of apologies Aleksei didn’t want to hear. Nik was supposed to be loyal to him. Aleksei had forgotten he couldn’t trust anyone and Katya had paid the price. Nik was a coward and he’d get what was coming to him.

“I’m sorry,” Nik kept saying.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I—”

A glare closed his mouth.

“Hurry up and be out of here before Katya comes out of the bathroom. At least get that right.”

“Okay.”

Aleksei rose to his feet and walked across to him. “If I find you’ve copied that tape…”

Nik left just before the bathroom door opened. Katya looked terrible. The dress hung on her as if she’d shrunk. The bruises on her neck and arms had darkened. Her wrists were swollen and sore. Aleksei draped his jacket over her shoulders.

“There are hummingbirds in the garden. Would you like to see them?”

She shook her head. She walked slowly, holding her violin to her chest like a shield. Aleksei moved at her pace, raging inside.

As he checked out, Hastings walked into the lobby and Katya whimpered. Aleksei put his arm around her, relieved when she let him. It was all he could do not to smash his fist into the smirking guy’s face.

“Thank you for making my birthday such a special occasion,
Zalupa
. You’re extremely talented. I hope I’ll have the pleasure of you entertaining me again one day.”

Aleksei stepped up to him and put his mouth to Hastings’s ear. “Don’t speak to her, don’t look at her. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her, you fucking animal.”

Aleksei whisked Katya outside past the valet parking attendants lurking like raptors. He had to hold her up otherwise she’d have fallen. When he stopped next to the car, he saw blood on her lips where she’d bitten down and wiped it away with his finger.

I am going to fucking destroy Viktor for this and he won’t see me coming.

* * * * *

Katya didn’t speak on the way to the airport except to tell Aleksei to shut up. Nik, Bruno and Sylvie were already on the plane when they climbed on board and Aleksei flew straight at Bruno. It was the pilot who pulled them apart and told Aleksei he wouldn’t take off if he didn’t sit in his seat and stay in it.

“I was just doing my fucking job,” Bruno shouted.

“She wasn’t fucking acting,” Aleksei shouted back.

Katya pulled him down and he slumped in the seat.

“I want to throw him out of the fucking plane,” Aleksei said through gritted teeth.

She imagined leaping out to free-fall through the sky—a few seconds of the ultimate white-knuckle ride followed by the massive relief of nothing. No life consumed by vengeance, no memory of men abusing her. Aleksei’s fingers crept onto hers where she held the seat arm and tightened. His wrists were definitely worse than hers. He had dark shadows under his eyes and a tight set to his jaw. Who controlled Bruno? Petrenko? And did Petrenko control Aleksei too? It didn’t seem possible. Aleksei had been here for years, Petrenko a matter of months. So who was Aleksei’s boss?

Maybe this was a test of her resolve. She could let it break her or use it to make her stronger. None of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for Petrenko. Katya’s theory was that he’d discovered Galya worked for the FSB and killed her. And when her father had come too close to the truth, he’d killed her family.

Katya wanted to hear him admit it and then for him to die slowly and painfully. She didn’t care if she went to hell. How could it be any worse than this?

She hadn’t spoken since she’d told Aleksei to find a way to mend her. Every time she thought about saying something, the words log jammed in her throat and tears filled her eyes. She understood that Aleksei had no idea how to handle her. She didn’t know how to handle herself. Whenever her gaze connected with Bruno, she thought she was going to throw up.

Finally, they landed and Aleksei hurried her away. She could hardly concentrate when he talked to her but took in that he had things to attend to and didn’t want her to be on her own.

There was nowhere to run, no one to run to. Did he think she was going to kill herself?

He took her to the apartment Anna shared with Natasha muttering something about it being better to be with someone.
Idiot.
Even when Anna’s smile faded at seeing her by his side, he still didn’t understand. He guided Katya to the couch and lifted his jacket from her shoulders. She still clutched her violin.

“Where’s Natasha?” Aleksei asked.

“In shower.”

“I need the pair of you to look after Katya.”

Anna stroked his groin while she stared at Katya. “Can you stay for a while?”

He lifted her hand. “No, I have a meeting.”

“You’re stressed. I know how to take care of that.”

“I’m trusting you to take care of Katya. That’s all I need you to take care of.”

He walked away from Anna and put his mouth to Katya’s ear. “There is nothing I won’t do to make this up to you. Nothing.”

Will you kill Petrenko?

He kissed the top of her head and left.

The moment the door closed, Anna turned on her. “What’s wrong with you?”

Natasha came into the room wrapped in a fluffy pink towel. “Was that Aleksei? What did he want?”

“Babysitter,” Anna snapped.

Natasha looked at Katya and her eyes widened. She dropped onto the couch next to her. “What happened?”

Because her concern sounded genuine, Katya’s defenses crumbled and tears rolled down her face.

Natasha put her arms around her.

“I thought he liked me, but he likes her more.” Anna glared at her.

“Don’t let it get to you, Anna. He’s still using her. He’s using all of us.”

Aleksei paced in a hotel corridor waiting to get through to Anna. When he’d seen the message pop up on his phone, he’d had to come out of his meeting to call a lawyer. The discussion wasn’t going well, probably because his tolerance level for idiots was currently low. Viktor hadn’t answered any of his calls which seriously pissed him off and now no one was answering the phone in Anna and Natasha’s apartment.

Seven hours since he’d left Katya. Seven hours he’d spent spitting with fury trying to concentrate on one mess after another and now this. Fucking Viktor causing him problems again.

“Aleksei.” Anna purred his name.

“Put Katya on,” he snapped.

He heard Anna grumbling and then Katya’s quiet, “What?”

Her voice sent a jolt of desire to his gut and he took a breath to calm himself. “How are you?”

“How do you think?”

Not forgiven then and what he had to say wasn’t going to make things any better. “A car is coming to pick up you and Anna. A lawyer named John Hodgson is driving. He’s taking you to the Fort Lauderdale police. Let him do the talking. Pretend you don’t speak much English and need Anna to translate.”

“I don’t understand,” Katya said.

“They…want to arrest you for murder.”

“Oh God.”

He wished he was there to hold her, assuming she’d let him. “Don’t worry. It will be okay. Tell them you left your uncle’s house after one night and went to stay with Anna, a friend from Moscow. Anna will give you an alibi. Say you only found out what happened when you saw the news and realized the police were looking for you. Now put Anna on and tidy yourself up. Ask her to give you pants and a long sleeved shirt.” He waited. “Okay?”

There was long pause before she answered. “Okay.”

Aleksei went through everything he needed Anna to say and do, and made her repeat it to be sure she had it right. Before he went back into the meeting, he tried Viktor again. He knew Bruno would have already reported back he’d had to handcuff him to the bed, so Viktor knew he was furious, but the bastard didn’t know how deep his fury went.

“What do you want, Aleksei? Why are you bothering me?”

He stopped pacing. “Bothering you? Why the hell did you have to do that? You knew I liked her. That’s fucking why, isn’t it? You set me up. And I just found out what happened in Fort Lauderdale, you fucking degenerate.”

“Watch what you call me. You had a problem. I had it dealt with.”

“The police will be all over this.”

“You told me their names. You wanted them dealt with.”

“I didn’t ask or expect you to have them fucking hung, drawn and quartered.”

“I wonder if he’s tried that one yet.” Viktor laughed.

“This isn’t funny.”

“Lighten up, Aleksei.”

“You—”

The bastard cut him off.

* * * * *

Ethan preferred not to be around when Luisa woke up. It would just compound his mistake. Regardless of what he’d said about not wanting a relationship, every time she said “we,” panic fluttered in his stomach. If he’d stayed until morning she’d have asked him what he was doing that day and he’d have said house hunting. She’d have pushed to come with him and they’d have gotten into a discussion about aspect and storage and decoration which was exactly what he didn’t need.

Finding a place to live was going to be quick and painless. Within his budget, unfurnished, in need of no work whatsoever and on a short-term lease so he could look at his leisure for something to buy. A plan he’d lose interest in almost immediately.

The third place he saw, he signed to move in at once. Then he went looking for furniture and paid extra to have it delivered that day.

Ethan bought a bed, a couch and a TV, was using the last two items and feeling pretty pleased with himself when his cell phone rang.

“Disturbing you?” Brannon asked.

“No.”

“Pity. I’d hoped you were in the middle of eating because I just had the medical reports on the four amigos. Exsanguinations for three. The other suffocated on his pal’s balls.”

Ethan winced. “Not a surprise.”

“No, but this might be. I’ve taken a statement from a young lady who claims to be the niece of Vasily and Irina Novikov.”

Ethan sat up. “Really?”

“Made you sit up, Agent Roberts? Like to give me her name and tell me how you know her?”

“You tell me.”

Brannon snorted. “Yekaterina Mazarov. Arrival date checks out. Seems you arrived that day too, though not on the same flight. She stayed one night in Fort Lauderdale, instead of the several planned because she discovered her aunt was sick. She went from there to an address in South Beach to stay with a friend from Moscow, Anna Zamyatin, who also checks out. Both here legally. Katya’s prints match those found in the house.” He paused. “You get her to come in?”

“No. Why?”

“Because it was earlier today I got a match on the prints and her name from immigration. Before I could put out an APB, she turns up. Co-incidence or what?”

“Did she say why she’d come in?”

“Claims she saw the murder on the news.”

“How did she seem?”

“Upset, pale, real shook up, particularly when we told her another four people had been found dead in the house. I showed her a series of mug shots and included photos of the four. She hadn’t reacted to them, but when I told her they were tortured, she threw up. Lucky there was a garbage pail handy.”

“Was she on her own?”

“She was with the friend, Anna, and a Miami lawyer, John Hodgson.”

“Why did she think she needed a lawyer?”

“Anna’s idea. She’s been watching too many cop shows. She translated.”

A cog stopped in Ethan’s brain. “How was Katya’s English?”

“She only spoke Russian.”

“How did she explain her fingerprints on the knives and the pillowcase?”

“Well, we have a problem there. They’ve been temporarily mislaid.”

“How can you temporarily mislay vital evidence?”

“Maybe you can tell me,” Brannon snapped.

“I hope you’re not serious.” Ethan spoke through clenched teeth.

Ethan pictured Brannon’s face turning red, a combination of humiliation and high blood pressure.

“She said she’d handled all the knives while she was cleaning and we did find her prints on the others.”

“What about the money in the dog shed?” Ethan asked.

“Not hers. Her uncle asked her to count it. This is a dead end, unless you tell me different.”

I could.
“I can’t.”

Ethan thought the detective might have drawn a similar conclusion to him, that Katya had been raped by her uncle and killed him in self-defense. “Would you fax me a copy of her statement?”

“Sure.”

“What next?” Ethan asked.

“We’re going through the backgrounds of the dead men, interviewing their friends and work colleagues—unless I’m wasting my time. Do you have anything on them? Is this an OC case?”

“Not as far as I know. Please keep me informed.”

Ethan had a smile on his face when he put down the phone. Katya was alive.

* * * * *

Katya was frustrated when Anna invited the lawyer into the apartment because she’d wanted to talk to her alone. When the cops had asked a question, Anna more or less translated correctly, though she did embellish the answers. But when Katya had said the money was hers, Anna said it wasn’t and that she’d merely counted it. Since Katya had pretended not to speak much English, she couldn’t say anything.

In the midst of images on the computer, she’d seen Vasily’s four friends and longed to shout that two of them had raped her while the other two walked away, but said nothing. What was the point? When she learned all four had been tortured and were dead, she’d thrown up.

“Nice apartment,” Hodgson said.

“Would you like a drink?” Anna asked.

“What do you have?”

“Tea, coffee, vodka, scotch.”

“Stop there. On the rocks. A small one, since I’m driving.”

“Do you want a drink, Katya?”

She shook her head.

“I thought she didn’t speak English?” Hodgson said.

“Well, maybe a bit more than the police thought.” Anna winked and handed him a glass with ice and scotch. She knocked her glass against his. “
Na zdorovye
.”

“Good health,” he responded.

Katya curled up on Natasha’s bed listening to the pair laughing in the room next door. Had Aleksei told Anna to sleep with the lawyer? She thought again about the four dead men, tortured to death because two of them raped her. Why would Aleksei have them killed if he’d planned what happened in Phoenix? She swallowed hard. It drove the remaining doubt away. He’d been telling the truth when he said there’d been a mistake. He’d struggled as much as her.

Anna and the guy grew noisier. Katya could hear every single thing. She got out of bed and turned on the TV, clicked up the volume, then looked through Natasha’s DVDs. When she opened “Field of Dreams” and took out the disk, another unlabeled disk lay behind it. A moment later, Aleksei’s apartment was on the screen.

A guy in a diaper lay on his back in front of the window, a woman in stilettos and a nurse’s uniform shouting at him. He put his legs in the air and sucked his thumb while the woman cleaned him and talcum powdered his butt. Then she smacked him hard and told him he was a naughty boy. As the woman bent to take his penis in her mouth, Katya ejected the disk and put it back in its box.

She checked the other boxes and four more held extra disks. Always Aleksei’s apartment but different men, different scenarios. Anna featured in two. The camera Katya had covered in the bathroom had seen a lot of the action and she knew now another camera faced the bed she’d slept in. It was a stark reminder of what Aleksei was.

At two in the morning she was still awake with the light on when Natasha came in.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” she whispered.

“No, I wasn’t asleep. I’ll move to the couch.”

“Don’t be silly. It big bed.” She undressed. “I used to sleep with Mama and my sister after Papa left.”

“How old is your sister?”

“Ten. Mama’s attempt to get Papa to stay. Another baby didn’t work.”

“Do you miss them?”

“My sister, not Mama. Don’t be late home. Don’t forget to do washing. Don’t drink. Don’t smoke. Don’t take drugs. Was yours the same?”

“Yes,” Katya said.

As Natasha lifted the sheet to get into bed, her gaze dropped to the marks on Katya’s body. “Ouch. That must have hurt.”

“I thought he was going to kill me.”

Natasha squeezed her hand. “What happened?”

She hoped it would make her feel better to tell, but felt no different when she’d finished. Natasha didn’t even seem shocked.

“You shouldn’t struggle. I learn that fast. Men are stupid. All they care about is sex, money, cars, then sex again. My advice is look happy even if you feel like shit. Go with flow.”

“I wish I could walk out of here tomorrow and not come back.”

“Not good idea. You might come back in way you not intend, maybe with fingers cut off and stu—” She turned away.

“And what?” Katya’s heart beat faster.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

She moved so that her lips rested against Katya’s ear. “I had friend. Valentina. From St Petersburg. We went to Aleksei’s parties together. She didn’t like what he want us to do. Four month ago, she disappear. I thought she run away. She was found with fingers cut off and pushed inside her.”

Katya gasped. Was this the link she’d been looking for? “You think Aleksei did that?”

“No.” Natasha sounded shocked. “Not Aleksei. Never. He’s not like that. He keeps hands clean. He uses us but he pays well. He likes you. Anna’s angry.”

“I know.”

“She thinks she and Aleksei are item. She not using brain. You think she understand men by now.”

“Have you heard of a guy called Viktor Petrenko?”

“Viktor? Yeah, I met him few times.”

Katya coughed to hide her gasp. “Where?”

“At nightclub and party. Why? You know him?”

“No, but he owes me money. Do you know where he lives?”

“Somewhere in Bal Harbor, I think. Scary guy.”

Katya’s mouth was dry. “How does he know Aleksei?”

“Business. I don’t think Aleksei like him. Both times I saw them together they argue.” She yawned and rolled over.

No way could Katya sleep now. Could there be a connection between what had been done to Galya and what had happened to Natasha’s friend? Go with the flow, Natasha said. It wasn’t bad advice. She’d gone so far she didn’t want to just give up. If there’d been someone to go back to, it might have made a difference, but there wasn’t. This was all the life she had.