Seeing Love: Saints Protection & Investigations (3 page)

Jude nodded in appreciation, smiling at Bart who had been instrumental in his decision to work for the Saints.

“We’ve got a new assignment that will take precedence.” Gaining the immediate attention of the group, Jack continued.

“We’ve been contacted by Ivan Krustas—”

Before Jack could speak further, a collective
what the fuck
came from the men around the table. Jude’s fiancé, Sabrina, had been kidnapped and the kidnapper tried to taking her to Ivan, a member of the Russian mob operating out of the Norfolk area. Ivan, in an attempt to keep the Feds out of his businesses, had worked with them to turn over one of his nephews who had become involved in human trafficking. Ivan, having no desire to have anything to do with Sabrina, kept her safe until Jude and Bart came to rescue her. The kidnapper was handed over to the FBI and the group assumed that would be the last they would hear from Ivan Krustas.

Jack silenced the group with a stare. “His grandson was kidnapped about thirty hours ago and of course, the FBI are working the case. Ivan contacted me last night, wanting our assistance.”

“Afraid of what the FBI will find out about his businesses?” Blaise asked. A veterinarian, with the looks of a Nordic Viking, had completed extensive work for DEA before joining Jack. Trained to assess and question, his mercurial mood could shift from easy-going to unyielding investigator instantly. A muscle in his square jaw ticked as he leaned forward in his chair.

“It’s his grandson,” Chad admonished, shooting a frustrated look toward Blaise. A former explosive expert with ATF, he usually saw the good in people, easily putting his life on the line.

Jack sucked in a deep breath, saying, “Probably a bit of both. He wants his grandson found, but is afraid that the FBI might not give it the attention it needs because they will use the opportunity to spend more time delving into his businesses than working to find his grandson.”

Monty, the dark-haired, debonair Saint, took over as Luke sent information to their tablets opened on the table. “I’ve been in contact with my former agency buddies and there’s the possibility Ivan is right. Obviously, the FBI wants to find his grandson but some agents are also chomping at the bit to dig more into the Krustas’ holdings in Norfolk.”

Jack carefully eyed the men around the table. All capable. All willing. His eyes landed on the large, blond, ex-Seal. Something Ivan had told him this morning stuck in his mind, making his choice for the lead investigator on this assignment imperative. Not sure if it was the right decision to make, he had always relied on his gut instinct when in the Special Forces.

“Bart. You take the lead,” Jack commanded.

Without hesitation, Bart nodded, glad for the vote of confidence. “You got it, sir,” he replied, a smile on his lips. As much as he hated the Russian mob activities in the Hampton Roads area of Virginia, he appreciated the chance to assist Ivan Krustas since he had helped in keeping his cousin safe.

Glancing at Jude, Bart knew the young investigator would love to be assigned to the mission as well since Sabrina was his fiancé, but Jack knew what he was doing. Jude needed more seasoning and working with Monty on the project would be perfect.

Luke, their former CIA computer expert, took over the presentation, his pen tapping on the table as the caffeine from his strong coffee kicked in. “Ivan lives in Virginia Beach, but his daughter and grandson live outside of Charlestown. The child was taken from his home at night while his mother was at a charity event.”

“No security?”

“It appears when Ivan’s son died several years ago and Ivan was embroiled in the investigations into his nephew’s businesses, his daughter-in-law moved to Charlestown to escape the publicity. According to Ivan, she wanted a more normal upbringing for her son and kept a low profile in their new town. Her son went to a private school and she lives in a gated community, but there is no special security.”

“Any demands?” Bart asked.

Jack nodded, “Yeah. For a quarter of a million which Ivan paid last night.” He caught the confused expressions of his men and leaning forward with his muscular arms on the table, continued. “All he got in return was a picture of his grandson holding a sign that said ‘Thanks’, and then he got another monetary demand. The missive said that Erik would be safe as long as the money kept coming.”

“Damn, extortion!” Chad exuded, blowing out a sharp breath.

“Not the usual kidnapping modus operandi,” Blaise commented, his calm statement belying his quick mind.

“Sounds personal,” Bart added, voicing what the others were thinking.

“That’s what I thought when I talked to him last night.” Jack looked over at Bart and said, “It seems Ivan received a few threatening missives before the kidnapping.”

“He knew it could happen and didn’t do more to protect his grandson?” Marc asked, his dark brows rose in question.

“The threats he received had nothing to do with his grandson. They were just general threats,” Jack responded. “The kidnapping came out of the blue.”

Turning to look at Bart, he added, “We’re all working this with you, and Monty will coordinate closely with his FBI contacts, but I want you to head to Charlestown this morning to talk to the family. Ivan is there at his daughter-in-law’s house and since you have a history with the man, you would have a better insight into what we’re looking at.”

“What kind of timetable are we up against?” Bart asked.

“Time is of the essence. We want to find Ivan’s grandson but, unlike most kidnappings and hostage situations, it seems that the kidnappers are willing to ride this out to financially cripple Ivan. The FBI is still very much in charge and we haven’t been called in to investigate by them. Our contract is with Ivan. He has a very specific assignment with us.”

Holding Bart’s gaze for a second longer than Bart was comfortable, Jack added, “Ivan told me that he has engaged the services of the local police’s artist, to see if there was anything they could come up with.”

Head cocked to the side, Bart asked, “Wouldn’t that be more useful if there had been a witness?”

“Ivan’s probably grasping at straws,” Chad commented. “Looking for anything and anyone who had been seen in the area.”

Nodding, Bart stood, saying goodbye to the group. The others stayed to continue delving into Ivan’s business and life while Bart headed back up the stairs. Bethany met him as he passed the kitchen, handing him a plastic container. His eyes looked down at the proffered dish as she grinned, saying, “Your chocolate-chip muffins to go.”

Leaning over to kiss the top of her head, he said, “You’re the best, Bethany. Thank you.”

“Save your flattery for your hookups, big guy,” she called after him as he winked at her, walking to the door.

As he drove through the security gate, chewing on a muffin, he appreciated his boss’ wife. A strange emotion passed through his mind at the thought of the woman’s bed he had left the other morning.
Dissatisfaction. Sure, sexually she’d been okay. She got off…I got off…what else is there?
Sighing, he wondered why he felt such disquiet. With a mental shake, he tried to focus on the mission at hand, but during his drive toward Charlestown, the idea of a special someone for him interrupted his planning.

D
riving up to
the security gate in front of the exclusive neighborhood, Bart was waved through after showing his identification to the guard. Jack had told him Ivan would take care all the arrangements for him to have full access.

Following the street as it wound past new, multi-million dollar homes, he wondered if this was one of the reasons Jack put him on point for the mission. Having grown up with wealthy parents and grandparents, he was accustomed to being comfortable in all types of social settings.

At the right address, he noted the black sedans parked outside the home. His gaze roamed the neighboring houses, taking in the area. Perfectly manicured lawns leading to huge mansions, each exterior different from the next.

Folding his tall frame out of his extended-cab truck, he stretched before walking to the front door. He noted the presence of several dark-suited men wandering the perimeter of the yard, eyeing him suspiciously. Answering his knock, an elderly woman in a housekeeper’s apron, her red-rimmed eyes partially hidden behind glasses, looked up. Introducing himself, she let him in and escorted him past several more men in dark suits, to the formal living room.

A young man Bart did not recognize stood near the fireplace. A huge Christmas tree, elegantly decorated, drew his eyes to the corner of the room. A few presents sat underneath, as though awaiting the child that would be coming down to open them in a week. The dark paneling of the room, along with the drawn heavy curtains, gave the room a gloomy countenance.

Sitting in a leather chair near the fireplace was Ivan Krustas. A distinguished older man, heavy-set with a square jaw and eyes that did not appear to miss anything, he nonetheless looked very different than when Bart had met him in Norfolk a few months ago. At that time, Ivan was a man in charge—of his life and the situation with Bart’s cousin. Now he looked…destroyed.

Ivan immediately stood, walking over with an outstretched hand. Bart took it, the shaky grip clasped in his hand. Instinctively, he thought,
This is a devastated man.

“Mr. Taggart, we meet again.”

“Mr. Krustas, please call me Bart. And I’m very sorry for the circumstances.”

Grief passed through the older man’s grey eyes as he offered Bart a seat. “You may call me Ivan as well. This,” he said, pointing to the young man, “is one of my nephews, Dmitry.”

Dmitry stepped forward, shaking Bart’s outstretched hand. It was easy for Bart to see the family resemblance.

“Mrs. Dukakas?” Ivan called to the housekeeper. As the woman appeared at the door, he instructed, “Would you please ask Constance to join us?”

The woman nodded quietly and left the room. Bart’s eyes followed her. After she was out of earshot, he asked, “Was she here the night Erik was taken?”

Ivan’s head nodded, each movement seeming to add age to his face. “Yes, she was the only one here. Her room is behind the kitchen. Actually, she has a small suite of rooms and has been with the family for many years.” He gave a small smile, and added, “She was with us when my son was a teenager. And when Constance demanded to leave the Hampton Roads area, Mrs. Dukakas decided to follow her and Erik.”

“I take it she did not hear anything that night?”

“No, no. She checked on Erik about ten p.m. and he was sound asleep. She made sure the alarms in the house were set and then turned in. She said she watched television until about eleven before going to sleep. She awoke at two a.m. when Constance came home from her event and checked on Erik, finding his room empty.”

“I’ve read the initial police report and, of course, we’re working with the FBI as well.”

“Humph,” Ivan snorted. “They care about the case but I also know the chance to delve into my businesses is of utmost importance to them. I fear they will use any excuse to focus on me rather than…” his voice cracked, “my grandson.” Ivan pressed his palms to his eyes, stemming the flow of tears.

Bart respectfully waited for a moment to give the older man a chance to compose himself, watching carefully as Dmitry stood close to Ivan, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“I thought the loss of my son to a heart attack several years ago would break my heart, but this…” he said, looking directly at Bart through haunted eyes, “is the worst agony imaginable.”

Ivan was offered a respite by the appearance of a beautiful woman entering the room. Her hair, normally coiffed, was pulled back into a ponytail. Designer clothes were replaced with yoga pants and a long-sleeved tunic that hung to her mid-thighs. Slippers encased her feet instead of heels. Her face was devoid of makeup as her red-rimmed eyes matched those of the housekeeper.

“I’ll bring tea for everyone,” Mrs. Dukakas said as she quietly left the room again.

Bart greeted Constance Krustas with a handshake and heartfelt condolences. Her eyes flared as she looked up at his face, but he knew his size could be intimidating. Wanting to make her more comfortable, he assisted her to sit on the sofa and he took the winged-back chair facing her. Glancing at Ivan, he watched as the older man sat next to his daughter-in-law, placing his hand on her arm as he handed her a tissue.
Their relationship seems to be good,
he noted as Constance offered her father-in-law a watery nod.

“Mrs. Krustas, I’ve read the detective’s report and have access to the FBI interviews. I want to make sure I understand the events from your and Ivan’s perspectives.” Receiving nods from the two, he continued. “Was there anything different about that night?”

Swallowing with difficulty, Constance shook her head. “No. I don’t go out a lot. Not really. But I’m on a few charity boards and they usually have some evening events.” Running her hand over her face, she took a shuddering breath and continued. “The police asked me if I noticed anything unusual, but I didn’t.”

“Did you drive yourself?”

“No, I had another charity board member give me a lift.”

He caught a glimpse of blush on her cheeks as she twisted the handkerchief in her hand nervously. Pressing her, he asked, “Anyone special?”

Licking her lips, she nodded. “I…it was Roger Montague.” Her eyes cut over to Ivan, but he just stared straight ahead. “We see each other occasionally. Just friends,” she added quickly. “But he’s been a good friend since I moved here.”

Bart noticed as her eyes darted over to Ivan’s once more. Ivan caught the movement and took Constance’s hand. “You’ll always be like a daughter to me, but I understand you’ll want to date. I never expected you to stay a lonely widow.”

She twisted in her seat and looked at Ivan. “It’s not like that, honestly. I’m not romantically involved. He’s just a friend and lives close by. He only gave me a ride that night.”

Bart interrupted, saying, “So he was aware Erik was home alone?”

She turned her face toward his, confusion clearly written there. “Yes, but then so would lots of others. I’m a single mother, so just about anyone who knew I was at the event would know he was here without me. But then, he wasn’t alone.”