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Sergei Mitrofanov. No wonder his first name had sounded so familiar to her.
The creep had been brought in for a drug possession charge six months ago. Of course, lots of creeps came through the station for the same kind of charge, but that one had been different for several reasons.
One, Sergei was the son of Niklaus Mitrofanov, a Russian mafia kingpin in South Chicago. Internal Affairs was presently on a witch hunt to flush out all the dirty cops in the department on Niklaus’s payroll.
Two, less than twenty-four hours after his arrest, Sergei had been released because the evidence had been misplaced from the station, which resulted in a total mess for her and Henry Underwood, her grandfather’s last partner and protégé. Henry had been a rookie back then, but later became her own mentor when she’d joined the force. They were both being scrutinized by Internal Affairs for the mishap. She was the station’s administrator for all paperwork, which included cataloging incoming evidence. Henry had taken the job of managing the station’s evidence locker six months ago to knock out the remainder of his time until retirement. Though he missed his beat, Henry’s knees were shot. But Henry’s golden years were on the line. They both needed to be cleared of any wrongdoing in the Sergei Mitrofanov case soon. If not, they might get suspended or worse—lose their badges.
Three, and the final thing that tied this horrible package up with a nasty little bow, the arresting officers that had brought in Sergei were Nicole’s only two friends left in the station—Patricia Edmonds and Jaris Simmons. Patti and Jaris.
Navigating this mess might be more than Nicole could handle. Internal Affairs had already been a constant thorn in the district’s side since Mitrofanov’s release. Who could she talk to about what the sheriff was telling her? Normally, she would say Jaris, but now she wasn’t so sure, especially given what she was reading in the report on the screen. It had come from him, a man she trusted. He’d pulled her out of some very hot water on more than one occasion. He had her back. Always. Didn’t he still? She believed he did.
Should she talk to someone in IA about Wolfe’s findings on the Katherine White missing person’s case? She wasn’t sure that would be a good idea since it was rumored that a few of them had been bought. Besides, would her word have any credence given her own record? No. It didn’t matter anyway. Her commander probably was already on the horn with the higher-ups about this.
There was a contact number listed on the form.
“Hold on, Sheriff.” She put him on hold and dialed the number.
It rang three times and then the voice mail picked up. “This is Sergei.” The dead man’s voice had the Russian accent she remembered from the day he’d been booked.
She clicked it off and looked around the station, which was quiet for a Friday night. She was about to punch the red flashing button to bring the sheriff back on the line when Patti and Jaris walked back in from their smoke break. Funny, since only Patti still smoked. Jaris had quit three years ago, but he had told Nicole he still loved the smell of a freshly lit cigarette.
Patti was tall for a female, nearly six feet, but looked small next to Jaris’s six-five, muscular stature. Both were in uniform. He took off his hat, revealing his thick blond hair. Patti did the same, and her mane of dark locks fell to her shoulders.
Should I trust them? God knew she wanted to, but trust didn’t come easy for her. IA thought there were dirty cops inside the station, and she was beginning to believe they might be right. With her suspension in play, she could finally take some of her built-up leave the commander had been pushing her to use. She’d refused, afraid of being away from the station, afraid of facing temptation, afraid of being alone. Was this the opportunity to do some real police work she’d been looking for?
“Sheriff, do you know where Kathy White is now?”
“Here in Destiny. Why?” he asked.
“Just getting all the facts straight.” She needed to clear her name of this screwup. Talking to Ms. White might be a good start. The woman might know more about the Mitrofanov family than the sheriff believed. Why else would Sergei have somehow gotten his name on the report as White’s husband? A few questions about any cross associates of the woman might eventually lead Nicole back to her station and the ties that the Russian had there.
If she succeeded, she might also be able to clear Henry’s name, identify the officers who’d been on the receiving end of the Mitrofanov family, and give her own record a much needed boost.
But what if Jaris was at the center of the whole mess? Jaris was a friend. Better for h
er to find out before Internal Affairs did. She would give him the same favor he’d given her. It was the least she could do for Jaris.
When Patti waved at her, she punched the hold button.
“Are you there, Sheriff?” she asked.
“I am.”
“I’ll be in Destiny tomorrow.”
Chapter Two
Nicole couldn’t believe she was in danger, but Sheriff Jason Wolfe, his deputy, the former CIA agent, and the Russian guy had made quite the case that she might be.
“How do you know that?” she asked the dark-eyed man. “By your own words, you’ve been on several shit lists since leaving your old life. Who in the mob would still be talking to you?”
Alexei Markov shrugged. “Many peoples talk. I am friendly man. They also attempt to stab me, but luckily I am hard to kill.” The enormous bear of a man leaned forward. “I would not to be steering you in misdirection.”
And the big guy still seemed to be struggling with English.
Wearing sunglasses indoors, Dylan Strange, the former federal agent, turned to him. “When do you head back to Bliss?”
A brilliant smile came over the Russian’s face. “Now. I am missing my heart’s sweet. But do not to be worrying, I am working on idea to flush out badgers in Flower’s station in Chicago.”
