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“But why?” She frowns. “I don’t understand what she has to do with any of this.”
I sigh, really not wanting to get into this with her right now. But I know she’s not going to relent until I throw her a bone. At least a little bit at a time, so she can process everything slowly.
“When I spoke to Alexei this morning, he mentioned that your mother had a connection to Gleb Mikhailov. Have you ever heard that name before?”
“No.” She shrugs. “Who is he?”
“He’s one of the Vory crime bosses. A big one. And he’s a very powerful man.”
Kat swallows, her expression morphing to one of horror. “You think my mother was connected to the mob?”
“It’s looking that way,” I admit. “But I’m trying to figure out how.”
Kat sits down on the sofa and shakes her head. “So, her car accident…”
“It could have been a mob hit,” I finish for her. “But I don’t know yet. That’s why this is important. Anything you can think of might help.”
She leans back into the sofa and blows out a breath. “I’ll see what I can remember.”
“Good girl.” I lean down and kiss her again, my tongue invading her mouth, and for a minute, I’m tempted to stay behind after all. But I know that I can’t. If Maxim gets even a hint that someone is sniffing around for him, he’ll disappear before I even get close.
“I’ll be back.” I pull away reluctantly. “Take care of our boy.”
“I will.” Kat offers me a dazed smile. “We’ll be waiting for you.”
* * *
After sitting outside of the first address for an hour, I quickly come to the conclusion that this isn’t where Maxim is hiding out. The house is owned by his ex-girlfriend’s father, but so far, all I’ve seen are an older couple and a bunch of rug rats running around the place.
I text Kat to check in, and she responds promptly as I drive to the second location. It’s a run-down single-level home squatting in the Elmwood neighborhood, and while it isn’t the place I’d choose to call home if I could help it, it definitely looks more like Maxim’s speed.
For two hours, I stare at the peeling paint and front yard full of weeds. At first glance, it doesn’t even look like anyone actually lives here. But there’s a garbage bin on the sidewalk and letters in the mailbox.
The problem is, I can’t stay camped out here all day. It’s past five already, and I don’t want to leave Kat and Josh alone for much longer. At the very least, I need to be back by bedtime.
I grab my phone and pull up a Google search for some local bars in the neighborhood. If there’s one thing I know about Maxim, it’s that he likes his whiskey. I doubt that’s changed. The man was a sloppy fucking drunk.
It’s the only lead I have to follow as I drive around the area, scoping out a few of the local bars. The first three turn up nothing, and I’m already considering it a lost cause. But there’s one more on the list, and when I pull into the parking lot, it seems like exactly the kind of place where he’d hang out. It’s barely a shack. A business hanging on by the skin of its teeth in a city that depends on drunks like Maxim to keep it afloat.
I park the SUV and walk inside, and every head at the bar turns to study me when I take a seat. As I suspected, these are all locals. The beer is cheap, and the stale peanut shells on the floor feel like home to many of them. But I don’t see Maxim. At least, not right away.
The bartender asks me what I want, and I tell her nothing. When I stand to leave, that’s when I see the bathroom door swinging open down the hallway. It’s not a well-lit area, so I can’t make out the guy’s face until he stumbles into the glow of one of the neon signs. Just about the same time recognition sparks in my brain, he notices me, and the sneaky bastard pivots on his heel and bolts back down the hallway.
Son of a bitch.
I don’t know if anyone else has even noticed, but right now, I can’t be fucked with worrying about that as I take off after him. He slips out the rear exit door, and it slams shut in my face before I reach it. He’s ten, maybe fifteen steps ahead of me when I stumble out into the alley and catch him sliding around the corner.
It’s dark, and I can’t see for shit when I go after him. But I don’t have to see to know the sound I just heard was him cocking a gun.
