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He looked starkly different than when I saw him two days earlier. The suit was gone, replaced with a thick olive-green coat that had seen better days. A scruffy brown beanie sat low on his head. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Mismatched gloved hands clasped a large, steaming cup of coffee. No Lemon Drop that day.
Waving off the waitress, I slid into the booth. I didn’t have time for a drink or small talk, so I dove straight in.
“Sophia Banks’s real name is Aleks Petrova. I found her birth certificate hidden in her shed. She’s Kusma’s daughter, not his wife. Last night, a truck—white, I think—opened fire from the end of her driveway. The vehicle was meant to be a diversion for a lone shooter who came up on the backside of her cabin. I lost him in the woods. This morning,” I glanced at my watch, “roughly four hours ago, Sophia escaped the cabin and was kidnapped on a side road about a quarter mile from the center of Falcon Creek. I followed in pursuit until the tracks disappeared under fresh snowfall. It’s the same people who tried to gun her down last night, I’m sure of it.”
“What prompted the shootout in the first place?”
I noticed the faint smell of booze on Leo’s breath.
“Not sure. Either someone tailed me to her house, and they were spooked that she might tell me whatever the hell she’s hiding—which means someone has had their eye on her. Or she’s playing me like a goddamn record and is probably sitting in a hot tub getting drunk on Black Cell’s dime.”
“How did they kidnap her? Run her off the road?”
“No, her truck was destroyed in the shootout. She walked to town.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. It’s like she has a death wish.”
“Or maybe she just doesn’t care if she dies. Do you know if she has a cell phone with her? I could track it and pin her location if you know the number.”
“I don’t know. She sneaked out the bathroom window. I’m certain she doesn’t have much.” I jabbed my fingers through my hair. “I’ll talk to the people she works with at the diner. She has to have some sort of communication, if only to speak to them.”
“Do that, then I’ll see if I can ping it. But if it’s Kusma’s men who took her, they’re not stupid. The first thing they would have done was search her and disable her phone. If I had to guess, it’s probably in a million pieces along the side of the road, covered by an inch of snow by now.”
“What about a smartwatch? Do you know if she had one? I’m not sure if I remember seeing one on her ...”
“Same scenario—they’re not stupid. If so, it’s destroyed.”
“Shit.” I dragged in a deep breath. “What about her fake identity as Sophia Banks? What were you able to figure out?”
“That Sophia Banks isnotAleks Petrova.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I said Sophia Banks is not Aleks Petrova.”
“Impossible. I saw the driver’s license and the birth certificate. Why do you say that?”
“Because Aleks Petrova is dead,” he said. “Therefore, it is impossible that Sophia Banks is Aleks Petrova.”
He took a quick sip of coffee.
“The moment I got your voice mail, I began researching the name in my old case files. Aleks Petrova died in a car accident three years ago in Russia.” He slid a piece of paper across the table. “There’s the death certificate.”
I quickly scanned the paper, then tossed it across the table. “Then tell me why Sophia would have Aleks’s birth certificate and several pieces of the woman’s identification hidden in her home?”
He lifted a shoulder.
Impatience shot up my spine. “You’re supposed to be my damn contact here, Leo. You’re supposed to help me—that’s your job. You’re supposed to be a wealth of information for me. I don’t understand how no one seems to know anything about this woman. It doesn’t add up. Who else is linked to her, even loosely? You’ve got to give me something. Do your fucking job, Leo.”
He sat silent for a moment, contemplating something.
“These men ... they are very,verybad men, Justin. They are as smart as they are cruel. They’ve been underground for years, and no one, not even the US government, has been able to pin down their location.”
I scoffed. “They just weren’t looking hard enough. Anyone can be found. There is no such thing as ‘underground.’ It’s a bullshit term made up by those who have failed in finding someone. Who was the last government operative that looked for Black Cell? Give me their damn number.”
“I can’t.”
