Until the End (Volkov Bratva #2)(44)
When he was done, flipping his notebook closed, he looked to Lauren. “I still think you should come by the station…if you remember anything.” He withdrew one of his business cards and handed it to her.
He disappeared back out into the crowd, leaving Lauren with a slightly irritated Mishca.
“I’m fine, Mish,” she promised when he turned her hands over to look at her wrists. “He didn’t grab me that hard.”
“Still.” He brought her hands up to his face, pressing a soft kiss to both.
Despite the craziness around him, he made an effort to make her feel okay. “Seriously, I’m good. Do I need to stay for anything else?”
She figured he would want her to leave since there was no need for her to hang around, but he surprised her when he shook his head.
“Stay, I don’t want you leaving by yourself and I need Vlad here for the time being.”
“But won’t I be in the way? I’m kind of just standing here.”
She trailed off when she noticed Mishca was no longer listening, his attention back at the entrance of his club where she could see a black Explorer pulling up with flashing blue lights.
Two vague shapes climbed out of the truck, flashing their credentials before ducking beneath the yellow tape and walking inside.
One was female, one was male. The latter wore a traditional black suit and tie, his dress shirt pristine. He had eyes like a hawk, immediately zeroing on Vlad and the men, then to Mishca and Lauren.
His partner, though, only had eyes for Mishca.
She was tall, made even taller by the heels she wore. Her hair was long, cascading down her back, pin-straight. She also had the smile of a woman that was used to a position of power.
There was a difference between her and the man that was trailing behind her, and the detectives already present. She held her head high, cutting through the crowd with considerable ease.
Mishca cursed beneath his breath, his entire demeanor changing as he took a step forward, wanting to cut her off before she could get too close and notice Lauren with him. Judging from the expression on his face, he already knew the woman quite well.
“Special Agent Tabitha Green, always a pleasure.”
Despite the rather content smile on his face, Mishca couldn’t have sounded more condescending if he tried.
The Agent smiled, placing a hand on her hip as she stopped some feet away, the gold badge at her waist glinting in the low light.
“Volkov.”
“I doubt this was the act of a terrorist, what do I owe the honor of having the FBI in my club?”
She grinned, all straight white teeth. “Only the best for my favorite Captain. I thought I could lend my expertise in case it might be a new syndicate in town trying to send a message.”
Lauren couldn’t see Mishca’s face since he was turned away from her, and since he lowered his voice, she couldn’t make out what he was saying either.
Whatever he’d said made her laugh. “Nonsense. Now, how about you give me your statement and I’ll corroborate it with my other witnesses.”
How can she have witnesses if she just got here? Lauren wondered still looking at her.
“Fine,” Mishca said raising his voice. “We can step over here.”
He was deliberately trying to keep her attention off of Lauren, but he should have known that by doing so, she would find it suspicious.
Before she could say anything to Lauren, however, Lauren turned her back and began walking to the back of the club. She’d said everything she saw and telling another person—especially an FBI agent—would not help.
Just as quickly as the agents had arrived, more people were entering the club. This was supposed to be a crime scene and the tape was meant to keep everyone out to prevent any further contamination of the scene, but even if they tried, and they didn’t, the police couldn’t hold back their latest guest.
Mikhail had arrived.
It was the first time since their meeting at Diego’s that Lauren had seen the Russian mob boss, but today, he didn’t have his usual easy, albeit a little arrogant, smirk.
He looked pissed.
He still spoke cordially to all of the officers, even the men and women that were digging bullets out of the walls and photographing them. If he hadn’t shown up, Lauren might have believed that this was a random incident, but to call in his father, Mishca had to know who had done it.
He smiled when he noticed Lauren off by herself. Without a word to any of his men, he walked over, his hands clasped behind his back, his angry expression melting away.
“This is not a place for you. My driver will take you home,” Mikhail offered, gesturing to one of the three men he arrived with.
Even if the man hadn’t given her a sly, predatory gaze when she looked over at him, she still wouldn’t have gotten in any car with him.
“Mishca wants me to stay.”
“Hmm…and is that what you want?”
She blinked, surprised that he would even care—if he did. “Yes, I’ll just wait for him.”
Mishca glanced at her, his eyes narrowing when he noticed her with Mikhail. He spoke quickly with Agent Green, rolling his eyes when she tried to continue her pseudo-interrogation. He pointed to Vlad, a secret message to the enforcer that only they knew.
“Go ahead,” Mikhail said when Mishca looked to Lauren first. “I can wait.”
London Miller's Books
- Where the Snow Falls (Seasons of Betrayal #2)
- Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)
- Celt. (Den of Mercenaries #2)
- The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)
- In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)
- Valon: What Once Was (Volkov Bratva Novella)
- Time Stood Still (Volkov Bratva #3.5)
- Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)
- Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1)
- Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)