Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(69)
“You won’t.”
“You seem very confident. What makes you so sure?”
“Because I know how Carl Westover died. And I know who has his body.”
His perfect stillness sent a chill through me. His grin turned hard. His restraints clanked as he lifted his hands to the table, moving slowly enough not to rattle the guards. Fingers laced, he leaned toward me and whispered, “You’re playing a very dangerous game, Ms. Donovan.”
“I found Carl Westover in a freezer in West Virginia,” I explained in a low voice. “Theresa told me everything before she disappeared with Carl … or at least, most of Carl. I have one very identifiable piece of him. I’ve hidden it where no one will find it. But in case anything happens to me or my family, I’ve left a letter explaining everything to the police. I propose a deal. You delete the forum—all of it—and I won’t put Carl’s torso in Theresa’s BMW, park it in front of your restaurant, and call the paparazzi.” I let the rest simmer in the subtext between us. The discovery of Carl Westover’s body would be the nail in the coffin at his trial. If the police could prove he murdered Carl for refusing to let the mob use the farm, it would blow Kat’s already shaky defense to pieces. Feliks’s only play was to take the entire forum down.
His shoulders shook with silent laughter. He scratched the scruff on his jaw. “Anything else?”
“That, and you and your people stay out of my house and away from my family.”
“I see no need to visit your home or your family; you haven’t given me a reason to.” The word yet hung unspoken. Strangely, I believed him. He was too arrogant to lie, and Feliks’s truths were a far more effective weapon. He cocked his head. “Is that all?”
I opened my file and slid Vero’s accounting exam across the table, pointing to the small letters I’d printed next to a blob of red crayon. “This is the handle of a user on your forum. I need to know this person’s real name and how to find them.”
His eyes dipped to the paper between us. If he recognized EasyClean’s handle, his face gave nothing away. “Your demands are mutually exclusive, Ms. Donovan. A search like this will take some time. Once the site is down, all of its user information will disappear along with it. It seems you have a choice: I can take the site down, or I can try to find this EasyClean for you. Which will you choose?” The question was punctuated with a curious lilt, as if he knew he was backing me into a corner and he was eager to watch me squirm. The longer I paused to think about my answer, the more that curiosity seemed to sharpen. I didn’t like the way it cut like a scalpel through my fa?ade.
“Take down the site,” I said, sliding the paper off the table. “I’ll find EasyClean myself.”
Feliks smiled as if my answer surprised him. “I have no doubt you will. And I’m sure you will honor your end of our agreement.” He stood, his chains rattling softly against the front of his jumpsuit. “You are a fascinating woman, Ms. Donovan. I’m curious to see how this little game of yours plays out.” He gave me a lingering last look before rapping on the door.
CHAPTER 31
An officer led Feliks back to his cell. Another met me at the door. I followed my escort through the building, conversations quieting at the snap of my heels. A muttered obscenity earned a few laughs behind my back. Kat was an enemy in this place … the woman committed, either by duty or by kinship, to defend the indefensible acts of a man who’d slipped through the cracks in the system far too many times. The wig itched, and I was more than ready to take it off.
A cluster of uniformed officers turned to stare as I entered the lobby. I pushed my glasses up my nose, obscuring their view of my face, giving them a wide berth as I strode to the counter to sign out.
A cold rain greeted me as I pushed through the doors to the parking lot. Security lights glowed, gleaming off the wet pavement. Head ducked against the drizzle, I hurried toward my van. I’d hidden it on the far side of the lot, as away from the lighted areas as I could manage, tucked behind a maintenance truck. A car door slammed somewhere ahead of me. Taillights flashed and a lock chirped as a tall shadow slipped out from between two parked cars, his back hunched against the rain. I kept my head down as we passed each other.
“What gives, Rybakov?” I stumbled at the sound of Nick’s voice. “What? No insults tonight? I don’t know if I should be concerned or disappointed.”
I stiffened, keenly aware of how close we were standing. I angled my face away and kept walking, picking up my pace, desperate to put space between us as his footsteps splashed in the puddles toward the jail.
Suddenly they paused. His soles scraped the pavement as if he was turning around. “It’s a little late for a meet and greet, isn’t it, Counselor?” I skidded to a stop. My heart thudded in my ears as I heard him take a few steps closer. “If I didn’t know my case was airtight, I might think you and Zhirov were up to something.”
My mind raced. What would Kat do?
Keeping my back to him, I thrust my right hand in the air, saluting him with my raised middle finger. He barked out a laugh as I started briskly toward the maintenance truck.
“You always did have a way with words, Rybakov,” Nick called after me. “See you in court, Counselor.”
When the door to the jail clicked closed, I ducked behind my van, peeking through its windows to make sure Nick was gone. My hands shook as I fished in my bag for my keys. Trembling, I unlocked the door and melted into the driver’s seat.