Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(97)

CHAPTER 44


The police showed up at the house to take our statements early the next morning. We kept our stories simple and consistent. As far as the investigators were concerned, we’d known Theresa had family in the area, only because Steven had mentioned it before. We’d gone to the Westovers’ home to try to convince Theresa to turn herself in, and shortly after we’d arrived, the shooting had started.

I thanked the investigators and showed them to the door, peeking down the street to find Officer Roddy was no longer parked along the curb. If the DA and the police were all convinced Melissa Fuller was FedUp, as Joey had suggested last night, they probably assumed the threat to Steven was over and there was no reason to continue surveillance. I only wished that were true.

In a few hours, Steven would be on a plane to his sister’s house in Philadelphia. With any luck, we’d figure out who FedUp was before the new year, when he returned.

When the police left, I stared at my phone. How many hours could I stall this before Alan called Irina, searching for his missing Superleggera? Or worse, before Irina figured out what I’d done and sent Feliks’s goons to come after me?

Vero gave me an encouraging nod. I dialed the number for the car dealership and asked for Alan, listening to Christmas jazz through an excruciatingly long hold before he finally picked up.

“Alan speaking.” He sounded anxious, harried. I could picture him tugging at the knot in his tie.

“Hi.” I cleared my throat. “You probably remember me. We spoke last night when I picked up a vehicle with Irina Borovkov? I just wanted to let you know an emergency has come up and there’s going to be a little delay returning it. I’m really sorry. We had fully intended to—”

“There’s no need for an apology,” he said quickly.

“There’s not?”

“We have everything we need. We’ve issued a receipt for the payment, and the title and registration were picked up by the courier thirty minutes ago. Unless you require anything else, there’s no need to bring the vehicle back to us.” I held the phone to my ear, stunned. “Now, if there are no other concerns about the purchase, I’ll be going.”

The call disconnected. I stared at my phone.

“What happened?” Vero asked, setting a mug of coffee in front of me.

“I don’t know. I think Irina paid for the car.” It was the only explanation.

Vero’s body went boneless. She dropped into the chair beside me. “So we don’t have to bring it back?”

I shook my head. “Not to the dealership.” At some point, Irina would probably show up to claim her Superleggera. But hopefully by then, it would be fixed, and this entire nightmare would be behind us.

Vero let out a relieved sigh. She threw open the pantry door and reached up on her tiptoes for her hidden stash of cookies. The doorbell rang. Vero froze, her hand around the bag as our eyes caught.

“Who do you think it is?” she asked.

My sister wasn’t supposed to bring the kids home for another hour. “I don’t know.”

Vero followed me to the door. I peered through the curtain. Cam stood on the stoop, his hoodie pulled low to cover his face and a sealed envelope under his arm. I unlocked the bolt and swung it open.

“You!” Vero lunged for him as I threw out an arm to hold her back. “You stole my car!”

“I didn’t steal anything.” Cam held up a fob. “You left the dealer spare in the owner’s manual in your glove box. It was practically an invitation.”

Vero snatched it from his hand with an angry growl. “If there’s so much as a scratch on it, I will end you.” She shouldered past him out the door. Cam shook his head as he watched her storm off to the driveway to inspect her car.

“What are you doing here?” I dragged him inside my foyer, checking Mrs. Haggerty’s windows before shutting the door. Cam slid off his hood. His greasy bleached-blond hair had been dyed and shorn. He’d traded out his old army jacket for a leather one that smelled expensive and new. If it hadn’t been for the fading purple-and-green bruises on his cheek, I wasn’t sure I would have recognized him.

He handed me the envelope.

“What is this?” A blood-colored wax seal held it closed. The swirling impression of a Z matched the one on the signet ring Kat wore.

“Don’t ask me. I’m just the errand boy.”

“You’re working for Feliks?”

“Mr. Zhirov offered me a job. Said his people have been watching me. He was impressed with my skills, so we made a deal. I do a few odd jobs for him now and then. In return, he keeps certain people off my back and I earn a generous paycheck.”

“That’s it?” I had a feeling Cam wasn’t just running errands.

Cam shrugged. “He said if I stay in line and don’t bring unnecessary attention to our arrangement, he’ll let me work my way up from there. That’s why I brought your friend back her car. You know, as a show of good faith.” I raised an eyebrow. “And because Mr. Zhirov told me to,” he admitted.

“You and Feliks aren’t the only ones who had a deal, you know.” I reached up and turned his chin, examining his cheekbone. The swelling had gone down, but bursts of hideous colors had bloomed around his eye. I wasn’t sure if it looked better or worse. He swatted away my hand, but there was no real malice in it. “Nick says you haven’t been at home or school. Your mother must be worried sick about you.” My heart ached at the brief flash of pain in his eyes.