Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(14)
Vero scuttled out from under the car, reaching back for me with both hands when she was safely on the other side. “Come on, Finn!” Digging her heels into the ground, she leveraged her weight and pulled. I scrabbled forward a few inches until something snagged the hood of my coat. Vero panted between tugs on my arm. She grunted when I didn’t move. “I know what I said about body positivity, but you might want to cut back on the Oreos!”
“That’s not funny! Keep pulling! I think he has my coat!”
I kicked out again as Ike wedged his upper body under the car. My shoe connected with something solid.
“Push harder!” Vero shouted as she pulled.
I thrust out with my foot. There was a cracking sound, then a horrible groan. Vero gave one final heave and my hood tore free. She flew backward, landing on her butt in the dirt, her momentum dragging me out from under the car until I was sprawled on the ground beside her. The ominous groan grew louder. We both shrieked at a loud snap, ducking into each other’s arms. We shielded our heads as a cloud of dust erupted around us and the ground shook.
Vero and I held each other as a hush fell over the salvage yard. We sat up slowly, waving grit from the air. When it cleared, the gap under the car was gone, the jacks and blocks nowhere in sight. The car’s chassis was pressed flat against the ground, the tower of smashed cars still perfectly balanced on top of it.
Vero and I scrambled to our feet, backing a cautious distance away from it. We listened for Ike’s angry shouts, but the only sound was the quiet hum of the highway a few miles off.
“You think he’s in there?” she asked in a shaky voice. “I mean, he could have gotten out, right?”
I swallowed. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Vero gave my shoulder a nudge. “Great, let me know how it goes.”
“Oh, no,” I said, turning her toward the stack of cars. “No way. I was the one who opened the freezer in the storage unit the day we found Carl.” And my husband’s former business partner had not been in one piece when he’d been put there.
“So?”
“So I touched a severed head, Vero! I think that earns me a pass this time!”
“Well I cleaned eau de Carl out of my trunk! Not only that, but I was the one who found all those dead dudes with their brains blown out in the field at the sod farm.”
“Yeah, well I performed mouth-to-mouth on Harris Mickler’s corpse!”
“That doesn’t count. He was probably still warm.”
“He’d been eating blue cheese olives, Vero!”
She shuddered. “Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not going alone.” She took my hand, leading us to the end of the row and looping us around, until we were back on the other side of the wall of cars we’d crawled under. Vero slowed, creeping toward the flattened station wagon. A pair of denim-clad legs protruded from under the frame.
Vero toed one of Ike’s sneakers, grimacing when he didn’t move.
I covered my eyes, peeking through my fingers. “Is he dead?”
“Remember that day we went shopping for snow shovels, and I told you we should get garden shovels instead? I take it back. This is definitely a snow shovel kind of job.”
“An interesting choice.” The rich purr of the woman’s voice came from behind us. Vero jumped back from the dead man’s legs. I stiffened as I recognized the familiar trace of the woman’s accent.
Ekatarina Rybakov, Feliks Zhirov’s star attorney, spared me a cool smile as I slowly turned around. And she hadn’t come alone.
CHAPTER 6
The tails of Kat’s trench coat fluttered around her black stiletto heels, her dark hair rippling like a curtain in the wind. Two huge men clad in black tactical pants, black beanies, and black leather jackets towered beside her. She folded her arms, her crimson lips quirking as she studied me. “I admit, your methods are effective, Ms. Donovan. Unorthodox,” she said, raising an eyebrow at the tower of cars, “but effective.”
Cam stood on his toes to peek over Kat’s shoulder. His face, which hadn’t looked too terrible last night after our tussle in the yard, had bloomed two black eyes since, and a pronounced knot perched on the bridge of his nose. He paled when he spotted Ike.
“This is not what it looks like,” I said, moving to block their view of him. “This guy … he was—”
“I know who he was,” Kat interrupted, studying her nails. “I have been watching him for some time, and I am aware of his interest in your childcare provider.”
“Accountant,” Vero corrected her.
Kat acknowledged Vero’s interjection with a dubious sideways glance before continuing. “Finding EasyClean is of the utmost importance to Feliks. He felt this man might be hindering your progress, but it seems my client’s concern was unnecessary. He’ll be pleased to know you already had the situation under control, and that you may now focus your full attention on the job you agreed to do for him.”
“Now wait just a minute!” I said, taking two steps toward her, pausing abruptly when her goons stepped forward, too. “I never agreed to anything.”
Kat gestured to Cam. “Cameron mentioned that you’ve expressed some reluctance to complete the job.” I glared at him over her shoulder. He touched the bruised bridge of his nose as he shrank from view. “Which brings us to the reason I am here, Ms. Donovan. Mr. Zhirov sent me to provide you with some incentive.” One of Kat’s men dropped a fat black duffel bag beside her, withdrawing a brick of cash and laying it in her hand. Kat fanned herself with the thick stack of bills, ignoring Vero’s covetous moan. “Feliks instructed me to pay off your nanny’s debt to this unfortunate man’s employer; however, that problem seems to have resolved itself—for the moment.” Kat grimaced at Ike’s legs. “Now it seems you have a more pressing issue to deal with, so this is what I propose.” Vero made a small noise of protest as Kat dropped the money into the open duffel and her goon zipped it closed. “You will complete your task for my client before the commencement of his trial, and in return,” she said, gesturing to her entourage, “Mr. Zhirov’s associates will not contact the police to disclose what they witnessed here tonight.”