The Guise of Another (25 page)

An hour into their drive north, Ianna Markova let her mind wander back to the scene at the bank, to that moment when Mr. Johnson told them that her name was on the contract for the safe-deposit box. She hadn't signed that contract, and James did a reasonably good job of forging her signature. But why? Why did he put her down as an owner of the box, and why did he never tell her about it?

As the miles slipped away, as she thought things through from every angle, she came to a single conclusion: James wanted her to have the flash drive that made money fall from the sky. He knew that if he ever died, the bank would eventually track her down to either pay the renewal for the box or claim its contents.

Then she wondered: if she'd known about the safe-deposit box all along, would she have tried so hard to get Alexander to help her? Would she have worked her talents to turn Alexander? Then again, calling it work really overstated things. He showed up ripe for her to pick. A cheating wife. A career in the toilet. If she hadn't been there to steer him, wouldn't he have taken this road anyway? If he had the flash drive in his hands and she was nowhere around, wouldn't he have chosen this new life over what he was leaving behind? Of course he would.

But still, if she had known about the safe-deposit box and all it held, would she have brought him along? That question tumbled in her head for much of the drive.

On one side of the ledger was the fact that she'd have to share the money with Alexander. Maybe they could increase the amount from half a million to a full million each year. After all, one has to account for inflation. Alexander would want to have a say in where they go, but she was pretty sure she could talk him into anything she wanted. She had a
talent for getting what she wanted. She could certainly make Alexander bend to her will.

On the other side of the ledger, Alexander was handsome and incredible in bed. But Ianna had a habit of losing interest in those attributes of a man. He had a dark side that she hadn't expected when they first met, and she liked that. They would need new names to hide behind. Surely he'd come across a fugitive trick or two that they might use. He was strong and smart and putty in her hands. But most of all, he could protect her.

The cops would stop looking for them someday. And they might be able to convince Alexander's brother, Max, to leave them in peace. But that madman, Drago Basta, he'd never stop hunting them. For the rest of their lives, they would fear what moved in the shadows around them—something she could learn to live with, considering the amount of money they would be extorting.

Alexander pulled the Cadillac into the parking lot of the Roadside Market in a little town called Hill City, Minnesota. “We'll need a few supplies for the trip. Want to come in with me?”

“Would it be okay if I stayed in the car? I trust you. Get whatever you think we'll need.”

Alexander leaned across the console and kissed her. She grabbed his face and held him in that kiss until she was satisfied that she had power over him. Then she let him leave her and go into the store.

After he'd gone, she found his cell phone inside the console, popped the back panel off, and reinstalled the battery. She'd been paying attention to Alexander's fingers whenever he used his phone. She knew that the phone unlock was a
Z
pattern brushed across the nine-dot grid, and his voicemail PIN was 7295—the four numbers that made the shape of a capital
A
, for Alexander. She accessed his voicemail and punched in the PIN. As she suspected, the first voicemail was a message from Max.

“Alexander, where the hell are you? Call me. They're talking arrest warrants. This is no joke. Call me!”

Ianna scanned the numbers and saw that Max had called eight times in the span of a few hours. She could not let Alexander hear those messages. Ianna knew that the biggest flaw in her plan wasn't Drago
Basta. James had been living under a false name for years. Basta never found him. No, the flaw in the plan would be Max. Especially in the first few weeks, until she and Alexander established themselves in their new lives, Alexander would be susceptible to the influence of a big brother. She suspected that if Max ever reached him, it would be only a matter of time before he convinced Alexander to turn himself in. She couldn't allow that.

She began erasing voicemails but stopped when she saw a message from a different number. She hoped that the message might be from Alexander's wife. A smile creased her lips as she thought about Desiree coming home and finding the pink, silk negligee lying on the floor beside the bed—exactly where Ianna had laid it. She became almost giddy as she imagined Desiree opening the pink phone and finding the picture of Ianna in bed with Alexander.

Ianna peeked at the door of the market to make sure that Alexander was nowhere around. She tapped the screen and listened.

“Detective, this is the man whose property you have,” a deep, throaty voice hissed into the phone. “I want to propose a trade.”

Ianna held the phone tight against her ear and listened to Desiree Rupert beg for her life. The man's anger surged through the phone as he spoke. The man ended the call with a demand “You will call me on this number. If I do not hear from you within one hour, she will die a very painful death.” Ianna looked at the time of the message. It had come in half an hour earlier, so the hour hadn't yet run. Again she looked toward the market to see that Alexander was still inside, paying for his groceries.

Ianna deleted the message. Then she picked up a bottle of water and poured it into the exposed back of the phone, tilting and shaking the device until the lights on its face went dead. She sloshed the water around for a bit longer to make sure that she had thoroughly short-circuited Alexander's phone. Once she was satisfied that the phone would never work again, she pulled the battery back out, dried both the phone and battery with the bottom of her dress, and placed them carefully back in the console.

Drago watched the clock as he drove north, and when an hour had passed, he found a gravel road that led to a wooded area with no houses in sight. He put the battery back into his phone and turned it on to check for messages. He had none. He got out of the Explorer and opened the back. Desiree was drenched with sweat from being under that blanket for the past hour. Drago untied the gag and pulled the negligee from her mouth, letting her gulp in the fresh air. Trails of mascara streaked her cheeks, and her hair clung to the perspiration on her face and neck.

Drago held his track phone in front of her face. “You see that?” He showed her that Alexander hadn't called. “Your husband did not call me back. That is not good. You see, he has something of mine, and I want it.” He turned to her so that she would look at the seriousness in his eyes. “You heard me give your husband the simple task of calling me. You heard me say that, didn't you?”

Desiree nodded her head, barely enough to be perceived.

“And yet, he hasn't called me. I tried to be fair about this. You think I'm being fair, don't you?”

She looked at him with wide, unsure eyes.

“You know that I can't wait forever. He's driving north. He's running away from you with another woman, and he's running away from me with my property. At some point I have to honor my word. You understand?”

“Wait…what if I could tell you where he's going? Will you let me live?”

People about to die will bargain away the world for one more breath of life. They will lie and cheat and betray their own mothers in
order to live. Drago doubted that Desiree had anything to trade, but he decided to hear her out. “You know where he's going?”

“You said he's going north, right?”

“That is correct.”

“What highway is he on?”

Drago contemplated whether to answer, but in the end, it wouldn't matter if she knew his path, so he told her. “When last I checked, he was on Highway 169 near Grand Rapids.”

Desiree nodded with determination. “I know where he's going. If I tell you, will you let me live? Please. You could just leave me in the woods—tied up if you want. I don't care. I don't want to die. Please!”

Drago gently skimmed the back of his hand along her temple, brushing away a tuft of hair that blocked his view of her face. “Desiree, you and I know that this…situation is not of your making. You had no hand in your husband's treachery. I am not a man without compassion. If you tell me where your husband is going, I will let you live.”

For the first time since Drago first put his gun in her face, Desiree could speak without a shiver in her voice. “He's going to our cabin. It's in the middle of nowhere up in northern Minnesota.”

“How do you know this?”

“He's in Grand Rapids. That's on the way.”

“And you could direct me to this cabin?”

“I have GPS in the car. It has the location of the cabin preprogrammed. If you let me loose, I'll show you.”

Drago looked upon Desiree with a strange feeling of pity. He lifted the gag back over her mouth. Desiree fought against this assault, a sense of betrayal coursing from her eyes.

“I will go and see if you are telling the truth,” Drago said. “This gag is only temporary, to ensure that you remain quiet.”

Drago walked to the cab and turned on the GPS. In a matter of a few minutes, he found the list of preprogrammed locations. One carried the designation “cabin.” He opened that location, and a blue line jumped on the screen, connecting his location on that gravel road to a red star on the edge of a lake. The path of the blue line followed the
path that the Cadillac had taken. Drago smiled. His prey was leading him to a secluded location where he could finish his business with ease.

He walked back to the tailgate of the Explorer to find Desiree looking up at him with pleading eyes. He removed her gag. “You did well, Desiree,” he said.

“You'll let me live?”

“Yes, but you will be tied up, as you yourself suggested. I cannot let you interfere with my work.”

He lifted her from the vehicle and untied her legs and ankles but kept her hands tied together. A path led back onto a strand of woods several acres deep. He nodded for her to walk in front of him, and they walked down the path. Above them, a sober fog clung to trees stripped bare by the chill of autumn. Beneath Desiree's bare feet, a blanket of leaves, red and yellow and brown, cushioned her steps, making their march into the woods all the more silent. Drago held onto her bicep as they walked, and through her robe he could feel her body tremble—from the cold, from fear—it didn't matter.

When they'd walked deep enough into the woods for Drago's liking, he led her to a basswood tree, thick and crooked and hidden. He untied her hands and instructed her to kneel and wrap her arms around the tree. She hesitated.

“You won't kill me?”

“I will leave you to your own wits. Whether you live or die will be out of my control.”

She eased her arms around the tree, flinching when her soft, warm cheek touched the cold, wet hardness of the tree trunk. Drago retied her wrists, put the gag back into her mouth, and stepped back. She watched his movements intently. He inspected his work, smiled, and pulled his gun from its holster.

“I am impressed that you would trade your husband's life for your own.”

When Desiree saw the gun, she closed her eyes and screamed into the gag, her body convulsing with the knowledge of her coming death. Her scream changed to a deep-throated, guttural howl born of rage.

“Believe me,” Drago said. “I take no pleasure in what I do, but I have no choice. You have seen my face. You know where I am going and what I will do when I get there.” He put the muzzle against the back of her neck. She shut her eyes, squeezing them tight as though her clench might be strong enough to deflect a bullet.

“I promise you, you will not feel pain,” he whispered. Then he pulled the trigger and relieved Desiree Rupert of her fear.

Max found Alexander's squad car parked in a tow-away zone in front of the apartment where Jericho Pope lived. The night before, when he and Alexander and Billie shared notes on the investigation, Alexander talked about the beautiful penthouse apartment and the millionaire lifestyle Jericho had acquired on the back of his blackmail scheme. Max knocked on the vestibule door and waved his badge to the young man at the security desk, who immediately buzzed him in. Max explained that he was there to follow up on the penthouse break-in. The security guard was more than helpful in getting Max into the penthouse.

On the way up, the security guard said that he saw Ms. Markova and another man exit the elevator on the garage level and leave in her car. Max asked if the man looked anything like him, and the guard said yes, that Max and the man could have been brothers. After the security guard opened the penthouse door, Max nodded thanks to the man as an indication for him to leave, which he did.

Max stepped carefully though the destruction of broken furniture and upended shelves, going room by room, looking for any sign of where his brother may have gone or why. He kept his hand on his gun, but the gun remained holstered.

In the front room, he found a hole in the wall above the fireplace. He knelt down and picked up the makeshift box that once held Jericho Pope's secrets. He held the box over the hole to see the mechanics of the hiding spot. Then he saw his brother's knife, a knife identical to his, a knife with a spring blade that is illegal in the hands of anyone who isn't a member of law enforcement. He picked up the knife and read his brother's initials etched into the bolster.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself. “You found it.” As those words left his mouth, a cold realization washed over him, and he whispered, “Oh, Festus, what have you done?”

Just then, his phone buzzed to let him know that he'd received an e-mail. He opened the e-mail and saw that Verizon had sent him the location of a ping on Alexander's phone. He looked at the address and knew immediately where Alexander was and where he was headed. The ping came from the vicinity of the Roadside Market in Hill City. Alexander always stopped there on their trips up to the cabin.

Max made a quick call to Niki Vang.

“Max,” Niki whispered. “Tiller and the chief are on the warpath. They're pissed as hell at Alexander and they're starting to get pissed at you. They keep asking me where you're at.”

“Niki, I'm sorry to get you screwed up in all this.”

“Shut up. I'm your partner. What do you need?”

“I need time. Tell them I was up all night. Tell them that I said I was going home and I don't want to be disturbed.”

“But you're not going home, are you?”

“No, I'm not. I have an errand to run—gotta go pick something up. I will likely be incommunicado for the rest of the day.”

“Good hunting, Max.”