“I grew up with a Russian family living next door to me,” he said. “They escaped the communists in the 1950s, and came here with a couple of suitcases and the clothes on their backs. They were salt of the earth, and worked their assess off. They also loved this country.
“The Russians that come to the United States today are different. The majority of them have known only one leader, and that’s Putin, who’s a gangster and a cold-blooded murderer. Eighty percent of them think Putin’s doing a fine job, which is why he keeps getting reelected. They don’t love this country, or appreciate our democracy. Their loyalties lie elsewhere.”
“If they don’t love our country, then why do they move here?”
“To make money.”
“And you think Katya is working with the Vasileks.”
“She must be. They sponsored her over here, and paid her legal fees when she got in hot water. She moved to Saint Augustine and did something they didn’t like, so they sent Bogdan and Egor to clean up the mess. They’re all in this together.”
“It’s a nice theory. Now, how do we prove it?”
“Easy. We run the Vasileks down, and make them talk.”
“How? They’ll just lawyer up.”
“We’ll do it the old-fashioned way, and show them the error of their ways.”
Daniels shook her head. She loved Jon, except when he went rogue. That Jon was a different beast, and played outside the lines. He’d gotten away with it for a long time, but like any misbehavior, she knew that eventually it would catch up with him.
“I don’t like your approach,” she said.
“I wasn’t going to include you,” he said.
“Going to leave me out in the car?”
“Something like that. That way, if the Vasileks don’t play ball, and someone ends up getting hurt, you won’t feel any blowback.”
“I appreciate you looking out for me. Do you plan to interrogate the Vasileks yourself? Or are your friends going to be involved?”
He said nothing, which was answer enough. There was a large group of ex-SEALS living in Florida who came to each other’s assistance when the need arose. Jon kept in contact with many of these men, but only spoke about them in vague terms, leading her to believe that, like Jon, they made their living dealing on the fringes of the law.
“What if I forbid you from doing this? I can do that, you know,” she said.
His face turned to stone. “I asked you earlier if you wanted me working this investigation. You said yes. Did you change your mind?”
“Of course not. We’re a team.”
“Then take my lead for once. It won’t kill you.”
“For God’s sake—”
“We’re talking about your father. So what if I step on a few toes?”
Her cell phone, which lay on the table between them, began to vibrate, and she stared at the familiar number and 904 area code. Someone at the FBI’s Jacksonville office was calling her, and she suspected it was Erce, wanting to chew her out.
“That’s work,” she said.
“We need to come to a decision about this, Beth,” he said.
“We will. Let me take this.”
He rose from his chair and went outside into the darkened backyard.
“Special Agent Daniels,” she answered.
“This is Erce,” Special Agent Phillips said. “Can you talk?”
“I can talk. You’re working late tonight. What’s up?”
“We have a situation. A dead Russian gangster named Egor Sokolov was found in the bathroom of a rest stop off Interstate 95 with two bullets in his gut. The police were able to ID him through his fingerprints. I got a call from my boss because Sokolov is on the FBI’s watch list. My boss wants to know if I have any idea why this guy was here, and who might have shot him. Do you know anything about this?”
“I do. We engaged Egor and his brother earlier this evening.”
“Who shot him?”
“Lancaster did. We were rescuing a woman they were holding hostage.”
“That explains things. Before I reply, I think it would be best if we talk. I’m free tomorrow morning, if that works for you.”
Daniels ran her fingers through her hair. This was not good. If Erce leveled with his boss, and told him what she and Jon had done, she would get in hot water, and might get demoted or fired. But if Erce made up a story, and his boss found out later, it would be Erce who paid the price. It was a no-win situation for both of them.
“Tomorrow morning it is. Where would you like to meet?” she asked.
Phillips named a restaurant halfway between his office and Saint Augustine. She said goodbye and looked out the window at Jon’s shadowy silhouette. He held a cell phone to his face and appeared to be on a call. She went to the window and tapped the glass. He ended the call and joined her in the kitchen.
“I need to go talk to Erce in the morning,” she said. “The police found Egor Sokolov’s body in a rest stop off the interstate. His brother must have dumped him there.”
“My condolences.”
“Egor is on the FBI’s watch list. Erce’s boss is sniffing around, and wants to know if he knows anything about this.”
“Will Erce cover for you?”
“Maybe.”
“I thought you were friends.”
“We used to go running together at the academy. I’m not sure that counts as a friendship.”
“Would you cover for him, if the situation was reversed?”
She thought about it. “Yes, I would.”
“Hopefully he’ll feel the same way, and won’t throw you under the bus.”
“I sure hope so. Who were you talking to?”
“Your niece. She’s found another link. I told her I’d call her back.”
It was the last thing Daniels wanted to hear, and she slapped her hand on the table in frustration. Jon acted amused, and he sipped his coffee and tried not to smile.
“This isn’t funny,” she said. “Stop encouraging her.”
“I’m not encouraging her. She’s just mimicking her aunt. That’s what kids do — they find role models, and they imitate them.” He rose from the table and washed out his mug in the sink. “It’s getting late. I’d better call her back.”
Daniels hated when issues were left unresolved. They hadn’t decided how they were going to deal with the Vasileks; nor had she convinced Jon that breaking the law, even if it accomplished a good thing, was still a very bad idea.
Before she could speak her mind, Lancaster went back outside and shut the door behind him.
Chapter 18
Standing in the backyard beneath a full moon, Lancaster called Nicki back. Beth was angry at Nicki’s snooping, and he suspected she was angry that her niece had contacted him, instead of calling her aunt. That had to hurt.
“Hi, Jon!” Nicki answered. “You’re really going to like this.”
“Are you home, or still on the road?”
“We’re at home. My dad made great time driving back.”
The news relieved him. Bogdan Sokolov was also on the road, and although the chances of Nicki’s family and Bogdan crossing paths were infinitesimally slim, he still took comfort knowing that Nicki and her folks were back home, safe and sound.
“So what have you got for me?” he asked.
“The people in Saint Augustine that had mummified hands put on their doorsteps all knew Grandpa,” she said. “It wasn’t a random thing.”
“You sure about this?”
“Uh-huh. I searched each of their names during the drive home, and then cross-referenced each of them against Grandpa. They all knew each other.”
Lancaster thought back to his conversation with Officer Spencer in the driveway of Martin Daniels’s home. “Before Officer Spencer gave us those names, your aunt told you to go inside. You didn’t hide behind the front door and eavesdrop, did you?”