“You son of a bitch!” Maxim catapulted out of the chair, and Vlad was already halfway across the kitchen ready to meet him. Maxim’s response was immediate, volatile, and in Vlad’s private estimation, completely out of proportion to his questions… Then again, maybe Maxim wasn’t as fucked up in his current state as Vlad presumed. “Don’t you dare try to turn this around on me! Don’t try to make me into what you… I know what you’re trying to do!” Maxim thrust out with the glass of vodka, and Vlad snatched it from him. He wasn’t eager to see his only glass broken, let alone potentially used against him as a weapon.
“I know what you’re trying to do.” Maxim breathed out shakily. “What you’re trying to think. I can’t believe you’d even consider it, but… here we are. And here I go.” He started for the door. “I’m leaving. I should have never come here. I thought I could talk to you about Father, and about how I… about how we ended things. We never thought that would be the last time we saw each other. I didn’t expect him to die! I didn’t want him to die!”
“Neither did Sergey,” Vlad said.
The two brothers glared at one another. Vlad noticed the fevered sheen in Maxim’s eyes and wondered if it came from being intoxicated, or something more. If he was drunk and emotional enough to threaten violence against his brother, whose apartment he had forced his way into, what else might he be capable of?
Maxim rarely allowed Vlad, or anyone else, to have the last word, but tonight appeared to be a night for revelations. Vlad watched as his brother turned away once more and departed without a word, catching himself slightly in the doorframe on his way out.
The green numbers on his microwave blinked ominously, signaling that it was well and officially midnight.
It was the one-month anniversary of their father’s murder.
Vlad had errands to run the next morning. He needed to have the locks on his apartment changed.
He also needed to swing by the O’Connor Fine Arts Gallery and deal with developments there. It might require seeing Madison again. This time, Vlad Karev wouldn’t be incognito when he dropped by. He dressed that morning for battle, donning his best and blackest suit like armor, tightening his cuffs like protective gauntlets. He ran a fine-toothed comb through his blond hair until it laid flat back against his skull, as perfectly tamed as his severe, considering expression.
No matter how bad his brother had looked last night, and no matter the renewed suspicions Maxim’s erratic behavior had inspired in Vlad, he wasn’t ready to give up Madison as a potential suspect just yet. The woman had revealed herself to be the one responsible for delivering the note to his father and setting up a meeting between the patriarchs. If Carson O’Connor was in any way involved with the events leading up to Sergey’s death, then Madison herself had acted as an accomplice, unwitting or not.
And Vlad knew there were very few things unwitting about the woman who operated the art gallery. If she was capable of making him forget, even for a moment, about his investigation, then it was also possible she was playing him. He might have had his hands on his own father’s murderess last night.
So when he put in the order for a lock and key change, he also had another set of keys made for himself. He placed a call. Then he drove down to the gallery and let himself in through the front doors.
“Vlad!” a hearty voice called over to him a half hour later. Vlad stood before the mural that had been the inspiration for his passion the night before, trying not to see himself in it. The voice was a welcome interruption; he had a feeling he had been standing in a state of consideration longer than was good for his rough image.
“Over here,” he said. He tucked an unlit cigarette behind his ear as Lukas Safin joined him. The other was lugging a duffle bag loaded to the seams with tangled electrical cords and rattling equipment. He dropped the bag between them and held his arms out to Vlad.
“Good to see you! How you doin’, buddy?”
Vlad’s mouth twitched in a smile, and he took Lukas up on the offered embrace. They cemented their bodies together briefly in brotherhood, and Lukas clapped him on the back. He didn’t even hug his own family outside of funerals, but Lukas was his best and maybe his only friend, and Vlad trusted him with his life. The pool of people he could confidently say that about was fast dwindling.
“Glad you called,” Lukas said as he drew back. “I just need a signature for the paperwork and then we can get started with the installation.”
Vlad appreciated the show Lukas was putting on. Most of the paperwork that circulated between them during jobs was for posterity’s sake. All it required was a quick scribble from him and they could get down to the real business at hand.
He handed the clipboard back to Lukas. The latter grinned, before his expression caved all at once at something over Vlad’s shoulder. The Russian felt his pulse still, and he was overcome by a strange inner quietude. The calm before the storm. He knew before he turned around to see what Lukas saw walking toward them.
Madison O’Connor strode into the room, her fiery red hair knotted up from the graceful, controlled line of her neck, and pinned back from her furious face. So she had come dressed for battle as well. Without thinking, Vlad reached into his pocket to touch the folded note that had been the start of all this.
He was shocked to find it gone.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but just what the hell is going on here?” Madison demanded. Lukas darted a look between them, clearly trying to get a bead on the situation. “I’m about to open for the day, and I would like to know who let you in here, and what the hell you think it is you’re doing.”
Vlad noticed her gaze, though furious, didn’t linger on him for long. He wondered if even in her fury at the intrusion, Madison O’Connor was having as hard a time forgetting where his hands had been the night before as he was. He decided to use it to his possible advantage now.
“I’m addressing a blind spot in your security system,” Vlad said. “Did you forget already? We tested it out at great length last night.”
“I wouldn’t say we spent a lot of time discussing it, Mr. Karev. And I certainly wouldn’t call the length in question ‘great’.” Madison’s cheeks colored, the constellation of her freckles darkening by degrees. Lukas’ glances between them were becoming almost comically frequent as he tried to read the subtext of the confrontation. Vlad didn’t care if he succeeded or not; all he cared about right now was winning against Madison.
But she wouldn’t be easily deterred. Her dark brown eyes snapped away from his to focus on the duffle bag; she kicked it with the side of her heel, gauging its weight. Lukas winced at the indelicate treatment of his equipment from such a delicate-looking woman. Remembering her comment about the lengths of things, Vlad thought a small part of him could sympathize.
“I’m not authorizing this. Any of this,” Madison stated.
“And I don’t require your authorization in the matter,” Vlad returned immediately. “It’s only right that I should be justified in taking the initiative to protect my family’s investment. In fact, I’d say it’s a generous gesture, considering I’m paying out of my own pocket to cover flaws in the security system set up by your family.”
“Flaws? Plural? Is it just one blind spot you’re looking into?” Madison kicked the duffle bag again, much more savagely this time, and Lukas groaned at the maltreatment. “Then why am I looking at multiple pieces of hardware here? You’re not intending to set these up around the gallery and double-down on footage, are you? Who is this?” She trained her dark eyes on Lukas suddenly, startling the security technician.