Trench’s saving grace was that he was Gromyko’s sister’s only son. The Greek loved her more than he loved anyone else, so as much as he would have liked to disown Trench, that wasn’t in the cards. And now he would have to call his sister to tell her the news.
“Find out who did this,” he said. “Then I will destroy him.”
“When I know, you will know.”
As the Bean Counter left, Gromyko stormed back into the bedroom. The woman was in the bed, the sheet barely covering her.
“I was starting to think you forgot about me.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out now.”
He marched to his dresser, pulled out several one-hundred-dollar bills, and tossed them at her. “For your time.”
“Hey, I’m not—”
The stare he gave her cut her off. She gathered the money, dressed quickly, and was out of there in a flash.
Chapter 27
Stone woke the next morning to find the bed beside him empty and his secure cell phone ringing. From the lack of a caller ID, he knew who it was.
“This is early even for you, Lance,” he answered.
“It’s not every day one of my consultants is almost blown up.”
“Your concern is touching.”
“It’s not you I’m concerned about. It’s the fact that if you died, I’d have to find a replacement.”
“Again, I’m touched. Is there another reason for your call other than to remind me how important I am to you?”
“There is. I’m afraid you might have kicked a hornets’ nest.”
“How so?”
“If my information is correct, last night’s car bomb had been intended for you. But it was relocated before it was set off.”
“Let’s pretend that’s correct. What does that have to do with a hornets’ nest?”
“Do you know who Trench Molder is?”
“I believe you mean ‘was.’ ”
“The question is the same.”
“He was a self-important layabout with too much time on his hands.”
“He may have been that, but he was also related to the Greek.”
That stopped Stone. He’d had an up-close and personal relationship with Serge Gromyko, aka the Greek. The man was the former head of the Russian mob. Former because Stone had ended the Greek’s life with a bullet to the head.
“Trench was a Gromyko?”
“No,” Lance said, “but his uncle is.”
“Again, I think you are confusing your verb tenses. The Greek is dead.”
“I’m talking about the new Greek.”
“The new Greek?”
“Alexei Gromyko.”
“There’s another Gromyko?”
“Serge’s half brother. Took over after you removed Serge from the picture. And before you ask, he’s also half Russian, half Greek. Their mothers are sisters.”
“That’s a disturbing family tree.”
“The important branch to you is that Alexei’s sister is Trench’s mother.”
“And now you’re going to tell me this new Greek and Trench were close.”
“Close or not, he will not be pleased his nephew is dead.”
“The bomb wasn’t mine, and I didn’t set it off. Trench killed himself.”
“Do you think that’s how the Greek will see it?”
“Gee, thanks for being a bright ray of sunshine.”
“I am only the friendly messenger. My suggestion is to take the appropriate precautions.”
The line went dead.
Stone sat up, his mind churning through this new information. It took him several moments before he realized Matilda was standing in the room, fully dressed, and with her travel case beside her.
“Going home for more clothes?” he asked.
“I’m going to visit my sister.”
“Will you be back in time for dinner? Or...”
“She lives in Los Angeles.”
“So that’s a no, then.”
She expelled a breath, then sat on the bed near him. “Thank you for letting me stay here with you. On the whole, it’s been a wonderful time.”
“I sense a but coming.”
A weak smile. “But what happened last night seems to have knocked me off-kilter.”
“Explosions have a way of doing that.”
“My sister has been asking me to visit for a while, and now seems as good a time as any. Better, really.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. Are you going to try to talk me into staying?”
Given the turn of events, Stone thought her leaving town was an excellent idea. But there was no need to increase her anxiety. “Would it work if I did?”
“Maybe, I don’t know.” She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. I need to clear my mind, and I can’t do that here in the city.”
“I understand.”
“Maybe I’ll do some painting. Who knows?” She leaned over and kissed him tenderly. “I’ll miss you. But something tells me you’ll find new companionship soon enough.” She smirked knowingly, then stood. “Well, I’ll be off.”
“Surely, you can have breakfast first.”
“No time, I’m afraid. I’ve already purchased my ticket and need to get to the airport. All I have to do is call a cab.”
“Nonsense. Fred can take you. Let me get dressed, and we’ll get you sorted.”
Ten minutes later they were in the garage, with Matilda’s bag in the trunk of the Bentley.
“Thank you, again. You saved my life,” she said and gave him a hug.
“We’ll see each other soon.”
“Maybe.”
As she pulled away, the sound of someone entering the garage caused them both to look over.
“Hi,” Carly said. She was dressed for a day at the office. “What’s going on here?”
“Matilda’s off to California to visit her sister,” Stone said.
“Oh. Have a good trip.”
“I plan to,” Matilda said. She started to climb into the Bentley, then stopped and glanced back at Carly. “He’s all yours now.”
Before Stone could react, she entered the car and closed the door behind her.
He shrugged and said to Carly, “I have no idea what that was all about.”
“That’s okay. I do.” She got into her car and drove out right behind the Bentley.
Chapter 28
Across town, the Bean Counter’s secretary, Lauren, stuck her head into his office. “He’s here.”
“Show him in.”
Moments later, his protégé, Leonid Korolev, entered. A six-foot-four slab of muscle wrapped in a three-thousand-dollar Armani suit, Korolev was an intimidating sight. Worse, at least to those who crossed the family, he was both smart and clever, two things that did not always go together.
“You wished to see me, sir?” he said.
The Bean Counter motioned to the chair on the other side of his desk. “Have a seat.” When he did, the Bean Counter went on, “Are you familiar with Trench Molder?”
“Greek’s nephew? I have met him once or twice.” There was no missing the disdain in Korolev’s voice.
“You won’t have to worry about running into him anymore.”
“Sir?”
“He’s dead.”
Korolev’s only reaction was a slight raise in his eyebrow.
“But as I’m sure you can guess, the Greek is not happy.”
“How did Trench die?”
“Car bomb.”
This time Korolev did not even attempt to hide his surprise.
“I need you to find out who is responsible,” the Bean Counter said. He set a piece of paper in front of his lieutenant that had three phone numbers on it. “Memorize these then destroy this. They are the numbers of friends of the family who work on the police force.” In other words, men on the payroll who could tell Korolev what the police knew. The Bean Counter laid a key on top of the paper. “And this is to Trench’s apartment.”