"Did she ever mention Costa or Jonas to you?"
"No. What are you trying to get me to say?" Dominic asked with annoyance.
"Nothing. I'm just trying to connect the dots. Jonas was at the gym at the same time as Samantha. That's not a coincidence."
"Do you think he was stalking her? It sounds like the bombing was targeted to her and not because of her relationship with me?"
"I'm not sure we can make that assumption," he replied, seeing the eager light in Dominic's eyes to do exactly that. "She could have been targeted because of you, and you both have a connection to Forge Fitness. Elias Costa runs high-stakes poker games out of the club. Have you heard about those?"
"No."
"Mitch never mentioned it?"
Dominic shook his head. "I said no, Max."
"What about the Crimson Club? It's a strip club, owned by two brothers from Belarus, Alex and Sergei Novik."
Dominic's expression shifted with surprise. "Sergei Novik? I didn't realize he owned a strip club here in New York."
"But you know him?"
"Yes. We've been both rivals and partners in various projects."
Max wasn't thrilled to find a connection between Dominic and Novik. "You said rivals. Would he have a problem with you?"
"He's won a few bids over me; I've won a few over him. And sometimes we've been part of a joint investment group. There's no way he's involved in what happened to Samantha."
"No way? The man who spilled coffee on her was a frequent customer at Novik's strip club."
"Sergei has never mentioned anything to me about owning a strip club, but he has told me that his brother Alex always needs his money and his help. And he's been supporting him his entire life. He probably bought the club to give Alex a job. You should look into Alex."
"I'll look into both of them. I have to say I don't like the connection between you and Sergei, and I guarantee the FBI will dig into it."
"They won't find anything." Dominic stood up, pacing around the room as he ran a worried hand through his hair. "None of this makes sense, Max. If the bombing was about getting to me, where's the message? Where's the demand for cash? For power or access? What do they want?"
"Maybe they're not after money or leverage. It could be about revenge. You hurt someone; they want to hurt you back. Have you pissed anyone off lately?"
"I probably do that daily," Dominic said candidly, with little regret in his eyes. "You don't get to where I am without making waves."
He stared at the man who had once been a teenage friend, someone who had been born into wealth but had then become determined to quadruple that wealth, using whatever means necessary. He didn't know what lines Dominic had crossed to get to this penthouse apartment, to his globally big life, and that was the problem.
"Maybe you should come up with some names for me to look into," he said. "People you compete with. People you beat. People who wanted something from you and didn't get it."
"That would be a very long list."
"What about your team? What if we focus on your top-level executives? You told me when you first hired me, you were concerned someone in your inner circle had leaked your security plans in Dushanbe."
Dominic's lips twisted into a frown. "I am still concerned about that, but to blow up a café with not only Samantha in it, but a lot of other people…that seems unbelievable." Dominic paused. "Why don't you come to dinner tonight? My top three executives will be there along with investors I have done business with in the past. Maybe someone will reveal something to you I haven't been able to see."
"I could do that."
"But don't come as security. Let's make it look friendlier. Some of my team know you're working for me, but that you're also an old friend. Why don't you bring a woman with you? Maybe Kai could come."
"I guess I could ask her," he said, not thrilled about attending a dinner party that would probably yield few to no results. But if there was someone on Dominic's executive team who wanted to take him down or ruin his life, it would be good to get to know them all better.
"Cocktails are at six thirty. Dinner is at seven thirty. You can tell people you work security for me, but don't scare off my investors. Reassure them that Tajikistan is the best place in the world to invest their money."
"I'm not a salesman," he said dryly. "That's on you. But I will be discreet. In the meantime, I'm going to see what else I can find out about Jonas Cray and his possible employers. Because he was hired to spill that coffee. There is no doubt in my mind about that. And whoever hired him for that job probably also killed him.
