I lean back, letting this settle. Timofey’s been using his college buddy to launder money through legitimate banking channels. Clean, smart, almost impossible to trace unless you know exactly where to look.
“How much?” I ask.
“Couple million, spread across multiple accounts. Nothing big enough to trigger federal attention. Just… persistent.” Boris scrolls through something on the tablet. “And here’s the interesting part: the timing matches up perfectly with Viktor’s skimming. Almost like someone was covering tracks before anyone noticed they were there.”
My eyelid twitches again. Not from stress this time.
From satisfaction.
“So Timofey sets up Viktor to take the fall for theft, while he’s been moving real money through his college roommate’s bank.” The pattern unfolds clean as origami. “Viktor gets disappeared, Timofey looks like the hero who helped catch the thief, and meanwhile, he’s been bleeding the operation dry through legitimate channels.”
Boris taps the screen again. Pulls up Mary’s employee file.
“Bingo,” Boris says. “And your girl Mary? She’s got access to the exact system Caleb’s been using to process these transactions. Same one Dave Thornton uses for his daily operations. Except now she’s flagged as someone who’s seen things she shouldn’t have.”
That’s why they want her gone. Not because she’s a loose end. Because she’s proof.
Suddenly, Mary isn’t just bait anymore.
She’s evidence.
I exhale slowly. Then push my empty coffee cup away.
“What do you want to do?” Boris asks.
I check the time. Glance at Mary’s screen. She’s typing something.
“Dima picks her up after her shift. To take her grocery shopping. Boris, I want to see if she’s being followed. You stay on the feed. See who blinks.”
Boris looks up at me. “Grocery shopping?”
Lev perks up. “Ooh. This just keeps getting better.”
“She needs to restock,” I say. “She mentioned it yesterday.”
It sounds ridiculous. I hear it. Hell, I feel it leave my mouth like a confession. But I push through.
“She can’t be eating out. People want her dead. Routine makes her a target. Controlled environments only.”
Boris stares. Like he’s waiting for me to admit I’m joking.
“And swing by her apartment,” I add. “Pick up her herb boxes from the balcony.”
“Herbs?” Boris says.
“Yeah. Basil. Mint. Something green. Just don’t kill them.”
Lev grins. “Or I could take her. Make it a date. I’ve been told I have excellent cart etiquette.”
I shoot him a look sharp enough to gut a man. “You’re coming with me to the Mirage. You think I’d leave you alone with her?”
He raises his sandwich in surrender. “Hey. I do great in grocery stores.”
Boris just rolls his eyes.
I lean back in the booth. The Mirage meeting is tomorrow. I still don’t have a body to pin the theft on. Still don’t have a clean way to expose Timofey without painting myself guilty by proximity.
But at least now I know the name of the man smiling behind the curtain.
