“Leave him?” she whispered, as if she were afraid he might hear us. “We can’t leave him!”
“If we take him, the police will only keep looking for him.”
“But if they find him with Andrei and all the others—”
“They’ll probably assume the mob killed them all.” It was a gamble, but moving Harris seemed far riskier. “Help me put Andrei with the others.” I grabbed his corpse under the arms, Vero grabbed his boots, and with a grunt, we lowered the rest of him into the hole. When the police came tomorrow and found a mass grave, they would find his freshly smoked cigarette and his gun. It would look like someone—probably Feliks—had met Andrei here, watched him bury the bodies, then executed him and dumped him with his victims, ridding his organization of the sloppy enforcer who kept thrusting his dirty business in the public eye.
Nick wouldn’t be here to take credit for the bust, but he would get the satisfaction of knowing he’d solved the case that finally put Feliks Zhirov behind bars. Patricia and Irina would be free of their husbands, Patricia and Aaron could come out of hiding, and Vero and I could get on with our lives.
Without a word, we shoveled all the dirt back into the grave and returned the shovels to the trunk, careful not to leave any traces of ourselves behind. When it was done, I got behind the wheel of Andrei’s car, and Vero followed me in the loaner to an overgrownfield about a mile down the road, where we abandoned Andrei’s car and left his wallet in the glove box.
On the way home, we stopped at Ramón’s garage, switched out the loaner for Vero’s Charger, and headed the rest of the way to South Riding in silence, too shocked and exhausted to speak.
We reached the park just before sunrise. Vero pulled over, checking to make sure nobody was watching as I climbed into the trunk. With an apologetic smile, she slammed it shut, closing me inside.
Curled up beside the shovels, I listened to her tires roll back onto the road. Her engine wound down to a soft purr as she slowed past Officer Roddy’s car, making sure he and Mrs. Haggerty both saw her return home alone.
I rocked as the car swung into the driveway. It idled while the garage door groaned open. The car pulled forward a few feet, then the engine died. Through the walls of the car, the motor hummed as the garage door lowered again. Vero’s door slammed, her sneakers squeaking on the smooth concrete as she rounded the car. The trunk flew open to her weary, grime-coated smile as she reached in to help me climb out of the dark.
CHAPTER 40
Vero and I kept the news on, watching the changing headlines as the day waned into night. We had just tucked the kids into bed when the story broke.
Six bodies, including the remains of Harris Mickler, reported missing by his wife nearly three weeks ago, have been found buried at the Rolling Green Sod and Tree Farm in Fauquier County. One of the bodies has been identified as suspected mob enforcer Andrei Borovkov. Detectives with both Fauquier and Fairfax County police say the killings appear to have been executions related to organized crime. While the owner of the farm claims he had no knowledge of the events before tonight and police say he is not a person of interest at this time, suspected mob boss Feliks Zhirov and an unnamed associate have been detained by police for questioning. More as this story develops.
My phone buzzed. I fished it from the sofa cushions. Steven’s name flashed on the screen.
“Finn? Are you and the kids okay?” He sounded frantic. I hated to admit it, but it was good to hear his voice.
“We’re fine. I just saw the news. Are you all right?”
“I think so. But they took Theresa in for questioning. I don’t know what’s happening.” I could hear the noises of the station in the background—walkie-talkies and buzzing doors, the booming voices of the officers ribbing one another in the halls. “Finn, I swear to god, I didn’t know about any of this.”
“I believe you.” I hugged my knees. It was hard not to feel guilty for my part in all of it. But even if I hadn’t buried Harris and Andrei in my ex-husband’s field, there had been four other bodies hidden there, thanks to Feliks Zhirov. At least now they could be identified and properly laid to rest. “Do you think Theresa knew?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. She swears she didn’t. But I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’m at the station right now. Your cop friend is here—Nick. He said I can stay until they’re done with her, but it might be a few hours before she’s released.”
Ifshe was released. If Nick or his boss believed Theresa had any inkling of what had been buried in that field, he’d book her and charge her as an accessory to the crimes.
“Take whatever time you need,” I reassured him. “Vero and I will take care of the kids. Do you want me to ask Georgia if she can meet you at the station?”
Steven released a shaky sigh. “That’d be… really great. Give the kids a kiss for me. I’ll call you tomorrow when I know more. And Finn,” he said, “I’m sorry. About all of this.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll figure it out.” He disconnected.
“Do you think Nick suspects anything?” Vero asked as I set down my phone. She curled on the other end of the couch in a pair of fuzzy slippers and warm pajamas, hugging a throw pillow. The news flickered on the muted TV. The headlines hadn’t changed much in the last few hours.
“If he did, we’d already be in the back of a cruiser on our way to the station.” Patricia would be a fool to confess anything now. If she was smart, she would come out of the woodwork, claiming she had suspected the mob was involved in her husband’s disappearance and she’d gone into hiding, fearing for her life. She could provide eyewitness testimony of her husband’s connections to Feliks’s dirty business, collect Harris’s life insurance policy, and go on to live a long, happy life with Aaron and their three dogs.
And Irina Borovkov was probably thrilled. Her husband was dead. Problem solved.
“What happens to Theresa?” Vero asked, resting her chin on the pillow, looking as tired as I felt. I doubted either of us would sleep much that night.
I tipped my head back against the couch, the events of last night finally catching up with me. “I guess that all depends on how much she knew. If she knowingly took bribes and allowed the mob to use the farm, she’s complicit in whatever crimes were buried there. If the police can prove it, she’ll probably go to jail.”
“Would that be so bad?” Vero asked.
I sighed. Maybe that thought should’ve given me some petty sense of satisfaction, that after all Theresa had done to our family, she’d gotten her just deserts. But I couldn’t make myself feel that way. Whoever Theresa had been to me, she was someone else to my children, and my heart hurt when I thought about what I would say to them if she ended up behind bars. I hoped, for her sake aswell as theirs, that she’d had no idea what Feliks had truly wanted from her. And maybe part of me—the bigger part—hoped that for Steven, too.
