“Don’t ask me. I’m just the errand boy.”
“You’re working for Feliks?”
“Mr. Zhirov offered me a job. Said his people have been watching me. He was impressed with my skills, so we made a deal. I do a few odd jobs for him now and then. In return, he keeps certain people off my back and I earn a generous paycheck.”
“That’s it?” I had a feeling Cam wasn’t just running errands.
Cam shrugged. “He said if I stay in line and don’t bring unnecessary attention to our arrangement, he’ll let me work my way up from there. That’s why I brought your friend back her car. You know, as a show of good faith.” I raised an eyebrow. “And because Mr. Zhirov told me to,” he admitted.
“You and Feliks aren’t the only ones who had a deal, you know.” I reached up and turned his chin, examining his cheekbone. The swelling had gone down, but bursts of hideous colors had bloomed around his eye. I wasn’t sure if it looked better or worse. He swatted away my hand, but there was no real malice in it. “Nick says you haven’t been at home or school. Your mother must be worried sick about you.” My heart ached at the brief flash of pain in his eyes.
“She’d have to be there to notice.”
“What about your grandmother?”
He rubbed the dark bristles on his scalp. “She’s fine. I’m taking care of her.”
“Who’s taking care of you?” Cam was just a kid. A kid who’d grown up too fast and was in over his head. And while he might feel safe under Feliks’s arm, that safety was an illusion; a deal with Feliks didn’t make you bulletproof. “There has to be something…anythingyou can tell me aboutEasyClean,Cam. Who is he? Who did this to you?”
Cam winced. He dragged a roll of bills from the front pocket of his jeans and peeled off a fifty, folding it into my hand before returning the rest to his pocket. “Look, I wish I could help you. Just trust me when I tell you, you’re better off not knowing. Besides, even if I knew the guy’s real name, I couldn’t tell you anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Mr. Z made me give him that flash drive I was going to hand over to your cop friend. That was the other part of our deal. Butdon’t worry,” he said, pitching his voice low, as if maybe the walls were listening. “I might have scrubbed a few things.”
My throat worked around a hard swallow. How much had been on that drive?
Cam rubbed the bruise on his cheek. He blew out a hard, guilt-ridden sigh. “Look, the only thing I know for sure is thatEasyCleanis a cop. A real dirty one. Which means he has a lot more to lose if he gets busted, and he’s got all the tools he needs to cover his tracks.”
“How do you know he’s a police officer?”
Cam jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been around cops all my life. My dad was one. They have their own slang, their own language. I read all his posts and the emails in his sent files.EasyCleantalks like a cop.”
My mind raced back to my conversation with Joey. Every clue fit. Joey had means, motive, and countless opportunities to try to kill Steven. But last night, he’d also had an alibi. One I had yet to verify.
“Hey,” Cam said, dragging my attention from the window. “You still want my advice? Forget aboutEasyClean. He isn’t anybody a nice mom like you ought to be messing with. Neither is Mr. Z.” Cam withdrew a flimsy-looking flip phone from his pocket. It vibrated as he passed it to me. “This is for you.”
Before I could ask him who it was, he slid his hoodie over his head and slipped out the door. As he slunk across my lawn, a dark green Jaguar with tinted windows lurched to a stop at the curb in front of him. Cam opened the back door and ducked inside. Vero flipped him off from the front stoop as the Jaguar sped off.
The disposable phone continued to vibrate as Vero came inside and shut the door.Unknown Callerflashed across the screen. I thumbed it open, putting the call on speakerphone so both of us could hear.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“Greetings, Ms. Donovan.” Ekatarina Rybakov’s voice was all business. “Mr. Zhirov regrets that he could not deliver the package himself, but I believe the contents are self-explanatory.”
Vero held the phone as I tore open the wax seal, thumbing through the pages inside the envelope. A title and registration from the car dealership were inside, along with a bill of sale for aSuperleggera VolanteinModern Minimalist (black). The payment was made in full. In cash. By Feliks Zhirov. Vero took the sales slip from me, her eyes wide.
“Why are you giving me this?” I asked through a thin breath. Though as I read the name on the vehicle’s registration and title, I knew.Owner: FD Independent Consulting, LLC.
FD. Finlay Donovan.
Feliks had tied my name to a fake corporation. To a car he’d paid for.
Ihad become one of Feliks’s shell companies. At any point, Feliks could tip off the police and Nick would jump down the rabbit hole and find me. Feliks knew exactly what Nick and I had been doing after our dinner at Kvass.
And this was a message in return: Feliks Zhirovownedme.
“My client has been watching you for quite some time.” I could practically hear Kat’s mouth twist with amusement. “You must have made quite an impression.”
