Leaning back in his chair, he shook his head. “I’ve got nothing, man.”
“Nothing at all?” I dropped into another chair.
“Nothing,” he confirmed. “I found a birth certificate”—he paused to slide it across the empty counter to me—“but no deathcertificate. I found a marriage certificate and birth certificates for her parents, but no death certificates. Typically, chasing someone back to their parents gives me a good start for more possible leads. With her?” He shook his head. “It’s like Kalina Boranov doesn’t exist anymore.”
I let out a deep breath, hating what this could mean. While he hadn’t found a death certificate, that didn’t mean she had to be alive. “Raisa would hate to hear the news of Kalina being dead.”
“There’s no way to know whether she is or not. The last records of her in school, from fourteen years ago, is the last she’s ever been seen or documented.” Again, he slid papers toward me. The copies showed that when she was twelve, she was enrolled in school in the city and receiving high grades.
“However,” he said, reaching to the side counter that made up the wide U-shaped desk formation, “I have found quite a bit about someone else.”
“Let me guess,” I said with a cringe. “Erik Boranov?”
“Bingo.” He slid over a thicker stack of papers encased in a folder.
I took it, flipping through some of the documents. “His name is all that’s come up in my searches.”
Simon was able to investigate faster, further, and more in-depth than I was, but it seemed that we’d both found mentions of Kalina’s older brother. The material he’d compiled was more vast than what I’d found, but it painted the same picture.
“Back when Luka was nervous about trusting Raisa in the family, he had me look up everything about her. Then when you all presented to the federation of Bratva bosses to request that Levbe accepted as a Dubinin heir as Ivan’s son rather than as a Petrov heir as Konstantin’s grandson, I came across Erik then.”
“He wasn’t at the council meeting, though?”
Simon shook his head. “While the Boranov faction is indirectly associated with the former lineage Konstantin Petrov led, Erik Boranov was never an official boss of any delegated family. Konstantin’s wife was a daughter of the dying-out Boranovs, and Kalina is the great-niece of an elder cousin.”
That explained how distant Raisa and Kalina were. But it would also allow for how the two women—or girls—might have met at larger family gatherings.
“Erik has been associated with Yusef Kashinan over the years as well.” He retrieved another folder of printouts and slid the folder holding them to me.
“I haven’t heard of him,” I admitted, still flipping through the documents he’d gathered about Erik.
Simon shrugged. “He isn’t a big player. But from all accounts, he’s a sadistic bastard like Erik. Both of them are reputed to be big gamblers. Both have multiple charges against them, ranging from rape, assault, and murder. Both have hefty debts owed to the Riveras, the Vipers, and even some motorcycle clubs in the Midwest.”
I whistled. “Sounds like they’ll have plenty of enemies.” I set the folder about Erik down on the counter. “Sadie mentioned Erik, too. She said she never worked on a case pertaining to him—or this Yusef character—but she was aware of how wanted Erik was for rape charges. It seemed like he was wanted for questioning about human trafficking, too.”
“Sounds about right. Whatever he’s done, he’s not someone to mess with.” Swiveling before scooting closer to his biggest keyboard, he sighed. “And he’s not someone who stays put for very long. He moves often. Avoids surveillance.”
“Just like a man on the run.”
“With all the debts he’s supposed to owe, can you blame him?” He tapped away. “He was last seen at a dock on the south side.” He pulled up a grainy image on a screen.
“That’s from nine months ago,” I pointed out.
“Like I said, he moves around. Never lets his face be captured on anything.”
I squinted, peering at the image of the man. The still shot lacked details, rendering Erik as nothing more than a blur of darkness on the screen. “No sign of Yusef with him at that time?”
Simon scoffed. “The last confirmed image of Yusef is from three years ago.”
“Damn.” I rubbed my jaw, frustrated. If Kalina was with her brother and his business associate, I doubted she was enjoying it. There was always the chance she could be in cahoots with him, equally shy of ever being captured on cameras anywhere in the city, but I doubted it.
“No sign of a woman ever being with Erik or Yusef?” I asked.
“Oh, sure. Plenty. Whores. Pimps. Escorts.” He scrolled through multiple images. “Some are dead, some are behind bars. Others roam free. But none of them resemble Kalina Boranov or any other relative.”
“She’s either hiding or hidden.”
He nodded. “And very well.”
