I pull her closer with a hand on her hip. “They’re a good match.”
After Flash’s adoption, I spend time with Noah teaching him how to handle the dog and general facts about the behavior and needs of canine pets. At first, I’m always present when Noah is with Flash, but as time goes by and the integration evolves smoothly for both Noah and the dog, I allow him to spend short periods with Flash on his own while I remain in the background. When I’m sure that Noah’s got a handle on the new situation and that Flash is happy, I return my full attention to work related matters.
A few uneventful days go by during which I don’t get any closer to finding Tatiana’s kidnappers.
The emblem on the back of the lighter pistol leads me to a guy who makes pistols on order. He tells me the lighter was for one of his clients, a woman who wanted to give her husband something different for his birthday. When I tell him who I am, he’s quick to share her telephone number with me. It doesn’t take long to find her address, which is listed on her cell phone contract.
I take Ulysses with me as Reino is keeping an eye on the house. He promised Noah they could play ball with Flash.
The woman who opens the door of a fancy apartment in an affluent neighborhood has platinum blond hair and glacial blue eyes. I judge her to be in her early sixties. She wears a maxi dress with a flowery jacket. Strings of colorful beads are wound around her neck. The diamond on her ring finger is worth at least two luxury yachts.
She leans on the door frame, looking me up and down as she drags on a cigarette before saying with a slight Russian accent, “I know your face.”
I raise a brow. “Do you?”
“From the tabloids. You’re the bachelor who only dates blondes.”
I lift my left hand where the gold band on my finger catches the light, a ring I bought and forced my wife to put on my finger. “Married now.”
She utters a hoarse laugh. “She’s a lucky girl.” Sliding her gaze to the gun in the holster that shows beneath my jacket, she adds, “Or maybe not.”
The fact that she’s not concerned about the weapon or about opening her door for an armed man says she’s used to being around firearms and she’s not afraid of me.
She should be.
“I was hoping you could help me,” I say.
She takes another drag from her cigarette and blows the smoke sideways. “Is that so?”
“You bought a lighter pistol for your husband, Gavril Dmitriev.”
She narrows her heavy-lined eyes. “Oh, you mean the scumbag who promised to be faithful until the day he dies?”
Touché. “The weapon was involved in an incident. I’d like to speak to him.”
Scoffing, she tips her ash on the polished floor of the landing. “You’ll just waste your breath on that bastard. I can tell you right now where that zippo gun is. He gave it to a whore at the strip club where he fucks away his money.”
“He gave away a birthday gift from his wife?”
“Ex-wife.” Her red lips stretch into a humorless smile. “What can I say? He ran out of money to pay the whore.”
“I’d still like to speak to him.”
“Suit yourself.” She shrugs a shoulder. “I hope you shoot him.”
I only smile. That depends.
She rambles off a telephone number. “Since I kicked him out, he’s bunking with a friend from the bar where he drinks when he’s not fucking.” She flicks the cigarette on the floor and grinds the butt under the sole of her high-heeled sandal. “Black Horse Inn. It’s a dive.”
I know the place. It’s not officially under bratva control, but they do run some of their drugs through there.
I look at Ulysses, who stands next to me with his phone in his hand. He nods to indicate he’s saved the number.
“Thank you, ma’am.” I straighten my tie. “I appreciate your help.”
She crosses her arms and stares after us as we walk away.
“Check with the manager of the club where Naomi worked,” I tell Ulysses as we get into the car. Taking my gun from the holster, I leave it in the glove compartment. “Ask him what he knows about this guy.”
