Page 75 of Exacting Vengeance

Her boss nodded, then turned and went back into his office.

Brad had been concerned but understanding when she’d spoken with him. In his fatherly way, he’d backed her up and assured her she would always have a place at Brad Evans Psychology.

While she’d been given strict instructions not to tell him, Tracee, or anyone else any details, she’d insisted on AUSA Washington letting her tell them she was a witness in a Russian organized crime investigation. How else could she explain why there were FBI agents outside the building at all times and periodically popping in to see her? The only reason they’d acquiesced to not camping out in the office was due to the security guards stationed in the main floor lobby and the swipe cards necessary to access the elevators.

FBI agents—not Kyle—had been assigned to guard her day and night. Kyle probably couldn’t stand the sight of her, and she couldn’t blame him. Another agent, sometimes Jack, sometimes Deke, checked in with her by phone nearly every day, making sure she was okay and providing relevant updates. Especially regarding Yuri, who’s location was still unknown. She’d refused to have an agent inside her apartment or let one drive her to and from work. Settling for them following her everywhere had seemed like a good compromise.

Deke strolled in, closing the door behind him and making himself comfortable in the same chair Kyle had once sat in. “Thought I’d stop in and give you an update.”

“I’m all ears.” Anything for a distraction. Although seeing Deke only made her lonelier for Kyle. The brothers all looked decidedly different, yet had inherent characteristics in common. Ones that never failed to remind her of Kyle.

“We took the money from your safe deposit box in South Orange. You keep accurate records. The ledger matched up to the dollar what was left in the box. Just under a million.”

“I’m nothing if not a good accountant,” she joked. Deke responded with a rueful smile. “Any chance the U.S. Attorney’s Office would ever consider donating the rest of that money?” she asked, hoping beyond hope.

“Doubtful.” Deke shook his head, sending a thick lock of sandy-blond hair falling over his forehead. “When the case is over, the AUSA will be obligated to divvy it up between the families of the kidnap victims. But,” he added with a slight grin, evidencing adorable matching dimples in his cheeks, “if you provide AUSA Washington with a list of the charities you donated the rest to, they won’t be going after that money. They just want to make sure the remainder adds up to the balance in the ledger.”

“I’d be happy to provide that list.” Now it was her turn to smile, something she hadn’t done in two weeks. “After the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York herself provides me with her signed assurance the money will remain in full with the charities. And,” she added, leaning across her desk and clasping her hands, “if the FBI or any other government agency goes back on that promise, I’ll go straight to the media. I realize those poor families lost their loved ones, but it also wouldn’t look good for Uncle Sam to yank back the money from those charities.”

“Agreed.” Deke nodded. “That’s why Kyle already extracted that very promise from AUSA Washington. The letter to you should be forthcoming in the next couple of days. And speaking of Kyle, he’s been out every night looking for Yuri. We still can’t find him. Aside from occasional meetings with Lebedev, no one in Brighton Beach has seen him in weeks, and no one knows where he’s living. It’s almost like he’s dropped off the face of the earth.”

She ought to be pleased Kyle was working tirelessly to find Yuri. Instead, it only made her heart ache more. All his hard work was for the case, not for her. At least, not for her as a woman. Maybe, for her as a witness. To put a cap on an investigation he’d basically been running for ten years, and all because she’d withheld critical information from him and the FBI.

Not that she had a right to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself. “How is he?”

“He’s beat, practically running on empty. Maybe you should—” Deke rested his forearms on his knees but didn’t finish what he’d been about to say.

“Maybe I should what?”

Deke pressed his lips together, as if he was about to shut down on her. “What you dumped on him was some pretty heavy stuff. Maybe you should give him more time to process everything.”

“Right. Process.” She wanted to believe Deke knew what was in Kyle’s heart but couldn’t take the emotional risk of reading too much into it. “I’m not sure how much time I have left before the U.S. Attorney’s Office makes a decision about what to do with me.” If there were such a thing as a co-ed federal prison, she and Yuri could wind up in adjacent prison cells in the not-too-distant future.

“You know,” Deke said, “Kyle’s been spending nights surveilling Brighton Beach for Yuri and days trying to get enough evidence to convince AUSA Washington to give you full immunity.”

“Why is he working so hard to get me immunity?” Her heart wished it was to keep her from going to prison so they could have a future together, but her head knew otherwise. This was out of a sense of duty, or an obligation because of what she’d gone through in Chicago.

“I can’t say for sure. Only he knows that.” Deke pursed his lips, eying her with compassion. “On the brighter side, we found a financial link between Nikolai Lebedev and that lake property you identified outside Chicago. We’re trying to get probable cause for a search warrant. Kyle thinks if we find those bodies on the property it will be enough to convince the U.S. Attorney’s Office to give you that immunity.”

“Do you think you can get it, probable cause?” She searched his eyes for a hint of optimism and was disappointed when she didn’t glimpse it.

“We’re close. If we’d known about that link ten years ago, when the FBI arrested Lebedev, they would have seized the property as part of his illegally obtained assets. Kyle’s working on an affidavit for the warrant, but now he has to convince a brand-new judge in Chicago who knows nothing about the case, that there are seven bodies somewhere on that property.”

Looking back to the day she’d been there, she still couldn’t believe there might actually be murder victims at the bottom of the lake. For the second time that morning, her stomach felt queasy.

“I’d better go.” Deke smacked his knees and stood. “I’ll keep you posted as much as I can.”

After he’d gone, Tracee came back and plopped onto the chair. She hooked her thumb behind her. “Deacon Gates is a heartbreaker. All that wavy blond hair and those pretty green eyes?” She put a hand over her heart. “Mama, stop me.”

Victoria mustered a brief smile. “He’s a catch, all right.”

“Something tells me there’s only one man for you.” Tracee sobered and gave her a knowing look. “It’s Deacon’s brother, Kyle. You have a connection with him. The last time he was here, I needed a paddle to wade through all the meaty, stewy undercurrents sloshing back and forth between you two. So, where and when did you first meet him?”

Victoria tapped her fingers on her desk, gazing fondly at the only person who’d been a real friend to her since she’d pulled up stakes and started working in New York. The decision to not flee again having been made, it was time to come clean. She’d done it with Kyle. It was time to do it with Tracee. “I have a confession to make.”

“I love confessions. Confess away.”

“My real name isn’t Victoria Kelly. It’s Viktoria—spelled with a K—Vladimirovna Petrova.”