Razing Kayne (31 page)

Jess laughed. “Ignore them, especially
Trace
. He's a man-ho. He can't help himself; he's been that way since junior high.
Rafe too.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.” Trace leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Besides
I was faithfully married once, as you well know. Before the bitch cleaned out my bank
account and disappeared while I was stationed in A-stan. Oh yeah, and let’s not forget
the seven months pregnant part that she never bothered to tell me about, according
to the neighbors. I mean hey,
why would I want to know that my wife was pregnant?” Trace threw up his hands in exasperation
and let them fall to his sides.

Jess frowned sadly. “And you're so obviously over it.”

Trace gave her a serious look. “I wish someone could tell me they'd heard from her.
Just so I know she's safe. No questions
asked,
that she’s alive.” Trace looked away for a moment. “It would be so much easier to
hate her knowing she was alive and happy somewhere.”

Jess laid a hand on his arm. “I never heard from her after you guys moved away, Trace.
I don't know what happened to her.”

Thankfully, Rafe turned the topic to the incident with the Mercedes. Kayne gave them
a play-by-play, answered the standard questions: Had he noticed anyone following them,
had there been any suspicious incidents lately, was there anyone who might have issue
with them?

Kayne gave him a
get real
look. “You mean other than Cody, right?”

“We checked Johnson's place for the car first, though I don't think he'd take a chance
with Jess in the car, even if he was that stupid. Besides, when we knocked on the
door to talk to him he, uh...had company
.
We'd clearly interrupted. Apparently, he's not opposed to cougars.”

“She was hot.
For an old lady.”
Trace shuddered

Jess hopped up on the counter. “Why couldn't he have stayed in California?”

Kayne’s eyes snapped to hers. “California?”

She cocked her head. “Yeah, he studied at Oxnard for a semester or two before they
kicked him out.”

Kayne’s brow furrowed. “Oxnard.
When?”

Jess waved him off. “I don't know
,
right after Isabelle was born. He was back before the whole Meg–” Jess froze. Shit
she'd been about to talk about Megan in front of the guys. “You know, the night of
the accident, Cody was supposedly out with some ex-girlfriend he'd met while he was
there.” Jess bit her lower lip.

Holy fuck! Kayne’s mind began to race. “The Russian Community Center is in Oxnard,
but that's a huge area compared to Payson.” Still, could there be a tie somehow between
the two? Kayne did some quick mental math. Cody had attended and left college more
than a year before Gracie had been abducted, but had his ex-girlfriend known the people
in the car the night of the accident? Had Cody?

They made small talk. Kayne decided it was time to take that trip to Santa Barbara
and follow up on the new leads he had since the detective seemed to be getting nowhere.
The Russian Community Center kept working its way into conversation, and he didn't
think that was a coincidence. When he outlined his plans, the guys readily agreed
to hold down the fort at home.

Kayne wasn't surprised when the Sheriff's office advised they'd located the vehicle
abandoned on the Tonto Village fire control road. It came back stolen from a dealer
in Scottsdale. Of course, it had been sanitized.

“So, not that I'm complaining, but what are you guys doing out this late?” Kayne glanced
at Rafe then Trace.

Rafe ran a hand over his scraggly jaw. He shook his head. “
Baby-sitting
the boys from Alphabet-Soup land.”

“Feds?”
Kayne was surprised he hadn't heard something about them being in the area.

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, something big is about to go down in the area, hush-hush.
There's a joint task force camped out—ATF,   FBI,   DHS—you name it, they're here.
Hell, we've even got a sexy little French thing from InterPol running around, making
everyone’s life miserable. And they aren't telling us jack shit. We're all supposed
to just pretend they aren't here unless they
want us to stoop, fetch, or carry for them, while they go about their business of
hunting down some bad guy they’re expecting to show up any day now.”

Kayne chuckled. “So, tell us how you really feel about them being here.”

“You know, we may be a small town, but our officers know their shit. Several have
transferred in with big agency experience like me, and the hometown boys are just
as thoroughly trained. Hell some of us have even been through the academy at Quantico
.
This isn't our first rodeo, and I’m tired of them treating us like we’re incompetent
country-bumpkins who are in their way. Glory seeking bastards,” he grumbled.

“So what happens if one of us accidentally has a run-in with this terrorist—I’m assuming
it’s a terrorist of some sort to have garnered this much attention—without realizing
it?” Nick asked.

Trace shook his head. “I don't think they'd let one of us get within a country mile
of him. I'm telling you, the place is crawling with agents, and I agree with Rafe,
I'm done babysitting. I have better things to do.” 

“Such as what?”
Rafe scoffed.

“Damned if I know. Kayne said they're leaving for Santa Barbara on the first flight
out, so maybe Unka Trace will stay home and play Mr. Mom. You know corrupt and spoil
the kiddos. If I have to babysit, I might as well enjoy it.” Trace gave them an unrepentant
grin
.

Hell! Trace probably would corrupt his kids too, but Kayne sure would like an extra
set of eyes on them while he and Jess were gone. He hated the idea of letting the
kids out of his sight. The feeling that this was somehow tied to his past and that
his family was in danger had taken hold and wouldn’t let go.

***

Kayne had long ago removed his jacket and tie. He toed off his shoes and stripped,
leaving the pile of clothes where they fell. Stepping into the shower, he wrapped
his arms around Jess from behind. “I was so afraid I wouldn't be able to protect you,”
he admitted, squeezing her tight.

Jess turned in his arms. “But you did. You were amazing.”

He leaned in and kissed her. “I want you.” He nuzzled her ear. “I need you.”

She came willingly into his arms, the look in her eyes telling him how very much she
wanted him too.

Hours later, as he held her close and watched her
sleep,
he thanked all that was holy that she hadn’t been taken from him tonight.

THIRTY-FOUR

“Detective Figueroa, this is my wife Jessica.” Kayne shook the detective's hand when
he met them at the airport terminal. They'd flown from Payson to Phoenix and Phoenix
to Santa Barbara, arriving slightly after noon.

“We've met.
Nice to see you again.
Still wish it were under better circumstances.” He offered Jess his hand. “How do
you guys feel about Mexican food? There’s this great little place where they make
the tortillas fresh. I know Kayne likes it. It’s a cop favorite.”

“I love Mexican food,” Jess said.

“Then come on, kiddo, let’s get you fed.” Figueroa winked at Jess.

Jess asked about his family as they took their seats.

“Can you believe I'm gonna be a grandpa in a few short months? Hell, if I can get
these last few cases closed, I might be able to retire.”

Kayne was admittedly shocked by how affable the detective was being. He'd been a total
hard-ass for the last two years. No, that wasn't exactly true. They'd never gotten
along when Kayne worked for the department either. Yet Jess seemed to have won him
over with little effort.

Once they finished lunch, they headed to the department.

“What on earth do you have in here?” Kayne sat Jess's carry-on bag on the conference
room table. He'd been lugging the thing around all day and curiosity had finally gotten
the better of him.

“It's my copy of the case file.” Jess reached in and pulled two large folders out.
“From Jarred's accident.”

Figueroa sat heavily in a chair. “I'm still trying to get copies from various agencies.”

“I have it all right here.”  She patted the folder. “Everything that was written,
including firsthand accounts by personnel on scene, as well as the taped copes of
radio transmissions is in here. Well, CD's, but still, you get the point.”

“And you didn't feel like sharing them when I visited Payson?” Figueroa tossed her
an annoyed look.

“You were being an asshole and all but accusing Kayne of murder. I figured you wouldn't
settle for a copy of what I had, figuring I'd omit some key piece of evidence to screw
with you. So I let you work for it.” Jess shrugged unapologetically.

“Okay, I deserve that. You're right—Kayne has been my prime suspect because nothing
about the case ever added up unless he was involved. I'll buy that someone else killed
the kids.” He held his hand up when Kayne opened his mouth to protest. “I'm not seeking
a confession; we're just talking this out. It doesn't make sense for Oksana to kill
the kids and let someone else take the baby, then wait for you to get home to commit
suicide. Now, if you'd told me the maid we never found came in and caught Oksana in
the act and slipped out with the baby, and you came
home and lost it and shot Oksana out of grief, I'd totally buy that.”  He looked at
Kayne as if he expected him to suddenly agree
.
“Jesus Kayne, I don't know that I wouldn't have pulled the trigger if I were in that
situation.”

Kayne leaned over the table and looked the asshole in the eye. “And yet, I didn't.
So let’s get back to the facts.” Kayne should have known Figueroa would still be hunting
for some involvement from him.

An hour later, they'd made no progress, and Kayne and Figueroa were back to arguing
over who shot Oksana.

“Could she have left them alone?” Jess looked questioningly at Kayne. “Could she have
gone to a neighbor’s or the store and left them napping, only to come back to find
the older two had drowned themselves?”

Kayne slowly shook his head, his expression contemplative. “That still doesn't explain
what happened to Gracie or why Oksana killed herself.”

“Kayne, she had severe depression and anyone who knows you, even a little, would realize
those kids meant more to you than life itself. If she'd allowed something to happen
to them, by fault or neglect, she might have figured you'd never forgive her.”

Kayne’s eyes narrowed. “Of course those kids were my world, that's how it's supposed
to be, and I refuse to regret that! As far as forgiving her, I'd like to think I would
have, but I don't know. I just don't know. She never gave me a chance to find out.”

He was quiet for a moment,
then
said, “It's possible she left the kids with someone. God knows it wouldn't have been
the first time. We'd argued over her leaving the kids with virtual strangers before,
but she just didn't see the danger. Compared to Russia, Santa Barbara seemed safe
to Oksana. Hell, the Watt's district of Los Angeles would probably seem safer than
even Vyshgorod, where she’d attended boarding school.”

“Vyshgorod?”
Jess pulled one of the binders back in front of her. “That sounds like the same place
Ludmyla's parents were from.” She started turning pages in one of the two duplicate
binders she'd brought along. She'd collected everything there was to acquire on Jarred's
accident, from what he'd seen. Kayne's heart began to race, he did not believe in
coincidences.

Kayne grabbed the other folder and started searching for a name he’d seen on a report
earlier. “Trace
said,
when he talked to...” Kayne paused, flipping pages until he found what he was looking
for.
The autopsy report for Ludmyla Viktrovna Oleksevna.
“Viktor
Oleksy, that
Olesky told him they were from Vyshgorod and knew nothing about Gracie?” Kayne looked
at Jess expectantly.

“Who is Viktor Oleksy?” Figueroa’s expression was confused.

Kayne pointed to Ludmyla's name. “Ludmyla was her given name. Viktrovna is her patronymic
name, and Oleksevna is the surname, but it's also diminutized. So anyone who sees
her name knows she is Ludmyla, the daughter of Viktor Oleksy.”

Jess flipped to a different section in her binder, shaking her head. “No, according
to Trace’s report, his name was Konstantin Mechnikov.”

“Mechnikov?”
Figueroa’s face lit with interest, and he shuffled through a thick stack of papers.
“I interviewed a...
Myla
Mechnikov at the Russian Community Center the day after the incident.
She claimed Oksana hadn't been there that day. Yet when the other detective shared
his interview notes, another woman he'd talked
to
had seen Oksana there that morning. She'd had a job interview.” Figueroa looked up
from his notes.

“A job interview?
Are you sure?” Kayne’s expression clouded with doubt.

“I'm positive. It's one of the reasons I didn't buy your story of her depression.
I sent one of Oxnard’s Russian-speaking officers back to the center a few days later,
and he spoke with the daycare director, Petra Rakovna. She confirmed Oksana had interviewed
and accepted a job offer, an administrative position. Ms. Rakovna claimed Oksana had
been extremely happy about the job.”

Kayne leaned forward, his body vibrating with energy. “Were the kids with her when
she went to the interview?” Perhaps one of these women knew who she'd left them with.

Figueroa studied his notes for a long moment.
Flipped back and forth between several witness interview forms.
“I don't know.
Goddamn it
, Myla Mechnikov was our translator for all the interviews except for one. We caught
her on the way out, and she spoke English. Christ, we couldn't have been stupid enough
to miss something so obvious. Come on, we're taking a road trip.” Figueroa jumped
out of his seat.

Jess looked between them. “Where are we going?”

Kayne grabbed her hand, towing her along.
“To the Russian Community Center.”
Jesus, the investigators had had a suspect translating for them. God only knew what
had actually been said.

***

After a brief wait, they were shown into a conference room at the community center.
Several long minutes later, a tall, regal woman somewhere in her early fifties, if
Kayne had to guess, stepped into the room and greeted him with a warm friendly smile
and firm handshake.

“It's nice to finally meet you, Sasha. I'm Petra Rakovna.” The woman introduced herself
in Russian.

Ignoring the pet name, Kayne introduced everyone then asked, “I'm sorry, do you speak
English?”

Thankfully she did, though it was heavily accented. “Please be seated.” Petra motioned
to the chairs and took a seat across from them once they’d all found a chair. “I am
surprised by your visit, but glad. Ana spoke so highly of you, and often, that I had
hoped to one day meet you.”

Ana
. He'd given Oksana that pet name, had called her that until the day she died, and
then he'd buried it with her along with the too few tender memories he'd had of his
time with her. Kayne shook the thought away. They were here for only one reason. “You
told the officers she interviewed for a job the day she died.”

Petra nodded. “She was rather excited to get the job. She practically floated out
of here.”

Kayne shrugged helplessly. “I don't understand—why was she looking for work?”

She cocked her head. “May I speak freely?” She made the request in Russian, glancing
quickly from Figueroa to Jess then back to him.

“Yes, anything you have to say, please, and in English if you can. My wife” —he nodded
to Jess— “and my children may be in danger
.
I can't afford any secrets. We need the truth, whatever it is.”

Petra nodded her understanding. “We have so many women here who try and escape from
undesirable circumstances in the homeland, only to come here and face far worse, and
so we offer counseling. As I'm sure you know
,
Ana attended group counseling once a week. It's where I met her.”

No, he didn't know a damned thing about Oksana needing counseling, but Kayne said
nothing, afraid Petra would stop talking.

“For months, Ana would do nothing but sit and listen.
Never saying a word, silently crying as she listened to other people’s stories.
Then one day she told us hers.”

Figueroa leaned forward with interest, glancing at Kayne, then back to Petra, asking,
“And what was that story?”

“When she was fourteen, her father's worst enemy, a man of great power, kidnapped
her. This man held her hostage for weeks. While she was in captivity, she was raped.
Repeatedly.”

“Jesus,” Kayne hissed, leaning back in his chair. “She never said a goddamned thing
about it.”

She offered him a sympathetic look. “I'm sorry, I assumed you knew. It was a horrible
experience for her. Later, when she found out she was
pregnant,
her father forced her to have the baby. It was a boy.”  Petra paused and studied
Kayne. “I see by the look on your face you never knew this. Should I continue?”

Kayne cleared his throat. “Please.”

After another moment, she forged ahead. “She never knew what her father did with the
boy, but she often wondered if her father had killed him. I think it is why she had
such a difficult time with Niki. She once said it was difficult to be his mother,
that he reminded her too much of the one she lost.”

“God, I think I'm going to be sick.” Kayne shot from his chair to pace the room, ignoring
the look of concern from Jess. “What else?” he demanded after several moments.

“She spoke often of her 'Sasha'” Petra gave a watery laugh. “She always had a private
smile when she said that name. She once said you made a face whenever she used it,
so she used it often.” Petra paused and studied him for a moment. “She said you were
good to her.
That you were kind and gentle.
That you never gave up on her, even when she knew she deserved it; when sometimes
she wished you would have. She felt intimidated by you. You reminded her of someone
from her past, but she said that despite the blood you came from, you were such a
good man.”

Yes, Oksana had known he was the bastard son of a whore, but it had never seemed to
matter to her. She repeatedly told him it didn't matter who his father was, that he
wasn't that man.

He turned to Petra. “She never gave you any clue why she wouldn't have told me about
her past?”

Petra raised her palms questioningly. “Where would she have gone if you'd left her?
Her father had convinced her you'd get rid of her, if you discovered the truth about
the past. I know she changed her mind, because she'd told all of us in the support
group that she planned on telling you. She said her parents had visited and brought
her something to keep for them, something she wanted no part of. She said she had
to tell you about the past so that you'd understand the significance of the gift and
why you couldn't keep it.”

Kayne frowned in thought. “She never said a word. When was this?”

“Maybe a month before she died.” Petra shrugged. “I'm not sure. I could probably figure
a date out if it's important. I remember she came back the following week and told
us about the trip into the mountains. She was very happy. She said you…” Petra paused
and looked apologetically at Jess. “She said you'd been more affectionate. I assume
she meant intimate, since the trip.”