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“We can’t let that happen, Trevor!” Sam scowled. “There are too many vulnerable people there.”
“They’re still trying to keep a low profile, or we’d be dead.” Trevor ignored Sam’s gasp. He didn’t have time or energy to waste on polite conversation. “Look, Sam, Bratva leaders are smarter than the average thug, but brutal. They know killing federal agents and beautiful, small-town lawyers with national attention is bad for business. But if they lose too much money or influence, they’ll do both—or worse.” He wanted to comfort her, but they had to go.
He pulled out of the garage and turned the opposite direction of the ambulance. If someone was following the ambulance, they’d run straight into his vehicle, and they’d have a confrontation. If they were waiting on the street to follow the ambulance, they’d miss the two of them.
But either way, he needed a different vehicle soon. “If you’ve got electronics, power them down and take out the batteries.” Trevor put his work and personal cell phones into his cup holder. “Mine too, please.”
Sam dug in the backpack at her feet, pulling out her cell phone and two laptops. After removing the cell phone batteries, she turned over the laptops. “These take a screwdriver, I think.”
“I’m sure they do.” He had tools, but they were in the back, and he’d dropped his tool belt on the porch when he left for Deb’s Bakery. “Just power them off for now. We’ll stop in a few minutes.”
She opened hers. “What do we do now?”
“Survive.” He drove a circuitous route through the residential streets, head on a swivel. “Did you bring my other weapon?” After all his threat lectures, he hoped she wouldn’t have left the house unarmed.
“Yeah, it’s in my bag.” She put a hand over her heart. “I almost shot a firefighter when he grabbed my arm. Good thing Mickey knows me.”
He’d probably been so dazzled by Sam that he didn’t notice the gun. “You’re hard to forget.”
She snorted. “That’s not true for everyone.” Shaking her head, she picked up his laptop and held the power button down. “Where are we going?”
No matter what she thought, he’d never forgotten Sam, and he never would. “Away. Then we’ll figure it out.” He turned toward the highway a street before the road ended, then crossed it, weaving through the neighborhoods on the east side of town. He crossed the East Side Highway too, eventually pulling up at the gate of a private golf club. Entering the law enforcement only code, he drove through the luxury course and into the residential area.
“You can get into the Bitterroot Club? It’s fifty-thousand dollars just to apply for membership!” Sam’s brow wrinkled, her expression a study in disbelief.
Trevor laughed. He definitely couldn’t afford it, especially with so much of his cash sunk into a burning house. “It’s an emergency code for fire and law enforcement. Security will report it, but the sheriff is a little busy right now, and my boss will distract him. We’ll be gone before they can get here.”
They passed multi-million-dollar log homes on two-acre lots, driving to the end of an empty cul-de-sac, around a “construction area, stay out” sign, then bumped along a fire road. At the club’s back fence, he entered the code again, holding his breath until the gate opened. Security had cameras on the gate; they could have stopped him. But that would increase the risk to residents; management would want an intruder to leave and let the police track the culprit down later.
He drove the back roads of the Sapphire Mountains until they reached a farm road leading to the East Side Highway. They bumped over the dusty washboard surface and then turned north. “I’m taking a chance. They could have watchers set up on the highway, but I think their remaining forces were in Marcus, waiting to see if Koslov or Young came out on top. With Koslov dead and Young arrested, they’ll be scrambling to figure out the next steps.”
“Your boss got arrested?” Sam’s expression was incredulous. “Koslov’s dead? It’s all over?”
“It’s not over. Not even close. But Young is the reason I was here.” Trevor took a deep breath. He’d have to tell Sam more than he should—again. “We knew there were people in the Bureau under Koslov’s control. We suspected Young. It was chance that led Aviss—my real boss—and Geo Pappas from Copperline Security to Young’s family. The two of them rescued his wife and kids. Now we know why Young was cooperating.” If Young had reported the abduction, it could have saved all of them a lot of pain and trouble. But Young had probably been told his FBI boss was under Koslov’s thumb too, so Young didn’t know who he could trust. Aviss was new to her job, which had been created just to weed out the Bratva’s influence. Unlike Internal Affairs, her role wasn’t well known in the Agency. But that would change with Young’s apprehension.
“Koslov kidnapped his family?” Sam shook her head. “This keeps getting worse.”
“I keep telling you; these people are ruthless.” Young’s family would need counseling and medical care for a long time. “And in comparison, Koslov was nice. Many Bratva leaders would think nothing of putting captives to work in horrible conditions. They’re sheer evil.” That might be an old-fashioned term, but it fit.
She shivered. “I believed you. That’s not the issue. The problem is being forced into a no-win situation. I’m not rolling over under pressure, but I also can’t just walk away from my job. People depend on me. And not just for small-town law, but for family law, with children at risk. I have to show up.”
“You can’t do those families any good if you’re dead, Sam.” He had to get through to her. “Find another lawyer to take those cases. You can’t show your face in Marcus until we get this wrapped up.”
“But Koslov’s dead. His bosses would be stupid to keep trying in Marcus. We’ve made it clear that we’ll fire back.”
Trevor shook his head. She was too naïve. “They won’t want to lose their hold on Marcus City Bank, no matter what happened to Koslov. Having a respected, financially secure bank under their control is too valuable. And the town fighting back makes them look weak. A smart leader will back away until the furor dies down, then go back to using the bank as they did before. But they won’t have time. I’ve got almost enough evidence to bring regulators in, but not quite. I need your help because the local businesses trust you.”
She frowned at him. “You want my help, you help me. I can’t just turn over a case to another lawyer. I have to get approval for that, which means delays, and that’s another day a child is at risk.” She sighed. “Besides, every lawyer in town is up to their ears in pro bono cases. The drug addiction problem has created huge backlogs. No one can keep up. Every delay makes the pile teeter higher, like a giant Jenga game. But unlike the game, children will die when that tower falls.”
Trevor grimaced. Sam’s passionate defense made his heart ache. But he didn’t know how to keep her safe in Marcus or even when it would be safe to return. Getting an indictment on Sharlene Murphy might be enough for the Bratva to cut their losses. Or they might double down and turn the place into a war zone, leaving nothing but scorched earth and lots of casualties. With Koslov gone, it was hard to say who would come out as the new money man. Or if there’d even be a new money man; each leader might take the opportunity to bring their finances in house, reducing the risk of discovery and corruption.
Koslov’s influence had already been limited to the northwest; Marcus City Bank had been the key to widening his scope. But with him dead, his organization would fall apart. They’d never seen a hint of a true successor, although he’d been pressured to select one.
But what mattered was surviving the next few hours. Trevor drove just over the speed limit, carefully avoiding law enforcement attention, turning off the highway whenever possible. Before reaching Missoula, he left the highway, winding along the back roads and through the rural neighborhoods to the west. Eventually, he reached Interstate 90 and turned west.
“Where are we going?” Sam fiddled with the radio. “I thought Koslov’s headquarters were in Seattle.”
“I’m not going anywhere near Seattle or Koslov’s people.” Trevor wanted nothing more than to avoid them. “I’m trying to avoid being predictable.”
