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“I already have a family,” I pointed out. “I have you, my nephews, and now Avgust and Samara are giving me more children to spend time with if I choose.” I leaned back as I took another sip of my liquor. “I have a big enough family without adding to it.”
“Fine,” he relented. “However, I’m still not wrong.”
Deciding to get back to more important issues, I asked, “What do we know about Mindy’s mother?”
“She works as a cashier at one of those dollar stores, and she seems to be a hard worker,” he answered. “Between them both, they can afford their bills, but luxuries are few and far between.”
“Have Bogdan do a thorough background check on her, then we’ll see about getting her a better paying job,” I instructed. “That will tell us if she’s with her husband because she loves him or if she just can’t afford to leave him.”
Akim gave me a quick nod. “I’ll see to it right away.”
“Also, have someone get in their home,” I added.
“For what?”
“I want to see what Mindy has in the way of clothing,” I explained. “Winter is already making an appearance, and I want to make sure that she has adequate clothing for the season.”
“If she doesn’t?”
“Then prepare Kurik, because he’s about to go on a shopping spree with a little girl,” I told him, making him laugh. “In fact, I want that house checked like we are CPS and doing a welfare check on the child.”
Akim let out another laugh. “Christ, Maksim. Kyle Michaelson must have really left an impression on you.”
“No, he did not,” I corrected. “Mindy Michaelson did.”
Children really were too pure for this world.
Chapter 6
Katja~
Luckily for me, Trevally’s was known for its dinner crowd than its lunch rush. Since I wasn’t a big three-course dinner kind of person, I made do with light dinners, though eating my fair share during lunch. If I needed energy, it was to get me through my day; I didn’t need energy to sleep.
At any rate, Trevally’s had a great club sandwich that was my usual go-to, and they had these seasoned fries that I’d stab someone in the eye for. Now, while I wasn’t sure what all was included in the recipe, I was still pretty sure that crack was somewhere in there because their fries were addicting as hell. If I could afford to eat here more than twice a month, I would.
Anyway, the plan had been to enjoy my lunch in peace, then get back to the office at a reasonable time to knock out the rest of my day. However, that plan quickly ended when a shadow slid over the table before a man that I’d never seen before took a seat across from me.
Now, objectively speaking, he was very easy on the eyes. He had dark brown hair and matching brown eyes, and though he had a beard, it wasn’t one of those nasty lumberjack beards. This one was neatly trimmed and looked clean; no danger of any critters making a home in it. His face had sharp features that gave him that chiseled look, and it all came together in a very appealing package. Nevertheless, his looks didn’t make up for his complete rudeness.
“Excuse me, but…what are you doing?” I asked, not afraid of being direct.
“Katja Volkov,” he said, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Thirty-three, works in technical support, is an only child…should I go on?”
Before I could ask him how he knew so much about me, he was sliding a small manilla envelope my way, and I didn’t even have to open it to know that it was probably a background check on me. I mean, how else would he know what he knew about me. No matter what, I was certain that I’d never seen this man before in my life. With as imposing as he was, I would have remembered.
Then he really shocked the hell out of me when he asked, “Did you get my flowers? A beautiful arrangement, no?”
Sitting up straight, my lunch forgotten, I asked, “Who are you?”
“My name is Klive Simpson-”
“You’re lying,” I said, interrupting him. “That is not your name. Your accent is clearly Russian.”
He gave me a sly smirk, almost as if he was impressed. “For the time being, you will call me Klive.”
“I’m not going to call you anything,” I practically spat. “I’m leaving-”
“What would your grandfather think of your bad manners, milaya devushka?” he asked mockingly, and that question immediately had dread slithering down my spine.
