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It might have been an empty promise, but Hardy might also prove to be useful to keep in my back pocket. He was a fairly powerful man, at least locally, and he was on the right side of the law. He seemed sincere in wanting to warn me that I might be in over my head working for Lev, even though he had no idea how far over I was.
I should have been happy to make such an alliance, since it was the first step forward in my stalled plan. But I wasn’t happy; I was torn up inside and couldn’t figure out why.
“Everything okay?” Lev stuck his head out on the balcony with a concerned look.
“Yeah, just catching up with Brooke.” The lie slipped out easily but left a bad taste in my mouth, especially as Lev smiled with relief as he went back inside, offering to make us some coffee.
Everything was far from okay, but the reason for this new distress wouldn’t solidify in my mind. I just had an uneasy feeling that clawed at my insides, but the source seemed to be coming at me from all directions, impossible to identify. I wasn’t making any firm decisions, but still felt like I was doing everything wrong.
With a long sigh, I went inside to drink some of the freshly brewed coffee I could smell as soon as I stepped foot into the apartment. Of course, I had an uneasy feeling. My life had been completely turned upside down, and I wasn’t making much progress to get it right. My patience was wearing thin, but I could do nothing but stay the course.
Which included returning Lev’s warm hug when I got back to the kitchen.
“You looked like you needed one,” he said, pulling away to hand me a steaming mug of coffee. “And this, too.”
“I did, thanks,” I said, settling down to pretend to study.
There was no way I’d see any of the words on the page with my guilt freshly raging from Lev’s kindness. Why couldn’t I learn something about him that would be useful to get me out of this marriage? Instead, he just kept revealing things that made me want to stay.
Chapter 25 - Lev
My brother and I pulled into the swanky neighborhood and stopped in front of one of the gated houses. Both of us peered past the wrought iron bars, up the brick drive, and took in the stately, pillared house.
“Pretty nice for a mere councilman,” Max said. “Family money?”
I snickered. “If he had family money to back him, he wouldn’t have stagnated in his career. I think he’s been taking kickbacks for some time, though, even before we arrived on the scene.”
“I take it we haven’t been invited around for afternoon tea?” he asked.
I picked up my brother to take him to the airport earlier, but decided I could use his help for this little detour. “He just needs to be reminded where his loyalties lay, in case he’s thinking of choosing the wrong side.”
I rolled down my window and reached out, pressing the call button on the gate until Hardy himself answered. It was an older model system, with no camera, and his tone shifted rapidly when he heard who it was.
The gate slowly slid open, and I pulled through. Before I had the emergency brake locked on the sloping drive, Hardy scurried onto his long front porch, wrapping his comically oversized cardigan around himself. He always managed to put on a certain amount of bluster when he wore his suits around town, and he had the minimum amount of charisma that all politicians needed to trick people into liking them. In his own front yard he looked much smaller, older, and his ruddy face was tight with worry.
“My goodness,” he said, forcing a cheerful tone. “I’d invite you in, but my wife is in her gardening clothes, and she’d never forgive me.”
I grabbed the bakery bag I picked up on our way over here and slid out of the car, not returning his false smile. Max got out and stood next to the car with his arms crossed, his eyes drilling holes into the sweating councilman.
“I wouldn’t dream of putting you on the wrong side of your wife,” I said, thrusting the bag at him. He clutched it automatically, his eyes widening with fear, as if I’d given him a bag of snakes. I laughed. “Open it.”
Swallowing convulsively, Hardy unfolded the top of the bag, his fingers shaking with every crinkle of the paper. He visibly relaxed when he saw what it was, then looked up at me with confusion.
“Bread rolls?” he asked.
I could almost feel Max rolling his eyes behind me, but I was pretty pleased with my little joke. “And fresh butter,” I said. “To remind you…”
Hardy groaned. “Mr. Volkov, there’s no need for this. You’ve come to my house uninvited to remind me which side my bread is buttered on?”
“I thought it was clever,” I said with a shrug. “And friendly.” I raised a brow to let him understand that my friendliness could run out at any given moment. He was skating on thin ice with me. “If another Russian organization is telling you they’re aligned with me, they’re lying to you and putting you in danger.”
This was cryptic enough not to give him unnecessary information, but if he showed any signs of understanding, I’dknow he was colluding with the people who had started messing with my bars. The man Max interrogated was Russian and had admitted to acting under orders, but he didn’t know who was at the top, only accepting money for a job. It wasn’t much to go on, and anyone could be at the helm. I was throwing out crumbs without a line in the vain hope to catch a fish if Hardy thought I knew more than I did.
He blinked several times, looking sincerely confused. Of course, politicians were as good as actors, but he assured me he had no idea what I was talking about. He didn’t slip up at all, and once again reiterated that he was under a lot of stress with the reelection campaign and missing my emails was an oversight.
Max had to get to the airport for his flight, so I nodded brusquely and left him standing there, clutching his cardigan in one hand and my gift in the other.
“What do you think?” Max asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
