Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Detective Lara rejoins our conversation. “Her husband is a known Bratva boss. The Fernandezes have been at the top of Russia’s most wanted list for years. And although there are no bodies, the slash mark in Dr. Azores’s seat is enough to rule foul play.” She turns her eyes to mine. They’re brimming with remorse; however, it is hardly visible through the distrust clouding them. “You have to understand our suspicions. Your husband isn’t who he says he is.”
Before I can demand proof, Raya shoves her hand in Lara’s face, silencing me. “If you’re concerned about some torn fabric in a passenger’s seat, perhaps investigate the airline who places dangerous weapons in the hands of their travelers simply because they can afford a first-class ticket.” I wonder who Raya is here to defend when she says, “Furthermore, my client spent most of the flight in the washroom, entertaining a fellow passenger, as per your evidence.”
I choke on my spit when she nudges her head to the frame-by-frame footage that is timestamped incorrectly. It appears as if Maksim and I went into the washroom earlier than we did. Almost thirty minutes sooner.
With my silence making Detective Lara believe I am supporting Raya’s alibi claims, she gathers up the images before saying, “We will be in contact.”
“If you wish to waste your resources on a dead end, go ahead.” Raya’s tone is neither mocking nor angry. It is more unrepentant than arrogant. “But if you have time to waste, I suggest taking a moment to familiarize yourself with marital privilege laws.” I listen as eagerly as Lara and Ivan when my stupidity is unearthed for the world to see. “They render a witness immunity from giving information that may criminate their spouse. So even if Mrs. Ivanov can’t corroborate the statement Mr. Ivanov issued your department this morning, she is under no obligation to announce that.”
“So you’re insinuating he did it? Maksim Fernandez killed three men for her.” Ivan shoots daggers at me during the “for her” part of his reply. “Possibly more.” His glare intensifies along with the volume of his voice. “There is taking down the competition, and then there is this.”
“Perhaps you should start on client–attorney confidentiality clauses before pleading for a judge to ignore a spousal privilege that has been upheld in this country for hundreds of years,” Raya bites back, smiling vindictively. “You have my number. Use it before ever approaching either of my clients again.”
I’m so stunned by the turn of events that I’m guided out of the donut shop and into the back seat of Maksim’s SUV before I can sort through a single fact.
My husband is a suspected Russian gangster, and I was allegedly used as his alibi for each murder he is accused of.
That’s pretty much what the detectives were insinuating, right? I’m not jumbling things up. I’ve slept six-plus hours every night for a week. My head is the clearest it’s ever been.
Well, it was.
Now it is a clusterfuck of confusion.
The turmoil grows when Raya locks her eyes with Ano’s in the rearview mirror and snarls, “You were supposed to keep them away from her both during commute to and from the hospital and her shifts. How did you fuck this up so badly?”
Ano thrusts his hand at the windscreen. “Can you see two feet in front of you?”
“If you couldn’t see, you should have gotten out of your car! Maksim didn’t want her to find out this way.”
“I did get out. Still couldn’t see shit—”
Ano’s defense cuts off when I ask, “Didn’t want me to find out what? That he is a Russian gangster or that his last name isn’t Ivanov?” I can’t bring up the prospect of him killing people. I’m too stunned to let that fully sink in right now.
Raya and Ano hold each other’s gazes for several terrifying seconds before Raya breaks their stare down first with an honesty I’m not expecting. “Maksim hasn’t used the Fernandez name in years, not since his father left his family without two pennies to rub together, and a heap of debt. He legally operates under his mother’s maiden name.”
Her confession and Maksim’s obvious disdain of his father settles that debate in a heartbeat, but it doesn’t answer all my questions.
“And the rest?”
It only takes half a second for me to unearth the truth in her eyes.
Everything the detectives allege is true.
Maksim is a murderer, and I’m the lead witness in the case they’re attempting to build against him.
“Is that why he married me?” When Raya seeks Ano’s opinion on how to answer my question, I ask it again, louder this time. “Is that why he married me!”
The contrite glint that flares through her eyes has the truth smacking into me like a ton of bricks.
The nail indents I mended because I thought I had caused them.