Clinch (The Underground Book 2) (17 page)

Leo left her to follow the cops to the door. “I’m sure Katie will be in touch if she finds out anything from her patients.”

Cooley nodded. “She okay? You can…”

Leo glanced at Katie, who was once again lowering herself into the chair as if her legs wouldn’t support her. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay. I know it’s a shock. She’s a huge asset to this area, and these people are important to her. They talk about her and what she does for them any time we pick them up.”

“I’m sure they do. She’s an amazing woman.” Leo knew that now more than ever. He also knew her parents were idiots of the highest order. Had they ever even been to visit her clinic? He hated to ask.

Leo walked Cooley and Tanner outside, and as soon as they got in their squad car, he pulled his phone from his pocket and shot his contact with the FBI a text.

Can’t talk now, but the cops were just here. Found a stash of dead homeless people. WTF?

He pocketed his phone and headed back inside.

He had no reason to believe the homeless people had anything to do with the FBI investigation. But it didn’t matter. His job was to inform the FBI every time something suspicious came up. And frankly, he was shocked by the number of things that had come up so far in just a few days. What the hell was going on? Perhaps his contact knew more than he’d insinuated. That would explain why he’d made an intentional effort to speak to Leo privately after months of coasting.

»»•««

Anton yanked his phone from his desk, annoyed with the constant barrage of phone calls. If the multitude of people he employed would do their damn jobs, he wouldn’t need to speak to them constantly. He wanted to get over to the lab today and see if his men had made any progress. So far, every trial sample they produced had proven ineffective—in other words, fatal.

“What?” he shouted into the phone at Boris.

“Lots of activity at that clinic this morning, Boss. And we aren’t the only ones watching.”

How astute of Boris. Anton didn’t think he and Erik had enough brain cells between the two of them to notice such a thing. Hell, their days were numbered. The only reason Anton kept them on the payroll was to throw the fighters off. These two morons couldn’t hide from a toddler, but hopefully their annoying presence kept Leo and his friends from noticing the other men on their tails. “Spit it out, Boris.”

“First some rich guy came by early. Looked like he had a fight with the doc in the waiting room. Then he left. Later the cops showed up.”

“The cops?” Anton wandered over to the window in his home office and stared out at the Chicago skyline. He hated the city. Smog covered the entire world most days, not allowing the sun to filter through to the madness that filled the streets below. So damn many people. He much preferred the outskirts of Vegas. Sun and desert.

But it couldn’t be helped. It had been a strategic move relocating the bulk of his operation to his Chicago lab. And after traveling back and forth from Vegas to Chicago for months, he’d finally gotten a high-rise apartment in the city.

“No idea what they were there for, but they showed some pictures to the doc, and she looked visibly distressed. Leo was there. He always is.”

Pictures? Interesting. “Listen, stay on that clinic. That bitch has something I want.”

“The doc? What does she have to do with anything? I thought this was about Leo.”

“It was until she started getting too cozy with my fighters and took blood samples.” Why was he explaining himself to Boris? He was rambling out loud.

“Blood samples? From who?”

“Dmitry and Mikhail for starters. Probably Leo too by now. Listen, it doesn’t matter. I need you to stay on that clinic. I want to know anything suspicious that happens. Anyone comes and goes from there, you let me know.”

“Every patient?”

“No, asshole. After hours. Or anyone who looks like they don’t belong.”

“Got it. You want us to stay here even when Leo and the doc leave? Don’t follow them?”

“That’s what I said.” He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.

“You got it.”

Anton ended the call and stared out the window. Dammit.

It would be so much easier if he still had control over his fighters. Abram Gromov was a huge thorn in his side. If only he could take that fucker out of the picture, perhaps his guys would come back into the fold.

But it was too messy. The last thing he needed was to draw more attention to himself. The feds were already breathing down his neck. He suspected they had more tabs on him than he could imagine. If his rival in the Chicago area turned up dead, it would only arouse suspicion and turn more heads toward Anton.

Nope. Unfortunately, offing Gromov wasn’t the best plan. Tempting, but too risky.

Leo glanced at Katie every few moments while he drove to his apartment. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, flexing his fingers over and over.

Katie was distressed. She hadn’t snapped out of it since the police came. The pictures of deceased homeless people were more than she could bear. Especially people she’d met, treated, spoken to. He couldn’t blame her.

In addition, she had to be concerned about the safety in the area. That could work in his favor when he lowered the boom that he was not going to be leaving her alone. Ever.

When they arrived at his apartment, he turned off the engine and faced her, taking her hand in his. “You okay?”

“No. Not really.” A tear escaped her eye again, and she brushed it with the back of her finger. “Who would do such a thing? Why? It’s not like they had money on them to rob or something.” Her voice rose, and she tugged her hand back to run it through her long hair.

“I don’t know, babe. Hopefully the police will figure it out soon.”

She sighed and glanced around, seeming to think of something to change the subject. “Cool car.”

He chuckled. “You have no idea what it is, do you?”

She flushed slightly and scrunched up her face. “Not a clue, but I can tell you love it and that it means something to you.”

“Yeah. It’s a 1984 Trans Am. I bought it from the father of a fighter I knew in Vegas for a song and fixed it up.” The truth was it was his most prized possession, and he’d sell off everything he owned and live out of it as a last resort any day.

She glanced out the window at the apartment building. “So this is where you live.”

He popped his seatbelt and got out to swing around to her side and open her door. “Yep. It’s not much.” Then he chuckled. “Well, compared to your place, I guess it’s a palace,” he teased, pulling her out by the hand, causing her to fly forward and land on his chest. He threaded his fingers in her hair, tipped her head back, and kissed her soundly.

She was breathless by the time he released her and led her toward the entrance, holding her hand. As he held the door open so she could cross under his arm, he continued, “Honestly, it’s more than we can afford. But we don’t trust that asshole we used to work for in Vegas, so we like to sleep somewhere we feel safe, especially now that we have Alena to consider.”

“Where was Alena before?”

“Russia. Abram found her and brought her over about a year ago.”

“Oh, wow. That must have been tough. How does she speak English so well?”

“Remember Lauren? Dmitry’s girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“The four of them lived together when they first moved to Chicago. It’s a long story, but Lauren was in hiding from Anton Yenin—”

Katie shook her head. “Who’s Anton Yenin?”

He pushed the button for the elevator and faced her again. Lord, he hated getting into this with her. But it needed to be done. She needed to understand what was going on in Leo’s personal life. “He was our manager in Vegas before we moved here and switched to Abram Gromov. Yenin is not a good guy. He’s with the Russian Mafia—the Bratva.”

“The guy who was after Lauren and Dmitry,” she stated.

“The very one. Anyway, he had been in jail for a number of reasons—not an uncommon occurrence when you’re with the Russian Mafia—and he was sort of dating Lauren before that. He was pissed when she broke things off with him. Had his guys kidnap her. Dmitry was
more
pissed and kidnapped her back. He moved here with her to escape Anton’s father, Grigory Yenin, who came from the New York area Mafia to help out while Anton was in jail. Mikhail came soon after when Abram got Alena out of Russia.”

“All right. I think I got about half of that. I remember Abram from the night Dmitry got kicked in the kidney. And he was at the fight Friday night too, right?”

“Yes.”

“How did Mikhail know Abram while he was still in Vegas?”

“We all knew Abram. He’s well known in the business. He travels to Vegas sometimes. It wasn’t a random coincidence that we came here. We moved to Chicago because we knew he could set up gigs, and we’d have work.”

She stared at him. “This is all insane.”

“I know. It’s a lot to take in.” The elevator pinged, and Leo led her inside, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms protectively around her middle.

She leaned against him and sighed.

Good. If he could at least provide her with some sense of security or take her mind off the stress of someone murdering homeless people, he would do anything.

“So, how long have you lived here?”

“I got this place when I came here a few weeks before I met you. It was the only unit available at the time and too large for me. When Dmitry left the country with Lauren, Alena and Mikhail moved in with me. At least it bought some time. We were afraid Yenin knew where they were living.”

She twisted her neck to look up at him. “You don’t think he knows now?”

Leo hesitated. How much did he want to divulge at once without freaking her out? By the end of the day, he needed to break it to her that she could no longer stay alone in her apartment. “I’m sure he does.” He was certain Anton’s men were on them. “He has two idiots watching us.”

She jumped out of his arms. “Why?”

“That’s the million-dollar question. Could be the money we make him. Could be revenge for Lauren. Could be a threat or a warning to keep us from doing anything to retaliate for the way he held Lauren captive. Could be something we aren’t thinking of.”

“Could be the weird blood work…” she added softly.

He stiffened. She was catching on quick. “And then there’s that. Though I don’t see how the hell there’s any correlation.” That part was a fact. Leo had spent hours thinking about that angle. His contact had too. And probably ten other FBI agents by now.

It couldn’t be a coincidence that Yenin brought over six seemingly random boys from all parts of Russia to train to fight and give a better life with no ulterior motive. He wasn’t an altruistic sort of guy.

But why, then?

No one could come up with an explanation for the weird blood samples. Perhaps it was simply the type of immunizations every orphanage in Russia used in the mid-eighties. Would they show up wonky on a blood test? Maybe there was a chance all Russians born in the eighties had funky blood that most people in the US would scratch their head over. He could dream.

They stepped off the elevator and turned to the left to get to Leo’s apartment. He unlocked the door, opened it, and then stepped back to let Katie in first.

He was surprised to see Ivan in the kitchen.

No. It was more than that. The man wasn’t simply in Leo’s apartment, he was cooking.

Alena sat on the counter to one side of the sink drinking a soda, and Ivan was stirring something over the stove. He turned around at the sound of the door and smiled.

The place smelled fantastic.
Solyanka
. Leo almost moaned as he closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and inhaled the scents of rich broth—cabbage, cucumbers, lemon… It had been a long time since he had a good hearty Russian soup. “Please tell me that’s sausage I smell and that you made enough for everyone.”

Ivan nodded. “Yep.”

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Leo said as he approached the large steaming pot and leaned over it to inhale closer. Heaven.

“Alena did most of it.”

She giggled. “Hardly. He wanted to learn. I sat right here and told him what to do.”

Katie wrapped her hand around Leo’s arm, lifted onto her tiptoes, and peered over the side. “What do you call it?”

“
Solyanka
,” Leo told her. “And it’s amazing. You’re in for a treat.”

“Can’t wait.” She turned toward Alena. “How’s your brother?”

“Better. We banned him from the kitchen. He’s lying on his bed surfing the channels and bitching.”

Leo took her hand and led her down the hall to Mikhail’s room. She was a doctor before all else. She would want to check on the patient first. Leo knocked on the door with the back of his knuckles.

“Come in.”

Indeed Mikhail was lying almost flat on the bed, his head propped up with several pillows and the remote aimed at the television. He hit mute as soon as they stepped inside.

“Wow. You look much better,” Katie said. She skirted around Leo and headed toward Mikhail. “May I?” she asked, her hands hovering over his ribs.

“Suit yourself.”

She prodded on him up and down the rib cage, her gaze on Mikhail’s face while her hands worked.

As far as Leo could tell, Mikhail didn’t even flinch. Either the bastard had taken a heavy painkiller, he was a masochist, or he had superhuman healing powers.

“Any pain?”

Mikhail shrugged. “Not much. I can tell where the breaks are, but it’s a lot better today than yesterday.”

“That makes no sense at all, you know.”

He shrugged again. “What can I say?” His wry smile went with his cocky attitude. “Would you please tell my sister I can get up and walk around now?”

Katie stepped back, her eyes wide as she lifted her hands, palms out. “Hey, you can do whatever activities you want as long as it doesn’t hurt. The bones fused at an unusual rate, so there isn’t much chance of splintering, but take it easy. You can’t go back to fighting for six weeks. At least.”

Mikhail chuckled. “Whatever.”

“I’m serious. Broken ribs need to heal. If you reinjure them, you could do serious damage.”