Moving Target (17 page)

The building's cafeteria must have been nearby, because she caught a whiff of something like broccoli-cheese casserole.

Finally, they reached a conference room where two men were waiting.

Daniel accompanied her into the windowless conference room with its wooden oval table and chairs. The carpets looked dirty, the table worn, and the room had a musty odor.

The other Deputies stayed outside the door to the room. Ani pulled off her ball cap and her dark hair tumbled from beneath it to her shoulders.

She held the cap as one of the men stood, smiled, and approached her. "You must be Anistana King," he said as he extended his hand. "John Singleton, from the U.S. attorney's office. I'm prosecuting this case."

Ani wasn't sure what she thought of him, but the prosecutor had a firm grip when he shook her hand. His aftershave was light and spicy, and his dark hair cut short and professional-looking—like he'd just stepped out of a TV law show. He had brown eyes that reflected the intelligence and arrogance of a man who knew his job and knew he was good at it.

"What does AUSA stand for?" Ani couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Assistant United States attorney," Singleton said. He then reintroduced the FBI case agent, who also shook hands with Ani.

She vaguely remembered Special Agent Michaels from two years ago, a short period of time that was a blur in her mind after the murders and fire. He'd been the agent who'd debriefed her—to whom she told everything—before she'd been whisked away.

Ani settled into a chair the prosecutor pulled out for her. He seated her close to him at the long, dark conference table.

Daniel shook both men's hands then retreated and hitched his shoulder up against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

Singleton focused on Ani. She noticed his gaze went to the bruise down the side of her face before he looked directly at her.

"I want to let you know how much I appreciate and commiserate with what I understand you've been through over the last couple of days," he said as he adjusted a thick file folder in front of him.

Ani still had no idea what to say to this man, so she just nodded and clenched the ball cap in her fists.

"Before you go into the courtroom tomorrow," Singleton said as he gestured with his head to the FBI case agent, "Special Agent Michaels will be on the witness stand. He'll testify regarding evidence the FBI has garnered that corroborates your testimony.

"Other witnesses have been testifying up until this point," he continued. "The neighbors who helped you when you first got out of the house. Emergency personnel, as to what they saw when they arrived—you and your sister and the condition you were in when they reached you. Today the doctors are testifying about your and your sister's medical conditions when you were treated."

He paused and her stomach sickened, somehow knowing what was coming next. "Also the coroner will testify about your parents and what killed them—burns, what caliber bullet—"

Daniel cleared his throat and Ani held back tears. She hadn't even been able to attend her parents' or her sister's funerals.

"And about Jenn, too," she whispered. "The coroner will talk about how she died."

Singleton looked away from her and down at the file folder in front of him without answering. She frowned. Something felt off, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was.

When he looked up at her again, he gave her an all-business smile. "Your statement is what we need to pull all the pieces together."

Ani bit the inside of her cheek and nodded again.

"It's time to get started." Singleton opened the file folder. "I'll give you a general outline of how my questions will proceed, then I'll go into possible cross-examination by the defense. Don't get flustered. Focus on telling the truth as you know it.

Don't elaborate with your answers, but answer truthfully. And try to remember everything you can right now. I don't want any surprises in that courtroom."

The thought of having to look her family's killer in the face again made her so nauseated she couldn't speak. As much as she wanted to put him away, a rock-hard feeling of fear settled in her belly—she could still picture Dmitry Borenko's deadly ice-blue eyes and feel the horror as he shot her father and turned his gun on her. The memories alone caused her shoulder wound to ache and her burn scars to itch.

Singleton folded his hands on top of the open file folder. He looked up at Daniel then back to Ani. "After we're finished here, we'll arrange for you to walk through the courtroom and get a feel for it so that you'll be more comfortable with everything. How does that sound?"

"Fine," Ani managed to get out. "I'm ready."

But the churning in her stomach made her wonder if that was remotely close to the truth.

"I'm going to start by asking you some basic questions about yourself, so the jury can get to know you," Singleton continued. "Then, I'll ask you to explain the sequence of events leading up to your father's involvement with the defendant, your knowledge of the money-laundering, racketeering, wire fraud, and so forth. We'll finish with your family's murder."

Singleton didn't waste any time beginning her witness prep. After he asked questions about her past two years in WITSEC and prompted her on what to share with the court, he said, "Start from the beginning, Ms. King. Explain to the jury how you came to obtain the documents you read that relate to the defendant."

Ani's heart clenched and she thought she was going to be sick as her mind went back to the day she had discovered the damning information on her father's computer.

She took a deep breath before she started. "On August eighteenth, two years ago, I went to visit my mother and my sister, Jenn. She'd been home for the summer and was getting ready to return to San Francisco State University to work on her bachelor's degree in education. My mother, Jenn, and I spent some time gardening in the backyard in my parents'

Brooklyn home."

"Go on," Singleton said with an encouraging nod.

"I decided to take a break and check my e-mail on my father's computer." Ani started wringing the ball cap in her hands and Singleton glanced down and shook his head in the negative, telling her not to fidget by the look in his eyes.

She straightened her spine and forced herself to still her hands. "I was waiting for an important e-mail regarding a transaction for a priceless work of art the museum was interested in. The museum where I worked as a curator.

"My father, Henry King," she continued, "was away for a couple of days, but he had given me the password to his computer. He let me check my e-mail whenever I needed to when I was visiting."

Singleton leaned closer, his gaze never wavering from hers. "What did your father do for a living?"

"He was a security consultant." Instead of the pride she'd once felt for her father, cold betrayal washed through her. "He was elected to the city council in our district and served for three years before he was murdered."

"Don't use the word 'murdered,' Ani," Singleton said. "Defense will object to it as a question for the jury to decide."

Even though Borenko
was
a murdering bastard, Ani nodded.

Singleton's gaze was almost unnerving as he studied her. "Where was Mr. King the day you used his computer?"

"In Boston. He was scheduled to come home the following day."

"What happened when you logged on to Mr. King's computer?"

The cold wouldn't leave her body and goose bumps broke out on her arms. "Before I opened up the Web browser, I noticed my father's e-mail program was up and one of the e-mails was open."

"Did you make a habit of reading your father's e-mail?"

Ani shook her head. "Never. But just as I was about to log on to the Internet, a short sentence jumped out at me."

"And that sentence was . . .?"

Heat suffused her cheeks and she looked down at the cap in her hands before looking at Singleton. "It said . . ." She paused to clear her throat. " 'No fuckups this time, King.' "

His face was expressionless. "Continue, please."

"It was a short e-mail," she said. "The subject line was 'Blue Meadow Arrangement.' " She could picture that e-mail as if she had just viewed it. "The text read, 'Problem eliminated. Proceed with transaction and funds will be transferred as arranged.' " She fiddled with the cap. "It ended with that line about no fu—that line I just said. The whole thing sounded off to me, not quite right. And the implied threat, well, it scared me."

"What did you do then, Ms. King?"

"I was worried. I knew something had to be wrong. I began going through more of my father's e-mails." Just thinking about them made her entire body tense. What her father had become—how would she ever get over it? "Several of the e-mails referred to 'deals' and funds having been transferred. A few more said 'problem eliminated.' All were on different dates."

Singleton was the picture of professionalism as he asked the questions. "Was that all you read on your father's computer?"

"No." Ani shook her head. "I knew I was invading my father's privacy, but I felt compelled to look for any documents that might explain some of what I'd read in the e-mails. The whole thing made me feel like my father was into something deep and dangerous."

As cold and nauseated as she felt at that moment, she wasn't sure how she continued to speak. "When I went through one of his computer file folders, a document with the name Blue Meadow Project caught my eye because of the correlation to the heading on a few of the e-mails I'd read. The Blue Meadow Project had been a touchy subject, and my father had been on that zoning committee."

Ani brushed a lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "I just assumed that my father had been against it because changing the zoning would allow the area to be used commercially. A developer could tear down the existing apartment complex, displacing elderly residents. Despite protests, the commercial zoning won out."

The apartment buildings had been torn down several months before she'd read the document, and businesses in Blue Meadow had already begun to sprout. The businesses included a nightclub, a Russian restaurant, an arcade, and a coin-operated Laundromat. At that time there'd been a few other spaces left for more businesses.

"What information did the document contain?" Singleton prompted her again.

Ani's heart had begun to thump like it was going to burst through her chest just as it had when she had pored over the notes. "My father was extremely obsessive, and had always kept intricately detailed journals."

But that one . . . it had made her sick enough she'd wanted to throw up the moment she'd read it. How could he have done what he had? The man who'd fathered her, whom she had loved so much, had trusted implicitly . . . how could such a good man stoop to such horrible actions?

She took a deep breath. "The journal mentioned specific council members who were bought off in order to zone Blue Meadow as commercial so the Russian Mafia could build businesses they would use to launder funds. It specifically mentioned Dmitry Borenko and his 'family.' "

A dead weight lay in Ani's belly and her nausea grew. "My father had apparently documented all he'd been involved with.

Every meeting, every conversation, every e-mail, and every wire transfer, along with the corresponding bank accounts."

Tears bit at the back of her eyes. "It mentioned people who'd been 'eliminated,' who had stood in the Mafia's way. Names and the dates that these people were found murdered. They corresponded with the e-mails about elimination."

Ani was almost certain she was going to throw up. She remembered looking around her after reading the document, her eyes glazed as she stared at the finely appointed den. She'd thought about all the expensive things her father had been able to provide for his family and the beautiful house they had owned in Brooklyn. Not to mention the cruises, trips to Australia, Europe, and Asia.

Her father had been bought out by the Russian Mafia.

"What then, Ms. King?" Singleton asked, interrupting her tortured thoughts.

"When I couldn't take any more," Ani said, "I closed the document and sought out my mother and sister to tell them I didn't feel well and that I was going home."

It hadn't been far from the truth.

She hadn't been able to stop thinking about what she'd read. All the details had continued to churn over and over in her mind and she'd been unable to fight back tears. After tossing and turning most of the night, she'd come to the conclusion that she had to confront her father.

"The following evening," Ani finally continued, "after I left work at the museum, I went straight to my parents' home. I was going to use my own key to get in, but the door was unlocked. I didn't want to talk to my mother or sister until I'd confronted my father, so I went directly to my father's den.

"When I reached it, I stopped just outside the doorway because he had three guests in his office. Two men stood to either side of a man who was sitting in a chair between them.

"My father was seated behind his desk. They didn't seem to notice me and I was planning to leave the den until the men were gone.

"But Father called the seated man Dmitry, which caught my attention immediately because Dmitry was the one member of the Russian Mafia who was mentioned most frequently in the document I read.

"I was too stunned to move." Ani clenched her fists and her jaws. "They were there. The Mafia was there. Right in my family's home."

Singleton leaned forward. "Tell us about their conversation."

She squeezed the ball cap in her hands hard enough that her knuckles hurt. "Dmitry told my father the 'family' needed more help from him to take care of the mayor—that he had become a 'problem' for some other reason than the Blue Meadow project. He didn't specify. Dmitry said he needed my father to procure a visitor's pass to get someone inside City Hall. Someone to 'eliminate the problem.' The bastard had used the phrase in such a casual way, like he really enjoyed saying it."

The closer she came to the events that had destroyed her life, Ani's throat wanted to close off. "My father stood. 'I want out, Dmitry,' he said. Dmitry replied, 'Our family doesn't tolerate deserters, Henry.'