Page 50 of The Millionaire's Mechanic

Of course, that assumed the man had been aware she was there, perhaps had even put on a show for her because they had planned to use Georgia to draw him out in some way—making her an unwitting accomplice.

It was a possibility Powell had considered but discarded as soon as he identified the actual kidnappers and established there was no connection to Rainer’s mechanic.

“The one we traced is called Vasyl Kolesnik, a small-time Russian-born criminal of Ukrainian descent.”

Kolesnik wasn’t big in underground circles. He was a small-time hustler who was known to the police, but who had only been busted once after hijacking beer trucks in his early twenties. Since then, he’d stayed under the radar, although rumor connected him to several minor crimes. He was considered smart by the cops who knew him—but not above getting involved in something as stupid as kidnapping.

“He might be arrogant enough to think he can pull it off,” the lead detective had told Powell. “After all, he’s managed to avoid being arrested a second time—until now.”

Rainer told Georgia what little he knew about Kolesnik and showed her his picture.

She shook her head, but there was relief in her expression when she said. “I don’t know his face. Does Mr. Powell have any idea what he was doing at Elite?”

“I believe he was there to pick up a vehicle.”

Her nose scrunched up. “He’s a customer?”

“No. He was picking up a car for a far more dangerous criminal—Maxim Novikoff. Rumor has it Novikoff is a lieutenant in a Russian mob outfit run by a family back East—the Komarov’s. Novikoff does a lot of business on this coast for them, and he has the reputation of enjoying the finer things in life. He owns a few cars, including the Jaguar he sent Kolesnik to have serviced at your garage.”

Georgia’s hand clenched around her fork, her face going grew. “The Russian mob tried to kidnap you?”

He held up a hand. “No, I don’t think so.”

Her agitation remained. “But you said this man had mob connections.”

“Yes, but he’s on the periphery,” Rainer clarified. “Kolesnik does work for the mid-level guys of the Komarov outfit on occasion, but he’s not considered an insider. We’ve had FBI corroboration on that point. The agent Powell spoke to, Ethan Thomas, has connections inside that family. Thomas was able to confirm that Kolesnik wasn’t acting on official family orders. Most likely, this was a side hustle for him.”

Georgia scowled. “Kidnapping’s a pretty big swing for a side hustle.”

“True,” he conceded. “But my point is that he was probably doing this on his own. And it’s not his first get-rich quick scheme. Kolesnik’s name has come up in connection to some robberies—successful, but not noticeably big money makers. But this was a conspiracy of opportunity. It was my bad luck to attract their attention.”

“And you’re sure you trust the FBI’s opinion on this?”

“I do,” he said, mentioning how highly decorated the agent was, leaving out the fact there was a surprising personal connection.It’s a smaller world than anyone realizes.

Once, Powell had been directed to Agent Thomas, he realized he’d met the man before. Ethan had grown up and remained good friends with Mason, the auric team leader who’d supervised Rainer’s paramilitary training. That personal connection gave Rainer confidence in Thomas’ take on the matter.

“The agent believed, and I agree, that Kolesnik’s pulled in a few of his known associates once they learned I was a client at Elite. It’s entirely possible they saw me there one day and recognize my face from some interview.”

“Or they noticed how the salespeople and manager fawned all over you,” Georgia suggested, a tiny glint of anger breaking through her obvious concern. “That alone would have tagged you as someone with deep pockets.”

“Also a possibility,” he said, lips twitching at her indignation, which he suspected was directed at her boss in particular.

“Anyway, Powell thinks Kolesnik cooked up the scheme after seeing me, then he pulled in some of his buddies to carry it out. The security team is tracking all of his known associates now, but the consensus is that they won’t act on their own to make another attempt. Kolesnik was the brains, and he’s in jail.”

“Powell was able to connect him to the kidnapping?”

“Yeah. He got lucky. Kolesnik was caught by a traffic camera dumping the car—which my men had a partial plate on. With that, combined with their eyewitness reports and description of the car, they were able to compel a DNA sample.”

She frowned. “What did they compare it to?”

Rainer hesitated. “To samples taken after the fight—I hit him with one of your crowbars. It had enough blood on it to run the test.”

Her mouth was a round ‘O’.

“I don’t realize you hit him that hard.” She passed a hand over her eyes as if she could feel an echo of the head injury she’d sustained in that fight.

“It’s likely you won’t remember, given the blow to your head.” He leaned over to cover her hand with his. “That also makes you an unreliable witness.”

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