Page 39 of Only for Him
Once upon a time, I found him attractive. Handsome even. But after a couple of dates and even a night together just to see how it felt, both of us came to the conclusion that we were better off as friends.
Because at the end of the day, Teddy is like all the other men in my life.
He’s toosafe.
He’ll never hurt me, even if I beg him to do it.
And that’s just not what I want.
“You gotta be fucking with me.” Russo groans. “This was supposed to make this caselesspersonal, notmore.I don’t?—”
“Captain Russo, my shared past with Detective Cantiano is purely professional,” Teddy explains evenly. “I’m here to offer FBI assistance and resources, nothing more.”
Russo grunts. He doesn’t believe it, and I don’t blame him.
But honestly, having Teddy hereisa nice reminder that there was a time before this case, and there will be a time after. And who knows. Maybe now that he’s here, all of this can just be a bad dream that I can wake up from in a few months.
But the moment that thought crosses my mind, memories of my stalker’s lips pressing against my neck and brushing at the edges of my ear return.Little viper.
An involuntary shiver runs through me.
No… I’ll always be able to hear his voice whispering seductively in the dark.
Teddy glances at me one more time before he rearranges his face and voice back into that of Special Agent Oborin.
“My office already briefed me on the basics. There’s a known pattern. All victims were either Russian Mafia or separated byone degree at most. All showed signs of pre-mortem torture, varied methodology but same calling card...”
Me.
I should feel sick to my stomach about that. But I don’t. Instead, all I feel is a buzzing of excitement.
“You got a theory for his end game?” Russo asks.
“I think he’s building to something. Or someone. Serial killers like this have an obsession that they’re working through. Whatever drives him has to be more than just Detective Cantiano. I have every reason to believe that she’s simply the conduit for his obsession and not the target.”
Oh, you have no idea.
“You said Russian Mafia.” Russo nods. “Any reason for that?”
“Nothing concrete, but the Bureau has been looking into an impressive amount of money, goods, and people flowing back and forth between New York and Moscow. A lot of intermediaries. A lot of players. Alotof businesses.”
“Businesses likeFaberge?” I ask.
“Exactly.” Teddy smiles. “Like I said, nothing concrete yet. Just the shadows of a trail connecting them.”
“Any names?” Russo presses, his voice taking on a sharper edge now.
“There’s been big shifts in the Russian Mafia in Moscow.” Teddy nods. “The old Solntsevskaya Bratva has been steadily losing ground on territory they used to control, especially in the Nekrasovka District of Moscow. Word on the street is that we’re finally getting a new player in the game.”
“Names, Oborin. Give me something to work with, for fuck’s sake.”
Teddy unlocks his phone and pushes it over to Russo, and all three of us bend down to look at the image of the man on the screen.
“Meet Timofey Starkov, pakhan of the Starkov Bratva,” Teddy says. “Came up when the Soviet Union collapsed, and tried to fight for dominance in Moscow only to be pushed out by bigger groups. He’s our primary suspect.”
I look down at Timofey’s face. It’s ugly in a brutish way, with rheumy eyes, liver spots, and a permanent scowl. He looks like a bottle a night kind of guy.
“According to our contacts in the Russian FSB,” Teddy continues. “Starkov and his sons started taking their Bratva international after they were squeezed out of Moscow during the First Chechen War. They rebased themselves in Chechnya during the Second Chechen War. Everywhere they went, death and destruction followed. Murderers for hire. Trafficking of everything and anything—drugs, guns, and girls. Even got himself a prison under his personal control to put away people he didn’t like. Real nasty work.”
