Page 166 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“I did,” Aleks says.

“You?” Hargrove balks. His jaw is hanging open, dumbstruck and blindsided.

Rob stiffens next to me, white as a ghost. “Why on earth would you…”

Aleks rests his hand on Kennedy’s shoulder. “I’ve said before that enemies can become allies when the circumstances dictate. And in this case, they did. Your colleague here contacted me a few weeks ago.”

“Weeks?” Hargrove exclaims, his eyes bulging. “Kennedy, what the fuck is going on?”

“We’re not all in your damn pocket, Hargrove,” Kennedy says with a scowl. “We aren’t all willing to turn a blind eye to atrocities.”

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?” Rob cuts in, raising his voice above the crosstalk.

“We have testimony from dozens of women, Hargrove,” Kennedy sighs. “Though I use the term ‘women’ lightly. We both know that they’re just girls. Children, really.”

Hargrove flinches. “He’s somehow managed to hoodwink—”

“Don’t insult me,” Kennedy snaps. “It’s over, you son of a bitch. We have sworn statements from Sophie Gonzales, Lucy Carter, Lana Perego, Alana Petty—the list is repulsively endless. All their stories match the profile.”

“What profile?” Rob asks, eyes darting around the room. “Are you seriously accusing Hargrove of—”

“Exactly. Rob, talk some sense into this fuck,” Hargrove snaps, glaring at Kennedy. “He’s clearly been bought by the Russian bastard.”

“I cannot be bought,” Kennedy hisses. I can tell from the disgust in his face that he means it. He’s as straight-laced a cop as Rob is. He just wasn’t quite so blinded by emotion.

“Sophie Gonzales is my goddaughter!” Hargrove insists. “Just talk to her parents. She was a bridesmaid at my goddamn wedding!”

“Oh, I know,” Aleks says, stepping forward. “I saw the girl at the wedding. So young. So sad. I had Jennifer approach her after the ceremony. It’s strange, but she seemed to be under the impression she wasn’t allowed to leave or she’d be hurt. Do you happen to know anything about that, Donnie boy?”

Hargrove’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You… you took her…”

“We didn’t have to abduct anyone,” Jennifer chimes in. “She was more than willing to come with me. Her parents, as well. They’ve all been placed in Witness Protection now, so you won’t ever be able to find them again.”

“Once Sophie finally started talking,” Aleks continues, “Lucy Carter was convinced to share her story. From what I understand, it was very similar to Sophie’s. It was a snowball rolling downhill from there. One, after another, after another, after another.”

“You… you can’t be serious!” Rob splutters. “Donnie… he’s not… he’s not the one—”

“Rob,” Jennifer says, walking over to him, “listen to me. The tips that the Bureau received were from Hargrove. He was trying to set Aleks up. It was insurance. A way to ensure he would never get caught.”

“Don’t listen to her, Rob,” Hargrove fumes. “You know you can’t trust this bitch. She lied to you the entire time she knew you.”

Not a single person in the room misses the crackle of desperation in his voice.

Jennifer ignores him. “We have page after page filled with the stories of the girls he’s hurt. The damage he’s caused. His groomer plucked these girls from vulnerable, impoverished families and built trust with them. Then Hargrove had them delivered to his private residences so he could rape them. Repeatedly. Eventually, he would release them, but only after they’d been bent and broken into keeping their mouths shut forever. If anyone tried to speak up, he destroyed them and everyone they loved. No trace left behind.”

Kennedy stares on, watching everything and everyone with a keen eye. His men are cordoning off the area and demarcating a forensic barrier around Yulia’s corpse.

It feels strange to watch them treat her like some broken object on the floor. I’m still not over her death. The shocking, heartbreaking nature of it. So swift and brutal.

Even if everything that Jennifer and Aleks are claiming is true, what does it say about a man who can kill his mother in cold blood for simply believing the ruse that Hargrove concocted?

She may have betrayed her son, but it was a question of morality. She truly believed Aleks was guilty. We’d found the girl in his house—what we were supposed to think?

What wasIsupposed to think?

“Kennedy,” Hargrove says, turning to the detective imploringly, “this is… this is absurd. I am Donald Hargrove. I have… a reputation.”

“And you relied entirely too much on that,” Aleks says bitingly. “In a way, I’m glad you decided to come after me. I’m the only one who had the resources and the balls to fight back. A weaker man might have rolled over.”

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