THIRTY-SEVEN
At the Payson Police station, they made their way through the back door and down the hall to Trace’s office. While the place was crawling with agents, none of them paid them a bit of attention.
Colt Tyler, the Chief of Police stepped into the room and took a seat. He crossed his ankle over his knee and stacked his hands over his abdomen, making himself quite comfortable before glaring at Trace. “The alphabet-crew are looking for your friend here. They’ve got some questions for him.”
“Did you tell them he was here?”
Chief Tyler grinned a feral grin. “You just paraded him through the building. If they haven’t figured out he’s here, that’s not our fault. So, what’s going on in here?”
Trace quickly explained as he set up the equipment to monitor and record phone conversations, and then Kayne made the call.
“Allo?” A groggy female voice answered.
“Lutcia, put Krysin on,” Kayne demanded.
“Kayne, is that you?” Oksana's mother asked. “I've begged Valentin to let me call you ever since we heard about Tasha. How is she?”
Kayne huffed out an impatient sigh. “She's been kidnapped, along with my wife. Where is Valentin?”
She let out a fearful cry. “Not again! How could this be? I don't…I don't know where Valentin is. He's...You know what he is. I don't know who he's seeing these days.”
“Who's The Wolf?”
She sucked in an audible breath. “Where did you hear that name?” she asked cautiously.
“He sent a message for Krysin. He says Krysin has something that belongs to him.”
“Then I am terribly sorry for your loss, Kayne. Valentin will never give Aleksandr Volkov what he wants.”
“Who the fuck is Aleksandr Volkov?” Kayne shouted. But even as he said the name, a voice whispered in his ear that he'd heard it before.
“Kaynan Aleksandr Volkavich, if you don't already know, you need to ask your mother that question.”
The implication hit him like a truck-load of bricks. Jesus God, he'd all but forgotten that name. Volkavich had been his surname as a young child, before he came to America. Kayne was vaguely aware of Trace's office filling with bodies, all wearing lanyards attached to various federal acronyms and listening intently between urgent whispers and gestures to each other. Kayne knew something was going on, but he could only focus on one fact.
“Are you saying this Aleksandr Volkov is my...my...biological father?” he sputtered. His mother had sworn she never knew who his father was. Just one more goddamn lie. The bitch! The motherfucking bitch!
“Yes,” Lutcia said after a long pause.
“Lutcia, I know Oksana is gone, but Tasha is alive. My wife is with her. They tried to take Tasha, but Jessica faced a gunman and demanded to go…” His voice broke, and he had to stop. “To protect her daughter. Your granddaughter. I can't lose them, Lutcia. I can't.”
“I can't live with these secrets anymore,” she murmured. “Valentin’s choices have taken everything that matters from me. And now from you. I will help however I can. I owe you that. I owe Oksana that. She loved you so much. So do I.”
“What does Volkov want?” Kayne felt, more than saw, the hovering agents lean in, even those wearing headphones.
“Stolen Russian artifacts, but it's not that simple. To help you I have to go to the beginning. I will try to be as quick as possible. There is little time.”
Lutcia told them an incredible tale of Krysin and Volkov growing up together. Both had been from affluent, political families. They had been the best of friends until the day they met the young orphan girl, Nina Babeshko, Kayne’s biological mother. Both Valentin Krysin and Aleksandr Volkov fell instantly in lust with her. All Nina had ever dreamed about was having a home and family. Security. Realizing both men were in love with her, or so she'd thought, she held out for who could offer her the most.
Aleksandr Volkov won.
While both men had claimed to love Nina, neither had any intention of marrying her. In fact both were already married, a fact they'd failed to tell Nina. Somehow, an infatuation had gotten out of hand, and it had turned into a fierce competition to best each other. It was no longer about Nina. Or friendship. It was about dominance and power.
“Aleksandr managed to convince your mother to sleep with him.”
Kayne snorted. “That shouldn't have been too difficult.”
“She wasn't like that, at least not then. She thought she'd found her happy-ever-after. He stole her innocence in more ways than one. When Nina discovered she was pregnant, she told Aleksandr, hoping he'd marry her. It was then she learned he was already married.
“Aleksandr forced her into one of his whore houses. Valentin looked for her, but Aleksandr moved her from place to place until he sold her to the man who took both of you to America. I didn't find out until after you were in America what Aleksandr had done.”
Kayne cringed inwardly. He'd had a horrible childhood, but it seemed it could have been worse. Thankfully, he'd found Ben and Luann Dobrescu. His real parents. He shook his head wondering where the fuck she was going with this. “What does any of this have to do with now?”
“One night, Aleksandr and Valentin got together under the pretense of making amends. They got drunk, and Aleksandr started bragging about where his family money had come from. Aleksandr's father had been a top adviser for Joseph Stalin. He'd been one of the men responsible for selling off many of the Romanov artifacts to finance Stalin's career. Little by little, his father had stolen artifacts, creating a nice cache for himself. Aleksandr let slip where he had that cache hidden. Not long after, Valentin and his men stole the treasure. Tens of millions of dollars’ worth of history, to punish Aleksandr for his treatment of Nina. And the war between the two truly began. It was all political at first, until Oksana was kidnapped. That was the longest two months of my life.”
Kayne reared back. Holy fuck! “You’re saying my biological father is the sick bastard who kidnapped and raped Oksana?” And Jess and Grace were with him. God, he was sure he was going to be sick.
Suddenly, memories of Oksana’s constant reminders that it didn’t matter who his father was flashed through Kayne’s mind, and it all clicked into place. She hadn’t been reassuring him his parentage didn’t matter; she’d been reminding herself. Kayne looked nothing like his mother, which meant he had to be the spitting image of his father. ‘You reminded her of someone from her past.’ Petra had said. Jesus God!
Kayne felt the room begin to shift, and suddenly Rafe was there shoving him down into a chair.
Lutcia continued on, oblivious. “He is an evil man. He recorded the rapes and sent it to Valentin. He wanted Valentin to know what he'd allowed to happen to his own daughter. Valentin took what was Aleksandr's, and Aleksandr swore he'd take everything that mattered to Valentin in return. He’s the one who ordered Nikolai and Natalia's murders, even though they were his grandchildren too.”
Kayne was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. “What happened to the baby? I know Oksana had it.”
“After I found out about Nikolai and Natalia, I asked Valentin. He told me he drowned the baby on the day it was born and sent its body back to its father.”
Oh, Jesus God, an innocent child's life had meant nothing to either of these sick motherfuckers.
“Why the fuck didn't Valentin just give him what he wanted?” Or better yet kill the fucker.
“Valentin does not negotiate. He does not show weakness. He does not allow himself to love, so that there is nothing for his enemy to use against him. That child was nothing but a pawn to him, just like Oksana, or your kids, or me.”
Someone held a yellow tablet in front of Kayne. He read the words out loud. “Where is this stuff? What is it?”
“I don't know where it is now. A lot of it you have. Or had.”
A dozen pair of eyes snapped to Kayne. He quickly shook his head. “Me? That's not possible.”
“Oksana knew. We gave you millions and millions of dollars in books, paintings, jewelry and other artifacts like the Faberge eggs and swords. Valentin called it a wedding present, but really it was a way to ensure Aleksandr never got his hands on it.”
Kayne’s head snapped back. “Whoa! Are you trying to tell me it’s all real? That the box of costume jewelry is real?”
“Yes. Do you know where they are? Valentin had men try and retrieve it after Oksana's death, but all of it was gone.”
Of course it had been gone. The moment he was free to go back into the apartment, he started boxing up everything that had been a reminder of Oksana. He'd intended to donate it, but his parents had demanded they take it and put it into storage, because they knew he'd want it later.
Kayne wearily scrubbed his face. “My daughters have been playing dress up with the jewelry for weeks.”
“Every stone in there is real. If you still have the puzzle box there is a false bottom and stuffed inside are blank bonds worth tens of millions of dollars.”
Kayne picked up a pen, ready to write on the note pad in front of him. “How do I contact Volkov?”
“I don't know. Your mother has been with him off and on for the past few years. Kayne, be prepared, even with you offering to give it all back, it won’t be enough. It’s not about the money anymore, it’s about power, and I don't think it's just Valentin he wants to destroy. I think Aleksandr won’t be happy until he destroys you, too.”
Kayne shoved a hand through his hair. “Why, me?”
“You were born.” She said the words simply, and somehow that made sense. “This all started with you.”
Great. Just fucking great. “Lutcia, I need you on the first plane out of Russia. I need you here in Arizona. I’ll make it happen. Just get to the airport and on the plane.”
“I'll never make it, Kayne. I signed my death warrant the moment I started talking to you. Please, find my granddaughter. Find that brave wife of yours, and don’t ever let her go. No one deserves a woman like that more than you.”
Kayne surged to his feet, sending the chair skidding backwards. “Lutcia, please, get out of there.”
There was a sudden urgency in Lutcia's voice, as if time had run out. “She loved you, Kayne. Oksana called me the day she died. She said she'd finally found her way into the sunlight because of you. She said she loved you,” Lutcia whispered.
Suddenly there was banging and shouting.
Gunfire erupted.
Lutcia screamed.
The line went dead.
Kayne chucked the receiver against the wall as hard as he could, threw back his head, and howled in rage as he sank to his knees.