“FBI,” he replies.
“Griff is going to liaise,” Bebe says proudly. Her fiancé is a member of the FBI and works out of the Pittsburgh office.
“And do they have a game plan?” I’m anxious to get something going, even if I’m not directly involved.
“We do,” Griff says as he walks through the conference room door, a stack of folders in his hand.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he timed that entrance. Griff used to be deep undercover inside the Russian Mafia out of New York and his expertise regarding their inner workings will be invaluable.
Passing out the folders, Griff moves to sit beside Bebe. She tips her head back, and he gives her a kiss before taking his seat. Watching that brief exchange of sweet intimacy makes me think of Jess. It’s something I would do with her every single day of my life if I were so blessed.
I shake my head, push those thoughts far, far away, and open the folder. We all take a second to peruse the contents, which include Borovsky’s prison records with a list of known contacts to have visited or called him. Those people will be interviewed, but they’re most assuredly mafia and won’t talk.
“We have a team going through all the recorded phone calls with Borovsky for the last six months,” Griff explains. “You’ll see a list with photographs of known members of the syndicate in Miami, including informants we’re utilizing.”
“Are the informants providing any reliable information?”
Griff shakes his head, his eyes meeting mine. “Not yet, but it’s early. The key to finding Borovsky will most likely be through them.”
Griff takes us through the entire file. To my relief, Miami’s FBI office has allocated agents to watch over some of Jess’s closest friends in case the Russians think she’s hiding with them. That’s probably not going to happen, though, because what they do know is that Jess had a man with her who shot one of their guys.
“They went to Claire’s house,” Griff says, and my eyebrows shoot up. “We have agents staked out there and at Jess’s house, just in case. Three men—later matching up to the Russian family—watched the house all day and then broke in around two a.m., most likely to look for clues as to where Jess could be. They were arrested, but they’re refusing to talk and lawyered up right away.”
“But the DA’s office could loosen their lips with a plea deal, right?” I ask.
Griff shakes his head. “Probably not. They’re only charged with breaking and entering. None of the men have prior records, so if they ever get convicted down the road, they’re not looking at lengthy sentences.”
“In other words,” Kynan finishes for him, “their loyalties are to the Russian family they work for, and they’ll take the conviction and prison sentence before they’ll talk.”
“Christ,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my head, then to my aching jaw. It’s only then I realize I’ve been gritting my teeth.
Pushing up from my chair, I start to pace. “So, let me get this straight. We have no clue where Borovsky is, but he’s not really the one to worry about right now, anyway, as there are other Russians looking for Jess. Which means she can’t return home anytime soon. There’s no good way to find him other than hope an informant will get some information for us, which may never happen. In other words, we have no end in sight.”
“But at least Jess, Claire, and Thea are safe,” Bebe points out. “You got there in the nick of time.”
I nod in consideration of this. “And they’re here, safe in Pittsburgh, and the Russians don’t know that.”
Griff’s expression darkens. “Not necessarily. The Russians aren’t stupid, and they immediately moved to check outgoing flights.”
“With bribes,” Cage says distastefully. “Throw a few dollars around, and some low-level piece of shit will squawk.”
Griff nods. “Men went to the private hangar, asking questions and flashing pictures of Jess. Asked about her, Thea, and Claire, and about a ‘Black bodyguard’ is how they described you. They know you flew them to Pittsburgh.”
“Fuck,” I growl, moving back to my chair. I sit and look around the table. “Let’s assume they’re here. How are they going to find her?”
“By identifying you,” Kynan says. “But that’s not going to be easily done.”
“It is going to be easily done.” All eyes come to me. “I met him once… in passing. I was in Miami visiting, and I’d stopped by to see Jess and Thea on my way to the airport for my return flight. I was doing my PhD in California at the time. It was a quick introduction as I was walking out to the car and he was walking up. He knew about me, of course, as Jess had told him about other friends and family members. If he remembers that meeting in any way, all he has to do is google me for confirmation.”