“Come now. You’re a smart lady. Graduated top of your class. I’m certain you can figure this out.”
“Agents Stevens, either you tell me what this is about, or I’m leaving. I haven’t done anything to warrant DEA’s interest, so I don’t have to sit here and listen to you.”
“That may be so. But your boyfriend has.”
Shots fired! How the fuck did the DEA find out about Max and the Russian mob? Did someone blab? Or was Stevens phishing?
“Max?”
“Yes, Max Mikhailov. Your boyfriend and the owner of Mikhailov Imports and Exports.”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to, but I haven’t seen anything untoward. What exactly are you accusing Max of?”
“Whether you are aware of it or not, your boyfriend is smuggling drugs into the US from Russia. Large quantities of drugs.”
I feigned shock. Thank God for my persistent high school drama teacher.
“Drugs?”
“Yes, drugs.”
“That can’t be right. Are you sure? How do you know?”
“We’re the DEA, Miss Harris. We’re sure.”
“I don’t believe you. And, even if I did, what do you want with me? Why aren’t you talking to Max?”
“We intend to.”
“Oh, I see. Thought you’d get the pregnant little lady to roll over on the big, bad, Russian boyfriend, did you?”
“No. We were hoping you could have a chat with him and convince him to roll over on the big fish.”
I had to be very careful what I said from that point onward.
“Max has a lot to lose. I’m sure you can appreciate what it would be like for your child to grow up with a father in prison, Miss. Harris.”
Son of a bitch!
“Oh, I see. You’re referring to my situation with my biological father. Well played, Agent Stevens.”
I was seething, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d just scared the crap out of me.
“We’ve investigated everyone who works for Max. We haven’t singled you out. However, you seem to have more to lose than anyone else.”
“What do you want?” I glowered at the man across from me.
“Talk to Max. Tell him we’re ready to talk.”
Agent Stevens reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card.
“My number’s on the back.”
Then, without pomp and ceremony, he got up and left.
My hands were shaking as I picked up the card and stared at it.
Well, fuck me. The shit just got real!