Russian Mobster's Pregnant Mistress Read online

  “This is not a cult,” Jacob reminded Sasha. “Obviously my men still have confidence in my leadership.”

  Sasha sliced his hand through the air in an emphatic gesture of irritation. “That won’t last long if you continue to believe that a two percent increase in revenue is pointless!”

  Jacob shot to his feet. “You forget yourself, Sasha. You forget what I did to attain the position I now hold. You forget what I am capable of when backed into a corner.”

  “No. I forget nothing,” Sasha argued. “Perhaps what I find difficult to believe is that you are still capable of those things.”

  Jacob and Sasha were glaring at each other across the desk when there was another knock at the door of his warehouse office. He pursed his lips, feeling a surge of irrational irritation and anger. How dare Sasha question Jacob’s effectiveness or motives?

  “Enter!” Jacob snapped.

  Vasily pushed the door open. The big man started to speak, but shut his mouth when he realized he’d stepped into the middle of what was likely to be an ugly confrontation.

  “It is all right, Vasily,” Jacob told him quietly. “Tell me what you came to say.”

  “There is a rumor going around the FBI field office about Maggie Morrison,” Vasily said with more than a touch of eagerness in his voice.

  Even Sasha’s interest had been snagged by this promise of juicy information. He rolled his hand, gesturing that Vasily should continue. “Well?”

  “They say that the woman is carrying Jacob Dolohov’s child,” Vasily said with relish.

  The expression on Sasha’s face slid from incredulous to speculative. Jacob knew what this meant for Sasha, and he knew what it meant for him. For right now though, the only thing that mattered was getting Maggie away from the FBI’s influence.

  Chapter Nine

  “Remember how I told you I only know one word?” Maggie felt more than a little exhausted. How long had she been here? It was impossible to know since there was no clock in the interrogation room and they’d taken her phone.

  “This will go much easier for you if you just answer our questions and tell us what we want to know,” Forrester said irritably. “What is wrong with you? What kind of American citizen doesn’t want to help the FBI get rid of foreign terrorists?”

  “Terrorists?” Maggie snorted. “If the FBI considers the mafia to be terrorists, then why don’t they busy themselves trying to round up everyone who watched the Sopranos on television for the crime of contemplating and discussing the possibility of participating in terrorist activities?”

  “Jacob Dolohov is not an American citizen.”

  “Then have immigration deport him.” Maggie was really getting annoyed.

  Forrester shared a look over Maggie’s shoulder with Sparks. “He’s not here illegally. Yet.”

  “So you wait and I go home. Easy as pie.” Maggie yawned. “You know, a woman in my condition really shouldn’t be held like this. You’re violating my civil rights. If something happens to me or my baby I could sue the shit out of you.”

  “Again, you watch too much television,” Forrester said derisively.

  Maggie raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because I’m also a paralegal, you know?”

  The interrogation room was sterile with one table and three chairs. Forrester had been sitting, Sparks had been pacing. There was a window that was most likely made up of one way glass. The smoky black surface looked like an empty eye. It was disconcerting to think that there were very likely people out there staring at her.

  Inside the room the stark white walls were unrelentingly boring to look at. Maggie wanted out. She needed to pee. She was hungry. And she was just about ready to fall asleep there at the table.

  “I want to call my lawyer,” Maggie repeated. “If you ever want me to say anything, you’ll allow me to have my legal counsel present.”

  “We’re not charging you with any crimes,” Forrester reiterated for what felt like the millionth time.

  “I’m aware of that. If you don’t officially charge me, you don’t have to worry about me lawyering up. But that also means you expect me to give you information that will help in your investigation without going through the proper channels to get it. And I’m pretty sure your hour is up,” Maggie reminded Forrester. “So let me go, or charge me. Or I’m going to slap your FBI ass with a very ugly lawsuit.”

  The door of the interrogation room swung open so hard that it hit the wall and left a black mark. A man strode into the room. He was taller than Sparks and carried himself with an almost pompous sense of importance. Maggie figured this must be their boss. Great.

  “Ms. Morrison is correct,” he blustered. “We cannot hold her any longer.”

  “And you are?” Maggie prompted.

  “I’m Special Agent in Charge William Taggart.”

  “Nice to meet you. Now, I’m going to get up and walk out of here and none of you are going to stop me,” Maggie told them irritably.

  “Actually, you need to hear me out first.” Taggart’s entire demeanor dripped arrogance like cheap cologne.

  “So say something worth listening to,” she suggested.

  Taggart pressed his lips together in a way that told Maggie he was so irritated with her right now that he was having difficulty holding himself back. She was glad. She was pretty much that irritated with him right now too.

  “Ms. Morrison,” Taggart began. “I want you to consider the service your country needs you to perform right now.”

  “Oh seriously? You’re going to make me vomit and I’m not even having morning sickness symptoms right now,” Maggie told him sarcastically.

  “I’m serious,” Taggart continued. “Jacob Dolohov is a criminal. He is responsible for the torture and murder of hundreds of American citizens who wind up owing him money due to his illegal gambling operations and money lending schemes. In addition, he steals from the American government by importing and exporting goods without license to do so and without paying appropriate tariffs.”

  “So? The American government frequently steals from me. Every month in fact, when I get my paycheck I can see that the government has stolen social security payments from me that I’ll never see again.” At this point Maggie was just spewing whatever she could think of to piss off these agents determined to turn her into a tattletale. Finally Maggie made a frustrated noise. “Look! I don’t know anything. Seriously. Nothing! Why would Jacob Dolohov share details of his organization with someone he slept with a couple times? It’s not like we’re in a relationship.”

  “But you could get close enough to him to start one,” Taggart suggested. “That is what we want you to do.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “The FBI wants you to assist in our investigation. In exchange for your cooperation in our investigation, we will not charge you with aiding and abetting, conspiracy to commit fraud, or obstruction of justice.” Taggart said this last bit with relish as though he had scored a particularly lethal hit against her.

  “I haven’t done any of those things!” she protested. “Conspiracy to commit fraud? Seriously? When?” Now Maggie was getting angry. She gestured to Forrester and Sparks. “Is your sex life so bad together that the two of you talk about work when you’re doing it?”

  “Excuse me!” Forrester yelped. “That is none of your concern.”

  “And my sex life isn’t any of yours, but that hasn’t seemed to stop you from making wild speculations about what I’ve been doing in my spare time!” Maggie stood up. “I’m leaving here. Now. And no. I’m not going to spy on a man I don’t intend to see again!”

  “Then I officially charge you with obstruction of justice, Margaret Morrison,” Taggart said in his cool voice. “You’ll be remanded to the county jail where you will await a hearing on the charges.”

  “Excuse me?” Maggie said, aghast. “Obstruction of what?”

  “You’re interfering in our investigation.”

  “That’s not true!” she protested.

  T
aggart shrugged. “But we think it is.”

  “So unless I agree to spy on Jacob and report back to you, you’re going to throw me in jail?” Maggie couldn’t believe this was really happening.

  “And I’m going to personally recommend that you be denied bail as you’re a flight risk.” Taggart’s smile turned her stomach.

  Maggie took a deep breath. “Fine. You’re charging me? I want my lawyer.”

  Something dark and deadly flickered behind Taggart’s gaze, but in the end he only shrugged. “As you wish.”

  ***

  Jacob gave Maggie’s blonde friend a long assessing gaze. Her frank return surprised him. Under the circumstances he also found it a relief. He needed a strong player in Maggie’s corner that was situated in a way that would help her far more than Jacob could.

  “Courtney Delano, I presume?” Jacob gestured to a chair, offering her a seat in his office.

  She sat confidently, crossing her legs and leaning back into the cushions. “That’s right. And I must admit that it was far easier to get an appointment with you than I could have imagined.”

  “You might say that you have information I’m very interested in hearing.” Jacob was already growing tired of this verbal dance they were doing. “Can we cut to the chase?”

  “Please.” Courtney’s expression gave nothing away. Jacob realized that she was much, much more than she seemed.

  “You’re an attorney,” he guessed.

  “I am,” she agreed. “Maggie and I work together. She’s one of my paralegals.”

  “I bet you’re a stellar trial attorney.”

  One corner of her mouth twisted into something that was more sneer than smile. “You would be correct.”

  “Yet your specialty is family law and not criminal defense.”

  “At this point I’m going to hope that Maggie hasn’t done anything criminal that needs defending.” Courtney pressed her lips together into a thin line. “At this point she merely seems to be suffering from a disorder that includes sleeping with the wrong man.”

  “You don’t approve of our relationship?”

  “I don’t approve of any relationship that ends with a trip to the FBI field office, a nearly three hour hold, and then being charged with obstruction of justice and held without bail.” Courtney’s harsh tone brought the full reality of the situation home to Jacob.

  “What do you suggest?”

  “First of all, I’ve already filed a motion for false imprisonment. They have no proof.” Courtney grimaced. “Getting pregnant by a man does not make a woman an accessory to whatever other crimes he may commit.”

  “Have you spoken with her?” Jacob hoped he didn’t sound as anxious as he felt.

  “No.” Courtney exhaled long and slow. “They’re drawing out the processing and calling you a terrorist. That means Maggie’s case falls under the heading of homeland security.”

  “Shit.”

  “Exactly.” Nothing in Courtney’s voice, posture, or manner gave any hint of what she was thinking. “I’m hoping to talk to her. They have to have offered her a deal. I don’t know why she wouldn’t have just taken it in the interest of keeping herself out of jail long enough to outmaneuver these slimy bastards.” Courtney shot him a withering glare. “But I have a feeling it probably involved spying or somehow ratting on you.”

  “She’s loyal,” Jacob murmured.

  “Though I cannot imagine why as it’s put her in jail,” Courtney reminded him.

  Jacob set that guilt aside for the moment. “I don’t care how much it costs, I want her freed. I will foot whatever bills this incurs for either you or her, or any other attorneys that you find you need to hire in order to make this go away.”

  Courtney stood up. “That was what I was hoping to hear. I can donate my billable hours up to a certain point before my partners will begin to get tetchy about it. In addition, this is—as you pointed out—not my specialty. So I would like to call in a few friends. There are certain people in this city who are rather adept at picking up cases that relate to civil rights violations. It’s quite possible that the FBI will be eager to make this all go away if they’re threatened with that sort of media circus.”

  “Do it,” Jacob advised. “Whatever it takes.”

  “And if it takes serving you up on a platter?”

  “Is she truly carrying my child?” Jacob asked quietly. Of all the reports he’d had so far, Courtney’s was likely to be the most accurate.

  “Yes. She is halfway through her first trimester of pregnancy,” Courtney told him. “To my knowledge she hasn’t been with anyone but you in a very long time. Despite my encouragement otherwise.” Courtney seemed to be sizing him up. “I honestly don’t see the attraction, but it’s certainly there. She is completely stuck on you. Although she wasn’t certain if she would tell you about the baby or not.”

  “What? Why?” he demanded.

  Courtney raised an eyebrow. “You cannot be that obtuse.”

  “Why wouldn’t she want help?”

  “Because of this very situation.” Courtney grimaced. “This will be a repetitive pattern in any life that includes you, Jacob Dolohov. You are bad news. You’re a criminal. The government is altogether too interested in your activities both here and on foreign soil. That makes you a target, and by proxy anyone who is with you is an equally vulnerable target.”

  Jacob thought of the conversation he’d had earlier with Sasha. Perhaps he was coming to the end of this portion of his life. He was tired. Tired of the living his life always on the edge of disaster. It was barely tolerable when it involved only him. Now the mess he existed in had touched yet another person, this one dear to him for reasons he wasn’t yet ready to explore.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Courtney said tersely before exiting his office and letting the door slam closed behind her.

  Sasha emerged from the shadows in the corner of the dim warehouse space. “That woman is a truly fascinating specimen.”

  “If you think that she didn’t know you were hiding in here, think again,” Jacob told his friend. “Her gaze kept returning to your spot as if she was trying to decide whether or not to blow the whistle on your appearance.”

  “Even better,” Sasha murmured. “And are you comfortable with letting her handle things? She seems extremely capable.”

  “You’re biased.”

  “As are you.”

  Jacob really couldn’t argue with that. “Get Vasily and Peter. I think we need to formulate our own complimentary strategy.”

  Sasha’s sigh could only be described as annoyed. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Courtney, thank God!” Maggie slumped into the hard plastic chair and tried not to wilt. “I was afraid they weren’t going to let me see you today.”

  “Considering it’s a weekend, we’re pretty lucky they did.” Courtney’s voice was low, traveling no further than the two of them.

  The visitation room at the county jail was empty but for the two of them and an armed prison guard in his brown and green uniform. Maggie had the feeling big brother was watching them though. The amount of cameras in this place was staggering.

  “So.” Courtney’s gaze flicked to the cameras. “Keeping in mind that we are in no way alone, why don’t we discuss your case.”

  “I thought attorney client privilege existed in jail.” Maggie knew she sounded pouty, but she was tired.

  Courtney pulled out a black folio and opened it to a fresh sheet of paper. “At this point I’m just grateful they let me see you.”

  “That’s probably because I’ve been threatening to slap them with a lawsuit for harming my unborn child and destroying my health,” Maggie said through gritted teeth.

  “Good girl.”

  “They’ve had a doctor in to see me already.” Maggie wasn’t sure if that was good or bad though. “I think it might have been to double check the results of that pregnancy test for themselves though.”

  “Either way it’s a cover th
ine own ass move.” Courtney scribbled something on the paper. “What did they ask you to do that landed you in here?”

  Maggie knew from Courtney’s hushed whisper that she didn’t want Taggart and his lackeys to know what they were talking about. Courtney kept scribbling away as if Maggie had already told her everything she needed.

  Maggie tried to speak without moving her lips and kept her head tilted down away from the cameras. “They wanted me to spy on Jacob and agree to be their undercover plant until they were done putting him away.”

  “Damn.” Courtney added a few choice curses. “Can you change your mind?”

  “I’m not doing that!” Maggie struggled to keep her voice down.

  “I’m not saying you should, but we could at least get you out of here.” Courtney stopped writing and raised her tone. “I think there’s probably a way we can make a deal. You think about it and I’ll be back tomorrow for us to finalize our approach.”

  “What?” Maggie frowned. “I’m not…”

  “Yes. You are,” Courtney murmured. “I’ll talk to Jacob and see what we can come up with.”

  “Oh. You mean feed them something false.” Maggie had to admit that it was a good plan and one she hadn’t really thought of until now. “I think I could get them on board with that.”

  “We’re going to need to get you a good deal though,” Courtney warned. “Something that doesn’t allow them to come back at you. You cannot be held responsible for the viability of anything that Jacob might or might not tell you. Do you understand that?”

  “Yeah.” It suddenly occurred to Maggie that Courtney wasn’t actually a criminal defense attorney. “Uh, are you good with all of this? I know I’m sort of asking you to step out on a limb here.”

  “I called Ronnie Means,” Courtney admitted. “He and I have come up with a strategy. But I knew you had requested me and listed me as your attorney because I told you to.” Courtney gave a self-satisfied smirk. “Believe me, if Taggart takes this all the way to court he’s going to be completely surprised at what shows up in your corner. I have authorization for a full legal team if I need it.”