I clutched my seat belt as the car cut across three lanes of traffic. “I need you to speak with the person who runs the women’s forum.”
“And what makes you think I know the identity of this person?”
“Because the police are already sniffing around the website. According to my source, they think it belongs to Feliks Zhirov.”
Irina’s face gave away nothing, but her languorous pose became disconcertingly still. Her foot relaxed on the accelerator, and I pulled myself upright in my seat as the speedometer slowed to eighty. “By source, I assume you’re referring to your friend, Detective Anthony.”
“And others.” She was too smart to fall for a lie. But I could at least distribute the suspicion, and hopefully keep Nick from being the sole target of Feliks’s ire when word of the sting inevitably got back to him.
“Why should any of this concern me?”
“Because if the police dig deep enough, they’ll find my profile on that forum. The only way to make sure they don’t is to take the entire site down.” The implication hung heavy between us. Irina had paid me a lot of money to dispose of her horrible husband, and Feliks hadn’t yet gone to trial for it.
“How will speaking to Feliks change any of this?”
“So Feliks does run the site?”
“I don’t recall saying that.”
“You didn’t deny it.”
Irina stayed quiet for an uncomfortably long time as she weaved the Spider in and out of traffic. I squeezed my eyes closed, my shoulder slamming into the car door as she took an exit way too fast.
“If,” she finally said, “Feliks did run this forum—and I’m not suggesting he does—why would he be foolish enough to entertain such a request? A site like that is worth a great deal to his business. It would cost him more than you can imagine to take it down.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, “but an investigation into that forum will cost him a lot more than that. The last thing Feliks wants is the police digging around that site. And the last thing you and I need is for Feliks to figure out that I buried your husband and you let Feliks take the fall. If you tip him off that the police are investigating the forum, he’ll have to work fast to cover his tracks. Hopefully, he’ll shut the entire site down before he looks too closely at what he’s erasing.”
“Feliks is no fool,” Irina cautioned. “He will want to know how I came by this information.” She shook her head through a pause. “No, I cannot be the one to speak with him about this.”
I braced myself against the dash, only realizing where we were as the Spider came to a screeching halt in front of the dealership.
“Go home, Ms. Donovan,” she said, as Sasha and Alan rushed from the showroom.
“That’s it? But what about all that stuff you said at the health club a month ago? About women helping women and sticking together—”
“I said, go home,” she said firmly. Her voice dropped low as Sasha appeared beside the Spider and opened her door. “I’ll be in touch.” Irina smiled up at him, placing her hand on his arm as she stepped gracefully out of the driver’s seat and dropped the key in Alan’s waiting palm. Neither of them bothered to help me out of the car.
CHAPTER 26
I sat in my van in the parking lot of the dealership, my head against the steering wheel, fighting the lingering car sickness after my test-drive with Irina.
On the positive side, I had confirmed that the women’s forum belonged to Feliks.
On the downside, Irina’s refusal to help me hadn’t left me any better off.
Hazy winter sunlight beat through the windshield. Lifting my head, I checked the time on the dashboard clock, surprised to find it was already noon. I sighed as I considered my options: go home and scarf down a box of Oreos with Vero, or drive to Julian’s apartment and see if he was home. He’d been the one who suggested we talk today, and I couldn’t exactly call him since I hadn’t replaced my phone.
A death rattle reverberated through the van as I turned the key in the ignition. I headed toward Julian’s apartment complex before I could change my mind. My heart rate kicked up when I spotted his Jeep in the parking lot. Coat pulled tightly around me, I knocked on his door. A TV blared inside, the voice of a sports announcer leaking through the walls. I knocked again, louder this time. My breath rushed out of me in a white puff as the door swung open.
A young woman stood in the threshold wearing an oversized sweatshirt over leggings and a pair of fuzzy socks. The sounds of a football game roared out around her. More voices billowed from inside. The smell of pizza and garlic bread. The crackle of a beer can. A collective cheer as the announcer called a touchdown.