“We have a mutual problem.” I took a seat across from him, keenly aware that I couldn’t see his hands under the table. It didn’t matter that there was a camera recording every movement he made. I had no doubt Feliks would reach across the gap and strangle me if I gave him a reason to try.
“By mutual problem, you must be referring to Detective Anthony.” His lip twitched at my surprise. “Tell me, did you enjoy your meal? Vodka, piroshki, stroganoff … all outstanding, I’m sure. I understand the detective was planning to spring for dessert. He must be very fond of you. And yet, I admit, when I last inquired about your relationship with him, I was skeptical of your answer.”
“You asked why I was with him that day. I told you. It wasn’t a lie.” Not entirely.
“Does the good detective know about the young law student who’s been warming your bed?”
The breath punched out of me. Nick said Feliks had a long reach, but the only way he could have known about my relationship with Julian was if one of his goons had been tailing me. A shiver ran through me as I remembered Nick’s mention of my unlocked door.
Feliks’s leer fell over me like a hot, close breath. “I must admit to a certain … curiosity about you. Tell me, what is this mutual problem that warrants such a daring visit?”
“The police know about your website.”
His shrug was careless. “I have many websites.”
“They know about the women’s forum.” Feliks’s irises turned a violent shade of black. I wasn’t sure if I should feel terrified or victorious that I’d managed to surprise him.
“How did they come by the information?”
“One of their confidential informants found it.”
“His name?”
“I don’t know it.” Cam might be a criminal, but he was just a kid. I wouldn’t offer up a juvenile to be shredded by a monster. “All I know is that he traced the site back to one of your shell companies. A cybercrimes unit is already looking into it.”
“If you and Detective Anthony are so close, why are you telling me this?”
“Let’s just say, you and I both have good reasons to want to keep the police from finding that forum.”
Feliks arched an eyebrow. “Do tell, Ms. Donovan.”
“I’d rather not.”
His slight smile was cocky. “Perhaps I will leave the forum for Detective Anthony to find, if only to satisfy my own curiosity about you.”
“You won’t.”
“You seem very confident. What makes you so sure?”
“Because I know how Carl Westover died. And I know who has his body.”
His perfect stillness sent a chill through me. His grin turned hard. His restraints clanked as he lifted his hands to the table, moving slowly enough not to rattle the guards. Fingers laced, he leaned toward me and whispered, “You’re playing a very dangerous game, Ms. Donovan.”
“I found Carl Westover in a freezer in West Virginia,” I explained in a low voice. “Theresa told me everything before she disappeared with Carl … or at least, most of Carl. I have one very identifiable piece of him. I’ve hidden it where no one will find it. But in case anything happens to me or my family, I’ve left a letter explaining everything to the police. I propose a deal. You delete the forum—all of it—and I won’t put Carl’s torso in Theresa’s BMW, park it in front of your restaurant, and call the paparazzi.” I let the rest simmer in the subtext between us. The discovery of Carl Westover’s body would be the nail in the coffin at his trial. If the police could prove he murdered Carl for refusing to let the mob use the farm, it would blow Kat’s already shaky defense to pieces. Feliks’s only play was to take the entire forum down.
His shoulders shook with silent laughter. He scratched the scruff on his jaw. “Anything else?”
“That, and you and your people stay out of my house and away from my family.”
“I see no need to visit your home or your family; you haven’t given me a reason to.” The word yet hung unspoken. Strangely, I believed him. He was too arrogant to lie, and Feliks’s truths were a far more effective weapon. He cocked his head. “Is that all?”
I opened my file and slid Vero’s accounting exam across the table, pointing to the small letters I’d printed next to a blob of red crayon. “This is the handle of a user on your forum. I need to know this person’s real name and how to find them.”