Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

NATASHA

I was on my way to get a killer out of jail.

If the guy that was murdered hadn't deserved it, I would be a little more hesitant, but I'd snapped up this case without hesitation.

Did Alexander ‘Pike' Walters commit this murder? Well, maybe — maybe not. Either way — he was my client, and he would be a free man, or my name wasn't Natasha Petrova. There was no doubt in my mind that Pike was a killer. Perhaps he wasn't guilty of this one, but I'd seen his jacket. He was no boy scout.

The Morinrock Police Station wasn't much to look at. The whole town was a bit of a dive, but Dimitri had warned me. I sighed and angled the visor down so I could freshen my lipstick. The drive had been longer than I'd wanted, and my sister Veronica had insisted on coming along. I was exhausted. Bringing her wasn't something I'd planned, but I didn't blame her for wanting to escape the confines of our cousin Maxim's house and the intense security that came with it. Then, there was the suffocating intensity of our mother.

Veronica had leukemia as a child, and even now, everyone still treated her like a china doll. I included myself in that assessment. Naturally, she got her way when she asked me to bring her with me. A change of scenery might do her good. Besides, she wanted to reconnect with our cousin just as much as I did. Also, she would be helpful — there was no doubt about that. We didn't have much family, so when Maxim mentioned that Dimitri had recently gotten back in touch, we naturally wanted to get to know him.

Blotting my Chanel Satin lipstick, I examined the rest of my face with a critical eye. I looked tired. Scratch that. I was tired, but this would have to do. The fluorescent lights of the Morinrock Police Department buzzed faintly as I walked in. I drew more than a few curious stares from the officers. They were looks I was accustomed to, a mix of desire, interest, suspicion, and outright caution. I approached the front desk and flashed my ID.

"Natasha Petrova, attorney for Alexander ‘Pike' Walters. I believe you have him here for questioning."

The officer behind the desk, a burly man with a thick mustache, raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. He picked up the phone and muttered into the receiver. After a moment, he hung up and motioned for me to follow him.

"Come on then. If'n you're sure." He looked at me skeptically as if I might change my mind. "Hope you know what you're getting into." He hitched his belt up as he eye fucked me from the tips of my Louboutins to the hint of cleavage that I specifically allowed to be shown.Mama taught me that clothes and makeup could be weapons if used correctly. I hadn't found her to be wrong.

"Lead on." I didn't bother giving any assurances as to my legal training or my readiness to handle the man incarcerated. I'd learned long ago that I was wasting my breath. They didn't believe I could do the job even when I bothered to give my qualifications. Men typically took one look at a woman in the legal field and assumed that they were there as the secretary.

He led me down a long, dimly lit corridor to the interrogation rooms. The place smelled of stale coffee, sweat, and the scent of countless tense encounters. We stopped before a door, and the officer knocked on it, then gestured for me to enter.

Alexander ‘Pike' Walters sat at a small metal table, his hands cuffed tightly to the table before him. I had seen his mug shot from his time at Arizona State Prison when he'd been arrested for armed robbery.

His sharp and alert eyes flicked up as I walked in, narrowing. The corner of his mouth tipped up appreciatively. He looked rough around the edges, with dark circles under his eyes and a tense set to his jaw, but he had that indefinable something. Dangerous and smoking hot. Fortunately for me, I was used to these qualities in my work. The Bratva and jail seemed to breed hot, bad boys. I reminded my lady parts that I was not interested.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, suspicion coloring his tone. I didn't take offense because he wasn't expecting me.

Confused, the other officer looked between us as I closed the door and sat opposite Pike, laying my briefcase on the table. "Natasha Petrova," I said, offering a small, reassuring smile, but not my hand — for obvious reasons. "I'm your lawyer."

Pike turned that smirk toward the officer. "Lawyer." He jerked at the cuffs. That was my signal to get to work.

"Is he being charged? Why is my client cuffed?" I crossed my legs, letting the side slit fall open to showcase my spectacular legs, making sure to look bored. "Officer …?" I prompted, catching the officer fascinated by my legs. I aimed my iciest glare toward him. "Should I file a complaint that my client is being restrained unnecessarily?"

"Macmillan, and no, he's not being charged yet. We just had some questions. Friendly like." I raised an eyebrow. There were some glossy photos spread out on the table. Glossy, crime scene photos. I reached for them, but Officer Macmillan moved in quickly to gather them up. "Ah, Ms. Petrova, you don't need to see those," he said hurriedly.

"That's okay. If you're questioning my client about this crime, I'd like to see what you're showing him." Of course, I'd already hacked in and gotten the crime scene photos, so these weren't new to me. Officer Macmillan didn't need to know that, though. These were all games that needed to be played. If I didn't insist, I looked weak. That wouldn't do at all.

Pike's mouth was set in a hard line as he looked from me to the officer, who had collected all but one photo. It wasn't pretty. A man, naked, with an ‘X' carved into his forehead, eyes removed. I peered at the photo, spinning it towards me, pretending I'd never seen it before. After taking my time looking it over, I passed it on to the officer. I held out my hand for the rest of the photos. Flipping through the glossy pictures, I paused to look at a few and then stacked them up neatly, pushing them back over the table.

"Please uncuff my client if you aren't charging him." I made sure to keep my voice sweet when I asked. "Here's my card." I laid my embossed card on the grimy table. "All further requests need to come through me in the future."

Macmillan grumbled but reached over and uncuffed Pike. "Don't go anywhere." The bored glare Pike gave him was textbook.

As I brushed past the officer, he sneered, "Hope you know who you're representing. Don't get in over your head. The guy is a killer." I flashed my teeth at him in a smile.

"Thanks for the warning. Have a good day," pausing. I turned back and let my hair swing as I turned. "Be careful out there, officer," I said sweetly. His eyes had been on my ass but went wide, trying to figure out if I was being nice or threatening him. Walking down the hallway, I put an extra swing in my step and enjoyed the click of my heels on the linoleum. It was the small things.

When we got outside, Pike breathed deeply, looking up at the sky, and rubbed his wrists. I'm sure being locked up again wasn't on his to-do list. They hadn't charged him, so he would've been out without my help, but he looked as if he was still trying to shake it off. If you had been inside once, you didn't want to repeat it. Although, I was always surprised when I met someone who didn't seem to mind it so much.

"How'd you know I was here?" he finally asked after he'd settled himself.

"I was already on my way, but someone from your MC called my cousin when they picked you up, so I came straight here." Unlocking my car, I tossed my briefcase in the back. I guessed they drug Pike here in cuffs, so he didn't have a ride. The more humiliating it was, the better the cops liked it. If they didn't have a real suspect, then they'd satisfy themselves by harassing him. "Is there somewhere we can go where we can talk? I'm going to need some information from you if this is going to work. Somewhere with food, preferably."

I was tired from the drive to Arizona, but the case was already driving me forward. My mother and sister often complained that I was a workaholic, which was a lie. Mostly. However, I was hungry.

"Yeah, we can go to the diner." He squinted at me. "It's not fancy," he cautioned.

"I don't need fancy." Although I loved some designer shoes, I was just as comfortable in a dive bar or a diner as at a fashion show. I could hold my own anywhere.

The Odd Duck lived up to its name. It was a strange little diner that was as homey as it was eclectic. After the waitress had ordered an omelet for Pike and a burger for me, he finally indicated that I could begin. He'd asked the waitress, Daisy, to seat us in a back corner. We'd gotten a few looks as we'd walked in, but it was to be expected in such a small town.

"I'm sure you know I'm Dimitri's cousin." He gave a wave of his fork in between bites. "I try to get in some information about my qualifications right away," I began. I was self-conscious about this part. He looked up at me over his plate, his eyes so dark they could be black. "I graduated from Stanford Law School at the top of my class. I passed the bar on the first try and am a defense attorney exclusively. Normally, I work for Volkov Bratva, but Dimitri asked me for a favor, and I owe it to him. If you have questions, I'm happy to answer them." I liked to get these pesky things out of the way first. New clients always wanted to find out if I was qualified. I was more overqualified than anything.

He peered at me, cautious. "Is it confidential? What I tell you?"

"Give me a dollar." He squinted at me and then laid a crinkled dollar from his wallet on the table.

"I can pay you, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that." I wrinkled my nose. He didn't know my regular fee. I doubted he could pay it, but we didn't need to go into that. This whole thing was under the auspices of the Volkov umbrella, so there would be no billed fee. "It's unnecessary, but now we've moved past the favor, and you're a paying client. Yes, it's confidential. Everything you say stays between us." I tucked the dollar into my briefcase. I would have kept it confidential anyway, but symbols meant something important to a man like Pike. I thought I had the gist of the case and the evidence, but I wanted to hear it from him.

"I think my brother's alive," he said, shocking the absolute shit out of me.

I wasn't expecting that. I took a moment to process what Pike had just said, my hand hovering over my fries. "Your brother?" I repeated, my tone neutral as I picked up a french fry, dipping into some ketchup.

"Yeah, Eli," Pike said, his voice rough with emotion. "I know it sounds crazy, but with everything that's been happening, I can't shake the feeling that it's possible."

Eli Walters. The name was familiar from my research into Pike's history. The story was vague at best. Eli had only been five years old when he'd died after drowning in a pond that was located on the property of a foster placement. The coroner had identified minor injuries but had ruled the death to be an accident despite a young deputy on the scene protesting that there was more to the incident.I didn't remember any mention of Pike in the report, but I made a mental note to go back and see if anyone interviewed him.

"Alright," I said, setting my fork down and leaning forward. "I did my research about your basic background before I came. There was an identification, but I'll look into it further. You were nine? "

"Yeah. I was nine. I'd appreciate it if you'd see what you could find on the report." He looked like he wanted to vomit. "Look, I just don't know what to think about all this. I never saw the body. I didn't believe them when they said he was dead, but what the fuck did I know?" He pushed his plate toward the edge of the table. I was guessing about now that he wished he'd skipped this talk. "Just the eyes and the fact that Porter was found here. It's too much of a coincidence."

Pike nodded, took a deep breath, and continued. "Porter, the victim…" he said the word derisively. "He had a connection to Eli and me," he paused, looking at me carefully. "The police keep hauling me in because I knew Porter when I was younger. You know that already, I'm sure." I nodded in confirmation.

He was right; I already knew that, but I was curious about where he was going with this and if he would divulge what I thought he was going to. There were some complaints in some of the paperwork in the foster system about the Walters boys. Pike swallowed hard, his eyes darting away. He looked supremely uncomfortable. "The eyes being gouged out. Eli did that sometimes."

"He gouged out eyes?"

"When he was little."

"Ok." The little boy was dead, so I wouldn't make him out to be a villain if he was some messed up kid poking out the eyes of woodland creatures. "This makes you think that maybe your brother isn't dead?"

"It sounds crazy, right?"

I pushed away the pie, leaning back into the booth cushions, trying to figure out how to reply to him. It did sound crazy—completely crazy—and impossible.

"I can look into the coroner's report," I said carefully. "Let's just say that you're right. That Eli is alive. Why would he be dropping bodies in your town? It makes you look guilty."I had a lot of other questions to ask him, but I didn't think he could take them today. The guy looked done. I agreed about the coincidence, but to be honest, I liked Pike for the crime. This wild theory about the brother who might be alive and kicking sounded like an improbable fantasy.

"Dimitri mentioned something that struck true to me. If it is Eli." He turned those black eyes to me again. "That the body was a gift." A gift? What the hell did that mean?

"Well, we will explore that theory, but let's see what the coroner's report finds, okay? We'll need to talk more about your alibi at the time of the murder, too." His shoulders dipped. "I have some other questions, too, such as timeline stuff. We need to be somewhere we can lay all this out. Do you have time tomorrow?" I figured he needed a reprieve after the questioning at the station. He gave a grateful smile.

"Sure. We can meet in my office if that works for you. We'll have some quiet there."

As we finished our meal and made our way out of the diner, I couldn't shake the feeling that this would be a tough case. Pike didn't give me weird serial killer vibes, but that didn't mean he wasn't out for revenge against some pervs from the past. I watched his fabulous ass walk off into the 'Snake Pit' — catchy.