Chapter 4 - THE BROTHER MARIA THOUGHT SHE LOST
Carlos was not in Texas.
He was in Cook County Jail.
Maria learned that the next morning.
Arrested six weeks earlier for violating probation after a bar fight.
His listed address?
The same Lake Forest apartment.
Dmitri arranged for investigators to confirm his history.
Carlos had worked as a delivery driver.
Then private courier.
Then, for eleven months, for a subcontractor connected to Petrov Logistics.
Maria felt physically ill.
“You hired him?”
Alexei shook his head.
“The company has twelve thousand employees and contractors.”
“Did he know I worked here?”
“I don’t know.”
She did.
Carlos always found things out eventually.
Then his jail phone records revealed three calls to one number after his arrest.
The number belonged to Elena Markovic.
The executive house manager.
Maria stared.
“Elena knows my brother?”
Apparently.
Elena initially denied it.
Then admitted Carlos once dated her niece.
Years earlier.
Briefly.
She claimed they had not spoken in months.
Phone records said otherwise.
Eleven calls in four weeks.
Why?
Elena closed her eyes.
“He asked for money.”
“For what?”
“He said he knew something about Mr. Petrov.”
Alexei’s expression went cold.
“What?”
Elena swallowed.
“He said someone inside Petrov Logistics was using ghost employees.”
Dmitri leaned forward.
“Who?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
Carlos demanded $50,000 in exchange for documents.
Elena refused.
Why not report it?
“Because my niece was involved with him once. I didn’t want scandal.”
Another person protecting reputation until danger grew.
Then Carlos called from jail.
This time, Maria took the call.
“Tori?”
Her childhood nickname.
She closed her eyes.
“Carlos.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then:
“You shouldn’t be there.”
Maria’s heart accelerated.
“Where?”
“With Petrov.”
Alexei and Dmitri listened from across the room.
Carlos continued.
“Get Sophie out.”
“Why?”
“You don’t understand who you work for.”
Maria looked directly at Alexei.
“I understand enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
Then Carlos whispered:
“Viktor is alive.”
Alexei’s jaw tightened.
“How do you know?”
“He found me.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
Carlos had been driving deliveries when a man approached him with an old photograph.
Maria.
Young.
Holding baby Sophie.
Viktor knew Carlos was her brother.
He offered money.
Not to hurt Maria.
To help him gather information about Petrov’s estate.
Schedules.
Gate procedures.
Staff names.
Carlos accepted.
Of course he did.
“How much?” Maria asked.
“Twenty grand.”
She closed her eyes.
“Did you give him my employee login?”
“No.”
“Did you give him anything?”
“Your full name. Employee role. Some stuff I heard from Elena.”
Elena began crying.
Then Carlos said:
“I stopped helping him after I realized he was asking about Alexei’s food.”
Maria went cold.
“What food?”
“Allergies.”
There it was.
Carlos claimed he refused.
Then his car was searched.
Someone planted stolen prescription pills.
Probation violation followed.
He believed Viktor arranged it to remove him.
Could Carlos be lying to save himself?
Absolutely.
But then he said something only Maria could verify.
“Mom left you a red recipe book.”
She froze.
Their mother had.
Maria kept it in her apartment.
“What about it?”
“Open the back cover.”
After the call, security retrieved Maria’s belongings from her apartment.
The old red recipe book arrived two hours later.
Inside the back cover was a slit in the fabric.
Maria had never noticed.
She reached inside.
Pulled out a folded photograph.
Two men stood outside a warehouse.
One was Viktor Sokolov.
The other—
Maria’s father.
A man who had supposedly died when she was nine.
Written on the back:
May you like
PETROV FREIGHT — 1998.
Maria’s family had been connected to Alexei’s long before she ever took the housekeeping job.
