Dead Ringer by Annie Solomon Read Free Book Online Page B

innocent days, Angelina had never used Ivory.
    Click. Another picture. "There he is," Jack said, and she caught her first glimpse of Victor Borian.
    Thinning light hair pushed back from a strong forehead revealed deep-set, magnetic eyes. He had a full mouth and high, Slavic cheekbones mat showed no sign of sagging even though he looked to be fifty. A brown suit with a vest completed the picture of a grim Russian intellectual, one familiar with using the ends to justify the means.
    She shivered. He didn't look like a man to bargain with.
    A new snapshot slid into place, a picture of Carol and her husband. She smiled at the camera, he gazed at her, and the expression on his face said he clearly adored her.
    That was the trap they would use to catch him. Love. The ultimate Achilles' heel.
    You know what that's like, party girl.
    She pushed the thought away and focused on what Jack and Finn were saying. That Victor Borian spoke several languages and did odd jobs for a variety of governments including the United States... under-the-table tasks they couldn't complete themselves. That he used those connections to gain inside knowledge that financed his empire, an empire that included ties to the Russian mafia and the heroin trade. That he lived in remote piaces with armed guards, including a Montana ranch.
    "Rumor has it that he had a falling out with Anton Ivanov, one of the most powerful Russian mob lords, which is why Borian's living here instead of overseas, where he has several homes," Finn said. "Since his wife's death, he's been a fixture at the ranch. Underground chatter and a variety of intelligence sources lead us to believe the plutonium is there."
    The information set her reeling. Carol's pictures showed a woman with understated, old-world grace. A member of the local charity board. Yet all along she'd been married to a gangster. "Did she know what Borian was up to?" Angelina asked.
    Jack nodded at Angelina and grinned at Finn. "I thought you said she couldn't put two and two together. That's a good question, Ms. Mercer."
    "Angelina." She flashed him her most dazzling smile. "And thank you."
    "You're entirely welcome." He smiled back, an expression that lasted a few moments too long... at least for the other man in the room.
    "Jack," Finn barked. "The briefing."
    Sheepishly, Jack tore himself away from staring at Angelina and scrambled for the next picture. "Sorry."
    Angelina smiled sweetly at Finn: men are so predictable, aren't they? Even big, strong special government agents.
    Finn scowled back and turned to look at the next photograph. "To answer your question, no, we have no indication that Carol Borian knew anything about her husband's activities. But she must have suspected."
    "Must have made for strange pillow talk."
    "Love does a lot of strange things. Combine it with a strong personality, like Borian's, and it can easily corrupt a weaker mind."
    She peered over at him. The light from the laptop projector lit his face, making his eyes appear colorless, like a wolf's. "Love corrupts. Is that your motto?"
    Jack cleared his throat in an obvious effort not to laugh. "Man, she's got your number, Carver."
    Finn ignored that. "All we know is that she stayed with him. That's tacit support if nothing else."
    "Maybe he lied to her and she believed him." . "And maybe she didn't want to know," Finn said bluntly. "Love is often blind."
    She shivered. Love had blinded her only once, and she'd paid for it. Had Carol?
    Before she could pursue the question, Jack hit the keyboard and another photo appeared. "That's Borian's ranch." He identified an elaborate stone, glass, and timber ranch house. "The property covers close to ten thousand acres in the foothills of Devil's Teeth." The next picture showed three mountain ridges, dark and forbidding. "As you can see here"-a new series of slides clicked into place-"the estate is virtually impenetrable, bordered by cliffs and mountains. There's a guarded gate in front."
    A slow chill