The Cleaner (Born Bratva Book 4) by Suzanne Steele Read Free Book Online Page B

messages but it looks like there’s one saved message. The fact that the answering machine is still here tells me the local PD missed this little detail. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”
    This place is proving to have a wealth of potential evidence that detectives appear to have missed when they searched it after the murder. I’m not surprised. Since this would be considered a secondary location of interest in the case and not the primary crime scene, the search would have been delegated to some lowly uniformed cops.
    She presses the ‘Play’ button and we wait expectantly.
    “Hey, I’m here. Sorry. It’s really me, just ignore the answering machine. What’s up--”
    “I need your help, Karen. He’s going to kill me this time and no one believes me, no one will help me.”
    “It isn’t that no one believes you, they do. That isn’t why people are steering clear of this. Were you able to get the restraining order?”
    “I can’t get a judge to sign off on it. They’re all in his damned pocket.”
    “Listen, maybe you need to think about leaving the area. You can always get a job, someplace that has nothing to do with law enforcement. Just disappear.”
    “I shouldn’t have to move, damn it! And I wouldn’t have to if you people would help me!”
    “You know Linda and I wish we could help, but it’s just not that easy right now. I’m up for a promotion and--”
    “I’m so glad you’ve got your priorities straight, wouldn’t want to interfere with your career,” the caller says in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe I’m not the one who needs to disappear. Fuck it. You know what? Forget it, just forget I even asked. Just remember, what goes around, comes around.”
    The line goes dead with no clue of the caller’s identity. The machine beeps and announces that the message was saved a little over six months ago. The only reason we were even lucky enough to listen to the conversation is because Karen picked up the phone after the answering machine had picked up, so it recorded the whole conversation. If she saved it, she must have thought it was important. And if it was important to her, then it’s important to me.
    “Who the hell is so powerful that a judge wouldn’t sign off on a restraining order against them?” Natasha asks.
    “A cop, that’s who. You know how that shit works.”
    “Enough said. Let’s grab the answering machine, the lock box, and her computer. Sometimes people will write down what they won’t say. It’s the one time they open their soul and bleed. Pen and paper never lie. I’m pretty sure you found a goldmine today.”
    “Oh, really? Have you got a diary I should know about?”
    “I’ll never tell.”
    “I’ll find it. You aren’t supposed to be keeping secrets from me.”
    “Chill out, you have all the dirt on me.”
    “I am your dirt, baby.”
    “Yeah, you’re a dirty bastard, aren’t you?”
    “I’ll show you just how dirty I am later.”
    “I’m counting on it.”
    We continue to banter as we finish our search of the place and come away with an impressive amount of evidence to go through. As we speed through the streets of Louisville on our way back to the Glazov compound, Natasha breaks the silence.
    “It’ll be interesting to see what color of ink this woman bleeds with her innermost thoughts. We all bleed when we pour our heart out on paper. But no matter the color, there’s always an element of truth.”



Chapter Sixteen
    Cop Killer
    Things are working out quite well. Better than I expected, really. It takes time to set the stage for a killing. Much like a theater production, everything must be perfectly timed, perfectly prepared.
    My victim being in the proper state of mind is as important to me as the actual kill. In this case, I’m feeding off of her paranoia and self-doubt. Officer Linda Ramsey suspects that something’s wrong, she’s just not sure what it is. People really should listen to their gut more. Deep down, she knows