Page 4 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
When I turned my eyes back to the men, they were all waiting for me to continue my story. “My boss had been sent an anonymous tip with evidence indicating the Federovs’ international cargo ships were carrying guns. He asked if I’d take the story and run with it.”
And run with it I had.
Sitting in my boss’s office, he’d handed over the anonymous file and I’d started flipping. Pictures. Memos. Nothing unexpected until I’d come upon a photo of Anton and nearly fallen out of my boss’s uncomfortable desk chair. Color me unhappy to realize that my two-time sexual partner from the previous summer was a criminal. I’d felt like a dunce and a slut for having had sex with him just because he’d been crazy hot.
Not that I’d known he was a criminal at the time. Regardless, I’d been so mad at myself for my extraordinarily bad taste in men that I’d immediately agreed to take on the story. That anger, coupled with the chance to take out one of the wealthiest criminal families on the West Coast, had motivated me to dig my claws in deep.
“So, you start dating this guy, what did you find?” Jess asked.
“Not much at first. Mostly I worked to find out who had sent the anonymous file to my boss. It turns out it came from one of the dock managers at the Federovs’ pier. He’d noticed some suspicious shipments. Weights coming in higher than was planned. Extra containers that weren’t documented on their manifests. We were able to collect enough evidence to prove that smuggling was occurring but not enough to directly tie it to the Federovs themselves.”
Everything my source and I had uncovered had just led to shell companies. I could have run with it, but in the end, the bad guys would have gotten away with their crimes. The port authority would have gotten a slap on the wrist and the Federovs would have been under a microscope, but eventually, they’d have been free to find a new way to keep bringing in guns.
The evidence from the pier hadn’t been enough for the ruthless takedown I’d craved.
Enter Anton.
He held the key to locking the door on the Federovs’ jail cell.
“Let me guess,” Jess said. “You used your fake relationship with Anton to get proof that he knew about the gun shipments.”
I nodded. “I found enough to incriminate him, his brother and his father.”
From everything I’d gathered, I’d deduced that almost every international cargo shipment over the last ten years had included at least one illegal container. Hundreds of thousands of banned weapons had been pouring into the country because of the Federovs. Viktor and his sons had pocketed hundreds of millions of dollars.
“Time for a break so I can work on her face,” Maisy announced. She started rifling through a rather large first-aid kit to find some antibiotic ointment and butterfly bandages.
“Does she need stitches?” Beau asked.
I’d been averting my eyes from Beau while retelling my story—mostly so I wouldn’t get flustered by my intense attraction and forget what I was talking about—but now that all I had to do was sit quietly, I let my eyes rake up and down his huge body again. I hoped that Maisy’s arms would obstruct his view of my blushing cheeks.
“No stitches,” Maisy said.
I looked into her eyes and saw her small grin. Her brother might have missed my blush but Maisy had not.
As she cleaned the gash in my lip, Silas took the initiative to continue telling my story. “Sabrina had been using a fake last name but somehow Anton figured out who she was. He came to her apartment this morning and beat the piss out of her. She was lucky and got away. Paid a guy to bring her straight here, so she doesn’t think the Federovs could have followed her.”
I shuddered. This morning felt like a lifetime ago. I’d been drinking my morning coffee, enjoying the feeling of a job well done. I’d sent my boss my story to publish in tomorrow’s paper and a huge file of evidence to my FBI contact. And the best feeling of all, I’d been done with Anton Federov.
At least that’s what I’d thought until my front door had burst open and an irate Anton had stormed in.
After three punches to my face, I’d fallen to my living room floor. He’d taken the opportunity to kick me in my ribs before coming down on top of me and wrapping his hands around my throat.
I’d squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting his monstrous face to be the last thing I saw in this world. When the pressure had left my throat and I’d no longer been able to feel his weight on me, I’d thought I had died.
At the sound of his unbuckling belt, my eyes had flown open. I’d summoned all my strength for one excruciating kick to his balls before scrambling up and sprinting out my broken front door. Rushing down the staircase to the back-alley exit, I’d twisted my ankle in the descent.
From there, I’d hurried to the corner CVS and begged the clerk to call me an Uber. It was another stroke of luck when the driver had been willing to take me the twelve hours to Montana in exchange for five thousand dollars under the table.
Thankfully, the kid had been short on money and needed the fare. I’d lied and given him a fake name before curling up in the back seat and making the long journey in almost complete silence. For twelve hours, all I’d thought about was how fortunate I was to still be alive. I’d done everything in my power not to picture Anton’s face looming over me as he’d nearly strangled me to death.
“Are you okay?” Felicity asked quietly.
I snapped out of my thoughts and sniffled, willing the tears not to fall. “I really hope he’s in jail,” I whispered.
“Me too.”
“Even if he is, they could still come after me.”
