Under the Skin Read Free Page B

out of Alexei tonight in exchange for their interlude. Not that he went for the information anymore, even if it had started that way. It had gotten far more personal than that, as he’d proven by forgetting to ask for any information before he left.
    Taking another sip, he tried to remember exactly how they’d gotten here. It had started five months earlier, in early October, when he’d gotten the call to check out what looked to be a fresh outbreak of gang violence in an area they’d thought was no longer disputed. He’d gone to the hospital where the victims were taken, thinking he’d find the usual black or Latino teenagers. Instead he’d found Alexei Boczar standing over the body of a tattooed Russian.
    Despite the warmth of the Indian summer afternoon that had led Patrick to strip off his sweatshirt and tie it around his waist, the Russian wore a dark topcoat over his crisply pleated trousers and supple black leather gloves on his hands. His dark hair was slicked back from a high forehead and hard, deeply carved features that could have been chiseled from granite for all the emotion they revealed. He might have been a businessman from one of the Polish firms along Milwaukee Avenue, except there was no reason for a legitimate businessman to have been involved in a gang shooting.
    “Detective Patrick Flaherty,” he said, flashing his CPD star. Even though he’d passed thirty, he still looked young enough to occasionally work undercover with the gang enforcement unit, making the identification a necessity, especially when he wasn’t dressed for desk work at Area 3 headquarters. “Did you see what happened?”
    The man’s steely gray eyes had raked over Patrick from head to heels and back again. His stolid expression didn’t change, but Patrick felt the gaze like a physical touch, sending a spark of awareness flickering along his nerves. He smothered it because he was in the middle of a murder investigation with gang connections, but it didn’t stop the churning in his gut. He’d met Alexei’s eyes instead, daring the man to make something of his age or his casual appearance. He hadn’t been on duty or he’d have been wearing a shirt and tie at least, but the captain had called him in anyway given his experience with the local gangs. The face of the man staring at him now was a new one, and he committed it to memory, determined to find out everything he could about the mysterious stranger.
    Shrugging his shoulders, the man spoke in a slow, heavily accented voice. “He was shot.”
    It was such a typical Alexei reaction, in hindsight. At the time, it had burned Patrick’s last nerve. “You think?” he snapped. “You want to tell me who did it?”
    “You are police, no?” Alexei asked in turn. “Is supposed to be you telling me.”
    “I’d be glad to,” Patrick replied, “as soon as you help me figure it out. Were you with him when he was shot?”
    “ Da ,” Alexei agreed with a nod of his head. His gaze swept over Patrick again, more slowly this time, and one corner of his lips twitched upward.
    Only the body on the stretcher between them kept Patrick from raising his voice and putting his hands on the infuriating Russian. Most of his mother’s lessons had long since worn off, but respect for the dead was one he hadn’t yet shaken. “Tell me what you saw of the shooter.” He hoped a more open-ended question would elicit more of a response. He should have known better.
    Again, the Russian shrugged. “Was car. Dark windows. Could not see inside.” His lips twitched again, and this time Patrick was sure he was laughing at him. “It all happened so fast.”
    Patrick rolled his eyes. “Your name and contact information so I can let you know when I find his murderer, since you’re obviously so concerned about helping us locate his killer.”
    “Alexei Boczar.” He stretched his arm over the gurney to offer his hand, still encased in the black leather glove. “Grisha would be pleased at