“I’ve called our attorney,” Evangeline said.
“You’re not under arrest,” the older gentleman said while Jeff stripped the gun from the holster and patted Timur down. He was thorough about it. “We need to detain you in order to ask you a few questions.”
“You brought an army to do that? If you’d phoned ahead, I would have met you at the police station,” Timur said. He sounded calm. Reasonable. As if he wasn’t in the least worried.
“I’m Detective Wayne.” The older man indicated one of the empty chairs at the largest table where he’d been sitting. “Please take a seat. I don’t think we need handcuffs, although I want Jeff to read you your rights, just so you’re aware anything you say can be used against you.”
“Why so many?” Timur asked.
“We thought your brother would be with you, and we expected some resistance,” Wayne admitted. “He usually comes for Evangeline.”
Ashe heard the lie in his voice and it took everything she had not to call him on it.
“Do you need to question him as well?” Timur asked. “We can call him and get him down here, or better yet, so you don’t taint Evangeline’s business, we could meet you at the police station. That would have been much more polite. You didn’t need to fuck with her or Ashe to ask me questions.”
Ashe couldn’t believe how calm he sounded. His heartbeat was pure steadiness. She could hear it. The detective’s heart beat far faster and harder than Timur’s.
“Ashe, can you get the door and lock it?” Evangeline asked. “I don’t want my customers to be afraid to walk into my bakery.” She glared at Wayne. “You and your men have lost your privileges. Sheesh. Whatever you think Timur’s done wasn’t worth ruining my business.”
“It’s a threat, Evangeline,” Timur said. “Scare tactics. If I don’t cooperate, you lose everything. Isn’t that the way this works?” He directed his query to the detective.
Ashe hadn’t thought of that. It hadn’t occurred to her that Evangeline’s business might be hurt by the police officer’s actions. It was no wonder Timur had come at the end of the business hours. He’d made certain to drag the wait out until Evangeline could close her doors and most of her customers would never witness the police questioning Timur so publicly.
“Of course not,” Wayne denied.
Jeff read Timur his rights, and then asked Timur if he understood them.
“Do you know Emilio Bassini?” Wayne asked.
Ashe didn’t know the man, but she recognized the name. Before, when she’d researched for the stories she wanted to write, she’d studied as many of the reputed crime bosses as possible. Emilio Bassini’s name had come up often.
“Yes, of course. He comes here to the bakery, and sometimes my family does business with him,” Timur said readily.
Ashe winced. Her inclination was to tell him not to say a word until the attorney was present. Evangeline seemed to have him on speed dial. There was a reason for that.
“What is the nature of your business with him?”
Timur shrugged. “You’d have to ask Fyodor.” He leaned back in the chair, sprawling his legs casually in front of him. He looked deceptively lazy—a leopard pretending to doze, but in reality, ready to kill. “It has something to do with one of the tire shops, I think.”
Ashe leaned against the counter, but Evangeline tugged at her arm and indicated the few remaining pastries. Together they began putting everything away. Evangeline baked fresh every morning so the last of the baked goods were put in a bag to take to the shelter. Ashe began cleaning their espresso machine while Evangeline wiped the display cases down. She caught up the remaining pot of coffee and whisked it into the kitchen to pour the contents down the drain, glaring at Jeff when he tried to get another cup.
Timur answered the questions Wayne put to him in vague terms. When the Arnotto lawyer showed up, he asked a lot of his own questions. He seemed to know all about the business between the Amurov family and Bassini. Ashe tried to listen in on everything, but there didn’t seem a specific reason for the questions. As far as she could tell, Emilio Bassini was in the best of health and whatever business the Amurov family had done with him seemed to be legitimate and aboveboard.
“I don’t get it,” Ashe whispered to Evangeline as she rinsed dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “Why the big show?”
“I think they’re after the books.”
“What books?”
“My books,” Evangeline said. “They can’t conceive that Fyodor runs legal businesses. He works as a manager for Siena Arnotto and her various businesses. They have subpoenaed the books of nearly all the businesses he runs, both for her and for our family. When they couldn’t find anything, they began going after the books for all the Amurov businesses. They didn’t find anything there either. This place was mine before I married Fyodor. I don’t think they believe it could have made so much money so fast without us doing something like money laundering or selling drugs, along with the pastries. Or maybe a few guns, I could hide them in the cannoli.”