Whirlwind

57

Fate, Texas

A rented blue Chevy sedan eased by the Faulk house unnoticed and parked a few doors away on Briscoe Street.

Pavel Gromov killed the motor.

Before taking any action, he studied the property through powerful binoculars. A small car was parked out front. The carport was empty. Next to it, Gromov saw a large tarp covering a vehicle.

There was no activity. All was quiet.

“I have a bad feeling about this place,” Yanna Petrova said after glancing around the neighborhood. Yanna was still contending with her situation with Gromov, which was becoming more surreal at every turn. Through his near-psychopathic actions he’d become a perversion of Virgil, taking her through the realms of hell. And as their circumstances grew more desperate, she feared she’d be implicated in his crimes and never return to Moscow or see her family again. “I have a very bad feeling about this place, Pavel.”

Gromov was silent.

Yanna had Lamont Faulk’s computer on her lap and continued searching it, relieved to be wearing latex gloves. Not only because they protected her fingerprints but because the laptop’s content was revolting. Faulk was beyond depraved. Still, Gromov had demanded she keep extracting information from it and make notes, because they were running out of time.

After Gromov’s beating of Lamont Faulk in his garage, they’d returned to their hotel where, at Gromov’s insistence, Yanna had mined Faulk’s computer into the night, finding addresses for the house in Fate, for Garza and DOA.

When they’d set out the following morning, they’d discovered the battery in their rented sedan had died. Service took several hours. They’d gone less than three miles when the repaired car broke down on a freeway, causing a number of problems. By the time Gromov could have the car towed, get through to the rental agency and be provided with another vehicle, a green Ford sedan, they’d lost the day.

Throughout it all, Gromov remained deceivingly calm.

For now, watching him examine the property, Yanna saw the veins in his neck and forearms pulsating, betraying the heart of a man who was seething under the surface.

“I believe my grandson is inside that house, Yanna.”

“What is it that convinces you? Did you see a baby inside?”

At that moment, emergency sirens shattered the tranquility as an ambulance, then a marked police car, sped to the house, followed by a second ambulance and two more police units.

“What’s going on?” Yanna asked.

For the next twenty minutes, sirens wailed as more than a dozen emergency vehicles converged on the property, indicating that a serious incident had taken place inside.

Yellow crime-scene tape was stretched around the house, police cars blocked the driveway where a sprinkling of neighbors, worry etched on their faces, gathered to watch. Soon, news trucks arrived, TV cameras and reporters emerging from within.

As events played out before them, Gromov turned to Yanna. “See what you can find out.”

Yanna went online and searched news sites and the address. “A local radio station is reporting a possible double homicide and a survivor at a residence belonging to the Faulk family on Briscoe Street.”

Gromov began thinking as Yanna came upon a fuller breaking story from a newspaper website.

“This one is newer-the report questions the possibility of a link to the double homicide at the Faulk home and- Oh no, Pavel-‘The recent homicide of Lamont Faulk at his garage in the Metroplex…’ HE’S DEAD! HE DIED! Gromov!”

Gromov blinked several times then calmly started the car. “They’ll be searching for his laptop and soon they’ll be canvassing this neighborhood.”

Without passing in front of the crime scene Gromov drove slowly down the street away from it. He stopped a block away in front of a house.

“Keep the laptop on and place it at the end of the driveway. If police are tracking it, it’s best they find it here near their crime scene.”

Yanna did as Gromov had instructed her to do. Then they drove out of the neighborhood the same way they’d entered: unnoticed.

Gromov exhaled slowly as he calculated where they needed to go next.