Free The Alibi Man by Tami Hoag

over, until finally the only sound that came out of him was a wild animal cry of pain.
    Alexi Kulak was well-known for his mastery over his emotions. Most people would have said he didn’t have any, but that was not true. In that moment he knew the kind of grief from which the only escape is death. In that moment he knew the kind of fury that could scorch the earth and everything on it. In that moment he knew the kind of hopelessness that crushed the spirit.
    Irina was dead. He knew it now. He felt the absence of her life force. The emptiness was like an anvil pressing down on him.
    His phone fell from his hand and bounced on the cracked pavement. He put his hands to his face, feeling the heat of his tears, and he dropped to his knees and slumped forward, heedless of the impeccably tailored suit he wore.
    What did it matter, a suit? It meant nothing. Nothing meant anything. Irina was gone, dead, murdered, her life torn from her and crushed. Her body was cast aside like the carcass of an animal, thrown into a filthy canal.
    What mattered now was that someone would have to pay for her death. He would find that person. He would find that person, and that person would suffer in every conceivable way until they begged and prayed for death.
    This Alexi Kulak promised, and all knew that Alexi Kulak was a man of his word.

chapter 11
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  THE CELL PHONE was encrusted with pink crystals. Very girlish, which surprised him. Irina had been in no other way a child. Old far beyond her years, he thought. Jaded in a way one didn’t expect. An old soul, some would say.
    He didn’t believe in souls.
    The ring tone the phone played when it was being called was classical, melancholy.
    The thing had been ringing all evening. He waited for several moments after the song had played, then opened the phone. The screen told him there was voice mail. He touched the call button and listened.
    There were three messages, all of them in Russian, all from the same man. The tone of the first message was casual. Tension crept into the second one. Tension and impatience. The third call was desperate, panicked.
    He saved the messages, then scrolled through the menu to
settings
and to
voice message
.
    â€œThis is Irina. Please leave message.”
    He hit the button again.
    â€œThis is Irina. Please leave message…. This is Irina. Please leave message…. This is Irina. Please leave message…. This is Irina. Please leave message….”

chapter 12
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  I HAD THE shower and the drink, but as exhausted as I was, I didn’t go to bed after Sean left. What would have been the point of it? I would have slept fitfully for a couple of hours, if I slept at all. I would have been up prowling the house at two in the morning, avoiding even making an effort to go back to sleep, because I knew that nightmares were lying in wait for me.
    A little wax to spike up the hair a bit. A pair of slim dark jeans, a simple black top, sexy sandals. Mascara, lip gloss, and a pair of diamond earrings. At least I looked presentable, even if I didn’t feel fit for public interaction.
    Landry’s car turned into the drive, and he parked and stood beside it for several moments, looking my way. I watched through the barely opened plantation shutters in my bedroom. Then he turned and went to Sean’s house.
    I waited for a couple of minutes, then left, driving at a crawl, hoping no one would hear me leave.
    Players was relatively tame on Monday nights. Everyone who had to have a job had to be at that job bright and early Tuesday morning. Hangovers were not a good idea for people who had to muck stalls and ride horses all day in the South Florida sun. Those who didn’t have to have jobs were free to do as they pleased, but with a shortage of twenty-something girls looking for a good time, the club didn’t hold the appeal it did on the weekend.
    The entertainment for the evening