A Beauty So Cursed by Beena Khan
Chapter 10
Miran returned to Sanctum in the morning.
Already inside the safehouse, he ordered the men to line up including the cops. He didn’t trust anyone anymore. It cost him before, and he didn’t want to repeat the same mistake.
Fifteen men lined up, shoulder to shoulder, in the room.
Lada had mentioned a leather scent. His smell sense wasn’t as heightened as hers, so he couldn’t base his arrest on that. She’d mentioned someone young. He crossed his arms over his chest and slowly walked across the line, studying and eyeing the jewelry the men wore.
He narrowed it down to three men.
He eyed the skull ring on one man’s finger.
The silver chain on the neck.
It wasn’t enough evidence though.
He needed more solid proof.
He motioned the young man forward with a wiggle of a finger.
“Show me the side of your neck.”
The man’s eyes widened before he collected his composure, and that’s when Miran realized.
It was him. The man who’d attacked Lada.
An innocent man wouldn’t have had this reaction.
“What’s your name?” Miran demanded.
“Chris Walker.”
“Show me your neck,” Miran said, raising his eyebrows.
“What for?” the man challenged.
“A woman was attacked here,” he replied after a second. “We’re looking for the culprit, which means we need to check every man here.”
He stared at the man carefully for any reaction.
“It wasn’t me.”
Miran’s jaw ticked. “I need to check.”
With hesitation, the man asked, “Which side?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Both.”
The man showed his right side first.
Clean.
Then, he showed his left side.
Miran caught the imprint of the chain on him.
The mark was lighter, but it was still red.
He was pretty sure this was the man, but he checked the other two men’s necks to make sure. No marks. Clean.
“You two can go,” he said, eyeing them.
Now, it was just him and Chris Walker.
He was a tall, young man, in his late twenties with a mop of light brown hair. As Miran examined him, light brown fearful eyes stared back at him.
“Why are you in this safehouse?” he began, starting easy.
“Witness protection. I spoke in an armed robbery. I’ve been here for two months now until those robbers can go to trial, and I can testify,” Chris replied.
“Did you attempt to sexually assault a blind woman?” Miran bluntly asked.
Chris looked startled before shaking his head furiously.
“Of course not.”
Miran uncrossed his arms and dropped them by his side. He noticed the trickle of sweat trailing from the man’s hair to his pale forehead. His eyes went toward the fingers that were twitching around Chris’ ring.
The obvious signs were there.
Anxious.
Afraid.
And he looked guilty as hell.
“Walk.”
The man gave a confused, wide-eyed look.
“I said walk,” Miran gritted out as he stepped aside.
Chris inhaled sharply and curtly nodded. He sauntered forward, and Miran’s gaze trailed to the man’s limping left knee. His posture was uneven.
“Enough,” Miran’s voice dismissed through the air.
The man tensed and paused.
He glanced at the doorway behind Chris where Lada stood with Ayla.
“Kiska, come in.”
Ayla gently pushed her inside, and with a few hesitant steps, Lada stepped in with the cane in front of her. Her movements were slow and timid.
“Follow my voice,” he said.
Her pretty eyes jerked in his direction before walking toward him. When she was closer, she stuck out the cane and ended up hitting his leg. It stung a little but not that bad.
“Oh, I hit you again?”
He hid a smile. “I’ll live.”
He turned to face Chris Walker.
“Can you state your name?”
He wanted Lada to hear the man’s voice up close.
The sweaty, red-faced man inhaled sharply before replying, “Chris Walker.”
He was trying hard not to look at Lada.
“Is this him?” Miran asked Lada, still looking at the man.
Lada was quiet for a few seconds before she replied, “Yes.”
Miran grazed a hand through his beard. All the signs pointed that this was the culprit. With Lada’s testimony, he was satisfied and reached behind for the handcuffs.
He looked the man dead in the eye who was scared shitless.
“Chris Walker, you are being arrested for sexually assaulting Lada Sokolova. You have the right to remain silent…”
❖
Miran was in his DEA office when Sinclair barged in.
He paused and looked up from his seat.
Sinclair sighed deeply as he took a seat across from him. He was frowning once again. He was worse than him.
Moodier and grumpier.
Miran arched an eyebrow. “Ever tried smiling?”
Sinclair stared blandly before he began, “We cannot keep Chris Walker in prison.”
Surprised, Miran questioned, “Why the hell not?”
“We can’t take the testimony of a blind woman,” Sinclair replied.
“She identified him.”
“She is blind.”
He argued, “Blind people have one of the best memories. They can recall more accurate details than most people who can see. There have been studies supporting their claims.”
Sinclair sighed as he threw his hands in the air.
“I read your report. You want me to tell the court, her testimony is in her senses?” He snickered. “In her nose and the fact that he has a mark on his neck? That mark was from his chain, not her nails. It’s not solid evidence. If she had felt his face, I could have looked into it. She didn’t catch a name, nor does she have any idea what he looks like. She can’t describe his appearance. She’s not a credible witness.”
Miran wanted to reach out and clock him in the jaw. Sighing, he cleared his throat and countered, “He scratched her. Maybe there is DNA under his nails?”
“I read that part in your report, and I ordered the test. He’s clean,” Sinclair replied.
Miran sighed. Chris Walker was smart. Too smart.
“She stated that he has a bad knee. He was the only one in the safehouse who has a leg injury. Her testimony will stand if you take a chance on her.”
Sinclair shook his head in disbelief.
“It is not enough. In court, a witness always says, ‘I saw them do it.’ She can’t say that. She will be made a mockery in court. Do you really want her to go through lawyers ripping her apart? Her training in voice recognition will be questioned until she’s left stumbling over what she heard. Is this sheltered girl ready for a trial?” Sinclair protested.
Miran’s jaw ticked as he ran a hand down his face.
“That man doesn’t deserve to walk free. I know it was him.”
Sinclair sighed in frustration. “If she takes the stand, the Bratva will know where she is. Once they hear news of her in court, they will not lose track of her.”
Miran’s breath came out in a whoosh. “So, you’re just going to release him? What if he harms another woman?”
“I have no other option but to let him go. We can’t hold him.”
“I’ll make him confess,” he offered. “I just need five minutes with him.”
Sinclair’s nostrils flared, and he looked two seconds from bursting. “Now, I know you like to do unethical methods. I turn the other way when you torture crime lords because I want those sick dickheads to rot in jail too, but I can’t close my eyes on this one. This isn’t a mob boss, and quite frankly, this is not your department again. You have to let this one go.”
Miran stared, open-mouthed.
“You’re getting too involved with this girl, Mir. You are jeopardizing everything you have worked hard for your whole life,” Sinclair claimed.
He grunted in frustration and raked a hand through his hair.
“Have you found out anything from her about Adrian?” Sinclair prompted.
Miran sighed deeply. “She says she knows nothing.”
Or does she? Maybe she’s lying to me?
She was certainly capable of it with the whole dressing and undressing charade she played.
“I see,” Sinclair muttered, interrupting his thoughts. “So, she is useless. You need to return her to the Bratva then.”
“No,” Miran gritted through his teeth.
Sinclair stared at him like he had two heads growing out of his body.
“You will, and now let’s hope the man, Walker, doesn’t decide to sue you. You examined him without a search warrant?”
Miran’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t touch him.”
“He said you intimidated him, and you interrogated him without a lawyer present. Perfect. Another hassle to deal with,” Sinclair shot out.
Without waiting for a reply, Sinclair opened the door and walked out.
