InsaneJournal

Who: Natasha and Stahma
What: Making headway on who framed Stahma for murder.
When: Mid March
Where: Stahma's home
Warnings: Discussion of murder and brief talk of physical abuse



They had made some progress in the case involving Jimmy Vega’s murder. Stahma had come a bit closer to proving her innocence and getting off of the police’s radar. Luckily for her, she had her illegal ties very well hidden so the cops couldn’t get her on any of that. Besides, she was also certain that Natasha took extra precautions in that area as well, ensuring that information stayed hidden.

Stahma was sitting in the living room, reading over the medical examiner’s report about Jimmy’s autopsy. How the files had been acquired was unimportant, though it had probably been Natasha to get ahold of them.

The murder seemed straight forward. There was evidence that his wrists and ankles had been bound and there was some trauma to various parts of his body, as though he had been interrogated and beaten before he’d been killed execution style. The physical evidence did point to Stahma, but there was something about the photos of Jimmy’s body that was off to Stahma. Her eyes narrowed as she started to focus on the photos, setting the rest of the report aside.

Some information stayed hidden, other information was false. Natasha had planted the right seeds to keep the trail off of Stahma, but Stahma had an alibi, and witnesses. Yet the Police kept trying to dig. Someone was paying them very well. They’d need to provide conclusive proof of Stahma’s innocence, and finding the guilty party would be the best way to do that. She draped herself over Stahma’s shoulders. “What is it?”

Stahma leaned back a bit into Natasha. “There is something not right with these photos. The man was clearly beaten before he was shot execution style, but something is not quite fitting that picture that they want us to see.” It was difficult to tell and she flipped to a different picture with a different angle. “I have seen my share of bodies after death and after taking a beating similar to this. The bruising seems...off this time. It is inferred that he was shot not long after he was beaten, according to the report. If so, the bruising should not be so vivid, correct?”

“Yes. He’d have to be alive for many more hours for that amount of bruising. Otherwise when he died the blood flow would stop.” And then there would be less bruising. “So he was beaten hours, if not days before he was shot. Not your style, and not accurate to the report.”

“Precisely. While I do not mind beating someone, if I intend to kill them after it, it would be right away.” Stahma was far cleaner when it came to that sort of thing. And she didn’t always do it herself. The killing part yes. The beating part, not so much. “So I suppose now we should be asking the question of why someone wanted this to look like an execution following a torture. Interrogation to get information seems to be the ultimate goal they wanted to portray.” Though what information remained to be seen.

“Did you dig through this man’s background?” Perhaps he had some connection somewhere that crossed with Stahma, or someone she did business with.

“Yes. No direct ties to you, but he does have ties to some men who used to work for you back in Moscow. Aleksander Petrov. He used to be employed by you. Was killed a year back, but a year before that he and Vega crossed paths in Saudi Arabia.”

Stahma’s eyes narrowed. Aleksander Petrov was certainly a name she knew well. “So there is a connection, albeit a distant one.” She didn’t need to ask about Petrov, she was well aware of his history. And suddenly things started to become far clearer to her. “It’s all leading back to Moscow.”

And then she saw it. The wound pattern on Vega’s body drew up memories that she really didn’t want to remember. It was quickly dawning on her who might be behind this. But she needed proof, not just going by what she wanted to see. Stahma’s expression grew icy and blank, though the look in her eye had a fire to it that said she was going to kill someone in a very horrid way.

“Stahma?” Natasha squeezed her shoulder, feeling the ice through her skin, and the tension in her shoulders. “What is it? What leads to Moscow?”

“It’s Datak. It has to be.” Her eyes narrowed as she continued to look at the photographs. “Datak once beat me within an inch of my life because I’d had the audacity to run the business while he was in prison. The wound pattern he gave me was far too similar to this man’s wounds to simply be a coincidence. It is a message he is sending me. But we need hard proof.” And Stahma was probably going to murder her ex-husband in a very painful manner.

One of Natasha’s eyes twitched. She knew men like that. She hated men like that. She’d known it was bad for Stahma, but to hear it in words? Didn’t help. She hoped Stahma wouldn’t mind if he lost a finger. Or a hand, before it was all over. “That he can still get to you.”

Stahma wouldn’t mind that in the least. “That, and it is undoubtedly his response to what I did to him to secure the divorce on my terms. Now it’s time to look closer at this little web. Luckily for us, Datak is not the subtle sort. Proof should be able to be located rather easily.”

“Whatever happens, it needs to look like an accident, not reprisal,” Natasha warned. She already knew where Stahma’s mind was going. As cathartic as it might be, obvious murder would just reopen this bag of worms at some point in the future.

“I know. I will contain myself.” Though Stahma would take it out in increments as they worked their way through the chain of people that would inevitably tie this murder to Datak. “Though I suppose that means we cannot kill him, but instead make certain he is in jail here for the rest of his life. He deserves a gulag, but he has far too many friends in Russia that would get him out.” Stahma also wouldn’t put it past her father to get Datak out only to send him after her as some sort of recompense for turning her back on her family.

“Okay.” Natasha trusted Stahma in that. She came around and sat on the couch next to her and rested her hand on Stahma’s leg. “I’d like to see him dead. But jail works. Someone might take care of that for us anyway. He has a lot of enemies too.”

“Believe me, no one wishes to see him dead more than I do. But if it goes that far, it would not clear my name in the process.” They needed to find the trail Datak had left, undo it, and let the police and other proper authorities follow it to Datak. Taking a breath, she set a hand over Natasha’s and looked at her. “We will be smart about this, and we will have the last laugh.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Natasha turned her hand around to squeeze Stahma’s fingers in turn. “It’ll be a fantastic laugh. We’ll need to practice our evil laugh.”

Stahma threaded her fingers through Natasha’s, a little smile crossing her face. “We should certainly have good evil laughs when we watch him fall.” It was like a game of dominos that they would intricately set up. Then, once the first one was knocked over, it would be a ripple effect until Datak was the last one to fall.

“Where do you think the first domino will be?” Natasha was eager to begin. Begin, get it over with, move on to other things. She hoped Putin was a part of those dominos.

“Probably within the interaction Vega had with Aleksander. Clearly there is enough of a connection to me through them that Datak used it as a message.” Aleksander was obviously dead and couldn’t provide recent information, but something that happened between his meeting Vega in Saudi Arabia and his own death would be a good start. “Perhaps Aleksander’s death warrants looking into. You said he died a year ago? Perhaps that was Datak’s first move.” Stahma had been in Orange County for over a year, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“Maybe he asked too many questions, or maybe he hoped you’d notice then. But you didn’t.” It was a thread, and Natasha made note of it. “I’ll book a trip to Russia. I’m going to have to use a different cover than the last few times. Too many trips is suspicious, obviously.”

“Indeed, it is best to keep a low profile. I would go with you, but considering the investigation, I should not leave the area.” Not until the police had enough evidence to charge someone else, and drop charges against her.

Nat carefully took everything out of Stahma’s hand and set it on the coffee table. “I’ll book a flight tomorrow.” She lifted her hand, massaging her knuckles and her fingers. “Try not to stew in the rage.”

Stahma chuckled softly. “I will do my best not to.” She gazed at Natasha. “When we clear this up, we should go somewhere, just the two of us.” She didn’t want Laura to get on her case about not taking Natasha on vacation somewhere, so best to get things planned, right?

“Got any ideas?” Nat wasn’t sure she could make the time, but she’d at least try. Of course, she didn’t know that Laura and Stahma wouldn’t give her any other choice. Laura would even enlist Kitty.

But if they were going to force her not to work, she’d get them all back.

“Somewhere warm and tropical. Preferably a beach. You would look stunning in a bikini.” Stahma said with a bit of a smirk. It was something she was still working on, but they would certainly deserve a break after dealing with this unforeseen circumstance.

“Not with the scar on my stomach,” Nat joked. Mostly, she didn’t want to be identified. But maybe, just for Stahma, she could make an exception.