Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
She checked her phone again—nothing. Fuck this. She couldn’t just sit here and stew. She had to do something. Since she’d promised Dmitri she wouldn’t leave the house, she stalked to their bedroom and rifled through the closet until she came up with some workout clothes. A quick stop to check her e-mail and print out the first plan Charlie had sent her, and she was off to the small gym on the first floor. She just had to keep moving and stay focused on something besides the minutes ticking by without a word from Dmitri.
If he finds out I was worried about him, I’ll never hear the end of it.
Dmitri watched his men tear apart the little apartment they’d tracked down. It was grungy, and the appearance of a film over every surface wasn’t entirely imagined. The kitchen had mismatched plates stacked in the sink, and the living room held a single couch that should have been burned years ago. The TV on the absurdly tiny entertainment center was huge and was the only new thing in the whole place. One of the bedrooms held a scattering of both men’s and women’s clothing—the difference between them as staggering as that between the couch and the television.
The bathroom was what turned his stomach. A bar had been mounted at the front of the tub, just above the faucet. From the way the metal was worn, there had been metal cuffs dragged over it again and again. It didn’t take much connecting of the dots to know the kind of torture they’d set up here for Mikhail.
But the Eldridges were gone and Mikhail with them. From the look of the place, they’d left shortly after Alethea called him—possibly as recently as this morning. They had been there, though.
“Nothing, boss.”
Nothing except the piece of paper he held in his hand. A taunt Alethea hadn’t been able to resist.
Have to be faster next time, Romanov.
She thought this was a game she could win. He read the paper for the twelfth time. It didn’t make sense. Even if she had a mole in his household, he and Aiden had her backed into a corner. They had ensured her daughter was arrested, even if Mae had posted bail. Alethea should be desperate and reckless right now in her attempts to find a way around Mae’s charges—she shouldn’t be taunting him as if she knew something he didn’t.
Dmitri snapped his fingers. “Burner phone.”
Alexei passed one over, and Dmitri wasted no time calling the one fed he believed to be beyond reproach. John Finch was incorruptible—and had been since he was a beat cop in New York back in the seventies. He’d eventually made the jump to the FBI’s organized crime division after his daughter was born, and he’d worked his way up the ranks. He had a sterling reputation—at least professionally.
“John Finch.”
It took precious seconds for him to get a hold of his temper. Like most people in his world, Dmitri loathed the man, but he’d always had a distant sort of respect for him. No longer. Not after seeing the unforgivable skew of his priorities. Family should matter more than a job. For John Finch, it didn’t.
But he kept all that out of his voice when he spoke. “Someone’s been making questionable decisions.”
“Dmitri Romanov.” Finch’s voice was flat. “To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of a direct call from you?”
“You didn’t do your job. You had Mae gift wrapped for you—by your daughter, no less—and she’s slipped through your fingers. Explain that.”
“I don’t have to explain shit to you.”
He strove for patience. Surrounded by evidence of his man being tortured by those bitches, there was none to be had. “Wrong. You may think you’re on the side of good in this little spat, but you’re no different than I am. The only difference between us is that I don’t let my enemies escape.”
“I had nothing to do with that choice.” Finally, some emotion bled into the man’s voice. Frustration. “The judge ultimately made that decision. There isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. It’s out of my hands.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do.” Even if Mae was technically beyond his jurisdiction, Alethea wasn’t. Nothing had happened to deter them from continuing to investigate her. “Surely you have surveillance at the very least.”
“I’ve been ordered to stand down.” Finch’s voice was so low, Dmitri thought he’d misheard him. But then he continued, “You’re on your own, Romanov.” He hung up.
Fuck.
He’d consider the implications of that later. “We’re leaving. Now.” There was nothing to find here, and if Finch wasn’t authorized to keep tabs on the Eldridges, it meant they had leverage higher up the chain than he was. Which meant Dmitri and his men were likely under surveillance themselves—if they hadn’t been already. A mole and we’re being watched. Enemies on all sides.