Chapter 49
My old burner phone buzzes, and I pick it up with a smile tugging at my lips. It might be my daily pancake update. My daughter has taken to giving me regular status reports on her breakfast and sleeping habits.
But my heart thuds against my breastbone when I see that the message is from Dex.
Nadia has gone missing. Meet us at the penthouse as soon as you can.
By the time I fly into their lobby, my stomach is in knots. I don’t believe this is a coincidence. Spataro’s men know who I am, and they know about my connection to Kesera.
The doorman must have orders to let me straight upstairs because he waves me toward the dedicated penthouse elevator. When the doors open, Kesera stands in front of me, red-rimmed eyes puffy from crying and her arms wrapped around herself.
“Zolotaya. Come here.” I step toward her and wrap her in a bear hug, squeezing her tight against my chest. She feels so right in my arms and I pull her tighter, relishing the chance to shelter her. “What can I do?”
She pads into the kitchen on leaden feet, pulling me to join Dex at the table. Nona stands at the sink and continues rinsing dishes as if this is a perfectly normal workday. Kesera sinks into a chair, staring dead-eyed at some printouts of two girls walking out of the gates of Blessed Heart International Elementary School.
“We pulled this from the school’s security footage,” Dex says. “This is Nadia and her best friend Daniella leaving the school at lunchtime. They didn’t return to school, and they didn’t come back to our place for a sleepover as planned.”
“What did you say her best friend’s name was?” I ask.
“Daniella Greco. Why?” Dex looks up at me.
“Is she Italian? How long have they been friends?”
Kesera must pick up on the agitated tone of my voice because she jerks upright in her chair and watches me intently.
“Danni joined the school when her family moved from Italy last year, and the two girls just hit it off,” Kesera says. “They’ve spent a lot of the last year at each other’s houses, making dance videos, putting on plays, baking cookies.”
“You say that she only moved here last year? And she’s Italian. It could be a coincidence, but I don’t like it.” I look over at Dex, who nods as he pulls out a computer.
“It’s an international school. There are a lot of diplomats’ families and people from the UN, as well as the usual banker and hedge-fund kids. It’s not unusual for people to move from overseas.” Kesera’s voice sounds reedy, as if she’s trying to convince herself.
I take Kesera’s hands in mine. “I could be panicking over nothing, but her going missing with an Italian friend when the Italian Mafia are baying for my blood gives me a bad feeling.”
Dex looks up at me. “We ran checks on Daniella when we got back. There were no immediate red flags, but I agree. I don’t like it. Nadia’s been going back and forth to school, and Danni’s been meeting her here, so we minimized the risk.”
“It might be nothing, zolotaya,” I say, ignoring the churning in my gut which tells me this couldn’t possibly be nothing. I pull her chair toward mine and put my arm around her shaking shoulder.
“Or it might not,” Dex mutters, keeping the drama to a minimum but backing me up.
I pick up my phone. “Sasha. Are you in town?”
“Yes, I was heading to the banya.”
“Well, can you head over to Central Park West? I need you to meet me at an address I’ll text you. Something has come up.”
Kesera looks up, confused, and I shake my head.
“That’s not your usual part of town. Sounds serious,” Sasha says.
I hear the question in his voice, but I don’t want to go into details on the phone. He’s already met Kesera, and he was such a raging asshole that I didn’t see her again for years. This has the potential to go badly, but I need my best friend.
“Serious enough,” I say, and he grunts an affirmative before I hang up.
Laying my phone on the table, I say, “Do you have any faraday bags?”
And to my relief, Dex walks over to his backpack and pulls out a lightweight silver bag that blocks phone signals and tosses it over to me. I slide all of our phones into the bag and seal it shut.
“There,” I say. “Now no one can turn our phones into microphones. The Italians own plenty of corrupt cops.”
So do we, but who knows who’s listening in?
I turn to Dex. “My business partner Sasha is on his way. Can you send someone down to meet him once we find out where Danni lives? Then we can take it from there.” I force my voice lower and project as much calm and certainty as I can as Kesera’s shoulders start shaking again.
She chokes back a sob, and I haul her onto my lap, pulling her into my chest and putting a finger under her chin so that I can look into her jade eyes. They’re still beautiful, even after hours of crying.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get Nadia back,” I say. “It’s probably just kids being kids, but even if this is linked to the Italians, the girl I picked up is safe with us. We haven’t harmed her, so there’s no reason for the Italians to hurt our daughter.”
Kesera bites down on her lip, and then she looks up at me. “Two dead bodies at my place in upstate New York say otherwise.” Her eyes swim with tears.
I rock her back and forth on my lap. “They were foot soldiers, zolotaya. Pawns. Nadia is a queen in a chess game. She’ll be safe until the players work out how to put the other side in check. You don’t waste pieces like that.”
“You can’t be sure.” She looks away from me, but I pull her tighter into my arms.
“If you put a trace on her burner phone,” I say, “we can narrow the area down, but it’s not precise.”
“I don’t think she carries it,” Kesera says.
I shake my head. “I think she does. I’ve been getting daily updates on what she’s had for breakfast, and why she’s angry you won’t let her organize a spa party.”
“My god, how often is she messaging you?” Kesera looks upset.
“Daily. She has strong opinions about spa parties. I’m sure we can track her down and everything will be fine,” I say with more assurance than I feel.
I almost think I can make her believe me, but the elevator doors open and Sasha strides into the kitchen with a face like thunder.
“What the hell is going on?” he says, throwing his tall frame into one of the kitchen chairs with enough force to break it. “I’ve just had a message from Dante Spataro asking for a meeting in Westbury.”
Who the fuck is Dante Spataro?I look over at Sasha. “I thought the don’s name was Vincenzo.”
“It is,” Sasha says, nodding briefly at Kesera. “But apparently, Dante is his son, and he says he’s holding your daughter.”
Kesera slides off my lap and I nod at Sasha, picking up my phone and checking my gun is securely tucked in my waistband. I’m moving into work mode.
“Let’s go,” I say to him, but Kesera puts a hand on my chest and pushes me backward.
“No one is going anywhere to look for my daughter until you’ve explained what the hell is going on.” She pushes me into the chair and spins to face Sasha, who’s smirking at her like this is a joke. The animosity between my best friend and the woman I’m falling for hums through the air like pressure before a storm.