Chapter 36
Nick
THE DINER WAS ONE OF those places that specialized in two things: serving people who wanted to be left the fuck alone and smelling like egg salad no matter what time of day it was.
Sean and I picked the corner booth, but even here it was impossible to tune out the white noise of silverware on crockery and retirees arguing over who would die first.
“So,” he said. “They’re sure it’s her?”
“That’s what DNA says,” I answered, and was surprised at how normal my voice sounded.
Sean nodded. He waited for me to say more, but there wasn’t anything left to say. Isabella’s body—what was left of it—had been found in the yard of a sick fuck who liked seeing children suffer.
I was supposed to feel something. Relief, maybe. Closure, definitely. Instead, the world had turned down its color saturation to one notch above grayscale.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
Sean looked up. “Of course.”
“There's this stray cat living around Nadya’s building. Can you feed it while I'm visiting my parents?”
“Sure.” He watched me closely, probably wondering why I’m worried about a cat after finding out what happened to my sister.
“He steals food from people. Feeding him is a civil service,” I answered his silent question. “I named him Meatball.”
“Want me to catch him?” Sean asked. “I can practically see you as a cat dad.”
I flipped him off. “If you get a chance then yeah, catch the cat burglar.”
Sean poked his fork at a slab of meatloaf, then wiped his hand on a napkin. He picked up his phone, thumbed a few times, then frowned.
“Everything okay?” I asked, glad for the distraction.
He turned the phone so I could see the screen. “First floor cameras at my place are offline. Vera probably turned them off.”
That snapped me back into something resembling alertness. “You think someone cut them?”
He shrugged. “I made them easy to turn off in case we want privacy.”
The waitress came by and topped off our mugs. I added creamer and watched the white swirl through the black. The movement hypnotized me.
“Want to talk about your sister?”
“Not really,” I said.
She was gone. Really gone. Any hope of finding her alive vanished with that one phone call. I had known the chances had been slim, but now there was no chance at all.
We ate in silence for a while, listening to the clatter from the kitchen and the low drone of news from the TV bolted to the wall.
My mind wandered to the last time I’d seen Isabella, the day she vanished.
Then the missing posters, local news, school assemblies—none of it mattered.
She was just gone. A black hole in the shape of a nine-year-old girl.
“Nick,” Sean said, and I blinked back to the present.
He was holding his phone again. “The whole security system just went down. That’s not normal.”
I sat up. “Cell or hardwired?”
“Hardwired.”
Power outages might take it out, but what were the chances? If I were trying to break in, on the other hand, I’d cut the power, especially if I knew there was a security system.
We both stood up at the same time, tossed cash on the table, and were out the door before the waitress even noticed.
On the sidewalk, I fumbled for my keys, but Sean was already on the phone, calling his security team.
Police were notoriously bad at responding to security alarms. In the city this size, it would probably be close to an hour before they’d get there. Sean's team would be way faster. Hell, as far as Sean and I were, we’d be faster.
“Leila’s the only one close,” Sean said, shoving the phone in his pocket. “Everyone else is stuck at the Mayday job.”
“Leila’s a tech,” I said, feeling sweat start to gather under my arms. “She doesn’t have field training.”
Sean shrugged. “She can call the police if it looks suspicious. They'll respond to an emergency call faster than a security alarm.”
We got in Sean’s car, and he punched the gas, cut off a minivan, and headed for the house.
We rode in silence for a while, the radio dead, the windows rattling. I checked my own phone, hoping for a text from Nadya. Nothing.
The one time I let my guard down. Of course. The one fucking time.
We were ten minutes from the house when Sean’s phone buzzed. He put it on speaker.
“Leila,” he barked.
“There’s a problem,” she said, voice trembling. “Two men forced entry at the side door. I tried to get closer, but I’m not exactly trained for this, Sean.”
“Did you call the police?”
“They’re on their way. And the fire department, too. They set the house on fire and are sitting tight in the yard.”
My mouth went dry, and fear clawed at my insides. This was worse than any mission I had been on as a Navy SEAL. At least then, it had been my own life on the line.
“Can you see Vera and Nadya?” Sean asked.
“Hard to see anything in there through all the smoke.” Leila muttered something under her breath before finally saying, “I think they just went into the basement.”
He punched the dashboard. “Fuck.”
“There’ll be less smoke in the basement,” I pointed out but how long until the beams start falling on their heads.
“Perps just jumped into their car and are leaving the scene,” Leila said through the speaker on Sean's phone. “I'm following them with a drone.”
Sean turned onto a side street, gunned it through two stop signs, then braked hard as we reached his block. The house was a few houses down, with a narrow driveway and a tiny patch for a yard.
Smoke billowed from a busted window.
We jumped out of the car and ran for the house. The front door was ajar; hinges warped from the force of entry. I could hear the faint wail of sirens, still blocks away, still too far when time was measured in heartbeats.
We didn’t bother with the front, sprinting around the side instead.
The door to the basement was at the back with the grill laying against it, blocking anyone from being able to come out that way.
The fuckers must've wanted our girls to only have one way out.
They must've been spooked to drive away. Either Leila had been too obvious or they’d spotted a neighbor watching them.
Sean grabbed the grill and moved it, then unlocked the basement door and swung it open. A broomstick came out of the darkness, but I blocked it.
“It's us,” I said to a terrified looking Vera. “Where's Nadya?”
She’d better be safe. I didn't know what I’d do if she wasn't.
Nadya peeked out from behind the door, her eyes bloodshot and face pale, a canister of bathroom cleaner in one hand and a broken piece of wood in the other. “Are they gone?”
The wails of sirens got closer.
“Yeah. Probably figured they didn't want to be here when the police show up,” I answered and ushered Nadya out, wrapping one arm around her waist for support, but really, I just wanted my hands on her.
Vera went to Sean, hugging him tight, looking more vulnerable than I thought possible for the stern, unflappable nurse.
“Come on, let's put a little distance between us and the burning building while the fire department do their work,” Sean said, guiding us down a narrow driveway just as the first police cruiser pulled up.
A fire truck screeched to a stop in front of the house, and a wall of uniforms spilled out, dragging hoses and axes.
A police officer approached us, “Officer Martinez. Can you tell me what happened?”
I showed him my creds. “Agent Santana. It was arson. Unsubs were trying to get rid of witnesses.”
Leila joined us with her laptop. “I still have them.”
“Which one is them?” Martinez asked, looking at the cars trying to get onto the highway.
Leila tapped her nail on the black sedan. “That's them.”
“I can get an APB out,” Martinez offered.
“Give me a minute to call this in first.” I pulled out my phone and placed the call. It only took two rings.
“Keller.”
“Boss, it's Santana. Two unsubs just tried to kill Vera and Nadezhda Almaznaya. The tech specialist from the security company Vera's fiancé runs is following them with a drone. Want the locals to pick them up?”
A moment of tense silence as my boss processed that. “How long can your tech keep following them?”
I relayed the question to Leila, and she shrugged with one shoulder. “Until I can't keep my eyes open.”
“For as long as needed,” I told my boss.
“Good. Let's see where they go and who they meet. I want their names and the names of anyone they talk to. We're not making any arrests right now.”
“Got it.” I turned to Martinez. “No APB.” Then to Leila. “Do you have close ups of their faces?”
She pulled out her phone with one hand and unlocked it without looking away from the drone footage. “I snapped a few pictures. Help yourself to them.”
The first image showed a male with red, irritated eyes. “What happened to his eyes?”
Nadya shook the canister of the bathroom cleaner. “Scrubbing bubbles.”
A caught wracked her body. Damn, we needed medics here. She inhalated too much smoke.
Just as I thought it, I heard another siren, this one an ambulance. Perfect timing.
I couldn't help the smile. “Good work, Sleep Brawler.”
“I was awake this time.”
“You’ll always be a sleep brawler to me.” I texted the photos to me and Renat, then dialed him.
“Who's that?” he asked, skipping all the pleasantries.
“These two tried to get to Nadya and Vera Almaznaya. They are fleeing the scene, but we have eyes on them. Do you want to run facial recognition or should I?”
“I’ll run it. You go take care of your girl and see your parents.”
My heart squeezed painfully at the reminder.
“Do you want me to give your number to the tech running the drone? She's working for a private security company.” As in, she didn't have clearance.
Renat grumbled something under his breath, then said, “Yeah. And we need Almaznayas in protective custody. This is the third attempt between all three of them.”
Nadya would kill me, but at least she'd be alive to do that.
“Rodger that,” I answered before hanging up and giving Leila his number.
It was time to piss people off.