A metal folding chair creaked as he jerked it open in the middle of the garage.
When I didn’t move, the man behind me yanked me toward it by the hair. With giant, meaty, calloused hands, he set me roughly down into it.
“You know who I am, Ms. Donovan,” the man in the suit said. It was not a question.
I glanced over my shoulder at the ogre wielding the knife. Clearly, he hadn’t received the memo about the dress code. He wore a tight black T-shirt and dark denim jeans over a stocky, muscular frame. My eyes traveled upward, to a smoothly shaven head over heavy, expressive eyebrows, and a nose that looked like it had been broken a few times. Up close, Andrei Borovkov was every bit as terrifying as I’d imagined he’d be.
Heels clicked slowly over the garage floor. My stomach fell away as Feliks Zhirov stepped into a beam of dusky light. His smile was serene. Expectant. I could only shake my head. “No,” I croaked. “I don’t think so.”
His smile opened wider, revealing straight white teeth. His sleek, dark hair fell curiously over one eye. “And yet, you were following me. Why?”
“I wasn’t—”
He held up a hand, his cuff links glittering in the low light. “Let’s do each other the courtesy of not wasting each other’s time.” His voice was ominously soft, the tight muscle of his jaw hinting at his impatience. “Yesterday, a blue sedan, with the same license plate as the one you just parked, followed my limo on a little expedition through Fauquier County. My colleague tracked that plate to this garage.” Feliks tucked his hands in his pockets, his elegant gait and his words thoughtfully measured as he paced in front of me. “Ramón and I had a little talk. He told me you’d be coming to return the car tonight, so I encouraged him to take the rest of the evening off. Which means we can stay in this garage as long as necessary.
But I’m sure you’d rather be home with your children, Ms. Donovan.” He let my name hang in the silence. Finding my home—my children—would be easy, assuming he hadn’t already … “So let’s cut to the chase. Tell me.” He straightened his sleeves with a pinch of each cuff as he sauntered closer. “Why were you following me?”
“I wasn’t following you.” Feliks paused in front of my chair, the hard lines of his mouth tightening into a thin line as his eyes cut to Andrei. Andrei’s hot cigarette breath rolled over the back of my neck. His knife bit my throat as his calloused hands pinned me in the chair. All I could think of were the three men Georgia’s friends had found murdered in an empty warehouse, their throats cut from ear to ear, left in a river of blood.
“I was following Theresa!” I blurted. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Eyes squeezed shut, I braced for death. When it didn’t come, I peeled one open.
Feliks cocked his head. Curiosity softened the sharp contours of his face as he regarded me the way a cat might consider its prey—uncertain if he wanted to kill me or play with me. “What exactly is your business with Ms. Hall?”
“She’s engaged to my ex-husband.”
His eyebrows rose with a hint of surprise. “And what had you hoped to gain by spying on our meeting?”
My mouth went dry. I tried not to think about the sting of Andrei’s knife, or the cool trickle down the side of my neck that may or may not have been sweat. “Steven … My ex-husband thinks she’s having an affair.”
“So you enlisted the help of a police officer to catch her?” Feliks laughed quietly. He scratched the dark stubble on his jaw. “Don’t look so surprised, Ms. Donovan. Detective Anthony and I go back a very long time. I may not have recognized the car, but I sure as hell recognized the driver.” He leaned in, a wicked gleam in his eye. He smelled like expensive liquor, soft leather, and fancy cologne, what I imagined the inside of a limo must smell like. “I can safely assume you witnessed nothing worthwhile, since Ms. Hall and I share a purely professional relationship.” The devious curl of his lip suggested we had different definitions of professional, and I recoiled as he brushed a stray lock of hair from my face with the tip of his finger. “But tell me,” he said, slipping his hands back in his pockets, “what was the detective after?”
“Nothing,” I said, my voice trembling. “He was just keeping me company.”
“Am I to infer that you and Detective Anthony enjoy a … personal relationship?”
I nodded, mute as Feliks knelt in front of me. His dark eyes flashed as he took me by the face, jerking my chin up. His voice crackled over with ice. “If I discover you’ve been lying to me, I will find you. Do you understand?”
Heart pounding, I nodded into his hand.
Andrei watched him, knife held, waiting for a sign.
A siren wailed in the distance, drawing closer.
Feliks let go. He rose to his feet as a car skidded to a stop out front, flooding the high windows with swirling blue light.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Donovan,” Feliks said. “I trust I won’t be seeing you again.”
He motioned to Andrei, and the hulking man followed him to the exit at the rear of the garage. My breath rushed out on a shudder as the back door closed behind them.
“Finlay!” Nick’s muted shouts echoed from outside. Doors rattled on their hinges, one by one, as he made his way around the building. Bells jangled in the office. I got to my feet, surprised my shaking legs would hold me up.
“Over here,” I managed to say.
Gun in hand, his figure swept into the garage, his eyes darting to every corner of the room. He rushed toward me and jerked to a stop. His gaze fell to my neck, then quickly over the rest of me. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I swiped a sticky bead of blood from my throat. The red smear it left on my fingertips made me woozy. “Just a scratch,” I assured him. “I’m fine.”
He took a slow step closer, tucking his gun back into his holster. I flinched as he lifted my chin to check the cut on my neck. His hand lingered possessively on my jaw, his body a little closer than professional protocol probably called for.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Vero called but I was in a meeting and couldn’t pick up. She left a frantic message. All she said was that you were at Ramón’s Towing and Salvage and you’d forgotten your phone, and you needed help. I got here as fast as I could.”
Ramón must have called Vero. He must have told her Feliks and Andrei were here waiting for me. When she hadn’t been able to get through to warn me, she must have realized she had my phone. And she’d been worried enough to call Nick.
“You mind telling me what the hell’s going on here?” he asked.
“I had an appointment to pick up my van, but Ramón wasn’t here. Feliks Zhirov was inside waiting for me with one of his goons.”
Nick’s hand froze where it cupped my jaw. His eyes skated back and forth over mine, the skin around them creased with worry.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “They ran out the back door when they heard your siren.” His eyes leapt to the rear of the garage, as if he was ready to run after them. “Don’t bother,” I told him. “They’re long gone by now.” I hadn’t seen Feliks’s car when I’d pulled up. He’d probably parked on the next block. The last thing I wanted was for Nick to go looking for them.
Nick dragged the folding chair closer, holding it steady as I slumped into it. The adrenaline rush was fading, and exhaustion was filling the void.
“Tell me everything,” he said.
“Feliks knew we were tailing him the other day. He got the tag number of the loaner car and tracked it here. My mechanic is Vero’s cousin. He must have called her to let her know I was in trouble.” I leaned my elbows on my knees, rubbing the tension from my temples. Not only was I on Feliks’s radar now, but so was Nick.
He rested his hands on his hips and looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry I didn’t get Vero’s message sooner.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said through a shaky sigh.
“What did Feliks say?”
“He wanted to know why I was tailing him. I told him I was fol
lowing Theresa. But he recognized you.”
“Shit.” Nick scrubbed his face as he paced a slow circle around the garage. “How’d you explain that?”
“I told him you and I were … involved. And the fact that you were in my car had nothing to do with him. But I’m not sure he believed me.”
Nick paused, amusement lurking in the suggestive lift of his smile. “If you want to try convincing him, I have a few ideas.”
With a roll of my eyes, I stood up, turning my back on him as I strode to the office to recover my purse. All I wanted was to make sure Vero was okay, to peek in on my kids as they slept, and to kiss them good night.
“Finn, wait.” Nick swore quietly, catching me by the elbow. “I’m sorry. I was only trying to lighten things up. I know you’ve had one hell of a night. And I feel terrible that Feliks roughed you up because he spotted us together.” He shook his head, raking his hands through his dark curls and setting them heavily on his hips. “I should’ve taken my own car. I should never have brought you along. Georgia’s going to strangle me when she finds out—”
“She won’t find out,” I said, ignoring the guilt that tugged at my insides. “I won’t tell her if you won’t.”
A weight fell from his shoulders. He nodded. “Go get your things. I’ll drive you home.”
My knees were still wobbly as I retreated to the office, and I was grateful for the excuse not to drive. I bent to collect the spilled contents of my purse, scraping cosmetics and loose change from the floor and jamming my wallet back inside. Nick’s footfalls grew louder as I reached for my wig-scarf. As he came up behind me, I pushed it deeper under the desk.
“I’m going to have an unmarked keep an eye on your house for a while.” I stood up, ready to protest, but Nick held up a finger. “Just for a few days. Just until we know he’s not going to try to come for you again.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he was already calling it in. By the time he dropped me off at home, a cop would be stationed down the street from my house, documenting my every move, watching me come and go. This was worse than Mrs. Haggerty. Much, much worse. I used my shoe to nudge the wig-scarf deeper under the desk; I didn’t dare bring it home.
CHAPTER 35
Suddenly, plotting murder didn’t seem so hard. At the very least, it seemed easier than figuring out how not to murder someone in real life. Because when the doorbell rang at eight thirty on Saturday morning, I was irritable enough to try.
Honestly, I was surprised Steven had bothered to use the doorbell at all. Maybe Vero’s lecture had sunk in. Either that, or the key she’d thrown in the diaper pail had truly been his only one. I nursed a cup of coffee as I padded stiffly to the door.
“You’re early,” I droned into my mug as I drew it open. “The kids aren’t—”
Nick leaned against the doorframe, freshly shaven and his hair still damp from a shower, a grin taking hold as he took in my disheveled state. “Good morning to you, too.”
I smoothed a hand through my hair, then clutched the front of my robe to hold it closed over the same sweat-soured clothes I’d been wearing the night before. “Sorry, I thought you were Steven. What are you doing here?” I pressed my mouth shut; I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet.
“Came to see how you’re doing after last night.” His eyes dipped to my neck, and I reached to cover the nick Andrei had given me. The tiny scab was hardly noticeable this morning, but I’d just as soon forget the whole experience. Nick’s brow furrowed, his usual easy smile turning down at the edges. “How’d you sleep?”
“I didn’t. Much.” Under the pressure of my looming deadline and countless emails from my agent, I’d been up working until three. I’d hardly been conscious enough to remember to send my latest batch of work to Sylvia before crashing in my clothes.
Nick hooked a thumb over his shoulder, toward an unmarked car parked just down the street. “You can rest easier tonight. Officer Roddy’s keeping an eye on the place. Feliks won’t get within five hundred feet without me knowing about it.”
Great. Just what I needed. Maybe Officer Roddy and Mrs. Haggerty could have tea and share notes.
Nick raised an eyebrow. He bounced lightly on the heels of a pair of dress shoes. He’d ditched his usual dark jeans and Henley for a pair of steel-gray slacks and a button-down shirt. “You up for a little field trip?”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“Only if you want it to be.”
I rolled my eyes at him over my coffee and gestured for him to come in. He followed me into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Detective,” Vero said over her reading glasses and her textbook. “Help yourself to some coffee. Mugs are above the pot.” She checked him out under her long lashes and mouthed “so hot” to me while his back was turned.
“Where are we going?” I asked, feeling a little crotchety. I didn’t care how good Nick looked. Every time he showed up on my doorstep, I was just grateful he wasn’t holding a pair of handcuffs and a warrant.
Nick pulled a mug from the cabinet. “Got any milk?”
“In the fridge,” Vero said, running a highlighter over her textbook page without looking up.
“I’ll get it—” I held my breath as he beat me to the fridge, pausing in front of the open door.
“I got a call from a tech at the lab,” he said, plucking the carton of milk from the shelf. I offered up a silent prayer of thanks that there hadn’t been a bag of cash wedged under it as he splashed some in his mug. “I’m heading over this morning to pick up his report. I thought you might want to come along.”
Vero glanced up at the mention of the lab. “You go ahead,” she said. “I’ll stay with the kids.”
“But you’ve got your exams to study for.”
“Steven’s picking them up soon. The house will be quiet.”
“But—”
“You really shouldn’t pass up a visit to the lab,” she said firmly. “You might learn something interesting. You know, for your book.” She placed a particular emphasis on this last bit.
“Okay,” I conceded, infusing each word with the same added weight. “I’m sure you’ll be fine here, since Nick has Officer Roddy doing surveillance just outside.”
Vero’s mouth formed a soft oh. “That’s so thoughtful of him.” She glanced sideways out the window, lifting a little in her seat to see Roddy’s car. “Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll keep Detective Anthony company.” She shooed me upstairs, ignoring my protests. “So tell me about this Officer Roddy. Is he single?” I heard her ask as I shut myself in my room.
Great. This was just great. Knowing Nick, he probably had an officer stationed outside Theresa’s house, too. But Vero was right. I’d learn more about the status of the investigation sitting in his car than I would watching it play out from my window.
I hopped in a fast shower, towel-dried my hair, swiped on some mascara and gloss, and stood in my towel in front of the closet. My wardrobe consisted mostly of sweatpants and T-shirts, so I was surprised to find my only pair of black slacks, cleaned and pressed, hanging beside a crisp white button-down shirt that Vero must have washed and ironed for me. I dragged them on, nearly tripping myself as I rushed to sling on a pair of low heels. If we were going to a forensics lab, I should at least look like I’d arrived in the front of a police cruiser, rather than the back of one.
I descended the stairs, fishing around for the holes in my ears with the posts of the diamond studs Steven had bought for me on our first anniversary. I hadn’t worn them since the divorce, and I was surprised to find the holes in my lobes hadn’t closed completely.
Nick and Vero glanced up as my heels clicked into the kitchen. Vero looked confused. “I’m sorry. Do I know you? Because I thought I worked for a vampire in yoga pants.”
Ignoring her, I turned to Nick. “Ready to go?”
He wore a crooked smile as he rose from his chair, his gaze falling into the deep V in my blouse. “Is that a euphemism?”
Heat bloomed over m
y chest and I turned sharply for the door.
Vero snickered into her textbook. “Have her home before dark, Detective. Finlay has a book to work on.”
“We’ll be back in a few hours,” I called over my shoulder.
The children’s duffels were already packed and waiting in the foyer. The sight of them left me feeling a little untethered. I was pretty sure I’d never get used to this. Nick waited as I pasted on a convincing smile and gave them each a kiss good-bye. Delia’s peach-fuzzy hair was soft against my chin. Zach’s pudgy cheeks smelled like Cheerios and warm milk and I breathed them in. “Be good for your daddy, and I’ll see you on Monday morning, okay?”
I swiped my eyes. When I threw open the door, Steven was standing in front of me, his hand poised to knock. I darted a panicked glance into the windshield of his truck, thankful Theresa and Aimee weren’t in it.
Steven’s jaw tensed as he looked over my shoulder at Nick. Nick came around me and extended a hand. Steven took it reluctantly.
“Who’s this?” he asked me.
“That’s Nick,” Delia answered from the living room, dragging her naked Barbie around by the hair. “He’s a friend of Aunt Georgia’s.”
“Oh, yeah?” Steven’s smile was bitter under his ball cap, his tight fists punching an outline through the pockets of his sweatshirt.
“He and Mommy are dating.”
My eyes flew wide as I realized how this must look to him. I couldn’t remember the last time Steven had seen me wear makeup. Or anything other than pajamas, for that matter. I gestured to Nick. “We’re not … I mean, he’s not…”
“This is the attorney?” Steven glowered, his blue eyes raking over Nick with a look of disgust.
“No,” Delia said. “He’s a policeman. Like Aunt Georgia.”
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