by Leroux, Lucy
Donovan laughed. “I would expect no less.”
“Thanks for understanding.” Chuckling, Ethan waved in the direction of the kitchen. “You’ll be happy to hear I stocked your fridge with beer. Why don’t we have a cold one and I’ll tell you about…everything.”
“Sound good.” Donovan lifted his briefcase. “Dinner’s on me if you’re up for African peanut stew. A patient gave me the fixings before I left for the airport.”
“And it got through customs?”
Donovan shrugged. “There’s no meat. It’s a vegetarian dish.”
Ethan hid his lack of enthusiasm, desperately wishing the steakhouse down the street delivered. But he pasted on a smile, then followed Donovan to the kitchen after detouring to put his gun in the safe. Then he began talking, starting at the beginning.
“I came home the night the blizzard hit, and there was a tiny pink Michelin Man in the hallway…”
He kept talking as the other man cooked, downing four beers between them—and only one was drunk by Ethan. Apparently, his friend had sorely missed American beer.
“You can stay here as long as you want,” Donovan said when Ethan was done explaining. “And by all means, don’t move out of the master bedroom. I don’t sleep there anyway.”
No, Ethan knew that. Donovan didn’t sleep in the same room he had shared with Sabrina, not anymore.
“I put Luna in the small bedroom next to the office. Yours, right?”
“No worries. I can crash in the spare room. Or better yet, I can go straight to the new apartment. That’s why I came home—to do my share of work on the building. Your emails made it clear you were drowning a bit without Mason.”
Ethan wrinkled his nose. “Oh, man, I didn’t mean for you to come home for that. We agreed Mason and I would take care of the renovation. Besides, your apartment is still in rough shape. The plumbing and heat work, but the floors are a mess and none of the cabinets are up.”
Donovan laughed aloud, stirring the peanuts and other ingredients in a wok. “Ethan, I spent the last three months living in a one-room shack with a dirt floor.”
He held up his fingers, thumb and index finger a hairsbreadth apart. “I came this close to getting stung by a scorpion on my unmentionables in the outhouse last week.”
Ethan grinned. “Well, in that case, you’ll be happy to hear I did manage to install the special Japanese toilet you insisted on. It works, too.”
“Then I’m not happy—I’m ecstatic.” Donovan pulled a serving bowl from one of the cupboards, transferring the contents from the wok. “And I don’t mind coming back to pitch in. I’m overdue for some time off.”
“But you’re a doctor, not a contractor.”
“And you’re an FBI agent,” Donovan countered. “I daresay I know a bit more about construction now than you do. The last few years involved building not one, but two clinics in the Sudan.”
“Not by yourself.” It was more of a question than a statement.
There was no telling how much support Donovan had out in Africa. But knowing his friend, he wouldn’t have let a lack of manpower stop him. If anything, Van would have stacked and mortared the bricks in place himself.
“I think I picked up enough. I know how to delegate.”
Ethan gave in, acknowledging the man’s trump card with a bow. “All right then, I stand corrected. Thanks for coming back. But I’m still allowed to be pissed at Mason for being MIA.”
“It sounds like he’s got his hands full in L.A.”
“I guess.” Mason hadn’t said much about what was holding him up, but it sounded like a friend needed help so Ethan couldn’t blame the guy—much.
Juliet appeared with Luna at the threshold. “Someone wanted to say hello.”
Donovan smiled at the appealing picture they made. Ethan walked over, taking the little girl from Juliet for a quick snuggle. “Hey, Little Moon, how was your nap?”
“Mama play me.”
Juliet ran her hands over the little girl’s damp curls. “We took advantage of someone else making dinner to have a bath, complete with the armada of boats you bought her. You have to stop buying her so many toys.”
“Aw, c’mon. If anyone deserves to be spoiled, it’s this little darling.”
Donovan laughed suddenly. “And here I thought you had confirmed bachelor tattooed to your forehead.”
Juliet blushed, but Ethan simply threw an arm around her and propelled her to the dining room. Donovan followed with the serving bowl. Ethan settled Luna in a chair with a booster, then went back and forth to help set up.
They settled down to eat. Juliet was a little shy and reticent at first, but she soon opened up. Ethan filled her in on Donovan’s plan to take over at the apartment building. She immediately wanted to help.
“I know all the crews now and what should be up next on their agenda,” Juliet offered. “If you’re going to be there, I can go back and be on-site to help out.”
Ethan didn’t like that. “Maybe we should hold off on you being out in the open just yet.”
Donovan cleared his throat. “I don’t mind looking after her. You know I can take care of myself. You taught me how.”
That much was true. When his friend said he was going abroad with Doctors Without Borders, Ethan had undertaken the task of teaching the man, a born pacifist, a little something about self-defense. And then Mason taught him offense.
Juliet looked at Ethan, hope lighting up her dark eyes. He wanted to groan aloud. He knew she was chafing under the restrictions of what amounted to house arrest. But he needed to be sure of her safety.
It was only a random man taking a picture, his mind nagged. But Ethan wasn’t quite ready to let her go out yet.
“Let’s give it another week,” he compromised. “If nothing suspicious happens at the new building until then, by all means, you can go back on-site—whenever Donovan is there.”
Juliet stifled a happy squeal. Her cheery mood was infectious, but Ethan couldn’t help wondering if he’d made the right call.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“You have to relax. She’s fine,” his partner said.
Ethan swiveled his office chair to glare at his roommate. Jason wore an exasperated expression—one Ethan hadn’t earned.
“I didn’t say anything,” he protested.
His partner scowled. “I can feel you worrying, and it’s making me antsy. And there’s no reason for it. If anything was wrong, Carter would have called.”
Ethan sighed. “I know, but it’s her first day back out in the world and I can’t help myself.” He checked the clock. “Donovan should be dropping her off soon. Once she calls, I’ll settle down. I promise.”
Donovan had picked her up, too. The door-to-door service was for Ethan’s peace of mind. Nothing had happened in the week and a half since Donovan had come home and resumed the renovation work. No strangers had appeared. Every workman was accounted for and had been subjected to a thorough second background check. The companies they’d contracted had promised not to send any unvetted staff to the building.
After he’d finished the background checks, he hadn’t had much cause to keep his girl confined anymore.
“You can’t keep Juliet under lock and key forever,” Jason was saying. “I realize Donovan’s old place is nice, but the poor girl must have been crawling the walls toward the end there.”
As part of the security precautions, Ethan hadn’t had his partner and his wife over, although God knew Juliet would have appreciated the company after Donovan decamped.
“No comment,” he said, checking his watch. It was too early to expect an update from Juliet. He better give it an hour. Maybe a half hour. Then he could call her himself.
Jason tossed the file he was holding back on his desk. “You’re going to be useless for the next few hours, aren’t you?”
They were supposed to be working on a new embezzling case, something not related to the Russians. It was still early days, but it was shaping up to be a fair-sized investigation
, which told Ethan he hadn’t burned through all his capital with the Angel quite yet.
Although if more bodies keep piling up, I might need to rethink that.
For the last few weeks, the Komarov crew had been roiling—dropping dead guys at an alarming rate. According to the gang unit, there was a deadly internal power struggle going on. The head of the family, Maksim Komarov, had been shot in the street outside one of his favorite hangouts. The old gangster’s personal security detail had swept him up and out of sight. Rumors were flying that he was dead, but Ethan wasn’t so sure. A crew as large as the Russians had private doctors, including surgeons, on staff. The old guy might have pulled through.
Ethan didn’t care if Maksim Komarov was dead or not. But Viktor might be. And if he wasn’t, just how many bodies was he responsible for?
Can’t worry about that now. Viktor hadn’t gotten in touch since disappearing from the Beacon Hill apartment. Ethan had to assume their association was severed. The only thing he could do was worry about his new case.
On that note, Ethan got back to work. He spent the next hour pulling backgrounds and doing research, all the while refusing to look at his watch.
He damn near ripped his pant pocket trying to get to his phone when the text alert sounded.
“Well?” Jason asked.
“Juliet is fine,” Ethan admitted sheepishly. “Nothing happened, aside from everyone doing their work. She wants to know if she should pick up Luna.”
He texted a reply, telling her that he would pick up the toddler. The new sitter was great, but she was a few subway stops away from the Beacon Hill place and he didn’t want to risk it.
Plus, this way, I can swing by and pick up dinner.
Unable to stop himself, he’d signed up for Omaha steaks, reasoning it wasn’t delivery because no one came to the house. He had arranged to have the meat sent to a local business down the block.
“Why don’t you take off now?” Jason suggested. “We can get away with skating on this case for another day or two.”
Ethan checked his watch, then winced. “You know what? That’s a good idea. The new babysitter’s hours are more flexible than the old daycare, but she charges an arm and a leg for any overtime.”
He was out the door before Jason could change his mind. Ethan headed for his SUV, whistling under his breath.
He drove on autopilot, doubling back and using evasive maneuvers to make sure no one followed him home. His mind was on eating a delicious juicy steak, which would hopefully be followed by hot steamy sex with his new fiancée if Luna cooperated and took a nap.
The police cars outside the babysitter’s place hit him like a bucket of cold water.
Ethan didn’t bother to find a space. He skidded to a stop by one of the cruisers, throwing the vehicle in park before running out to the first uniform he saw, his badge in hand.
“What happened?” he asked, going dark and grim instead of screaming his head off—which was what he wanted to do.
The uniform scanned Ethan’s credentials. “The woman who runs the daycare was attacked by two armed men. They took—”
Ethan pushed past him to the sobbing woman standing at the threshold. When she looked up, she began to cry harder. Ethan didn’t need to ask what had happened. He already knew.
Luna was gone.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman cried as he stopped in front of her. “They burst in and hit me, then ran off with her.”
“Who did? Did you recognize them?”
A huge bruise was blooming across her cheekbone, the eye above it swelling shut. “No. I didn’t see their faces. They were wearing masks.”
A plainclothes detective wearing a shield around his neck ran up the steps, alarmed to see a man of his size looming over the hapless woman.
“Hey, who are you?” he shouted. “What is your connection to this woman?”
Ethan took a deep breath. It felt as if his jaw had turned to stone, but he was still able to open his mouth to hiss, “My name is Ethan Thomas.”
He held up his badge. “The little girl they took—she was mine. They took my baby girl.”
* * *
Juliet hadn’t stopped crying since he got home and told her what happened.
She valiantly tried to keep her tears inside, but he could still see her clutching one of Donovan’s fine linen handkerchiefs to her face, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
His friend patted her back awkwardly. Despite years of living in war-torn countries, Donovan was obviously having a hard time finding the right words to comfort her. But at least he was trying to make her feel better because Ethan couldn’t. All he could do was plan and plot bloodshed. The only problem was he didn’t know who to direct his rage at.
“Are you sure it’s not the Russians?” Jason asked for the third time.
He and Rivera had arrived less than twenty minutes after Ethan had called them—which meant they had broken every traffic law in the book to get here so fast.
Other colleagues were on their way, too. They were going to set up a command center here at Donovan’s place. But he didn’t know what good that would do.
“I have no idea,” Ethan told Jason. “The kidnappers haven’t contacted us. There have been no threats and no ransom demands. We’re in the dark. It could be them or it could be Alvaro.”
His eyes were burning because they were so dry. But he couldn’t cry, and he definitely couldn’t break every piece of furniture in the room like he wanted to.
Luna may not have been his blood, but he loved that little girl as if she were his own. And he was going to get her back. He had to.
“We need to figure out who took her. We would have gotten an alert on Alvaro’s passport if he had crossed the border, so we have to assume it’s the Russians—some sort of retribution for helping Viktor. We need to track him down. The only problem with that is if we go in wherever he is, we’ll be marking him as a traitor to what’s left of the Komarovs and they’ll make us.”
“I’m still not convinced this is related to him at all.” Ethan was getting a splitting headache.
“Can I help?”
He blinked, surprised to see Donovan next to them. “I want to help, but aside from giving Juliet a tranquilizer, there’s nothing I can do here. But if you send me to wherever you think Viktor is, I can find him. I mean, even on a good day, no one would confuse me for an FBI agent.”
It was true. With his clean-cut preppy looks and gentle eyes, Donovan wouldn’t ever be confused for one, but that didn’t make it any safer for him.
Scowling, Ethan shook his head. “We don’t have any idea where he is. You’d be going in and out of dangerous clubs and gang bars for no reason.”
Jason looked behind them at the couch, then turned back, leaning over to whisper. “Actually, the tranquilizer idea might not be a bad one.”
“No.” Ethan’s reaction was instant. He couldn’t do that to Juliet. He didn’t want her to suffer, but if they heard something about Luna, she would never forgive herself—or him—if she was knocked out or too drowsy to hear the message.
“Well, until we hear something, I think you need to get your ass over there and help your woman deal with this because she’s hanging by a thread.” Donovan’s head drew back. “I know you and Jason here are used to going in, guns blazing, but you can’t. What you can do is go and comfort Juliet.”
Ethan closed his eyes. Of course Donovan was right. Ethan couldn’t do what he normally did in stressful situations. He was being an ass.
Grabbing one of the ridiculously overpriced bottles of brandy from the cabinet, he took a single glass and then went over to the couch. He took Juliet’s hand, tugging her up and leading her to the bedroom.
She sat on the bed with a thump. “This is all my fault.”
He kneeled in front of her, setting the bottle and glass on the floor. “No, it’s not. It’s mine.”
Ethan reached down for the bottle, pouring two fingers into the glass. He drank half of it,
then offered her the other half. She shook her head, but he pressed the glass into her hand. “Drink. It won’t be enough to get you drunk.”
He held the glass up to her lips, urging her to take a sip. She drank it all, shuddering as the alcohol burned its way down her throat.
“You aren’t responsible,” he reassured her, taking the empty glass from her unresisting hands. “For all we know, this is about Viktor. I should have never brought him here.”
“It’s not about him.”
“Until we hear a ransom demand, we won’t know. And if it is the Russian’s—even they wouldn’t hurt a baby,” he said, hoping he wasn’t lying.
Ethan had no idea what the penalties would be for Viktor, but he had to think the Komarovs would be crazy to hurt an FBI agent’s baby. They didn’t pull shit like that, not unless they wanted the full wrath of the agency coming down on them. Even without the restraining hand of Maksim Komarov, he didn’t think the rest of the crew would be that stupid.
“This isn’t happening because of Viktor. Alvaro must have found us. He sent someone here. They were watching us. At the first opportunity, they took her.”
Fresh tears welled in her eyes. Ethan took her into his arms, pressing her against his chest. “We are going to get her back. I am going to get her back.”
He was the one who had let this happen. It was his fault. Ethan was an experienced agent. Every time he had dropped off or picked up Luna, he had taken evasive maneuvers, trying to make sure no one discovered the location of the sitter’s or where they were staying…but, clearly, he hadn’t been careful enough.
Her amazing dark eyes red and swollen, she said, “What if we can’t? What if he’s taking her straight back to Mexico?”
No. His nemesis wouldn’t do that. “If it’s Alvaro, he will get in touch. He’s going to want that video back.”
Juliet shook her head. “Alvaro doesn’t even know it exists. I didn’t confront him with it. I took Luna and ran, bringing the nanny cam and video with me as insurance.”
His head drew back. “Oh, right.”
Ethan passed a hand roughly through his hair. Where the hell did that leave him?