Miranda spotted an ornate what-not case in the corner. It was filled with girlish dolls. They looked expensive. Irina Voloshyna, manager of Udar, was a doll collector? Okay.
On the other side of the desk, Miranda eyed the window. It was a classical arch style with dark blue velvet drapery, and adorned with rows of heavy gold tassels. The frame had a gold latch to go with it.
She peered out.
There was a five-foot drop to the roof of the building next door. No one out there looking in.
That was good, too.
She turned to the desk and paused when she saw a sharp letter opener lying on the blotter. She bet Irina liked to threaten her employees with that.
Keep going, she told herself. Focus.
Okay. There was a laptop. After glancing back at the door, she dared to wiggle the mouse. The screensaver stopped and a password field appeared. Where was Parker when she needed him?
No time for that. She gave up on the laptop and began opening drawers.
Tissues, make up, lipstick, hair ties, and a brush. The next drawer held leggings and a handheld mirror. Not too vain, was she?
The next one had pens, pencils, and what looked like a paperback novel. Miranda couldn’t be sure. The title was in Cyrillic.
One more drawer. The one on the right.
She pulled it open.
Bingo.
A set of flash drives were arranged in a neat row in a wooden organizer. No labels or markings. She counted five of them in various colors. What did that mean? Color coding? One for every weekday? If so, they might just be copies of each other.
If she took them all, it would be too obvious. If just one was missing, Irina might think she misplaced it.
As she stared down at them she wondered if Vlad had thought the same thing. If only he’d taken them all.
Okay, Gurka. I may not get you what you want, but at least I tried.
The silver one. It matched the drive they had.
She reached down, snatched it out of the organizer and stuffed it into the side pocket of her yoga pants.
Now to get out of here.
She was just closing the drawer, when the office door flew open and the lights came on.
She didn’t even have time to duck behind the desk.
Irina Voloshyna stood before her, glaring at her, black eyes blazing. “What are you doing in here?”
“I got lost.”
“You did not. Who are you?”
Miranda raised her palms. “Just another satisfied customer.”
With a grunt, Irina lunged for her.
Nowhere to run.
Miranda took the towel and tossed it in the woman’s face. While Irina sputtered and struggled with it, she reached for the window latch behind her.
She took one last look at the office and saw no other way out.
Only one way to escape.
She threw open the window, climbed onto the sill, and jumped into darkness.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The first thing Miranda felt was cold.
Bitter cold. Like jumping into a frozen lake in the winter.
The sweat from her workout felt like it was turning to icicles on her skin. With a big thud, she landed on her knee, and the concrete dug through her yoga pants, skinning her flesh. But at least the rough surface provided some friction.
Shivering, she rose and took stock of her situation.
The roof she stood on was drenched in darkness, but the lights from the street and bars below gave some illumination. The concrete stretched out before her in a long, rectangular shape. The pitch was low. Less than twenty degrees, she’d guess, sloping just a bit toward the far end for rain runoff. A decorative balustrade about a foot high ran around the edge of the roof. There was snow under the shafts, but the sun that day must have melted most of it away.
She hoped. How to get down from here?
As she was considering the possibilities, a shrill shout came from overhead.
Miranda looked up and saw Irina climbing out the window, coming down after her.
“Suka!” she screeched. “What did you steal? What did you take from me?”
Uh oh.
Miranda took off at a slow run, praying she didn’t slip and fall to her death. Making her way past exhaust vents and chimneys, after what seemed like an eternity, she was at the far edge of the roof.
She peered over the balustrade.
Maybe another five feet down was the span of the glass dome of Udar’s exercise area on the first floor. She blinked hard and made out a wide ledge running around the border of the dome. It even had a handrail. But there was a gap between the ledge and the building she stood on.
Could she make the jump? If she missed she’d go flying down into some alley several stories below.
Behind her, Irina’s footsteps were pounding on the concrete, coming closer.
No choice.
As best she could, she kicked away the snow along the bottom of the balustrade. Then holding tight to the concrete, she threw one leg over, then the other, until she was on the other side, her ankles between the railings.
As she bent her knees, she heard Irina getting closer.
Here we go.
She let go of the balustrade and leapt into the air.
Weee! Peter Pan had nothing on her. The sensation she felt would have been thrilling if this had been a carnival ride—with a belt around her waist for protection.
Right now, it was terrifying.
The dark surface of the dome’s perimeter seemed to zoom toward her. Was she was going to crash into the glass full force? Maybe she should rethink this.
Suddenly she slammed down onto the ledge, nearly knocking the breath out of herself.
But she was here.
And she was okay. No broken bones. Or at least, she didn’t think so.
Now what?
She got up and crouched, took a step forward. She could navigate this ledge.
Inching her way around the paved surface, one hand on the railing, the other stretched out for balance, again she searched for a way to climb down.
As the wide ledge curved around the dome, she peered through the glass. The exercise equipment and customers below were like figurines.
Then she started.
Parker was down there on the first floor. He was still talking to Sergei and Sokol, from what she could make out.
He glanced up, and she could have sworn he spotted her. But there was no time to figure that out.
A shot cracked through the air behind her.
“Suka! Thief!”
Suka. Must be Ukrainian for bitch.
Miranda spun and saw Irina holster the gun she’d just fired. She was about to make the same jump to the circular ledge.
Good grief, that woman was relentless. Miranda hurried around the dome, hoping to find someplace, any place to get down and away from the crazy bitch.
On the other side of the circumference she found it—the low pitched roof of the neighboring building. This one was only about three feet down.
She could make it. If she didn’t slip on the ice clinging to the clay shingles.
No time to think about that. She climbed over the railing, steadied herself once again, and made the leap.
She came down hard, her legs on one side of the lower roof’s apex, her upper body on the other. Her palms had scraped the clay and were bleeding.
Ignoring the pain, she got up, positioned her legs on either side of the peak, and scrambled to the other side of the building. Peering over the edge, she had a rush of vertigo. She had reached the end of the block, and the structure went straight down to the pavement.
Right where she was going if she couldn’t find a way down.
Her breath coming in ragged snatches, she forced herself to think. Before her was a decorative spire that formed a sort of cap to the building. Leaning over it again, she peered into the darkness.
Yes. Just below her was one of those fancy iron-rail balconies. She could
hang onto the spire cap and drop right down onto it.
If she got the angle right.
A blast of wind made her shiver again. Then she saw Irina had reached the other end of the roof she was on.
She took hold of the spire cap, lifted her legs, and swung her body over. She dangled there in the air, her aching arms protesting in pain.
She began to swing her body like a trapeze artist. Had to get it right. One. Two.
She closed her eyes and let go.
Her feet hit the floor of the balcony with a clang, and she nearly got the wind knocked out of her as her body slammed against the rails.
But she was okay. She wasn’t a grease spot on the pavement below.
She peered through the bars. There was another matching balcony directly below her. Her luck was turning. That one would be easier to get to.
Hanging onto the rails, she pulled herself over and swung onto the second floor. Easy peasy.
Suddenly another shot rang out from above. Irina stood on the roof just over her, weapon in both hands.
She screamed something in Ukrainian, stuffed the gun into her belt, and started over the cap. The next second she was on the third story balcony right over Miranda’s head.
Miranda hurried to the building’s side, pressed herself against. How was she going to get down now?
If she moved, she’d be in Irina’s line of sight, and the crazy woman would shoot her.
Heart pounding, from where she stood, she peered down over the railing and spotted a canvas awning just below her. It looked steady. Could she make it there?
Irina clattered on the balcony above her.
Do something, she told herself.
She had to risk it. It might not work, but it was better than standing here.
Just as she swung a leg over the railing near the wall, another shot rang out.
She heard Irina squeal.
Wait. That shot hadn’t come from above.
Miranda looked down past the awning and into the dark alley.
A man in a heavy coat with a gun in his hand stood below her, his weapon pointed at the balcony over her head.
Parker.
He hurried to a spot under the awning and held out his arms. “Do it, Miranda.”
Okay. The sound of his voice gave her a boost of courage. She let go of the railing, slipped down onto the awning, and slid right into his arms.
She looked up and saw Irina disappearing over the top of the building.
She pressed her face to Parker’s cheek. Man, he felt good. “What took you so long?”
“The GPS was slow.”
He set her down on the ground, bundled her up in her coat, and they hurried to the BMW, which was waiting for them at the curb.
Safe inside the vehicle, with the heat on high, Miranda reached into the pocket of her yoga pants.
It was still there.
She pulled out the flash drive and held it out to Parker. “Look what I have.”
He had to smile. “I expected nothing less.”
He leaned over to kiss her, then he put the car in drive, and they rushed off into the Ukrainian night.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Back inside their hotel suite, a nice hot shower was in order. The bath Miranda had had earlier had been canceled out by her workout-from-hell and sprint over the rooftops.
Dressed in a white terrycloth robe, with her hair wrapped in a towel, she opened the bathroom door and found Parker at the luxury desk in the sitting area, peering at the laptop he had brought from home.
He hadn’t even taken off his suit coat.
She went to the elegant sofa across from him and stretched out on it. “Don’t you want a break after what we’ve been through?”
“I didn’t realize you took breaks.”
Scowling at him, she rolled over onto her stomach. “Speaking of breaks, my body feels like what’s left on the bottom of a potato chip bag.”
That got him out of his seat. “Is anything broken?” Gently he touched her arm.
She sat up, groaned a little with the effort. “I’m okay.”
“Any sprains?” He began to examine her like a doctor.
She reached for his hand. “I’m just sore. I don’t think I’ve got any serious injuries.”
He took her chin in his hand and fixed her with his powerful gaze. “Do you know how hard it was to watch you go through what you did tonight?”
His concern made her smile. “Do you know how hard it was to go through it?”
He didn’t like her flippant answer, but he kissed her tenderly, stroked her hair as lightly as a summer breeze.
Usually she didn’t want him to treat her as if she were made out of China. Tonight was an exception.
As his lips touched her hair, he murmured, “I wanted to jump into that ring and give Sokol a taste of his own medicine.”
Miranda smirked. “I thought I handled him pretty well.”
“You did. As always, you were a valiant warrior.”
She took his hand and pressed it to her cheek. A little too hard. “Ouch.”
“You did that to yourself.”
“I know. I’m a glutton for punishment.”
He turned her hand over. “You’re cut.”
“Yeah. This one, too.” She showed him her other hand, then pulled back the robe to reveal her skinned knees. “That’s what I get for running around on rooftops in the middle of the night.”
“Oh, my darling. I’ll get the ointment.” He went to his bag and fetched a tube of the stuff. Gently he applied it to her palms and knees.
“That feels better.” She kissed the back of his hand. Then she stopped when she saw his stern look.
“When I looked up and saw you through the dome of Udar tonight, I knew I shouldn’t have let you go through with this plan.”
“We didn’t know Irina was there.”
“Sergei lied when he said she wasn’t in. I didn’t see her on the floor.”
Miranda lifted a shoulder and winced. “Maybe she came in some back way.” She didn’t want to argue about it. “So what’s on that flash drive?”
Parker held her gaze for another long moment. He knew she was changing the subject, but he didn’t want to fight after what she’d been through, either.
“Let me show you.” He helped her up in his genteel way and led her over to the desk.
He pulled up a chair for her and they both sat.
Parker touched the mouse, entered his password, and a spreadsheet appeared filled with Cyrillic letters.
“Is that the same file as the one we saw in Gurka’s office?”
“I believe so. But I was able to do this with it.” He brought up an app, entered some text, clicked again.
Suddenly the unreadable text turned to Roman letters.
“Hey, that’s pretty cool.”
The corner of his lip turned up. “I don’t find a use for that application very often, but sometimes it comes in handy.” Then his smile faded. “I’m afraid these names still don’t tell us much.”
Parker did a search and entered the name Ilya Elkovich Dudnik. He clicked the button and the cell became highlighted.
“It’s a copy.” Her shoulders sank. “I was afraid that drive was the same as the one Gurka has. There were five of them in Irina’s drawer, but I didn’t want to risk taking them all. If I’d known she was going to catch me, I would have.”
“You couldn’t have known.” Parker did a search for the name Sasha Pavlovych. The “Not Found” message appeared.
“Tell me about it,” Miranda muttered to the message. “It’s coming up with the same thing we are. Nothing.”
Parker stared at the screen in silence. Miranda could feel the sense of despair going through him.
She thought a moment. “Is Vlad’s name on that list?”
Parker entered variations on Vladislav Stefanyk Zelenko. Vlad Zelenko. Vladislav.
Not found. Not found. Not found.
“Apparently not.” He sounde
d so tired.
“So this isn’t a list of targets or of Udar’s kills.”
“No. Most likely it’s a list of manufactured identities.”
“That doesn’t help us much.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Parker sat back and closed the file.
“Maybe Sasha never went to Udar.”
“Maybe. I called the Inspector while you were in the shower and informed him of the results of tonight’s mission.”
“Bet he was thrilled.”
“He’s taking it in stride.”
She sat up. “Hey. What about Gurka’s men back at the club? Aren’t they going to arrest Irina for shooting at me?
“One of the officers told me they were under orders not to arrest anyone unless there was proof of criminal activity.”
Miranda smirked. “Chasing someone across rooftops and trying to kill them isn’t a criminal activity?”
“The Inspector meant something to tie them to the murders of Vlad and Rinat, and to prove their criminal enterprises.”
“Yeah, I know.” She got up and started to slide the chair back against the wall. Then she hesitated. “Are you sure there’s nothing else on that drive?”
He opened the folder on the drive and studied it. “There’s only one file. Names.”
Just like the one from Vlad’s satchel the police had pulled out of the river.
Suddenly Parker sat forward. “Let me try something.”
He right-clicked on the white space, did a little maneuvering, and suddenly another file appeared.
Miranda leaned over his shoulder. “What’s that?”
“It was hidden.”
“A hidden file?” And its name was in Cyrillic, of course.
Parker double-clicked it, and a warning screen popped up. “It’s password protected and encrypted.”
She let out a sigh. “So now what?”
“I have an app that can break the password and go through several dozen encryption algorithms, but it will take until the morning to run.”
She was tired of roadblocks. And exhausted in general. That file was probably nothing more than Irina’s grocery list. “Let’s go to bed then.”
“Excellent suggestion.” Parker brought up the app, got it running, and got ready for bed.
Vanishing Act Page 16