The Ultimate Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Bestsellers)

by Perkins, Cathy

  Never having lived in a college dorm, neither Nicki nor Katya was prepared for the pandemonium of the women’s private suite, as the flock of Gen Y’s or Y-Not’s? (as they often dubbed themselves) put finishing touches on their astonishing attires. The shrieking young women were decked out in every type of dress imaginable… and in some cases, undress. The only consistent element was that every outfit was straight out of a well-known design studio, and screamed of overindulgent parental money. Even among such frivolous excess, Nicki’s outfit stood out. She became an instant hit among the young women. While some were openly envious, most were simply in awe. Her obvious knowledge of couture quickly made her the go-to expert on everything, from which lip gloss to wear to whether panty lines were showing.

  As excessive as the clothing and other accessories were, they were nothing compared to the array of designer drugs decorating every available surface in the central living areas and along the pool deck. Drug paraphernalia, much of which even Nicki didn’t recognize, along with enough hallucinogens and prescription drugs that, had they been legal, they’d have filled a Walmart pharmacy. The only item in relatively short supply was alcohol. Nicki concluded that that these overindulged young people disdained their parents’ customary medicating substances for the instant gratification of a line of coke, a vial of crack or some other quick-acting designer opiate.

  Expecting to see obvious thugs, or at least a few Russian-speaking mafioso types, both Nicki and Katya were surprised that the guards looked more like Aiden than they did the multi-racial gangbangers that the Volkov had used to terrify the parents of the kidnapped girls. While none of them could compete with the sheer gorgeousness of their leader, the men that Nicki quickly identified as armed and dangerous ranged from All-American jock types to downright prepsters. Only the tell-tale bulges at their ankles, and their darting eyes, gave them away. Nicki conveyed to the team next door her count; there were twenty to thirty armed, shifty-eyed pretenders among the 100+ guests. Notably absent were Sophia, Hillary and Cindy.

  Under Nicki’s watchful eye, a pattern began to emerge. The larger, more muscular of the guards began focusing their attentions on a particular type of girl. They were beautiful, of course, curvy with large breasts and showgirl legs. But their defining feature was their hair color. Almost all of the girls had blond hair. Nicki was the only redhead in the group. The dark haired girls getting attention from the watchers were exotic like Katya, and met all the other requirements of mature men’s fantasies. Nicki was confident these were the girls being considered for auction. She snapped their pictures on her bracelet camera and relayed them to Rafe’s team along with pictures of the men she’d identified as Aiden’s muscle.

  It was a good thing she was as skilled at subterfuge as she was, because Aiden became her shadow. Clearly intrigued, he peppered her with dozens of questions. About her background, her parents, where she went to school, where in the world she had travelled, etc. etc. Answering the barrage of questions Nicki once again sent a silent thank you to Rafe. He’d insisted that she absorb the details of an entirely new persona complete with a facebook, twitter and pinterest presence as well as a family, academic and travel history that would fool even the most enterprising spy. She’d been annoyed and frustrated by Rafe’s attention to minutia… nevertheless she’d learned to spit out the facts of ‘her life’ as glibly as if she truly was Mindy’s twenty-two-year-old second cousin. Aiden appeared to buy it wholesale.

  Feeling the operation could not be going more smoothly, and with Aiden’s curiosity pacified, Nicki looked to slip away. She found an alcove, near a doorway to an empty hallway, and managed to slide inside, escaping Aiden’s hovering presence for the moment. Then she saw a man moving toward her. She was immediately struck by how out of place he seemed; oh, his clothes were expensive enough, and he wasn’t ugly… but compared to the young beautiful crowd, he looked… odd. Tall, heavy and swarthy skinned, he appeared to be at least fifty. His features were coarse, Slavic, and, Nicki realized with a jolt, Russian. A shiver of fear mingled with excitement raced through her. He had to be Volkov. If she was surprised to see him, it was nothing compared to his reaction when he saw her. His eyes widened, his jaw slackened. He blanched, then visibly swallowed before he spoke. The word he whispered changed Nicki’s life forever.

  “Tatiana.”

  Nicki’s mother’s name.

  Grasping for control, Nicki clung to the door frame.

  “Who…who are you?”

  He ignored her question and stepped closer. The emotions on his face ranged from horror, to shock and then to stunned recognition.

  “Bozhe moy! You…you are her.”

  Nicki’s mouth was too dry to swallow. She battled to maintain her cool professionalism, but couldn’t find her breath. Gasping for air she forced herself to speak calmly.

  “I asked you, who are you? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  He put up his hand as if to reassure her.

  “I.…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to frighten you. It is just that you are so much like her. Your hair, your eyes. They are hers.”

  Nicki asked, afraid of the answer.

  “Who? Like who?”

  “Your mother, Tatiana. Tatiana Petrakov.”

  Nicki’s heart pounded so hard, she was sure it would burst through her chest.

  “No. No. You are mistaken. My mother is dead. She died when I was born, giving birth to me.”

  The Russian man shook his head so violently, his thick black hair fell across his forehead.

  “No, no, that is a lie. A lie your father told you.”

  Nicki stared at him. She felt drunk, or drugged. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Rafe, the mission, the girls… everything else flew from her head, save for an uncontrollable need to know.

  “What are you saying? You know my father? My mother? Please, please, tell me. Is…is my mother alive?”

  The big man grabbed her by the arm. Sweat beaded on his lip. His hands were shaking. He dragged her into the hallway. His voice was gruff, harsh.

  “Listen to me. I don’t want to frighten you. I’m sorry. But you must come with me. Now. I will take you to your mother, but you must come now. You…we…we can’t let him see us.”

  Nicki tried to free her arm, but he held tight. She peeked into the living room and saw Aiden weaving his way through the crowd, looking from side to side. Nicki was certain he was searching for her. Relief flooded her when he walked past the alcove out to the pool area.

  Nicki knew that she shouldn’t go with this stranger. She’d promised Katya and, oh God, she had promised Rafe. But she couldn’t make sense of what the Russian man was saying. He knew her father? Her mother? Oh God, please help me. Her prayer ricocheted around in her fevered brain.

  The Russian man led her quickly down the long hallway. When they heard someone coming behind them, he jerked on her arm and ducked into a sitting room, yanking her after him like a ragdoll. Giving her a little shove he closed, then locked the door. When he turned back to Nicki he was holding a gun. Pointed at her.

  A thousand thoughts and recriminations raced through her head. She forced herself to focus; not to think about all she had done wrong, but instead what she had to do now. She struggled for calm, sizing him up, determining how to attack a deranged man pointing a military grade Sig Sauer at her heart. Buying time, she glared at him.

  “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

  An ugly grin puckered his face.

  “What do I want with you? I want redemption. No, Nikita, I want revenge.”

  Nicki didn’t know what was more frightening—the sudden glee in his voice, the manic gleam in his eyes, or that he knew her name. Knowing she had no time to decipher the meaning of the crisis, she eased into a crouch.

  He nodded to something behind her but Nicki didn’t dare turn away, she had to keep him in focus. There was a rushing sound and a loud, ugly crack. A hideous pain brought her to her knees as something struck the back of her head.


  Aiden stared at the woman on the floor, blood seeping from the gash on her head. He’d seen Boris drag the red-haired woman into the room, and was stunned to see the big Russian holding a gun on her. Rather than let the asshole kill her, he’d decided to take her down. He hit her with the handle of his gun, not hard enough to kill her, but enough to give her a hell of a headache when she woke up.

  He glared at Boris, aiming his gun at the big man. Boris had lowered his own gun, not paying any attention to Aiden. He was gazing at the woman on the floor, almost in wonder. Aiden was taken back at the frenzied look in Boris’s eyes.

  Ignoring Aiden, Boris rushed over to Nicki’s slack body. The Russian pulled a Swiss army knife from his pocket… and commenced tearing at her clothes.

  Aiden scowled. “What the hell are you doing, Boss Man? Are you nuts?!”

  Boris snatched the bracelet off Nicki’s arm muttering gleefully.

  “Aha! A clever little camera. Hello, little camera. And where there is a camera, there is a recorder, yes?”

  After ripping her tank top, Boris cut off Nicki’s bra. Holding up a tiny microphone, he shrieked triumphantly.

  “You see! And look, there is more!”

  Groaning with perverse excitement, he sliced open the seams on her pants, exposing a second microphone. Using one of Nicki’s high heels as a hammer, Boris smashed both microphones into powder. With a growl, he stripped off her remaining clothes, leaving only her panties.

  Aiden was staring at him as though he were a mad man. “Are you as crazy as you look, asshole? Who the hell is she? And how the fuck did you know she was wired?”

  Boris stared at Aiden as if he were the crazy one.

  “Do you know who this is? This is Yuri Petrakov’s daughter.”

  At Aiden’s blank look, the Russian’s voice filled with scorn.

  “You ignorant guttersnipe. If that name means nothing, you cretin, perhaps you’ve heard of Simon Industries, or PetroCo International, or any other of the dozens of international companies that Yuri Petrakov controls. In the event that you are capable of understanding, the woman lying on the floor is worth roughly fifty million dollars. Minimum!”

  Heaping Nicki’s clothes and the smashed equipment in a pile, Boris tore her tank top into long strips and tied her hands behind her back. He positioned her body so her bare breasts and the gash on the back of her head were in view. He snapped a picture with the tiny camera, texted a message, then pushed ‘send’.

  Aiden stared at him in disbelief.

  “Hell, old man, you are full of surprises. I presume it’s occurred to you that if she’s wired up like this, there’s likely more out there with the same equipment. No telling where the guys on the other end are. We better boogie, Boss Man. Watch my back. When we get to the penthouse, you can tell me who the hell this is and how we’re gonna make fifty million dollars from one little pussy.”

  He reached down, hoisted Nicki over his shoulder, and darted down the hall to the door leading to the roof.

  ~~~

  Katya looked around nervously for Nicki. They’d stayed within several feet of each other since they arrived. When she had to go to the bathroom, Nicki shrugged and whispered, “Go ahead. I’ll be right here.”

  Heading back toward the room where she’d left Nicki, Katya was accosted by two of the fiercer-looking guards. The one with the dirt blond hair and bulging biceps gave her a tight smile.

  “We’ve been looking for you, Mindy. Aiden wants to see you. He’s waiting out by the pool. Come, I’ll show you where he is.”

  He took hold of her arm and steered her toward the patio door.

  After ten minutes chatting with the drugged out party goers by the pool, Katya managed to get free from the two men who must have been assigned to watch her. Pleading for a bathroom break, she sauntered off—heading for the room where she last saw Nicki. Pushing her way through groups of noisy young people, her anxiety flared. It wasn’t as though you could overlook Nicki in a crowd. That red hair was impossible to miss. Trying to hide her concern, Katya asked several people if they had seen her friend. Most of them just stared vacantly, as if remembering their own name was a problem.

  One dark-haired woman who wasn’t as wasted as her friends frowned and actually looked as if she were thinking.

  “Oh, the redhead in that smashing Dolce? Yeah, I saw her about fifteen minutes ago. She was with that weird-looking Russian guy. You know, the big one with the fat gut?”

  She giggled. “I think he’s our host. At least he’s got great blow. As long as we don’t have to spend time with him. But yes, I saw your friend go with him down that hallway.”

  Katya did her best to conceal her panic when she heard Rafe’s voice in her earpiece. His words sent her fears into the stratosphere.

  “Katya, we’ve lost contact with Nicki. Where is she? Are you with her?”

  In a loud voice meant for Rafe to hear, Katya asked the girl, “That hallway? That’s where you saw my redheaded friend with the big Russian man?”

  Katya pasted a false smile on her face, picked her way through the clusters of oblivious partiers, and headed for the doorway the girl had pointed to. She waited until turning the corner before breaking into a quick jog. She ran down the empty hallway calling for Nicki, then stopped at an open door. To her horror she saw the pile of Nicki’s shredded clothes, the smashed communication devices, and the telltale stains on the floor.

  Barely caring if anyone heard her, she punched in Rafe’s channel.

  “Oh God, Rafe! Oh my God, help! Help me. They have her. They have Nicki! Her…her clothes, her camera… oh God, there’s blood!”

  Rafe’s heart thumped painfully against his chest. The last recording they’d had from Nicki was now seven minutes old. He didn’t try to decipher it—it was clear the Russian man talking to her knew her and knew her well. Rafe had practically shouted in her ear to ask what the hell was going on. But she hadn’t answered. Now her line was dead. He didn’t have to hear Katya’s frantic voice to know what she had found. He already knew.

  Suddenly, Rafe realized he’d missed a message that had come in several minutes earlier. Opening the email, he saw a hideous picture. The text message accompanying the picture of Nicki’s body was even more chilling. “Please tell Yuri we will take as good care of his daughter as we did his wife. Volkov.”

  The whirr of helicopter blades whipping through the peaceful afternoon drowned out Katya’s sobs. Looking up, Rafe saw the EC135Eurocopter heading toward the Long Island Sound. Pain tore at his gut. His worst nightmare had come true: Volkov had Nicki, and Rafe had no way to find her.

  Chapter 32

  Barking orders to his team that was already in high gear, Rafe focused on Katya.

  “Katya, we need to get you out of there immediately. Do you hear me? I’m turning you over to Caleb. He will tell you exactly what to do.”

  Rafe half listened to Caleb’s orders as he replayed the last message they’d had on Nicki’s channel. They’d amplified it so they could clearly hear the man’s voice, as well as Nicki’s shocked responses. What the hell was this about her mother? Yuri told him she’d died giving birth to Nicki. Now this Russian prick said she was alive?

  Caleb nudged him with a scowl.

  “Katya won’t listen, Rafe. She’s hysterical. Insists she has to stay, to get to the auction.”

  Rafe called up Katya’s channel.

  “Katya, this is Rafe.”

  “Rafe, please. I have to stay. I have to get to the auction. How else will we know where she is? All of her GPS tracking devices are here. Please, Rafe….”

  Rafe’s voice was soft, but edged with danger.

  “Katya. Listen. To. Me. Now.”

  “No, no, Rafe, please….”

  “Katya Yashim. I want you to listen to what I am saying as if your life depended on it—because it does. Your cover is blown. I’m going to say this once. If I have to say it twice you are finished with ISA. Do you understand? I’ll take your silence
for an affirmative. I want your ass over by the shed next to the fence within fifteen seconds. Danny tossed you a rope ladder. Do you see it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I want you up and over that fence, now! And so help me God, you better be within ten feet of me by the time I count to thirty. Got it?”

  Caleb was jubilant.

  “There she is, Boss!” He added with a scowl. “Damn what is it about women that make them think they have to question every fucking order?”

  Rafe expelled a large breath of air.

  “They’re women. That’s why. I’ve been told that is enough of a reason. Get Vlad on the line.”

  When Katya saw him, she ran to him and burst into tears.

  “Oh God, Rafe. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I should never have left her. I thought I’d be right back. But those men pulled me away. I didn’t know what to do and I thought Nicki just went back to the party. Oh God, Rafe, where is she? Do we know?”

  Rafe held her in his arms. He didn’t know when he had been more scared, or more angry. He forced himself not to take it out on Katya.

  “Listen to me, sweetheart. You did the best you could.”

  Katya sobbed.

  “But I shouldn’t have left her. I should have insisted she come with me. I should have…”

  “Stop, Katya. We can’t do anything about it now. We have to move forward. First we have to raid that fucking party and get all those young people out of there. Then, we need to take down every one of those armed and dangerous men; and while ISA and the NYPD are doing that, I’m going to talk to a certain Russian who has a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”

  Caleb came over and held out his cell phone.

  “Here you go, Katya. I got Vlad on the line. You know sweet cakes, I always look on the bright side and I gotta say, it’s a damn good thing there’s fifteen hundred miles between you and Vlad or I’m not sure you’d survive this conversation, at least initially.”