by Ethan Egorov
And yet, there was also an opportunity to look at this as a gift, to see this as a chance to uncover more information. In that regard, Trent would be foolish not to take the room. It probably would have been cleaned, but even if just one thing was off, it could mean something.
He couldn’t say for sure, though, if Tommy felt the same way. But perhaps that was for the best. Having one person be paranoid and one person push forward provided a nice balance.
“Let’s go check it out,” Trent said, though Tommy showed no concern on his face. “Then, we’ll go see if Dad has heard anything about Kristina.”
They opened the door and Trent walked into the room with his gun leveled. He didn’t know what to expect, but he knew that he wasn’t going to be caught off guard like he had the last time he had walked in.
Much to his surprise, the room still looked as it had the night before. The suite hadn’t been rearranged, and there was still a half-full bottle of champagne in the chiller, meaning Kristina hadn’t gotten drunk before she left. It was almost like whoever had booked it for the previous night had deliberately told the housing staff not to clean it like they were trying to hide something in there.
But if that were the case, then why did they not clean the room after? Had whoever was setting this up known they would try to come? If that was so, it suggested they wanted Trent to discover them. But why?
“Hey, Trent, look at this.”
Tommy walked over to the corner, where a wingback chair sat with a painting behind it. It felt out of place, so he moved it to reveal a bullet hole in the wall.
“Oh, yeah,” Trent said, oddly proud of the fact that Tommy finally knew the truth.
“There it is. See, I told you I’d been shot at yesterday.”
Tommy stared at the hole, baffled. Trent supposed that Tommy still had trouble believing that had actually transpired.
“What does this look like to you?” Tommy finally said. “Nine millimeter?”
Trent couldn’t believe that.
He had assumed a sniper had shot at him. If so . . . someone was trying to be much more subtle with a nine millimeter if they were shooting at him from that far away. They also had to have known the bullets would have missed, or, at best, only hit Trent by complete accident.
“We know a nine-millimeter is only used for handguns, so a sniper is out of the question. We’re looking at someone with boots on the ground. Or the floor, as it were. Did Kristina say anything else about who hired her?”
This was getting more and more confusing for Trent. Had the bullets only been meant to scare him? And if so, why was someone in the hallway trying to shoot him? Was this all just some sort of elaborate set-up?
“No,” Trent said, trying not to get bogged down in his head with details. “She just said she was here for a job and then they canceled. That was, of course, after we got shot at.”
“Was she acting funny or anything?” Tommy said.
“I don’t know. I was feeling a little drunk, I guess. We’d been drinking the champagne.”
And that’s when it started to click.
“Wait, the champagne,” Trent said. “You remember me telling you how I didn’t feel right? Do you think Kristina was drugged before she had a chance to make it to the airport?”
Trent was starting to suspect he was more right than he wanted to admit.
“I think you’re onto something, brother. I don’t think this champagne’s been touched since we were up here, but someone had access to drugs that could have knocked her out.”
If not drugs, maybe something else. Maybe they gave her some water, and it hit her.
“We’ll take this and meet back up with Dad. I think there’s more to her disappearance than just some kind of strange ransom tactics.”
Trent hated to leave the hotel without doing further work, but for now, the work they were doing was apparently enough to make Tommy, a neutral observer, believe they had enough to meet with their father.
When Trent and Tommy went into the mansion, they saw their father sitting at his desk on the phone. His head was lowered, and he was speaking in a rather low, hushed tone. When he ended the conversation, Trent watched as he sighed and hung his head lower. He motioned them in with the back of his hand, still not looking up.
“Please tell me you have some good news for me?”
What is going on with Dad?
“Not exactly good news, but we think we may have figured out what happened. What was that about, Pop?”
“I’m afraid it’s not good.”
The seriousness on his face suggested this wasn’t just bad news like “Mom overcooked the lasagna.” It suggested genuine bad news.
“Saul’s wife died this morning.”
Oh, fuck . . .
Cruel, as it might be, a part of Trent wished Lucille had never woken up when Saul started speaking to her. He knew that had given him hope, and he knew that a stab wound like the one she had suffered often proved fatal. He hated to think of what Saul was going through right now, feelings doubly compounded by the fact she had appeared to be getting better.
Maybe, someday, he would be grateful that he got to speak to her one last time, but for the moment, it just felt like a cruel kick to the head.
“She was still in intensive care, and it seems like the shock was just too much for her system. Saul expects us all to be at the burial and graveside services, and we will be.”
Poor Saul. Can’t even imagine . . .
“For now, though, we’ve got to get our ducks in a row. We’ve got to find Kristina, find the murderer, and end this war for good. After that, we help our old friend bury his wife. Understood?”
There was no hesitation. There wasn’t room for it. At this point, Trent was all in. Whatever it took to find Lucille’s killer is what Trent would do.
“Yes, sir,” both Salvatores said.
“Good. Now, please tell me you’ve found Kristina. Please give me something to work with here.”
Well, guess we all have some bad news.
“Not exactly,” Trent said. “We did go back to the hotel where she was staying, though, and we have a few theories. We think someone drugged her. I got drugged from the champagne last night, and though there wasn’t any more of it consumed, I think whoever set us up has something on her.”
“Well, that would explain the lack of anyone laying in her wake,” Antonio said with a forced, humorless chuckle. “Normally, the bodies would have lined the stairway out of the hotel if she were capable of fighting back. What else do you have for me?”
“That’s it, Dad.”
Antonio nodded, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled. Though it was impossible to say he was relaxed, he did seem a little less on-edge and weary now that he had more information. Or, conversely, Antonio had just reached a point where it was impossible for him to feel more stressed.
“So, we know she’s been drugged, and we don’t know where she is. We know some personal items were stolen from us, and we know Saul’s wife has met her maker.”
“We also know Kristina didn’t get on that plane, so that’s a plus, right?” Trent said. “I mean, in one sense of the word.”
“Yes, you’re right, Trent,” Antonio said. “If she were drugged, that means they wouldn’t have been able to get very far until she woke up and, of course, starting raising bloody hell, so that means she’s probably still somewhere in the state at least. Maybe even in the city.”
Trent started to feel a glimmer of hope that they might yet find her.Trent and Tommy pulled out a map of the city and laid it flat against the table
“Let’s mark off the areas we know Kristina wouldn’t be at,” Tommy said. “For example, we know she didn’t come here. We also know she didn’t make it to the airport, so we can cross out that location as well.”
And then Trent had an idea.
“What about the hospital? Maybe she went to visit Saul.”
It seemed so innocuous an idea, and yet the immediate rea
ction from his brother and father suggested he might have just hit the nail on the head.
“You’re a genius, Trent.”
Unfortunately, just because Trent may have been a genius, that didn’t mean what they would have to do was easy. In fact, in some ways, following through on this was extraordinarily difficult.
They pulled up in front of Saul’s building and were surprised to find there wasn’t even anyone standing at the base of the building as security. Despite his wealth and affluence, Saul and his wife chose to live rather simply, not moving from the apartment building they lived in since the start of his career. But the bigger concern was that there was violence afoot in the town, and Saul simply seemed to resign himself to whatever might follow.
Trent and Tommy walked upstairs and stood in front of Saul’s doorway, ringing the bell. A buzzer echoed in the apartment, and they heard a rush of shuffling inside. Before he could answer the door, they heard the distinctive sound of glass shattering on the floor.
“Hey, Saul, it’s Trent! You okay in there?”
There was a barrage of profanities hurled through the air before Saul opened the door a crack. Seeing it was Tommy and Trent, he met the men with an exhausted smile, one that Trent knew was merely for show and nothing else.
“Come on in,” Saul said. “It’s cold out there. Shouldn’t go out there if you don’t have to.”
“What was that we heard?” Trent said as he examined the room, not seeing anything of particular trouble to that point. “You okay in here? You need some help?”
“You know me, I’m all thumbs when it comes to anything in the kitchen. I just dropped a glass while pouring a drink is all. I was looking for a broo—“
Before he could continue, Tommy walked to the kitchen table and sat down while Trent immediately saw what had happened. In the corner, Saul had knocked over a glass of flowers. He went to the corner of the kitchen and found a broom and dustpan. He quickly swept up the broken shards of glass, depositing them in the half-full trashcan.
With that done, it was time to get to the tough part of this visit.
“We’re awfully sorry to hear about your wife,” Trent said, which drew a long, sad sigh from Saul. “She was a wonderful lady, and she touched many lives. Tommy and I and, of course, Dad and Pop will all be at her services.”
“Thank you,” Saul said meekly, but then something seemed to click in him. “What about Kristina?”
Trent looked to Tommy for the okay to speak. If Saul had been the one to broach the issue, then Trent saw no reason they couldn’t discuss it.
“I hate to bring this up, especially at a time like this, but Saul, she’s gone missing.”
“What?” Saul said, starting to crack. “How can that be?”
“Well, I guess I should say she’s been kidnapped,” Trent said, deciding to get right to it. “She was supposed to be on a flight to New Zealand but never made it. We don’t know what happened or who has her right now. We wanted to know whether she stopped by the hospital last night to see your wife?”
“I’m afraid not, boys,” Saul said with a sigh. “I just spent the evening with my wife, and . . . and . . .”
A brief pause came as Saul contemplated his lost wife. Both Trent and Tommy respectfully kept their silence, giving the old man a chance to deal with his thoughts properly.
“Honestly, Trent, I just don’t know how I’m supposed to go on without her,” Saul said, starting to tear up. “We’ve spent over half our lives together. I’m still waiting for her to pop through the door and roll her eyes at me for not even trying to make dinner.”
Tommy and Trent nodded to Saul, recognizing he wasn’t in any shape to talk further. They each gave him a long hug before letting Saul know they were only a phone call away. He nodded his head at them and wiped tears that flowed on their own accord on the back of his hands. As Trent closed the door behind them, they heard him once again, fumbling around in the kitchen and cursing loudly.
Can’t even imagine what he’s going through. Or how much he’s had to drink since his loss.
Can’t blame him in the slightest.
“Okay, Tommy,” Trent said, trying to refocus himself. “What do you think happened now that we know she wasn’t at the hospital?”
“Fuck if I know. It’s like she just vanished off the face of the fucking Earth,” Tommy said, clearly frustrated. “Do you think anyone saw anything at the hotel?”
“We’ve been down that road and, honestly, I don’t think anyone there is going to talk to us. Fuck.”
Then something hit him. They hadn’t really spoken to anyone at the hotel at all, and there were plenty of people to talk to. In fact, that very evening gave them a great chance to speak to everyone.
It was, after all, New Year’s Eve. And because of that, everyone worth anything in town was going to be in one spot.
“Tommy . . . we’re idiots.”
“What are you babbling about, Trent?”
“We have to go back to Dad and get ready.”
“Huh?”
“It’s New Year’s Eve. We have a standing invitation to a fancy party, don’t we? Happy New Year’s?”
“Oh my God . . . the party.”
Tommy got it. The message . . . the crowd . . . maybe it was nothing more than a wild coincidence, things connecting in Trent’s head that didn’t really need to connect, but it was something.
“Yes. Come on, Tommy, let’s go get prettied up. I have a feeling when the ball drops, things aren’t going to be very pretty.”
Trent looked in the mirror and frowned. He absolutely hated dressing up but knew they needed to camouflage themselves at the lavish New Year’s Eve gala. He steadied his hand as he took his razor and traced the lines on his face that were obscured with shaving cream.
In the silence, his thoughts turned to Kristina. Surely, they would find her. Right?
He couldn’t believe it had come to this. All of the turmoil through the years the rival family had put them through, and for what? Just so one of their families could be top dog? Well, those days were over. They were long over.
Just like his days of chasing crazy women like Rachelle were over. Although, to be fair, he was just as crazy as Rachelle was. They were both carefree and seemed well-suited for one another in some ways.
Of course, in that relationship, he knew he was using Rachelle as a distraction from Kristina, and that was wrong, but at the same time, he was having a great time, and she was happy as well, so everything was perfect. Until Rachelle just vanished, that is.
She disappeared without a word. He didn’t even have a chance to ask her what happened, if anything was wrong, or if he did something wrong. She was just gone. Vanished.
Of course, he tried to call her and message her, but it was to no avail. It was like she never existed in his world. She didn’t leave him with anything but memories. He thought he could move on from Kristina and Rachelle, leaving him with nothing, but silence proved otherwise.
That was why, when his brother or father asked him about his love life, he only shrugged his shoulders. He knew better than to bother. The girl of his dreams wanted nothing to do with him, and his most recent relationship had fallen apart so badly there didn’t seem to be any salvaging it. After all, when it had fizzled into nothing, there weren’t any pieces to pick back up.
Back in his room, Trent pulled on his solid black tuxedo pants and was pleased to see they still fit even though it had been several years since he’d had the occasion to use them. They had been dry-cleaned and hung up. He quietly thanked his father’s housekeeper for keeping them for him in the mansion. He slung his button-up over his shoulders and sighed. He always felt so constricted wearing the collared shirts. It was like he couldn’t breathe the moment he put one on. Rachelle had told him numerous times through the years that he cleaned up well. He hoped she was right.
After tucking his shirt into his nice pants, he took his time fastening his holster around his body. The apparatus was tight an
d he adjusted it so that the pocket of the holster was easily accessible with his dominant hand.
He slipped his favorite weapon in his holster, and he felt oddly comforted with its snugness. It did seem to be in the perfect position for convenience. He looked like a man who knew how to handle business as well as impress the ladies.
He walked down the hallway and rounded the corner to find Tommy waiting at the top of the stairs. He had his phone out and was scrolling intensely. He seemed like he was studying something or trying to figure out a vital piece of information.
“Are we about ready?” Trent asked.
“One hundred percent,” Tommy said without hesitation.
“Did you put on your vest and holster?” Trent asked.
“You want to know if I’m packing heat?” Tommy said with a snicker. “Wow. I think that question is a bit personal. Rest assured, little brother, I have my bulletproof vest tucked safely against my chest, and, yes, I do have a small nine-millimeter with me. There’s also an extra clip in my sock just in case.”
“In your sock?” Trent said, wishing he’d thought to do the same.
“Yeah. Why do you think I say these are my lucky socks?”
Trent chuckled wistfully, both wanting to tease his brother and admit there was some level of genius to what he had done. Such a hidden weapon had a way of becoming handy, especially given that security was unlikely to check a man’s sock at an event like this.
“Come on, asshole,” Tommy said. “Let’s get to that party before the clock strikes midnight, and you turn into a pumpkin. Let’s go do this thing and bring Kristina home.”
Trent nodded, sighed, and laughed wearily to himself.
“Maybe I can even talk her into staying with me.”
Tommy slapped his brother on the back. Trent hated that he had admitted that out loud, but there was no taking it back now. At this point, he figured he might as well own up to it.
“See, now that’s the spirit.”
Trent turned up the music in the car while Tommy made a quick maneuver onto the freeway. They wouldn’t waste time driving through town in the evening traffic. Tommy took a back street, and they entered the hotel using the same entrance the employees did.