“So what are you waiting for?”
Justice and revenge are two very different things.
“Allie?” Linc’s voice was just as soft. “You don’t want to do this. I mean, you might want to right now, but is it worth it in the end?”
Justice and revenge are two very different things.
“It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.
Allie backed away with slow, measured steps, her gun never leaving Gregori’s face.
“Allie, don’t do it,” Linc whispered.
She never flicked her gaze away from her brother, but a rush of . . . something filled her. She could shoot him in self-defense, but not cold blood. Linc’s weapon didn’t move from the man. With an agonized groan, she lowered the gun to point it at the ground but stayed ready in case she needed to lift it again. “I’m not, I won’t.”
“Coward,” Gregori hissed.
“No. Someone once told me justice and revenge are two very different things. I didn’t realize it until just now, but I want justice, not revenge. Besides, killing you lets you off the hook. I want you in prison for the rest of your life.” She gestured to the expensive ride behind her. “It’s clear how much you value your possessions and your money. You could have gotten rid of me a couple of times but didn’t want to take a chance on hitting your car. That’s just . . . wow.” She scoffed. “Prison will hurt you so much more than death will.”
Linc grabbed Gregori by the collar and hauled him to his feet. He looked at Allie. “Cuff him.”
As Allie holstered her gun, the man lunged toward her. Linc dove forward, grasping his collar again and yanking him back as a crack sounded. Linc pulled Gregori down with him, then let go and rolled.
“Linc!” Allie went to her knees and spun her weapon toward the source of the bullet.
Another loud crack. Gregori, rising to a crouch in midflight, jerked and fell, and his eyes went blank.
“Linc! Are you hit?” Allie grabbed his arm.
“Not hit,” he said, scrambling to his feet and pulling her behind a tree.
“I thought for sure he’d gotten you,” she said on a gasp.
“If Radchenko hadn’t moved to go at you when he did, I’d have a bullet in my head.” Linc shuddered at the close call and pulled his phone from his pocket to speed-dial Henry.
“Where are you?” the man asked.
“Dodging bullets.” Although the shooter hadn’t sent any more flying their way. “Where are you?”
“On the way. What’s going on?”
Linc gave him the condensed version.
“But you’re okay?” he asked. “And Allie?”
“We’re fine. Radchenko is dead. Sniper is still in the wind.”
“I’m having the chopper come get me. Backup should be there any second.”
He could hear the sirens. “See you when you get here.”
“Keep Allie under wraps. Radchenko may be dead, but we’ve still got Nevsky to nail. And Radchenkos are a dime a dozen. When Nevsky finds out he’s dead, he’ll just send someone else.”
Linc wasn’t so sure about that.
By the time Henry arrived, the medical examiner was already working on Radchenko. Allie stood out of sight near the tree line watching the man work, her face expressionless.
Linc slipped over to her. “You okay?”
“Before I answer that, how’s Daria? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. At a hotel and waiting for us to join her. She’s the only one on the whole floor with guards strategically placed.”
“Good.”
“So, are you okay?”
“Yes. No. I . . . I . . . don’t know. I thought I would feel different.”
“Different how?”
“Glad. Victorious. Justified. Anything, but—” She clamped her lips shut and tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away.
“But what, Allie?”
“I don’t feel any of those things,” she said softly. “Instead, I just feel . . . sad. Just so . . . very . . . sad.” She leaned her head against the trunk of the tree and continued to stare at the ME who was now directing the transfer of the body into the black bag.
“I’d think that’s normal,” Linc said.
She glanced at him. “Is it? Ever since I was fourteen years old, my goal in life has been to find Gregori and kill him. That’s why I joined the FBI. It’s why I worked so hard to be one of the best agents in the field.”
“You succeeded in that.”
“I did.” She paused. “You don’t seem surprised that I’m feeling the way I do.”
“I’m kind of surprised you’re surprised. I’m not a shrink, but over the past year, while you left out a few pertinent details of your life, I believe I’ve gotten to see the real you—or at least the you that you want to be. If that makes sense.”
She bit her lip and looked away with a short nod. “It does. And you could be right.”
“You’re not the kind of person who’d rejoice in someone else’s death. No matter who he is or what he’s done.”
Her gaze shot back to his. “Don’t make me out to be someone I’m not. I almost pulled that trigger,” she said. “Don’t think for one minute that I didn’t want to.”
“I’m not making you out to be anyone but you. You couldn’t shoot him, could you?”
“No.” A sigh slipped from her. “I couldn’t. If he’d been armed and aiming a weapon at me, I wouldn’t have hesitated, but . . . he wasn’t.”
“Do you regret it?”
“I regret a lot of things, Linc, but I don’t regret finding out that I’m nothing like my brother. Or my parents.”
“I’m glad.”
She locked eyes with him once again. “If I’d killed him, I’d be no better than he. I would have chosen a path of no return. I would have been a murderer.” She shook her head. “In my head I kept hearing you saying that justice and revenge were two very different things. And then that Bible verse popped into my head. The one about how vengeance is the Lord’s. When we went to church that last time, the pastor preached on that passage, and I guess it stuck with me.”
“God has a way of doing that. Of sticking with you and speaking to you when you need it. Or least expect it.”
“You think that was him? Speaking to me when I was so very tempted to end Gregori’s life?”
“Absolutely.”
She nodded. “It’s because of you and your family, you know. I think that if I hadn’t met the St. John clan when I did that I might very well have pulled that trigger today.”
“What?” He raised a brow, then frowned. “I don’t think you would have, but how do you come to that conclusion that you didn’t because of anything I, or my family, did?”
“Ever since my brother killed my family, I guess I just figured that with my genes, there was always the possibility that I’d turn out just like him. Or even my mother, who was a very sad woman with no backbone and an addictive love of money.” She huffed a harsh laugh. “Guess that’s where Gregori got it from. It’s what he saw day in and day out.”
“You didn’t?”
She shrugged. “I guess I did, but it didn’t influence me that much. We had a huge house, three boats, a private jet, and all the clothes and shopping I could ever want. Then I remember Dad selling the jet and thinking it was weird. I guess, in hindsight, that was when he started scrambling to stay ahead of the creditors.” She sighed. “I still don’t know where those large withdrawals were going.”
“You may never know.”
“True.”
“We all have choices in life, Allie. I think it’s clear that you’ve made yours. You want to make a difference and stop the bad guys no matter what it takes. I admire that.”
She blinked and swiped a tear. “You take my breath away sometimes, St. John.” She paused. “You know, I may not be giving my foster parents enough credit. They were hardworking, God-fearing people who did their best with an angry teenager. But one summer at a camp in the w
oods of North Carolina, the speaker encouraged us to give our lives to God. He didn’t promise everything would be perfect, but he did promise we’d never be alone and God would never give up on us. I went forward that night and gave my life to God.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I fully understood what I’d done, but God did, didn’t he?”
“Absolutely.”
“Maybe that’s why I couldn’t pull the trigger.”
“I don’t think he physically kept you from pulling it—that choice was yours.”
“True.”
“But yeah, I think he was encouraging you not to make that choice.”
“I do too.”
“I’m glad you listened to him.”
She huffed a short laugh. “Same here.”
Henry headed their way and Allie dropped back slightly. Linc turned to face his boss. “Any word on Nevsky?”
“No. It’s like he’s dropped off the planet. But he’s on the airlines’ watch list. We’ve got eyes on all of his homes and so far he hasn’t shown up.”
“He’ll show,” Allie said. She drew in a deep breath. “It’s time to come up with a new plan. He’s going to be super careful about letting anyone in his house at this point.”
“Yeah, I’d say your cooking days are over,” Linc said.
“Just as well. I think I’m ready to go see Daria and get that evidence from her so we can take down Nevsky once and for all. I’m so over that man.”
Linc took her hand. “I like that plan.”
“I can give you a ride back to the hotel,” Henry said. “Talk to the girl and find out what you can. Then call me. I’ll be dealing with all of this while I wait to hear from you.”
Allie kept her head down and slid into Henry’s SUV. Linc climbed in beside her.
It didn’t take long to reach the hotel. Henry let them out at the back and she and Linc took the stairs to the third floor.
“Stay here until I get rid of the guards,” Linc said.
She nodded.
Linc stepped out of the stairwell and spotted the two men in front of the room next to Daria’s. He’d gotten five rooms and had them guard one of the empty ones. A female officer was in the real room with Daria. Linc flashed his badge at the two men and they nodded. He code knocked on Daria’s door and Ginny opened it. “Hi, Linc.”
“Hi, Ginny. I’ll take it from here. I appreciate your help.”
“Anytime.”
Once she and the other two guards were gone, he retrieved Allie from the stairwell and led her inside the two-bedroom suite, much like the one he and Allie had stayed in earlier.
Daria opened the door to her bedroom, anxiety pinching her young face. “Are you all right?”
“I’m alive, so I’m going to count that one as a win.”
The girl darted across the room and wrapped her arms around Allie, who gaped at Linc. He motioned for her to hug the teen back.
Allie did and he thought he saw a tear slip down her cheek.
21
Allie paced the room, her mind spinning, emotions churning. She’d come to care for Daria way too much, but there was nothing she could do about it now.
Daria sat on the sofa flipping channels on the television while Linc studied his phone.
“What are you looking at?” Allie asked him.
“The video.”
“What video?”
“The one Henry sent me of the security footage when Daria went all Houdini and did her disappearing act.”
“Hey,” the teen said. “I had good reasons for that.”
“I know.”
She stood and walked over to Linc. “May I see it?”
“Sure.” He held the phone so she could watch while Allie continued to wear a hole in the carpet.
“Something’s nagging at me,” Allie finally said.
Linc looked up. “What?”
“Nevsky’s office.”
Daria snapped her gaze to Allie’s. “What do you mean?”
“You said your father kept everything under lock and key. His home, his office, his desk. You even described him as OCD about it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Would he ever leave one of his desk drawers unlocked if it was able to be locked?”
“No. And all of his drawers have locks on them.”
The absolute certainty in Daria’s voice brought Allie to a stop. “One of the drawers in his desk wasn’t locked.”
Daria frowned. “Maybe he forgot.”
“You just said it would be locked. You really think he would forget?”
“No. I mean, I suppose it could happen, but it would sure be out of character.” She paused. “No, it couldn’t. Not with his OCD issues.”
“That’s what I thought. And the hard drive I sent to Annie was basically blank. There wasn’t even a password on the laptop.”
“Now, that is weird. He has passwords on everything.” She turned her gaze back to the footage on Linc’s phone.
Allie raked a hand through her hair. “So why would that drawer be unlocked? Unless he wanted me to find that stuff,” she muttered, her brain trying to piece it all together. Unfortunately, that was impossible to do without all the pieces.
She pulled her phone from her pocket. All of the pictures she’d taken in Nevsky’s office had been sent from the phone that had been destroyed in the blast, but—
A name from the television snagged her attention and she glanced at the screen. “Stop!”
Daria froze.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Can you turn that up?” She pointed to the television. Daria, still holding the remote, complied.
“. . . has been reported missing by her family. It’s been almost thirty-six hours since her husband last heard from her. No one has seen her since.”
“Allie?” Linc frowned at her and she held up her hand. He waited.
The reporter continued. “If you have any word of Catherine Hayworth’s whereabouts, please call the number at the bottom of the screen.”
The video flipped to the outside of a large two-story home on Hilton Head Island. “Hi, I’m Tom,” the handsome, dark-headed man said. He stood on the front steps of the home, hands at his sides. Reporters were gathered around, their microphones stretched toward him. “I’m Catherine’s husband. In spite of the line of questioning by the police, Cathy and I weren’t having any marital issues and we didn’t have a big fight or disagreement before she disappeared. She was grocery shopping and I was babysitting the kids. We were texting back and forth and she said she ran into a coworker and would be home shortly. But she never arrived.” Tears welled in his eyes. He looked away for a moment, biting his lip. “I need to know what happened to her. The security cameras covering the grocery store parking lot had been tampered with, so there’s no footage for the police to use to help find her. A witness saw her talking to a man wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses and is thought to be in his midforties. It’s also suspected that she was taken by that man. If you have her, or if you have any information that would allow us to bring her home, please call. I need her, our children need her, to come home safe and in one piece. Please,” he whispered, his voice trailing off. He swallowed and spun on his heel and disappeared into the house.
“Wow,” Daria said, “that was intense.”
Allie pressed a hand to her mouth. “I know.”
“What is it?” Linc asked.
“She was one of the nurses at the rehab place where Henry took me after the explosion.”
“Rehab place?” Daria asked. “That’s kind of weird. Wouldn’t you go to a hospital?”
“No, actually, it made sense for what he had in mind. With me being dead and all.”
“I’m still not sure that helped anything,” Linc muttered.
“Well, no one went after your family, did they?”
“I guess not, but something still feels hokey to me.”
“I’ll tell you what’s hokey,” Daria said, “is this footage. Where’s the rest of i
t?”
Allie frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s been changed.”
“How do you figure?”
“Can you put it up on the big screen?”
“Sure.” Linc grabbed his laptop from the bag. Once he had the cables attached, he pressed play.
“There,” Daria pointed. “In the background. See the guy standing in the doorway of the office building? Then in the next frame, he’s gone.”
“So he walked off,” Linc said.
“Then we should see him walking off. We don’t.”
Linc rewound it and Allie squinted at the screen when he played it again. “She’s right,” Allie said. “He’s there one second and gone the next. No walking. Just gone.” She stared at Daria. “How’d you catch that when neither one of us, nor Henry, did.”
The teen narrowed her eyes. “It’s very subtle, but part of it is, I should have seen the guy I recognized in it. Part of it could just be the artist in me.”
Had to be.
“So, we’ve got some missing footage,” Allie said slowly. “Who would have been able to do this?”
“I think we need to ask Annie.” He dialed her number and Allie wanted to pace again. Things were just not adding up. She raked a hand through her hair, then pulled it into a short ponytail. She missed the four inches she’d had to cut off.
“I still think it was a setup,” she murmured.
Linc glanced at her, then went back to listening to Annie. His frown deepened with each word. “Uh-huh. Okay, thanks.” He turned his attention back to Allie. “What do you mean, a setup?”
“The whole thing. It has to be some kind of a setup.” Her brain was finally starting to put it all together.
“Explain, please.”
“I told you Nevsky had photos of us in his office. He’d had them for a week. Why didn’t he kill me? Daria said he’s OCD about his privacy. Why would he leave that particular drawer unlocked along with a laptop on his desk with no password?”
“Obviously, rhetorical questions. What’s your conclusion?”
“Nevsky wanted me to see all of that stuff.”
“But . . . why?”
“I don’t know!” She pressed her fingers to her lips. “It’s like I’m working a puzzle with missing pieces. Annie said nothing was on the hard drive. At least the part I managed to copy.”
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