Mandy nodded. “I’m an awesome singer,” she said. “I know you’ll have to rig the judging for the first round, but if I make it into the semis, I’m pretty sure I can go all the way.”
I turned to Dutch. “I’m so sorry.”
I couldn’t be sure, given the swelling, but I thought he was smiling a little. “For what?”
“Obviously, I hit her too hard. She’s delusional.”
“I am not!” she yelled at me. “I do have a good voice!”
I rolled my eyes and texted Frost the terms. A minute later, after receiving his reply, I said, “There is no way we can guarantee that. The best we can do is fifty grand, and a spot in line for CGT.”
“And I want to see Rick.”
“He’s in custody and we’re trying to clear that,” Dutch told her.
“Well, then, when this is over, I want a conjungle visit with him.”
I blinked at her. “A conjungle visit with him?”
She had the nerve to look at me like I was stupid. “Yeah. You know, where you get to have hot monkey sex with a prisoner? Conjungle visitation is what they call it.”
I handed Dutch the phone. “You get to text Frost that one,” I said, moving away while I could still resist the urge to slap her.
Frost brought over the paperwork later that night. It’d taken much longer than we’d thought to get the CIA, the State Department, and the Mossad to iron out a “conjungle” visit between Rick Des Vries and Mandy, which she flat-out insisted was put into the agreement. The issue was that the Mossad admitted that they’d used some rather inventive ways to extract information from Des Vries, and they weren’t sure that he’d be able to . . . uh . . . perform any act of lovemaking—“conjungle” or otherwise. They didn’t want to agree to something that might not be physically possible. Can you believe that was the sticking point?
Anyway, we got around it by putting the wording in that it would be completely up to Mandy to arouse Des Vries once the two were put together sometime after the auction was over and we’d recovered the drone. It didn’t surprise me that she didn’t actually read the agreement before signing it in big swirly letters. She just assumed we had met all her demands and would keep our word.
We then sat up with her late into the evening, picking her brain about all of Des Vries’s business dealings. The more we knew, the better prepared we’d be when we got to the auction—assuming we got to the auction, that is.
Mandy knew far more than she’d originally let on, which didn’t really surprise me. My radar had suggested she’d been holding something back and she was. She knew a great deal about Rick’s weapons deals, and the information was pure gold.
By the time we’d finished at two a.m., Dutch was completely wiped out and Mandy was yawning and whining that she was tired. I motioned to Frost that it was time to quit, and helped get Dutch to bed while he showed Mandy to the spare bedroom, locking her inside. “You’ll want to post someone at the bottom of the fire escape,” I whispered to Frost as he shuffled tiredly out from the hall. “Those windows open right onto it.”
Frost nodded, then texted to someone and a moment later said, “It’s done.”
I stretched and yawned, getting down a glass to pour Dutch some water so that he could take his medication before he drifted off to sleep. “That was a good call,” Frost said to me.
I eyed him over my shoulder. “What was?”
“Recruiting Mandy.”
I gave him a sideways smile. “Thanks.”
“Dutch can reach out to Grinkov in the morning.”
“You should send Mandy along for the meeting,” I said. “It’ll look like Des Vries’s girlfriend is nursing him back to health, and Grinkov won’t eye him too closely.”
“Exactly. We just have to make sure she keeps her mouth shut and doesn’t say something that’ll blow his cover.”
“Dutch can handle her,” I assured him. When Frost eyed me skeptically, I added, “Hey, he handles me pretty well, doesn’t he?”
For the first time since I’d met him, Frost actually laughed. It was a lovely sound and I felt sad that he didn’t make it more often. “You’ve got a point there, Cooper.”
And then the moment passed and Frost was back to his serious self. “Okay, I’m gonna crash out on the couch. Why don’t you give Rivers his pain pill and get some rest yourself. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
“Got it,” I said, and headed off to bed. I hoped the next day wouldn’t be too bad. Okay, so, what I really hoped? That when Dutch called Grinkov, Maks wouldn’t mention that whole part about kissing me.
Needless to say, sleep was a long time coming that night. No surprises why.
The next morning I was up by eight along with Frost, but Dutch was still fast asleep and so was Mandy. “I want to let Dutch rest,” I told Frost before he’d even taken a sip of the coffee I’d poured him. “We pushed him too far yesterday.”
Frost sighed and looked at his watch. “Yeah, okay. We’ll give him another hour or two.”
I took a seat at the kitchen table opposite Frost. “No,” I said firmly. “We’ll give him the day.”
Frost opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “Listen,” I said. “He’s in no shape to do this today. He’s been beaten to a pulp, and he’s still running that low-grade fever, plus he’s exhausted. The doctor told us we needed to give him a few days of rest, and so far we haven’t given him any time at all. It’s Sunday, and Grinkov’s probably taking the day off anyway. Let’s give everybody until tomorrow morning.”
“Cooper,” Frost said stubbornly, “I don’t think we should wait. For all we know, whoever stole the drone could be working on moving it out of the country right now.”
“They’re not,” I told him.
“How do you know?”
I tapped my temple. “My radar says they’re not.”
Okay, so that was a total fib. I had no idea if Intuit was still in Canada, but if it was currently on its way out of the country, there’d be little we could do about it anyway.
Frost scratched his head and considered my request. “Fine,” he said. “I guess if there’s going to be a slow day, it’s probably today.”
“Thank you,” I told him, feeling a flood of relief. “I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well, you can thank me properly by cooking breakfast this morning.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I’m not very domesticated, you know.”
“You’re kidding,” he deadpanned.
“It’s that obvious?”
“Yep.”
“I could run out and get us something?” I suggested.
Frost seemed up for that and after a quick shower, and another check on Dutch, I was ready to forage for food.
I left the condo wrapped in a beautiful oversized beige cashmere sweater, chocolate leggings, and brown suede platform boots with a killer heel. The clothes had been purchased on my shopping spree, and I wasn’t feeling even a little guilty about spending the CIA’s money on something cool and comfy after being shoved into tight and trampy when we’d left D.C.
I stepped off the elevator to the parking garage, digging through my purse for my keys, when a black limo pulled up in front of me. Before I could even think through what was happening, the car came to a stop and the back window rolled down. “Good morning, Ms. Carter,” said the passenger.
My heart skipped about six beats, but somehow I managed to keep my composure. “Mr. Grinkov,” I said. “What’re you doing here?”
Maks moved closer to the window and eyed me up and down. “You look lovely this morning. Although . . . you are far away from your apartment across town.”
I had an apartment across town? “I stayed here last night,” I told him. “Rick is still recovering from his playdate with you.”
Maks inhaled and let it out slowly. “An unfortunate necessity of my business,” he said, not looking the least bit sorry for pummeling my business partner. “If I did not set an example now
and then, no one would ever think to repay me.”
“Maybe you need a new line of work?”
Maks smiled charmingly, and damn him, that handsome face and pleasing smile stirred that little fire in me again. “May I join you wherever it is you are off to?” he asked.
I returned his smile. “Oh, I doubt it,” I told him. “I’m headed to church, and I’d worry the place might be struck by lightning if I let you come along.”
Maks laughed heartily. “Touché.”
I eyed my car and wondered if the heels I was wearing would allow me to sprint for it. I could also turn back and make a run for the elevator, but I’d have to wait for the doors to open. The stairs were also on the other side of the garage. “I’m wondering why you’re here, Maks,” I said, still trying to come up with a plan. I had the feeling I was in trouble, but how to get out of it without getting hurt was going to be tricky. “Rick’s debt to you is paid in full, after all.”
“It isn’t Des Vries I came to see,” Maks said, his hazel eyes focused and intent on me.
Aw, shih tzu. “Ah,” I said, only then remembering the stun gun was in the bottom of my purse. Could I get to it in time?
“I came to see you, Abigail.”
I made a show of looking at my watch. “Well, Maks, I’m sorry you came all this way when I had other plans. Maybe next time you could call?” I began to walk purposefully away, aiming right for my car and hoping he’d give up.
He didn’t.
The limo driver threw the car into reverse and backed up right beside me. “Perhaps I can convince you to join me for breakfast?” Maks said.
I shook my head. “Like I told you, I’m on my way to church.”
“Which church?”
Uh . . . “The church of . . . of . . . St. Mary’s . . . the Virgin Mother . . . of His Holiness Our Father.” (As you can probably tell, it’s been a long time since I visited a church.)
Maks was amused. “I’m not familiar with that congregation. Where is it located?”
“On the corner of Queen and University.” The intersection just popped into my mind for some reason, so I went with it.
Maks looked at his driver. Even through the glass I could see the chauffeur shake his head. “There’s a Laundromat, bank, and a Coney Island Hot Dog on that corner,” he said to Maks.
Ahhh, Coney Island Hot Dog. That’s why I’d remembered it.
I stopped walking, knowing the jig was up and there was no way Maks was going to let me out of that garage. “Fine,” I said, moving to his door. “I’ll have breakfast with you. But I want to let Rick know where I am and who I’m with, okay?”
Maks smiled wickedly. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not by a long shot.”
Chapter Eight
“Do not get in that car, Abby!” Dutch growled, his voice low and threatening.
Maks’s chauffeur had already gotten out of the car and had come around to open the back door for me. His presence behind me let me know I was boxed in.
“All right, Rick, as long as you’re feeling better. I promise not to be long.”
“Abby!” Dutch called angrily. I tried not to wince as I had the phone pressed very tightly against my ear so that Maks couldn’t overhear the conversation.
He was looking at me intently, however, and I knew he was getting close to forcing me to both end the call and get in the car. I couldn’t stall any longer, so I said a cheery good-bye and clicked off the line before bending low and ducking into the limo.
Our driver closed the door behind me the moment I was seated, and I tried to resist the urge to open it up again and make a run for it, but my radar kept telling me that I’d be okay as long as I remained calm. We were too close to our goal now to blow our cover by acting nervous and arousing suspicion. Plus, maybe I’d get the opportunity to mention to Maks that Rick and I would appreciate an introduction to Vasilii Boklovich. After all, what could it hurt?
“Where are we going?” I asked once I’d tucked my cell back into my purse.
“Are you hungry?” Grinkov asked.
“No,” I told him just as my stomach gurgled. “Well, maybe a little.”
“You will eat with me again,” Grinkov said. “And we can tell everyone that we had dinner and breakfast together.”
The limo turned in a circle, preparing to head out of the garage, when I saw the elevator doors start to open. I knew Frost would be inside, and I could only hope that he’d get to his car in time to follow us.
We didn’t drive far, thank God, and I didn’t want to risk craning my neck to see if Frost was behind us. The driver turned onto Queen Street of all places, and there wasn’t a church in sight, but there was a charming little bistro named Joy’s that looked open for brunch.
I took heart in the fact that although Grinkov had all but kidnapped me, at least he’d taken me to a public place where I’d get a good meal out of the deal.
It was turning into a lovely morning, and Maks suggested we sit outside. I readily agreed, as this would put me in the most public place and allow me to scan the street for any sign of Frost’s car.
From the menu I ordered the eggs Joy—a version of eggs Benedict—and Grinkov ordered the same. I also told the waitress that I’d need three more orders to go after our meal.
“Three orders?” Grinkov said. “Who else are you bringing food to?”
“Uh, you mean besides the two orders I’m sure Rick will eat on his own now that he can move his jaw again?” I said, thinking fast. I knew I’d need to explain three separate meals to Maks.
“Yes.”
“I thought I’d bring an order back for his girlfriend, Mandy, too.” In truth Mandy, who was painfully thin, didn’t strike me as the type to eat breakfast. Or lunch. Or much of anything really, but maybe we could coax a few calories into her.
Grinkov’s brow rose. “Rick is still with Mandy Mortemeyer?” he asked.
“You’ve met?” I asked, pleased to think that our plan to recruit Mandy might actually pay off.
Grinkov scowled distastefully. “Yes, we’ve met.”
I couldn’t help but smile, but then I remembered that I was supposed to be working on keeping our cover intact. “She’s been helping to nurse Rick back to health while I look after our business investments.”
The expression on Grinkov’s face surprised me. For the first time I thought I saw a hint of guilt, but he didn’t comment further. Instead, he turned the conversation back on me. “I’m still intrigued by this business relationship between you and Richard. You do not seem the type of woman to partner with someone like him.”
I smirked before taking a sip of coffee. “He’s a bit on the brutish side, right?”
Maks nodded. “Yes. He’s not well liked, you know.”
“Oh,” I told him, “I can only imagine what his reputation must be. I mean, believe me, I know what he can be like. But right now Rick has hold of a golden egg, and I’m not letting go until I get my fair share.”
“A golden egg?” he asked. I could tell that I’d piqued his interest.
“Yep.”
Maks stirred cream into his coffee and studied me. He seemed to do that a lot actually. “You won’t tell me what this egg is?”
I tilted my chin to the sun, enjoying the warmth of midmorning. “Maks, do you know a man named Vasilii Boklovich?”
My question seemed to surprise him, and not in a good way. “I might,” he said cautiously. “What is it you want with Vasilii?”
“A meeting,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “Rick has acquired some very valuable technology and we’d like Boklovich’s help auctioning it off.”
I could see in Maks’s expression that he really wished he’d known that the other night, but he didn’t comment on it because our server arrived with our food. I took the opportunity to sneak a look at the street. To my immense relief I was able to spot Frost’s car parked half a block away. Once our server left us again, I waited for Maks to comment on what I’d said.
br /> But he didn’t. Instead he continued to consider me as if he was deciding something . . . like whether he should let me live past my eggs Joy.
Taking the hint, I tried a different track. “Maks, you obviously didn’t ask me here to discuss Rick’s business dealings, so what am I doing here?”
Grinkov casually cut into his eggs. “I have been thinking about our poker game,” he began. “And there are things that I find very curious.”
I nearly laughed. “Like the fact that I beat you?”
“Yes,” he said honestly. “I am very good poker player.”
“You are,” I agreed. “Do you think I cheated or something? Because I can assure you, I didn’t.” Well, at least not technically.
“I know you didn’t cheat, Abigail. You would not have left my home if you had.” I felt a small chill down my spine. “What I’m wondering is how you knew I was bluffing.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Every hand you won was a hand where I was bluffing. Every hand you lost was due to your inexperience and lack of skill. It’s how I knew you weren’t a professional. I would like you to tell me what I did to alert you to the bluffs. I know it wasn’t my mannerisms or my expression, so what was it that tipped you off?”
This time I did laugh. “You’re serious?”
Maks was not laughing. Heck, he wasn’t even smiling. “I am.”
“Why is it so important to you that I tell you?”
“Oh, you must tell me,” he insisted.
And I guessed at the reason why. “You’re worried that if I was able to pick up on your bluffs, other people will too?”
“Yes.”
“You take this game really seriously, don’t you, Maks?”
“I do.”
I sat back in my chair, knowing I had a bargaining chip and wondering if I had the cojones to use it. “Do you think you could find a way to help Rick and me in return?”