I nodded. I thought that too, but now that he’d called for an ambulance, I needed to get the heck out of there before any records were created or the police were called in, but I knew I was too shaky to drive. “Would you take me back to Rick’s place?” I asked Maks.
Again he looked surprised. “You don’t want to go back to your apartment?”
I made a show of glancing down at my watch and even though I couldn’t quite get my eyes to focus on the dial, I said, “He’s expecting me, and you know how Rick’s temper is. I don’t want to be late.”
Grinkov frowned, and in his eyes I knew he didn’t care one lick for Rick’s tempestuous nature. “We’ll take you,” he said, and helped me to his car, which I realized was the very one that had nearly hit me when I’d spun on my heel and hurried back up the ramp.
After we were inside and the driver was told where to go, I asked Maks, “What are you doing here, anyway?”
He smiled. “Looking for you.”
It was my turn to look surprised. “Why?”
“I wanted to see you,” he admitted, his eyes smoldering with interest. “And I wanted to perhaps help you pick out something appropriate for the auction.”
Uh-oh.
“Ah,” I said.
An awkward silence followed until Grinkov pointed to my purse and said, “Perhaps you should check to see if your attacker took anything.”
I looked down and blinked. I hadn’t even thought of that. Digging through my purse, I saw that my wallet and my stun gun were both missing. “Great,” I grumbled. “I’ve been mugged.”
The moment we cleared the parking garage, my phone, which was still clutched in my hand, blew up with incoming calls from both Dutch and Frost. I tried to answer Dutch’s first but got Frost instead. “What’s happening?” he demanded.
“Hey, Rick,” I said, trying to make my voice sound easy and relaxed. “I’m on my way to your condo. I had a little misstep when I was out shopping, but I should be there in about, what, Maks, ten minutes or so?”
“Yes,” he told me. “About that long.”
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah, no problem. And hey, if you see your girlfriend, tell her I saw those shoes she likes at Neiman’s. They were on sale, and she really has to go there now to grab them before they run off with someone else.”
“Mandy took off?” Frost hissed, putting the coded message together.
“Yep.”
“Shit!” he said, and hung up.
Subtly I switched the phone to silent, even though I could see that Dutch was still trying to reach me. I couldn’t risk answering another call in the car with Grinkov.
My head was still pounding really hard by the time we got to Des Vries’s condo. I so wanted to get out of the car and make it through the garage and over to the elevator on my own, but the sides of my vision kept clouding in and I couldn’t seem to focus or keep my balance.
Maks helped me from the car, making repeated requests to take me to the hospital, and I kept insisting that all I needed to do was lie down and have a little rest. I didn’t know what to make of the fact that he was so genuinely concerned for me, and my head hurt way too much to think it through.
So I allowed him to help me over to the elevator, and he stood there, waiting patiently while I buzzed the intercom, because the doors would open only if you had a key card, and mine had been safely tucked inside my now-missing wallet. After a moment I heard Dutch’s voice say, “Yeah?”
“Hey, Rick. It’s me, Abigail. I lost my key card, so could you send down the elevator? Oh, and Maks is here. He’d like to come up to say hi.”
There was a lengthy pause before the light at the top of the elevator pinged, and a few moments later the doors opened. Once we got inside, I noticed that in the slot was Dutch’s key card. I pressed the button for the penthouse while Maks held me up the whole ride, which was good because I would have most definitely keeled over if he hadn’t.
When the elevator doors parted again, Dutch stood in the foyer, looking tall and imposing, wearing his brown contacts and an angry look. “Where you been, Carter?” he demanded, in full Rick Des Vries–impersonation mode.
I smiled tightly. “Sorry. Maks was kind enough to escort me here. I got mugged.”
“Mugged?”
“Yes. Someone hit me on the back of the head while I was in the parking garage at Eaton Centre, and the mugger stole my wallet, which had the key card in it.”
A small vein near Dutch’s left temple began to throb, a sure sign that he was upset, but otherwise, nothing about his expression or manner indicated he was at all alarmed. “Did you call the police?”
“Not yet. I was worried about making our meeting.”
Grinkov stepped forward, getting into Dutch’s personal space, and I could tell he didn’t care for the way Dutch was interrogating me. “Abigail sustained a serious injury to the back of her head,” he told Dutch icily. “I think she needs some ice and a chance to lie down.”
Dutch’s brown eyes swiveled from Maks to me and back again, the vein at his temple pulsing intensely now. I knew he was having a hard time staying in character, and so I did my level best to stay on my feet and not give in to the waves of dizziness washing over me. I was certain that if he showed any uncharacteristic concern for me, it would tip Grinkov off. “Yeah, okay,” he said as if he didn’t really care, and he stepped to the side and allowed us to come in.
I nearly groaned when I realized Grinkov was going to stick close behind me. I wobbled once as I moved past Dutch and I saw his hand jerk toward me. Reflexively and with supreme effort I tilted away from him and back toward Grinkov, who caught me under the arm and helped to steady me as we made our way into the living room. Once I was on the couch, I sat down and inhaled several deep breaths.
Dutch got me some ice wrapped in a dish towel and handed that to Grinkov, who sat next to me and placed it behind my head. The cool compress was so welcome I could have wept. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Does it hurt much?” Grinkov asked me.
I gave a tiny nod. “It’s a killer.”
“Rick,” Grinkov said, his tone once again testy. “You must have some pain medicine. Get her something to help with the headache.”
I heard Dutch shuffling around in the kitchen and then down the hallway to our bedroom. He came back out shortly and I opened my eyes to see him hand me a glass of water and the pill. “Who mugged you?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I got knocked on the head, and when I came to, my wallet was missing.”
Throb, throb, throb went Dutch’s temple. “Huh,” he grunted.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” Grinkov asked me, and I could tell he clearly didn’t want to leave me in the dispassionate company of Rick Des Vries.
“I can take her,” Dutch said quickly. “After all, she and I still need to go over some of the details for the auction.”
Grinkov sighed like he didn’t like that idea, but he let it go, thank God. Getting to his feet, he looked down at me. “Please call me later to let me know you’re feeling better,” he said.
I forced a small smile. “Absolutely. And thank you again for the ride.”
Grinkov then turned to the elevator and we all heard his phone give a beep. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the display before turning back to us. “It’s a text from Boklovich. He has heard from his contact in possession of the drone. They will be attending the auction.”
I resisted the urge to look at Dutch, afraid my emotions would give us away. “Great,” I said. “I look forward to seeing who will get the highest price.”
Grinkov smiled devilishly. “Yes,” he said. “It should be a very successful event.”
The moment the doors closed behind Grinkov, Dutch was at my side. “Jesus!” he said, pulling away the ice pack and parting my hair to look at the lump on the back of my head.
I hissed as he fussed around back there. “Easy, cowboy,” I whispered.
/> He kissed my cheek and eased my head back against the cushion, looking critically at me again. “I think you have a concussion.”
“Yep,” I said, closing my eyes again and just praying that eventually the world would stop spinning.
“I’m calling Frost and having him send the doctor over.”
“Good idea.”
Dutch moved off the couch, and while he was dialing the phone, I asked, “Where is Frost anyway?”
“Out looking for Mandy.” Frost must have come on the line then because Dutch began speaking fast and furious to him. In short order I learned that Frost had located Mandy and was bringing her back to the condo, and by the sound of it, the trip home wasn’t going smoothly. Frost also assured Dutch that he would send the doctor right over.
The kindly man appeared at our door not ten minutes later, and when he sat down in front of me, he said, “You two seem to attract more than your fair share of trouble.”
“Tell me about it,” I said to him.
He told me to follow his penlight, which I had a heck of a time doing, and asked me several random questions like, “What is today’s date?”
“Aww, man,” I said honestly, “I don’t remember. Since I’ve been on this mission, I haven’t really looked at a calendar. I know it’s sometime in May, right?”
The doctor smirked. “What’s your birthday?”
“December twenty-ninth.” I eyed Dutch humorously. “See? Even with a concussion I can remember it. How come you can’t?”
“I forgot it one time,” he replied with a laugh.
“Who is the prime minister of Canada?”
“Beats the heck out of me,” I said.
At this point Frost came in handcuffed to Mandy, who was pulling and tugging and beating on him like crazy. “I hate you!” she screeched.
In spite of the awful pain in my head I couldn’t help but smirk at him in an “I told you so” way.
The doctor had turned his attention away from me and he seemed somewhat alarmed by the commotion. “Doc,” Frost asked him in exasperation. “Can you do something with her?”
The good doctor blinked. “Like what, Agent Frost?”
“I don’t know, sedate her or something?”
“No!” Mandy shouted, tugging and pulling and hitting poor Frost for all she was worth.
Dutch stood abruptly and moved menacingly over to her. He didn’t put up with crap like that. Mandy took one look at him and cowered, shielding her face as she cried, “Wait! I’m so sorry! Please, please don’t hit me!”
Every single person in the room stopped to suck in a breath. “Oh, man,” I whispered as Mandy crouched low and held up both her arms, trying to cover her face and her head, while she shivered pathetically from head to toe like a frightened puppy.
Dutch immediately backed off, and the look on his face told me flat out that he was disgusted by the character he was being forced to portray. Frost dug into his pocket and extracted the key to the handcuffs. In short order he had Mandy out of them and gently guided her over to the opposite side of the room, where he placed a blanket over her legs and switched on the television. She continued to shiver and cower for long after that, but at least she’d settled down.
The doctor went back to examining me, concluding that my concussion was likely mild but severe enough that he wanted me to consider getting a CT scan, which I refused. He then prescribed bed rest and a pain pill every eight hours as needed, and told both Dutch and Frost to call him if I began showing signs of confusion, disorientation, or if I began vomiting; much the same as he told them about me only a few days before, and Dutch a few days before that.
Dutch moved my legs onto the ottoman and brought a blanket from the bedroom, then replaced the ice pack behind my head with a fresh compress. During all this he also brought Frost up to speed on what had happened to me at Eaton Centre, and about Grinkov escorting me home.
“How did Grinkov find you at Eaton Centre of all places?” Frost asked.
“He called me right after I dropped Mandy at the nail salon. He wanted to have lunch and I told him I was there shopping. I don’t know why he decided to come find me, but he did.”
Dutch eyed me coolly for a minute but didn’t say anything, and I sure as heck didn’t add anything more to the explanation, as I could clearly see the vein in his temple throbbing again. Instead I decided to change the subject. “Where’d you find Mandy?”
“Same place you left her,” Frost said, looking over his shoulder at her as she watched a Friends rerun. “She was still running around Eaton Centre like a wild child.”
That surprised me. “When she took off, I had no idea where she’d gone. I assumed she’d hightail it out of the shopping area as fast as she could.”
“When you called us to tell us that Mandy was missing, I didn’t know exactly where you’d gone shopping, so I put a trace on the credit card I gave you. There was a charge at a nail salon located at Eaton Centre, and a few minutes later one at Coach, then another at Michael Kors and on and on. Basically we just followed the bread crumbs.”
“Wow,” I said. “What’d she buy?”
“What didn’t she buy? In an hour she’d rung up fifteen thousand in purchases.” Frost glared at Mandy, who was totally oblivious to anything but the TV.
I barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Where is all the stuff?”
“Being returned,” Frost said. “And how’d you lose sight of her, anyway?”
It was my turn to look guilty. “I dropped her at the nail salon while I went to get Dutch some sunglasses.”
“Why do I need sunglasses?” he asked.
I pointed him to my purse, because I remembered the glasses I’d purchased were thankfully still in my bag. “I wanted to get you the same kind Des Vries wore in the video that Frost showed me this morning. I figured your excuse could be that you’re trying to hide the bruises around your eyes, and if that Arab guy shows up and sees you in the same sunglasses, he might not wonder so much why you look a little different than the man he remembers meeting with three years ago.”
Dutch poked through my purse and lifted out the small bag from Neiman’s. As he held them up, he took note of the tag and whistled. “These were expensive, Edgar.”
“Des Vries wouldn’t be seen in anything cheap,” I assured him.
“No,” he said. “What I mean is, the person who mugged you took your wallet and your stun gun while leaving behind a pair of three-hundred-dollar sunglasses?”
“Someone’s definitely after you, Cooper,” Frost said in a way that sent a chill down my spine.
“Maybe it was just a mugger who didn’t have time to grab the sunglasses before Maks and his butler showed up,” I argued, wanting that to be the case but knowing in my bones that Dutch and Frost were right. Someone had my number and wanted me out of the way.
“I don’t think so,” Dutch said, and I could tell he was weighing the argument to get me bumped off the case. “I think this might be the same guy who tried to strangle you, and possibly even the same person that took out Viktor.”
“But we don’t know for sure,” I insisted. There was no way I was going to let Dutch use this as an excuse to go in by himself. I’d never see him again; of that I was certain. “I mean, the pattern is a little off, don’t you think?”
“No,” said Frost. “What’re you getting at?”
“Well, to Dutch’s point, if this is the same guy who first tried to include me in the murder of Kozahkov and his bodyguards, then tried to strangle me, why only bump me on the head? Why not kill me with the same gun he used to kill Viktor?”
I could tell that stumped both of them, and I used that momentum to further my argument. “It’s almost as if the violence against me is being subdued on purpose. Don’t get me wrong, guys—my head is killing me, but it wasn’t a lethal blow by any measure. If the goal had been to kill me, then that’s what should have happened. Instead, someone merely conked me on the head, then sifted through my purse and took my
wallet. No assassin is going to knock someone out and sort through their personals in a crowded parking garage for cripe’s sake! Trust me, this isn’t an assassin. It’s simply a thief who took advantage of me when I was alone, distracted, and vulnerable, and maybe he already had a pair of expensive sunglasses, or maybe he just didn’t have time to grab them too.”
Dutch and Frost exchanged a long look, and I could tell I’d managed to put a little bit of doubt into their theory. Finally, Frost said, “Fine. You can stay on the mission, but you’re done going anywhere alone. And I don’t care if Grinkov really wants to have you over for dinner again—the answer to him will be, ‘After the auction,’ you got that?”
I nodded obediently, even though the action hurt. “Got it.”
Dutch’s lips pressed together in a tight seal and he said nothing more. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed to the bedroom.
A while later Dutch joined us again and began cooking dinner. I was feeling less woozy and Mandy was peacefully watching TV, while Frost checked in with HQ. When he got off the phone, he didn’t look happy. “There’s been a development,” he said, coming over to sit in the chair opposite me.
“What?” Dutch asked from his place at the stove.
“We’ve found Oksana Fedotova.”
Dutch turned around, his brow raised. “The one we think was involved with the drone pilot and had a possible connection to Kozahkov?”
Frost nodded.
“Is she talking?” Dutch asked.
Frost shook his head. “She’s dead. Her body was found in her car parked at long-term parking near the airport. She had a ticket to Toronto in her purse and two big suitcases full of clothes in the trunk.”
I swallowed hard. “How long had she been dead?”
“At least a week,” Frost said. “Maybe longer.”
“How was she killed?” I pressed.
“Strangled,” Frost told me.
“With a shoelace?” Dutch asked, and I knew why he was asking.
Frost shrugged. “Hard to say,” he said. “Decomp barely allowed the ligature marks to appear, but her hyoid’s been broken and no other obvious signs of trauma were found, so someone used something like that to take her out.”