Page 46 of The Fighter

I make myself wait ten minutes and text her again.

Once again, nothing.

She was supposed to go to get groceries. She didn’t go back to the gym after, did she? I’m not too far from Groff’s—the university is only a short walk away—so I head in that direction, mocking myself the entire way there. She probably just forgot to charge her phone. What are you going to say when you see her? Are you going to pretend you forgot something in the office? Idiot.

This is starting to approach stalker territory, and I find I don’t care.

I arrive at Groff’s, and there are about a dozen or so people here, half of them lifting weights and the other half in a class being taught by Luke Barnes, Ali’s new instructor. I watch for a little and grudgingly realize that he’s a good hire. He’s firm but patient, and he doesn’t take himself too seriously. A little too good-looking, though.

Fine, I’m jealous. I admit it.

Ali isn’t in the lobby, and she isn’t in the postage-stamp-sized office either. I pick the lock of the door leading to her apartment with laughable ease—note to self: get her better locks—and knock at her front door loudly, insistently—but there’s no reply.

My heart starts to race.

Where is she? I talked to her at seven, right before I headed into class. It’s now a quarter after nine, and she’s not at the gym or in her apartment. Where could she be? She didn’t have plans for the evening; she was going to buy food and then head straight back home. She couldn’t have forgotten to text me; one hundred thousand euros is riding on it, and Ali wouldn’t pass up the chance to gloat about what a terrible deal I made. So where is she?

You’re freaking out for no reason.

Maybe I am. But something about this situation feels off.

I call Valentina, the Venice Mafia’s resident hacker. “I’m sorry to disturb you so late,” I say when she answers. “But I need a favor. Could you locate someone for me from their cell phone number?”

“Sure,” she replies. “Who?”

“It’s Alina,” I admit, feeling a little foolish. If word gets around, the guys will have a field day with it. Joao will laugh his head off. “I’ve been trying to reach her for the last half an hour, but she isn’t answering her phone.”

“She hasn’t gotten in touch with you for half an hour, and you want me to track her phone? Have you considered that maybe she’s busy?”

Valentina sounds skeptical, and I don’t blame her. “Please look. All my texts to her are unread. This isn’t like Alina.”

“Or maybe her phone died,” Valentina says. “No, hang on, it’s not. I’m getting a signal in Castello.”

“Castello?” A sudden sense of dread fills me, and I start to move. What the hell is Alina doing in Castello? “Can you get me a precise location?”

“It’s going to take me a few minutes. Hang on.”

My boat is in Tronchetto, the opposite direction of Ali’s location. Not enough time to get it. I hurry alongside the Grand Canal until I find a suitable speedboat moored to the side. Perfect. I cut the docking rope and jump in. It’s only a moment’s work to hot-wire the boat the way Joao taught me. Then I rev the motor.

Valentina’s voice sounds in my ear. “Tomas, did you just steal a boat?”

“He did what?” I hear Dante say in the background.

I can’t pay attention to them—not now. I speed north on the Canalasso and then turn onto one of the narrower canals that will take me to Castello. The moment I do that, I curse out loud. A gondola carrying a couple of lovestruck tourists is blocking the way, the ancient gondolier paddling at the speed of a snail.

I drum my fingers impatiently against the dash. “Well?” I bark into my phone. “Where is she?” Castello is a narrow slice of the island. “North or south?”

Valentina’s reply comes after a moment. “North. Between Ospedale and Celestia.”

Ospedale and Celestia are vaporetto stops. The gondola finally turns into another narrow canal, clearing the way in front of me. Just then, my phone beeps.

Another call is coming through.

Alina.

“I’ll call you back,” I tell Valentina, then switch lines. “Ali, thank fuck.”

She giggles. “That seems like a very un-Tomas thing to say. You’re always so calm and collected.”

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