Page 14 of Lethal Game

He gave them both a derisive look. "Neither of you have any idea what you're talking about."

"Well, without our protection, you'll be even less likely to stay alive," he said.

"Lawyer," Victor repeated.

"Do you have someone you want us to call? Or do you want a public defender?" Savannah asked.

It was a good question. If Victor gave them an attorney's name, they might be able to tie the lawyer to Novikov.

But Victor wasn't falling into that trap. "Call whoever you want. I'm done talking."

"You have a small window of time in which you can change your mind," he told him. "But it's closing fast."

"Lawyer."

He let out a sigh and motioned Savannah toward the door. When they left the room, one of the two security guards on duty entered the room to stand guard, while the other remained outside, blocking the door.

"We're not getting anything from him," he said in frustration.

"No," Savannah agreed. "The doctor said he won't be released until tomorrow, so I'll make a call and get an attorney down here."

"Thanks."

As Savannah moved down the hall and stepped into thewaiting room to make her calls, he turned back to the glass window that showed the guard standing just inside the door while Victor had laid back and closed his eyes. He might be asleep or just resigned to whatever consequence he would have to suffer because of his botched carjacking.

Clearly, he was more worried about his employer than about going to jail. If that employer was Novikov, he could certainly understand Victor's fear. Novikov was a cold-blooded assassin. All he cared about was money, power, and terror, not necessarily in that order. And he suspected that Victor Kashin was expendable.

"Is that him?" a woman asked.

He turned his head, surprised to see Alisa Hunt. She looked much better than she had last night. She'd exchanged her scrubs for dark jeans and a coral-colored sweater over a white top. Her dark-brown hair was no longer in a ponytail but falling halfway down her back in pretty waves. Her eyes were brown but flecked with gold, her cheeks holding far more color than the night before. Her left hand was wrapped in a bandage, reminding him of the cut she'd suffered on her palm, and while there wasn't any sign of a concussion, he suspected she still had a big headache. But apparently, she wasn't one to stay home and sit on the couch.

"Is that the man who tried to kidnap me?" she asked, her gaze moving to the window behind him.

"Yes."

"Do you know any more about him? Or why he wanted me to get in the car?"

"We know he's originally from Chechnya."

She looked at him in surprise. "Really? Isn't that in Russia?"

"It was part of the Soviet Union at one time. Victor has been in the US since he was a teenager. He hasn't said anything except to ask for a lawyer, so I don't know why he grabbed you and tried to put you in your car."

"Can I talk to him?"

"Why would you want to?" he asked, surprised by her request.

"Maybe he would tell me because I'm not FBI. I'm just the woman he tried to kidnap."

"I don't think so."

"Please? I couldn't sleep all night. I kept hearing his voice, feeling his grip on my arm, shaking with terror at every memory. He grew into a gigantic monster in my head, and maybe if I spoke to him, he would stop being a monster and just be a criminal. Perhaps he just needed a car, and he didn't have any money."

"Don't make excuses for him," he said sharply. "Some people are just bad."

"I know that's true, but I'm trying to vanquish the monster in my head."

He couldn't help but admire her spirit and her determination to not let what happened control her. But he could also see the fear in her eyes. She was an intriguing and very attractive mix of bravery and fear. She had a soft girl-next-door look about her, but he knew she was also a fighter. However, he couldn't let her go into the room. She wouldn't get the result she was hoping for, and he didn't want her anywhere near Victor. She'd already had one unfortunate encounter, and that was one too many.

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