Page 82 of Sinner's Secret

“Are you injured?”

“Cuts and bruises mostly. Sir, they removed my RFID tag just like Baz figured they would. They knew I was a cop. They knew when I’d be home. I think...I think there’s a leak in the department.”

There was a couple of seconds of silence before he replied. “I agree. Any idea who it might be?”

“I trust our team, but it could be one of the other detectives not involved in our operation. Or maybe someone new to the department? Has anyone been reprimanded or passed over for a promotion?”

“There are a couple of people who aren’t happy with their current assignments,” he answered slowly. “My first priority, however, is getting you to a hospital to be checked over and somewhere safe.”

“Yes, sir. I haven’t slept much since I was taken and I’m unarmed. I feel like I’m being watched.”

“I’ll send—”

“No,” she cut him off. “Please, sir, I don’t know who to trust. Could we do this quietly?”

“Of course,” he answered, his tone conciliatory and sympathetic. “I’ll come and pick you up myself. Do you need a medical check?”

“That would be a good idea. I’ve been running on adrenaline, and sometimes injuries don’t become apparent right away.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Are you able to watch the street in front of the shelter?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be driving a blue four-door sedan.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang in there, Nika. It’s almost over.” He hung up.

It was nowhere near over.

She thanked the staff, then asked to stay in the entry way until her ride arrived.

There was a coffee shop across the street and down a couple of doors. Yvgeny was sitting outside at a small table, pretending to drink coffee while he looked at his phone. Baz was nowhere in sight.

“Are you all right, honey?”

Nika turned. An older woman in jeans and a t-shirt with a name tag on it that read, Sylvia, looked at her with a gaze that told Nika she’d seen it all.

“Yes, I’m just waiting for my ride.”

“What kind of ride?”

“The police, actually. He’s a friend of my father’s.”

“Okay, well, be careful out there. Lots of girls gone missing in the last week. Most of them would be your type, you know?”

“How many?” she asked.

“Well, a dozen or so. A couple of them made it back here last night with a hell of a rescue story.”

“Rescue?”

“Yeah, someone let them out of the truck they’d been locked in. No one got a good look at the guy, but the driver and his shotgun were both dead in their seats. Like dead, dead. Their heads were twisted around the wrong way.”

“Eww.”

“Yeah, so you be careful.”

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