Page 21 of Nikolai

Thirty minutes later, I'm pulling up to the lake house. Inside, I head straight for the office, pulling my phone from my pocket along the way. Tapping the screen, I call my father.

"Son. It is good to hear from you." His relaxed tone hints I woke him from sleep.

"Shit. I apologize for waking you. In my rush, I wasn't thinking of the time difference."

"What's wrong?" My father's voice is now alert, and I hear movement from the other end.

"Everything is fine. If possible, I'd like Maxim to join me here in the States," I ask.

"Done," he replies. "Does this have something to with a particular little brunette?" he asks the one question I sensed would be his next.

"It does," I freely admit. My father may not be here full time like he had hoped, but he is here enough to know about Leah. And it's not like I have tried to hide my attraction for her, I just haven't acted on those feelings. "As of today, Sam has moved from the apartment they share. He is now living at The Kings' clubhouse, as their newest prospect."

My father sighs. "It's been a year. Do you believe her father is still looking for her?"

"The Kings have been keeping tabs on him. However, I don't believe he will stop looking for her. I'd like Maxim to be my eyes and ears when I can't."

"Understandable." My father falls silent for a second, then adds, "You see your future with this girl?"

I think about his words, but not for long. "Yes."

"Then use whatever resources you need to secure that future. Maxim has been informed and will be on a flight to Polson in a couple of hours."

Me and my father's relationship hasn't always been as strong as it is now, but over the past few years, the bond between us has grown, and now, it is unbreakable. "Thank you." That's where our call ends.

Next, I call Reid. He's the one The Kings rely on to handle security measures and who installed the current system at Leah's apartment. Reid answers on the third ring. "I was expecting your call," he informs me.

"Word travels fast."

Reid laughs. "Yeah, brother, but you should be used to that by now. I've emailed all the information you need to log into the security system for Leah's place. Currently, the cameras are positioned outside the complex to capture every angle possible."

"And inside?"

Reid clears his throat. "No."

"Thanks."

"Catch you later, brother." Reid ends the call, and I log into my email, open the one Reid sent, then click the link he provided. After entering the password, I begin live streaming video outside Leah's apartment. I scan the parking lot, not finding her car, then remember she's out shopping with her friend. Knowing she isn't alone, slightly eases my mind.

Through the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, I sit watching the security feed. I also decided to order a new phone for Leah. One I know is untraceable and can track down her whereabouts should the need arise. Keeping the video on the desktop, I retrieve my laptop from another room and open the files we have on Leah's father. Unfortunately, we don't have much to go on. He's been on the Post Creek Police force for years, married to Mary Winters. He and his wife attend church regularly. His status within the community there appears to be untarnished. He's clean—too clean. Like someone has tried too hard to paint him as the picture of perfection. That alone sends red flags. I'm not buying into the illusion. My instincts are telling me I need to dig deeper, and I'll need help doing it. Only one name comes to mind. Luka. He has worked with my family before. You need someone found; he'll find them. We need to know every detail about someone's life; he can do that as well. Opening my father's desk drawer, I retrieve the burner phone used to contact him.

James Winters.

624 Sycamore Ln. Post Creek, MT

Cop

I wait for his reply.

Message received.

I slip the phone back into the drawer. Out the corner of my eyes, I catch a car pulling into the complex's parking lot. I zone in, watching Leah park. She waits a few minutes before stepping out of her vehicle, then scans her surroundings.

Good girl.

My eyes stay glued to the screen as she makes her way to her front door, the sway of her hips putting me into a trance-like state. She looks behind her before unlocking her door, then steps inside. She doesn't leave for the remainder of her day.

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