Page 8 of Twisted Obsession
Grabbing a shop rag, the younger one with blonde hair approached me. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I hope so,” I began. “My car won’t start. It’s in a secure parking lot not far from here. I think it is going to need to be towed.”
“I can tow it here and have a look at it. Just give me a minute to wash up,” he said as he continued to clean most of the grease off his hands.
“That would be great.” I had never been so grateful in my life. Hopefully, it wouldn’t cost me an arm and a leg to get my car fixed.
When we got to the parking lot, there were no cars parked there—not even mine—and I began to panic. It would mean one of two things. Either my car got stolen or it got towed.
“This isn’t good,” I said as I rubbed my hand across my face.
“It looks like you might be out of luck,” Blondie replied. “Let me see if your car got towed. What kind of car do you have and what is the license plate number?”
I gave him the information he needed as he pulled up something on his cell. I wasn’t sure if mechanics were privy to information on towed vehicles or if it was public record. Either way, I was screwed.
“They towed your car this morning around 4:00 a.m.” Blondie looked at me regretfully, like it was his vehicle that got towed. “You won’t be able to get it until tomorrow. If you want, I can take you there to get it.”
“Okay, that would be great.” Even though I was thankful, I couldn’t believe this was happening. “Do you know how much it is going to cost me to get my car?”
“Not exactly, but I’m pretty sure it will be a few hundred bucks.”
The only way I could come up with that money and still pay my rent was to use my bank card. Because Larissa Zhukov was the name on my bank card, I had avoided using it for three years. But with the towing fee and the cost to repair my car, I hadno other choice. One thing I promised myself, I would never get into so much debt that I would sell my soul to pay it off, like my father had.
“When do they open?” I asked, needing to get the money as soon as possible.
“At 8:00 a.m.” Blondie put his truck in drive and pulled away from the curb. “My name is Tanner Gibson, by the way. My dad and I own Gibson Auto Repair.”
“I’m Sara Jones. Nice to meet you.”
There was an ATM in the convenience store around the corner from where I lived. I could get the cash I needed to pay to rescue my car. Once I knew what the cost was to fix it, I would go to the bank and make a withdrawal so I could pay Tanner and his dad. It sounded simple enough. It had been three years. Surely the Antonovs had given up looking for me.
Chapter Four
Dmitri
Stepan glared at me from across my cluttered desk, his piercing eyes practically boring holes into my skull, and it was becoming annoying as hell. His anger simmered beneath the surface, all because I had assigned two of his men to stake out the decrepit, weather-beaten house on Brooklyn Street. The chipped paint and sagging porch were a testament to its seeming abandonment. I couldn’t care less about Stepan’s grudge; the possibility of Larissa returning to that forsaken place was too significant to ignore.
“Sir, we got a hit.” Gisela burst into my office, the door swinging open with a jarring thud, her entrance as abrupt as a thunderclap.
Under any other circumstances, her lack of protocol would have earned a reprimand; however, Gisela was the best IT expert in my team. Her skills were unparalleled and losing her would bea significant blow to my force, so I allowed her more leeway than I did others.
“Where?” I inquired, my voice laced with urgency.
“Boston,” she answered, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of discovery. “I knew that sooner or later, Larissa would need access to money, and activity on her bank card showed up at a downtown location. It doesn’t pinpoint her exact whereabouts, but at least we have a clue about where she’s been hiding.”
“Can you access the CCTV cameras?” I asked, my gaze fixed on Gisela with the confidence that she would accomplish the task.
“I can. But it will take some time.” Her response was exactly what I anticipated, her assurance solid as a rock.
“How long?” I pressed, eager for results.
“Give me a couple of days. I should have something for you then.” With those words, she pivoted sharply and exited my office, leaving me with a renewed sense of hope.
It was a long shot keeping track of all the Zhukov accounts, but it turned out our due diligence had finally paid off.
“Have Nicholi get the jet ready.” I looked at Stepan optimistically. “Looks like we are going to be making a trip to Boston in a couple of days.”
Stepan jumped from his chair and headed out of my office, but before he left, he turned back to me. “Can I tell Yuri and Boris they no longer need to watch the house?”
