Page 188 of Toxic Salvation
He doesn’t catch my sarcasm. “Absolutely.” He gestures around the space. “I’m confident there’s nothing illegal happening here.Which is why I see no reason we can’t take a quick look around.” His smile widens. “Unless you’d prefer I return with a search warrant…?”
He thinks I’ll fall for a rookie trap like that? He’s even dumber than I suspected.
The warrant is already printed and folded in his back pocket—I can see the corner sticking out. He’s waiting for me to demand to lawyer up because he assumes I need time to hide evidence.
But his strategy has two fatal flaws.
One—I’m considerably smarter than he’s giving me credit for.
Two—I relocated every illegal item from this warehouse six months ago in preparation for exactly this scenario.
Ihor can sic every detective in California on me. They’ll find nothing but legitimate business inventory.
“No warrant necessary, detective. Search to your heart’s content.” I gesture magnanimously toward the warehouse floor. “I have absolutely nothing to hide.”
His confidence falters. This isn’t the panicked reaction he was hoping for from a guilty man. He snaps his fingers at his team and barks, “Spread out. Search every corner, every crate, every shadow. If there’s contraband here, we will find it.”
Knock yourselves out, boys.
I step outside where Pavel and Osip are waiting beside our cars, both looking tense but ready. The warehouse contains nothing but high-end electronics, computer components, and automotive parts. Expensive but entirely legal merchandise.
“Underground storage sealed?” I ask quietly.
“Welded shut and painted over,” Osip confirms. “They’d need blueprints and jackhammers to find the hidden levels now. Ihor’s anonymous tip just wasted everyone’s time.”
I retrieve my phone, which I’d silenced when Detective Channing arrived with his search party. The screen lights up with notifications that make my stomach drop.
Fifteen missed calls from Shura’s team guarding Vesper. Eight from Mikhail’s unit protecting Luka. Three more from Cordingly Prep.
Something is very, very wrong.
“What happened?” Pavel steps closer, reading my expression.
“Multiple security teams have been trying to reach me. Pavel, call Mikhail immediately. Find out why Luka’s protection detail has been calling nonstop.”
“Why don’t you call them yourself?”
“Because I’m calling Shura first.” I hit redial on Vesper’s head of security. “Fifteen missed calls from her bodyguards.”
The last thing I need is a crisis while Detective Channing is documenting my every move. But I turn away from the warehouse and pray Shura picks up quickly.
“Boss!” The relief in his tone is unmistakable. “Finally. We have a major problem.”
“Is my wife injured?” I keep my voice low but urgent.
“She gave us the slip, sir.”
I’m going to crush this phone in my grip. “Explain that.”
“She finished her meeting with Lovell around eleven. Came out looking shaken, told us she was cutting her day short. Efim was retrieving the vehicle when she announced she needed to use the ladies’ restroom urgently.”
The pieces are already falling into place in my mind.
“I swept the inside to clear it, then positioned myself outside the restroom door. Protocol for public facilities. But she was taking considerably longer than normal, so I became concerned about her wellbeing.”
“How long did you wait?”
“Seven minutes before I?—”
