Page 189 of Toxic Salvation
“Seven fucking minutes?” I can barely keep from shouting. “You gave hersevenminutes unmonitored?”
“She specifically mentioned feminine issues, boss. Said it might take a while to sort out.”
“She manipulated you,mudak. Told you exactly what you needed to hear to give her maximum time to disappear.”
“Yes, sir. I realize that now.” His embarrassment is obvious. “When I finally entered the restroom, she was gone. Escaped through a rear window that opens onto the fire escape.”
I massage my temples, fighting a growing headache. “What did she take with her?”
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“What was she carrying when she entered that restroom?”
“Her handbag. Plus that black leather case with her initials—the one you gave her this morning.”
“Continue searching. Contact me immediately if you discover anything.”
I end the call and face Pavel, who’s just finishing his own conversation. The grim set of his features tells me Luka’s situation is equally catastrophic.
“Let me guess,” I say. “Our nephew has vanished.”
“Completely.” Pavel pockets his phone. “After his physical education class ended, he went into the locker room to change back into school clothes. Mikhail waited outside per standard protocol.”
“And?”
“Twenty minutes passed. Mikhail entered the locker room and found it empty. Luka’s gear was still in his locker, but he was gone.”
“Security cameras?”
“Allegedly, down for maintenance.” Pavel’s expression darkens. “Mikhail thinks the timing was suspiciously convenient.”
“Ihor orchestrated this.”
“Obviously,” Osip agrees. “Grabs the kid first, then uses him to lure Vesper into whatever trap he’s prepared.”
I can see the entire sequence of events playing out. Vesper receives a threatening message about Luka’s safety. Her protective instincts override her common sense. She abandons her security team and runs directly toward danger.
“Ihor has both of them now,” I conclude.
“What’s our move?” Pavel asks.
“We locate them before Ihor determines they?—”
“Is there a problem, gentleman?” Detective Channing walks forward, watching us shrewdly. “Looks like you’re all worked up over something.”
“My son’s sick,” I say as calmly as I can. I have to do my best to keep a lid on my emotions. If I look like I’m rushing off to put out a fire, I’m just going to make the man more suspicious. “I need to go pick him up from school.”
“A sick son, huh? Unfortunate. Doesn’t he have a mother?”
“I’m not about to disturb my wife on her first day back at work,” I grit, resisting the urge to punch the fucker in the face. “So, detective, tell me: did you find what you were looking for?”
His smile sours. “No. The warehouse is clean.”
“Because your anonymous tip off was probably a practical joke. I’m sorry you fell for it. Maybe next time, you’ll be smarter.”
He scowls. “This isn’t over, Mr. Krayev. I know you’re hiding something and I’m going to find out what.”
“And here I was, thinking you were on my side.”
