“Natasha had a child.”
The blood fell from Trina’s face. “Ruslan’s?”
“We’re not sure. Locating her is proving more difficult than finding the mom.”
“A girl?”
“That’s what our source told us.”
“Fedor had a sister?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Natasha wasn’t an exclusive woman. We would need a paternity test to prove it. With Fedor dead and Ruslan unavailable to swab, we may never know. But we are looking. The question really needs to be, Did Alice know about the child? Did Fedor? Sasha said she found the papers in Fedor’s office, but did she find all of them? Or did Alice give them to her?”
“Why don’t you just ask her? Doesn’t Sasha contact you?”
“Whenever she’s damn good and ready, she will. Until then, I’m out of luck.”
Trina hung her head, gripped the phone. “Let me get this straight. You can find a woman who is what, dead twenty years?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five years,” Trina continued. “But Stealth Woman in a black leotard remains elusive?”
“Yup. Pretty much.” Reed held no guilt in the tone of his voice.
“Should I be impressed?”
“Hell yeah. I am. So is Neil, and you know that man never cracks a smile.”
Neil never talked, let alone smiled.
“What about the box in Arizona?”
“Empty.”
“Who is it registered to?”
Reed started laughing. “Buddy Nash.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Buddy Nash. Move the name around, take away a few letters . . . sounds a whole lot like Natasha Budanov, doesn’t it?”
Trina squeezed the bridge of her nose. “You know, I really wish I had known Alice longer.”
“I can do you one better. I wish I had known her at all.”
Following Ruslan in Mexico City was a hell of a lot easier than in a graveyard in Texas. With her dark hair, dark eyes, and the ability to speak the language, she fooled the locals. She added a fake mole to her cheek and made sure it matched the one on the bogus passport she carried, and waltzed around in big sunglasses and red-hot lipstick on her lips.
She lost Ruslan inside the hotel but followed him with her bug on his phone. She was making herself comfortable in the lobby when Zakhar walked past her and out the doors of the four-star establishment.
Zakhar was on a mission.
Instead of holding back, Sasha followed.
He stayed on foot, walking through the city and around the backs of buildings that had seen better days. At one point Sasha reached into her bag, swapped out her sunglasses, and tossed on a hat. A second glance behind him and Zakhar wouldn’t be any wiser to her presence.
He made his way down an alley that would have proved she was following him had she trailed behind. So she walked by and then crossed the street. He ducked into what looked like a building where she could find a replacement passport and the people associated with the trade.
She waited for thirty minutes, all the while keeping an eye on the app showing Ruslan’s location. He hadn’t moved.
When the door opened to the alley, Zakhar walked out with two extra men.
They were big.
Recruits, she immediately thought. Ruslan was hiring help.
She’d seen this before.
Zakhar walked them to the center of the city and into a store that specialized in big and tall suits.
For a moment, Sasha’s thoughts flashed back two years.
She stood inside one of the most expensive department stores in New York, Alice at her side.
“You don’t need to buy me clothes.”
“I don’t need to do anything,” Alice said. “But I’m setting up your accounts and want to make sure everything is taken care of.”
Alice had hired her, flown her to the States, and funded the way for Sasha to watch over and protect an army instead of just her son and his wife.
“I won’t say no, but this is overkill.”
“Is it? I’ve been told you’re the best. Does the best not deserve the pay of kings?”
Sasha knew at that moment there was more to Alice than the woman was letting on. But she held back and played out the woman’s game. “How many people in this room have a weapon?” Alice had whispered.
Sasha had taken half a minute to scan the room. “The doormen, the man at the jewelry counter . . . but those are obvious. The man over there, in the suit, with his wife.” He looked like an ordinary customer, but she noticed the way he made sure his jacket didn’t slide open. “I’m guessing an off duty detective.”
Alice smiled.
Sasha reported three more “customers” that she would consider armed and dangerous.
By the time they left the store, Sasha was overloaded with bags, and an account in her name was filled with more money than she’d spend in a lifetime. Alice had insisted that Fedor and Katrina would frequent many social circles, and Sasha needed to blend.
For a brief moment, Sasha felt as if she’d found her fairy godmother.
Before she let herself open her heart, she looked into the drawn eyes of a dying woman and shut her emotions down. No need to get attached to someone on their way out.
Still, as Sasha watched Zakhar and his now well-dressed thugs leave the store, she felt a little kinship to them.
They were hired and dressed the part.
Too bad they were working for the wrong side.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Summer had yet to lose its grip on Vegas. It helped that the bright lights of the never-sleeping city warmed the Strip. Not that Wade had much of an opportunity to explore the city.
He remembered touring the city with Gus, Sebastian, and Luke early on in his career. The other members of his band didn’t have quite the name recognition as Wade, since he’d branded himself as a solo artist, but his bandmates had enough claim to fame to warrant a following of their own. Something Wade encouraged at every turn. Truth was, the music they played was Wade’s. From lyrics to composition. Gigs like the one here in Vegas were bread and butter to his band. While they did make some money off the albums, it was the venues that filled their banks.
Wade was prepared to cancel for Trina but couldn’t help but feel happy he didn’t have to, for the sake of his guys.
“Mind telling us what all the Blues Brothers are doing, standing around?” Gus, his bass player, asked while looking toward the closed greenroom door.
“Extra security.”
Sebastian pulled a longneck from the table to his lips. “Have someone stalking you?” he asked with a grin.
Wade adjusted his hat and turned away from the mirror. “More like the girl I’ve been seeing.”
“The one from your party?” Gus asked.
“Yup, Trina.”
The three of them exchanged glances.
“So why are they here?”
Wade glanced at Jeb, who stood by the door. He knew from walking in there were three men outside, ready to escort them onstage when they were called to do so. “Because snagging me to leverage her is a real threat.”
There weren’t many times he found his band speechless.
Now was one of them.
“Her to get to you I understand . . . but you to get to her?”
“She’s that special?” Gus was the only married man in the band. He and his wife of five years had two kids and one of the strongest relationships Wade had ever seen.
“She is. As in, I think she’s it.” Actually, he knew she was it. It was just going to take a little more time to convince her of where she needed to be.
Gus offered a knowing smile and clasped Wade’s hand in a shake that formed a bond. “Congrats, man. I’m happy for you.”
“Guess this means we’re not going for drinks after the show,” Luke, the youngest member of the band, said.
“I’m sure you and Sebastian will find plenty of female companionship to fuel your evening without me.”
Luke removed his hat in an overly dramatic fashion and pressed it to his chest. “We’ll do our best, won’t we, Seb?”
“A sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Sebastian replied, patting his chest.
A knock on the greenroom door directed their attention. “Five minutes.”
Wade turned to the mirror. “That’s our cue, boys. Let’s see if these city folks know a little country music.”
“You have it bad!”
Trina turned down the stereo that filled the room with Wade’s voice and focused her attention on Avery as she walked into the room. She used one crutch and the walking cast the doctor had put her in before they left New York.
Cooper attempted to be a shadow but somehow seemed to fail as he walked by the room.
“I do,” Trina told her friend while she sipped on her glass of wine.
“Do you have more of that?” Avery pointed to her drink.
“Is it okay with the medication you’re taking?”
“So long as you don’t plan on taking advantage of me, I’m sure one glass isn’t going to hurt.”
Sadly, Trina knew firsthand how true that statement was.
“Fine.”
She crossed to the bar to pour her friend a glass.
“The quiet is going to kill me,” Avery said after her first sip. “I don’t know how you do it out here all alone.”
Trina glanced toward the opening of the great room. “I’m never really alone.”
“You know what I mean.”
“What about you? How will it be back in LA?”