Vanishing Act

by Linsey Lanier

  “No, just the ones that come to us.”

  Parker reached across the table and held her hand for a moment, cherishing her touch. He had to admit he had a bad feeling about tonight. He was worried about her. And there was something else. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t tell her about the health checkup he’d had recently, or the text from his doctor that he’d been ignoring. It wasn’t the right time.

  Miranda watched Parker’s handsome face and saw something strange in his eyes. Was he hiding something from her? No, he was just trying to protect her, like always.

  She got that. Lord knew, she’d been beside herself the times she’d thought she’d lost him on a case.

  Once again, she thought of what he’d said back in Atlanta. Retirement might end all that pain and fear. But they’d be shirking their duty, the destiny they’d both been called to.

  She gave his hand a squeeze, then picked up her fork as her mind went back to the two victims of Udar. “Vlad’s case was kept hidden, while Gurka’s nephew was out in the open. Why?”

  Parker sat back again, cradling his coffee cup. “To make a statement, perhaps.”

  “To show others that they’d better not get out of line. This is what happens if you go to the police.” She thought about that and frowned. “Finding Vlad’s body this morning was a fluke. And if this is how Udar deals with people who question their operation—”

  “There could be a lot of undiscovered bodies.”

  Miranda shuddered at Parker’s ominous words.

  She pushed her plate away. “It looks like those homeless boys near the train station were telling the truth. Udar recruits people with promises of riches, then enlists them in their criminal enterprises.”

  “We still don’t know for certain if Sasha was ever homeless or if he was even with the people we met near the train station.”

  “But he could have been. The older man might have known him. And if that’s so, it’s likely Sasha has been at Udar in some capacity.” The exact type of capacity made her heart ache.

  Parker rose, cleared the dinner plates and set another smaller one down in front of her.

  She stared at it. Creme brulee garnished with mango and coconut. “Dessert?”

  “Try it.”

  She lifted the fork and took a bite. It was out of this world. “Oh, man. That’s good.”

  Smiling with self-satisfaction, Parker sat down again. “All right, let’s assume Sasha did end up at Udar. There are only three possible scenarios.

  “Okay,” she said, licking coconut from the corner of her mouth.

  “One, he left voluntarily.”

  She grimaced. “Udar isn’t the type of organization you can leave of your own free will. Gurka’s nephew Rinat proved that.”

  “No, it isn’t. That leaves us with the other two possibilities. Either Sasha was killed trying to leave, or he’s still involved in the operation.”

  The idea took her breath. She sat back and put her fork down in the empty dessert dish with a clink. “For all we know, we could see Sasha at the club tonight. We could walk right past him and not even know him.”

  “Assuming we’re going to Udar tonight.”

  Miranda raised her chin and met Parker’s gaze. “Yes, assuming that.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And if we do, we’re going at the request of Inspector Gurka. Even though Sasha is our priority, our focus tonight would be to execute his objective.”

  She let out a slow breath. “To get whatever information goes with that flash drive.”

  “Exactly.” He took another sip of coffee. “Are you sure you want to risk it?”

  “I don’t think we have a choice.”

  Parker grew silent. He didn’t care for her answer.

  She wasn’t sure she could pull off getting into Irina’s office, much less pilfering evidence. But she had to try. “So what’s our plan?”

  Wrestling with duty and his need to protect her, Parker drew in a slow breath. “We should continue our ruse as amateur fighter and manager, and say we want to look at the facilities more closely.”

  “So we’re going?”

  Picking up his coffee cup, he nodded.

  Miranda felt a wave of both relief and panic. “At least that Sambo trainer won’t be there, thank goodness.”

  Now Parker’s lip turned up in a teasing grin. “Are you afraid of a little Sambo training?”

  She put her head in the air. “It’s not my style. And it will be better if I don’t have a lesson.”

  “I agree.”

  She looked at the time on her phone. “How about this? We’ll go there in about an hour and a half. I’ll bring a bag with some workout clothes, saying I’m ready to work with the Sambo trainer. Sergei or whoever else is on duty tonight will tell us we’re too late for the trainer and remind us he leaves at five. I’ll start to pitch a fit. You know. ‘Do you know who I am? I’m Peaches from America.’ That sort of stuff.”

  Parker had to smile at the image she was conjuring in his mind. “And I’ll ask to complain to the management. Once I have their attention—”

  “I’ll sneak down that hall in the back to Irina’s office.”

  “What if she’s there?”

  “She probably won’t be at this hour. But we can demand to see her when I pitch my fit to verify.”

  Parker nodded approvingly. “That should work. I’ll keep both of them distracted while you get into Irina’s office.”

  She was feeling the nerves already, but she gave him a nod. “I can do that.”

  “Be careful, Miranda.”

  “I will be. You, too.”

  “Of course. I want you to promise me something.” He reached across the table for her hand again.

  “What?”

  He fixed her with his rock hard gaze. “If at any time you feel things are going wrong, you’ll stop and get out of there.”

  She didn’t like that idea, but she could see it was the only way she was going to get him to agree to this scheme. “I promise.”

  “Very well.” He let go of her hand and reached for his phone. “I’ll call Gurka and tell him we’ll be there at eight.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A parking spot near Udar was even harder to find than the night before.

  They had to drive around several blocks for at least fifteen minutes. Finally, when Parker had made the last turn onto the road in front of the club, someone pulled out, and a spot opened up twenty feet from Udar’s entrance.

  Parker pulled into it, and they clapped gloved hands together in victory.

  Hoping it was a good omen, Miranda got out and made her way to the door with Parker at her side.

  Steeling herself for the task at hand as they marched over the sidewalk, she peered into a dark crevice between two buildings. Nobody lurking there. But things would be different if they got jumped tonight.

  They both had Gurka’s Fort-17s in their pockets. She’d decided carrying a bag would be too cumbersome, so she’d worn her workout clothes under her coat.

  She just had to make sure she kept her coat on once they got into the club so nobody noticed the gun.

  As Parker opened the door for her, she looked back and thought she saw one of Gurka’s men in an unmarked car just in front of the shop next door.

  They had help tonight. Everything would be okay.

  Giving Parker a confident grin, she stepped inside the club and found the same young woman behind the gleaming desk.

  Tonight she didn’t look so happy.

  Her hair was mussed, and she wore a haggard expression as she spoke to someone on the phone.

  “Yes. Yes, right away. I am sorry.” She hung up and blinked at Parker and Miranda in surprise. “Oh. You are back.”

  Parker gave her a gracious smile. “We are. Are you busy tonight?”

  She began shuffling through papers on the desk. “Oh, yes. We are very busy getting ready for the event tomorrow night.”

  “What event?” Miranda asked.
>
  “You do not know? Why, the Eurasian Beat Down.”

  Miranda glanced at Parker with a raised brow. “Eurasian Beat Down?”

  “Yes, it is a big mixed martial arts event. It is held at the sports complex downtown.”

  That was interesting. “Oh? Are some of your people fighting in it?”

  Without looking at them, the receptionist put down a stack of papers and reached for another. “Yes. Egor Kluka. He is only third on the card, but he is very good. Irina expects him to win.”

  Miranda bet he was scared not to.

  But why was someone from Udar entered in a big MMA event? She’d think the place wouldn’t want the attention. Maybe they had to participate to keep up the front.

  The receptionist turned toward the entrance to the exercise area just as the giant they met last night came strolling around the curved Plexiglas backdrop.

  “Oh, Sergei. There you are. Do you know where the extra flyers are? I need them right away.”

  “I will get you some.” Sergei turned and smiled at Miranda and Parker as if they were long lost buddies.

  Tonight the bulky tattooed man was dressed in a black, short sleeved mesh shirt that showed off his big muscles. His form-fitting cotton gym slacks did the same, and his tight red curls were slick with gel as if he’d just come from the shower.

  The Udar logo on his chest felt like a flashing warning signal to Miranda.

  “Ah, my American friends,” he said. “I was afraid you were not coming back.”

  Parker smiled back. “But here we are.”

  Miranda took a cocky step toward him. “I’m all ready for my Sambo lesson.”

  Sergei folded his arms over his massive chest and eyed her up and down as if he were counting her bones and wondering how many he could break. “Are you now? Well, you are in luck. Dmitry decided to work late tonight.”

  Miranda suppressed a gulp. “He did?”

  Sergei chuckled as if he knew she wasn’t expecting that answer. “Yes, he did. Come. I will introduce him to you.”

  Uh oh. She’d forgotten to make a plan B.

  As they headed for the stairs, Miranda shot Parker a nervous glance, but he kept his stoic game face in place.

  Okay, she could still manage to get into Irina’s office. She’d just have to do it a little differently.

  They strolled through the exercise area with the glass dome high overhead and up the silver stairs.

  Her new trainer was waiting for her among the black heavy bags.

  Dmitry was a little shorter than Sergei, but stockier. He wore a royal blue workout getup stretched over thick muscles. He had black hair and eyes, a long hook nose, thick lips and a short black beard.

  He reminded Miranda of a pirate.

  As they approached, he eyed her with the hungry look of a shark.

  Well, she was no damsel in distress waiting to be rescued from him. She’d deal with whatever he threw at her.

  “Good to meet you, Ms. Steele,” he said shaking her hand in a strong grip after she reached him.

  “This is Dmitry Sokolov,” Sergei told them. “He is from Moscow. We call him Sokol. It means a fast bird of prey.”

  The two men chuckled together.

  Correction. Not a shark. A vulture.

  “And Ms. Steele is known as Peaches.”

  Sokol grinned at her. “How sweet.”

  She should have picked a tougher sounding nickname. Better make this look good. “Okay, Sokol. What have you got for me?”

  His eyes glowed with amusement. “First, a good workout.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Oh, boy.

  Feeling as if she were stripping naked, Miranda peeled off her coat, revealing the black-white-and-blue sports bra and yoga slacks she’d worn. Good thing she’d come dressed for this.

  Carefully she handed the coat to Parker, making sure the gun didn’t slip out of the pocket.

  He tucked it over his arm with a confident nod that told her he was in control. He’d make sure she was covered.

  Sokol grinned at her. “Let’s start with the battle ropes.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  Not so much fun. The next hour was pure hell.

  In the far corner of the gym, while Parker looked on, Sokol had Miranda doing double waves, shoulder presses, and power slams with the thick hundred foot ropes until her whole body ached. Then without a break, he took her to the heavy bags and made her do ten rounds. After only a five minute time out, he had her jogging around the edge of the gym floor.

  Exhausted, she trotted over to where Sokol was standing with Parker. She bent over, hands on her knees until she caught her breath.

  At last she was able to speak. “That was kind of light, but a good workout. Guess I’m done, right?”

  Sokol’s chuckle sounded downright sadistic. “Oh, no, Peaches. We are just getting started. I have not shown you any Sambo moves yet.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She’d forgotten about that part. “Okay then, show me what you’ve got.”

  As her new trainer led her over to the kickboxing ring, Parker pulled her close. “You don’t have to do this, Miranda.”

  “I’m okay,” she whispered back. “I can handle it.”

  More determined than ever, she climbed into the ring. Though her arms and legs ached, she danced around in the middle of the ring and threw few punches.

  “Hands at your side,” Sokol commanded, sounding like a general in the Red Army.

  She dropped her fists.

  “First I will show you this technique. Lean back slightly, drive the knee up. Like this.” He performed the movement.

  “Cool,” she said. It was a nice move.

  “Then use the full force of the thigh for a power kick. Like this.”

  He grabbed her wrist with the same maneuver she’d used last night when she and Parker were jumped. Then he crouched and came at her hard with his leg.

  She twisted out of the wristlock and jumped away in the nick of time.

  “Impressive,” he said smiling. Then he got hold of her other wrist and came at her from the opposite side.

  Again she managed to evade.

  “You are pretty good.” He stepped close to her.

  She backed away. “Yeah, I am.”

  Suddenly he did a flying leap and caught her in the ribs. Down she went, cussing as she hit the mat.

  He was trying to break her down. She was sure of it. Why, she wasn’t certain. Was it just ego? Or had he guessed what they were up to? She wondered what part he really played in Udar’s organization.

  Laughing he moved to her and held out a hand. As she took it and let him pull her up, something was familiar in the way he moved.

  Was this the guy who had attacked her last night? Was he a ruthless criminal? Did he know who she and Parker really were? The questions raced through her mind as she followed the sadist’s instructions.

  He showed her a calf crush, a scissors takedown, and several versions of a hip throw.

  When she’d hit the mat for the fourth time, she was ready to cry uncle. “Okay, that’s enough.”

  “Is Peaches turning sour?” he mocked.

  “I’m just done for the night.” She glanced over at Parker, who had been watching from the sidelines with her coat still safely over his arm.

  His jaw was tight. She knew it was hard for him to watch her being thrown around like a sack of potatoes.

  She got up and walked over to him. He helped her out of the ring as Sergei appeared.

  He grinned at her panting sweaty condition. “How did you like your first training session?”

  Parker raised a finger. “Sergei, I’d like to speak with you about your training methods.” He nodded toward Sokol. “You, as well. Is the manager here?”

  Sergei gave Parker a hard look. “Irina is not in tonight. I am in charge.”

  Sokol jumped out of the ring and sauntered over to them with a cocky air. “Are you questioning my instructional abilities, Mr. Parker?”


  Miranda interrupted. “Hey, you guys can stand around here and jaw if you want to. I need a shower.” She pointed toward the opening that led to the hall in the rear. “Are they back there?”

  “Yes,” Sergei said. “Feel free to help yourself.”

  “Thanks.” She gave Parker an amateur-to-trainee pat on the arm. “I won’t be too long.”

  He nodded, sending her the signal that he’d make sure to keep these two occupied.

  Wishing she could have taken her coat with her, she trotted across the floor and slid through the archway.

  Here we go, she thought.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  In the well-lit modern hallway, Miranda looked to her left and spotted the women’s shower room. Better check it out just to make this look good.

  She made her way over to it and stepped inside. Here she found sparkling white tiles, rows of light blue lockers and shower stalls around a tall divider. The antiseptic smell told her the place had been cleaned recently, but no one was in here.

  That was a good sign.

  She grabbed a towel from a stack, draped it around her neck, and stepped out into the hall again.

  No one was here, either.

  She eyed the office door that belonged to Irina Voloshyna, according to the description Parker had given her. After waiting a beat, she took a deep breath and strolled over to it.

  No light under the door. That was good.

  Casually she put a hand on the knob and glanced down the hall both ways.

  Nobody coming. She opened the door a crack.

  Sergei had said Irina wasn’t in, but if by chance she was sitting here in the dark, anyway, Miranda would just say she’d gotten lost.

  She wasn’t.

  Swallowing hard, Miranda stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

  The office was dark except for the city lights streaming in through a tall window behind the desk.

  Heart pounding, she took out her phone and used it for light as she crept around the desk.

  It was made of fancy polished wood, with lots of carving and some gold inlay. The chairs were nice, too, with rollbacks and scrolling armrests and luxurious upholstery. As elaborate as the hotel suite Parker had booked.

  This lady might want to look tough, but she sure liked to pamper herself.