“Yes!”
“Okay, okay. But I’ll keep you to your word.”
“Text me updates.”
“I’m on it.”
As Liam disconnected, he took a breath. God help them all if they were relying on Trace.
Chapter 11
Trace stared at his phone. Liam was not the kind to play practical jokes, but this had the makings of one. Had his voice not sounded strained, Trace might have laughed and forgotten the entire mess. But, as it was, it seemed he was needed. Strange, that. Uncomfortable too.
Freedom from Liam. The price was too good not to jump at it. But, how the hell did he find Reed? If Liam couldn’t find him, how could he?”
Trace sat in his office chair and looked out at the manicured lawn that stretched out acre after acre beyond the foundry’s walls.
Russian mafia?
What in the hell was Liam doing in Vegas?
Trace suddenly smiled. As Liam often reminded him, he didn’t have any skills except for being a social butterfly. And he did have connections in Vegas. So, why not put those skills to use? By the time he was through, Liam would choke on his words.
While he was searching for Reed, he’d also put out feelers for the mysterious Morgan.
But first, he wanted to know more information as to why Liam suddenly up and flew to Vegas. Someone had to know what Liam had been up to these last few days.
Bethany.
* * *
Morgan followed Dmitri down the hall and out the back door. She surveyed her surroundings as he led her to a large shed, nearly the size of a one-car garage. Could she make a mad dash to escape? She could probably outrun Dmitri. He was big and bulky. He had strength, not speed. But there was nowhere to run. Even if she could run faster, she wouldn’t get far. Morgan’s limit was a mile, and that was years ago. From the looks of it, they were far from civilization.
“Inside.” Dmitri opened the door and gestured for her.
In the few years Morgan had worked with Dmitri, she’d become used to his one-word commands. At first, she wondered if it was because he didn’t know the language well enough to say more. But after a while it seemed as if that was just his nature. And any time she asked him questions, his one words would turn into no words.
Morgan glanced nervously at Dmitri before she stepped inside. He had never hurt her before, not beyond a shove or two when she wouldn’t follow orders. She never pressed him further than that before because she knew the outcome. If she didn’t do as they said, then there’d be no reason to keep her around. Would Dmitri be the one to do it? She glanced at him again. There was something about him that she couldn’t name.
“Teach me.”
“What?”
“Teach me. Now.” Dmitri pointed to the work bench where a new MIG welder sat.
“Is this my last job? To show you how to weld?” She took a relieved breath, happy that it wasn’t Liam. When Sonya ordered her to do one last job and then proceeded to give the order to round up Liam, her mind leaped to a gruesome conclusion. Morgan couldn’t do it, not even if they stuck a gun to her head. But, thankfully, it was just to help Dmitri with the MIG. Once he knew how to make proper welds, her work would be done. And then he could snap her neck in two.
This is why she never ate. If she had, she would have lost it on the floor.
He nudged her to the bench.
With shaking hands, Morgan reached for the welding gun to inspect it. “Where’s the wire?”
Dmitri’s gaze shifted.
“And the gas. There’s no gas hooked up.” Morgan sat the gun back down on the bench. The MIG looked brand new, straight out of the manufacturer’s box. “Sonya said she had someone weld before. What did they use?”
Dmitri pointed to the machine. “This.”
Morgan shook her head. “No one welded with this machine.”
“Da.”
“Nyet,” Morgan countered. She had heard that word from him so many times that she now spoke it unconsciously, even occasionally at work. Piper had once wondered if she’d signed up for a Russian language class, to which Morgan quickly nodded and fled the room.
For the first time since she’d met Dmitri, he looked nervous. “Da, the machine was used.”
“Who used it?”
“Marik. Moi brat.”
“Who?”
“My brother.”
“Where is he now?”
Dmitri shrugged.
“You don’t know where your brother is?” When he didn’t answer, Morgan looked around the shed for any of the needed wire or gas tanks. “Dmitri, there’s nothing here. Either you tell me what’s going on or I’ll have to ask Sonya to buy the supplies.”
“Nyet!”
“Then tell me.”
Sweat beads formed at his brow. “Marik said he welded. He didn’t.”
“How did he seal the box?”
Dmitri nodded to a shelf in the corner. The only item on it was large bottle of Super Glue.
“He used glue?”
“Da.”
“Did Sonya find out?”
“Da.”
Morgan wanted to shake Dmitri. If he could understand every word she said, why couldn’t he give her more than one- or two-word answers? But, she didn’t need him to say what she already suspected. If Sonya was anything like her father, which it seemed that she was, then Marik was in trouble and Dmitri was next on the chopping block if he didn’t get this right.
“Is Marik still alive?”
Dmitri winced. “Da, but . . .”
“Not for long,” Morgan filled in. If Dmitri wasn’t working for the Ivankov family, she might have felt sorry for him and his brother. But she didn’t. He had the same amount of blood on his hands as every other member of this mafia. While he had never hurt her, it was understood that he would if she didn’t cooperate. With his size and low brow, she was too afraid to give him an opportunity. “If I help you, I expect help in return.”
He raised a brow.
“I know Sonya wants me dead. If I help you, I want you to swear I’ll get out of this alive, and with no harm to my family or Liam.”
“Nyet.” He shook his head.
“Da!”
He took a step toward Morgan, glaring. “Sonya kill us both.”
Morgan took a step back. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Dmitri’s fisted hand. “Isn’t Marik’s life worth the risk? What is Sonya to you anyway?”
Dmitri flexed his hand. “Vory v zakone.”
Morgan had no idea what that meant, so she waited, knowing he was weighing his options. She hoped he chose Marik. That would allow her to go back to the storage unit and grab the supplies she needed, plus she could leave a message for Liam. He had to be wondering where she was by now and would probably check the storage unit. If she could leave word, then he could get his FBI friend to help. Morgan would never admit to it out loud, but maybe Liam would come in handy after all. As long as Liam stayed far away from her, he would be safe.
“If you help Marik, I help you,” Dmitri said.
Morgan didn’t fully trust anything Dmitri said. If he found a way out of a promise, he’d take it. But at least it’d give her time.
“You’ll need to drive me to the storage unit. I have wire and gas there.”
“Nothing funny,” he warned.
“Nothing funny.” Except a quick note to Liam. Morgan hid her smile as she followed Dmitri out of the shed and into the blistering sun. As long as she stayed on her toes, she might get out alive.
* * *
It didn’t take long to crack Bethany’s silence. Once she knew Liam was in trouble, she gave Trace all the information she had, which didn’t amount to much. But it was a start.
Liam had been working at Brennan Metal Works. Bethany said the company needed Liam’s expertise, but something wasn’t adding up. Why would a common welding shop need Liam’s iron knowledge? And if they did, why didn’t he send someone else in his place? A CEO wouldn’t bother with something like t
hat, not when he had people to do it for him. Unless it had to do with Reed.
“Do you know if anyone by the name of Reed or Morgan works at Brennan?” Trace asked Bethany. He leaned over the back of her chair to get a better look at the computer screen.
“I see Morgan is the manager,” Bethany said, clicking on the website. “But there’s no mention of Reed.”
Trace could have leaned over Bethany all day. Not only did she wear the most intriguing perfume blend, but her blouse was unbuttoned below office standards. He always wondered why Liam never said anything to Bethany, but then he realized Liam probably never noticed the pretty executive assistant who was trying her best to catch his eye. The poor girl.
“Care to have dinner with me tonight?” he casually asked. He knew what her answer would be, but what was the harm in asking? Bethany was sure to keep a bed warm for at least a few nights.
“No.”
Trace smiled at her. She was trying so hard to look affronted that he would ask such a thing, but a slight blush gave her away. If he really wanted to sway her, he could. But first he had to find Reed. If he ever wanted to get Liam off his back, he had to think about business before pleasure. But after he was through, it’d be pleasure. One hundred percent pleasure.
* * *
As Dmitri drove through the gate, Morgan’s heart dropped a foot. Liam was there, waiting at the truck. Her one hope at being saved was now trapped.
“It’s only Liam,” she said to Dmitri, keeping an eye on the gun he held. His grip tightened around the handle.
Dmitri angled the car, effectively blocking Liam between the rows of storage lockers. He swung out, gun trained on Liam.
“Hands!” Dmitri bellowed.
As soon as Liam slid off of the tailgate and raised his hands, Morgan marched over to him, ignoring their precarious positions.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I thought it’d be obvious,” Liam said, eyeing the gun-wielding man. “I was looking for you.”
“Enough talk.” Dmitri shook the gun at Liam.
“Don’t kill him,” Morgan said.
“He knows too much.”
“He knows nothing,” Morgan stated. “We’ll need him if you want to help Marik.”
Dmitri didn’t look convinced. In fact, his nostrils flared. “This is trick.”
“I promise it’s not,” she said. “Liam came to assist me.”
“Assist with what?”
Morgan paused, grappling for an excuse. If she didn’t say something soon, Liam was as good as dead. From the look in Liam’s eyes, he knew it too.
“I wanted him to clean out the storage unit,” she finally blurted. “I knew this was the last job. I wanted all loose ends tied.”
“How did you know?” Dmitri asked.
“Woman’s intuition.” Morgan knew Dmitri wouldn’t argue with her, even though he looked as if he wanted to. “Liam can help Marik.”
“How?”
For crying out loud, she didn’t know. It wasn’t like they needed two welders. Liam was good with sales, but that didn’t help their current predicament. If only he would have stayed at the hotel until she wrote him a note. Then he could’ve worked undercover without anyone being the wiser.
“Who is Marik?” Liam asked, his hands falling to his sides. He had that tone in his voice, the same one he’d had when she first met him and he’d tried to take over the business. He was about to do the same now. Only this time, he didn’t know what he was up against.
“Marik is Dmitri’s brother,” Morgan said, trying to signal him to stand down by glaring. If he asked too many questions, Dmitri would grow nervous.
“Why does Marik need help?” Liam asked, staring strangely at Morgan. “Do you have something in your eye?”
“No,” she snapped, rubbing her eye anyway. “Marik was told to weld a box closed, and he used glue instead.”
“And now he’s in trouble. How much trouble?” Liam asked, now looking to Dmitri. “If you want my help, please lower the gun.”
Dmitri didn’t budge, not that Morgan expected him to.
“Dmitri has to learn how to weld or he’ll be in the hot seat too. They don’t even have the proper supplies. It’d have been impossible for Marik to accomplish anything with what they had.”
“And by helping them, they will help us?” Liam asked, clearly suspicious.
Morgan leaned in. “It’s the best I could do at the time. As soon as Dmitri can weld, we’re superfluous.”
“Enough talk,” Dmitri growled.
“Do you know where Marik is?” Liam asked Dmitri, ignoring his souring mood.
“Nyet.”
“But you must have some idea,” Liam pressed.
Dmitri nodded.
“Perfect.” Liam eyes lit. “We’ll get your brother, and you convince Sonya that Morgan is dead.”
Dmitri scowled, re-aiming the gun. “How do you know about Sonya?”
Without missing a beat, Liam replied, “Everyone knows about Sonya, including the FBI. If you want to get your brother out alive, we need to act before they do.”
“FBI?” Dmitri faltered. “They will deport Marik. He can’t go back to Russia.”
“Why not?” Morgan asked. “Wouldn’t it be safer there?”
Dmitri shook his head. “He’d be dead as soon as the plane landed.”
Dmitri definitely had a weak spot. Saving his brother was the only reason he hadn’t shot Liam yet. It was a stepping stone. If they could find Marik and get him out from under Sonya’s thumb, then Dmitri could . . . couldn’t do anything. As soon as he was found out, he’d be next in line for the firing squad. While Morgan didn’t relish the thought of anyone being murdered, Dmitri would use her as a shield if he could. If he goes down, they all go down.
“What are you thinking?” Liam asked, ripping Morgan away from her thoughts.
“If we free Marik, then Sonya will immediately suspect Dmitri. They both have to get out. What we need is a plan. We have to either unseat Sonya or move Marik and Dmitri out of her reach.”
“And if we do this, Dmitri will promise to help and not sell us out, correct?” Liam asked, focusing on Dmitri.
Dmitri scowled, but finally nodded. His nod was anything but reassuring.
“Let’s pack up the gear,” Liam said. “We’ll come up with a plan on the way.”
“I will have your phone first,” Dmitri said, holding out his hand.
Liam frowned but handed over his phone as requested.
As Morgan walked to the storage unit, Liam moved next to her, placing his hand on her lower back. A show of protection? If he had done that back in Waterfield she would have slapped his hand away. Now, it was comforting. That small gesture reaffirmed she wasn’t alone. For once in her life, someone had her back. That it was Liam was a surprise. And not as unpleasant as she would have suspected.
Chapter 12
Trace opened the door to Brennan Metal Works and stepped inside. The office was small and crowded with shelving and old, dusty office items. While he didn’t give his brother many kudos, he did have to give Liam props for having a stylish, eye-catching office. Of course, he couldn’t say the same for Liam’s private office. That was an eyesore. But this place was a dump compared to the pristine environment he was forced to go to five days a week.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked. The look in her eye frightened him a bit. He wasn’t sure in which way she might want to help him.
With her bright hair, he should’ve noticed her right away. However, the wood paneling made the office darker than what it should be and she blended into the cluttered surroundings.
“I’m looking for Morgan Brennan.”
“She’ll be out of town for a few days.” She stood and stretched out her hand to shake Trace’s. The result was way too much cleavage for a workday and no happy hour. “My name is Charlene. Can I be of assistance?”
“Would you happen to know Reed Taylor?” Trace wasn’t sur
e of Morgan and Reed’s connection, but it had to be something to do with this dump.
“No, sorry.”
“Charlene, can you —” A pretty, honey-blonde gem popped out of a private office only to stop when she spotted Trace. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were busy. I’ll talk to you later.”
Charlene waved her to come forward. “Piper, you don’t happen to know of anyone by the name of Reed Taylor, do you?”
“Um, no.” Her nose wrinkled adorably. “Is he a client?”
Charlene shook her head.
Trace maneuvered over to Piper, his hand already taking hers. “I’m Trace Hayes, Liam’s brother. He’s sent me on a wild mission to find Reed Taylor.”
“You’re Liam’s brother?” Piper look at him skeptically.
“We don’t look alike. Different mothers and all that.” He shrugged. While he would never be as handsome as Liam, he had a thousand times the personality. And it wasn’t as if he was hideous. He just couldn’t compete with Liam. He doubted many could. But he did just fine, thank you very much.
“Oh, well, I’m not sure how to help you. I don’t know anyone by the name of Reed Taylor. Liam went with Morgan to Vegas.” Her lips turned down. “Well, at least I think he did. Morgan never lets anyone go on Vegas trips with her. But when he didn’t show today, I suspected he might have twisted her arm after . . .”
“After?” Trace prompted.
“Well, they might’ve had a late night together last night. But I still wouldn’t think Morgan would’ve let him go.”
“My brother does what he wants. If he sets his mind to something, no one can stop him.” But it was interesting that Liam had a “late night.” The poor old dog never got out much. Maybe it’d do him some good. If nothing else, it might lessen the time Liam had to spend hounding him.
Piper smiled, and a sweet dimple appeared. “Sounds like Morgan.”
Trace sighed dramatically for effect. “It sounds like we’ve both been through a lot.” Trace smiled when she giggled.
Melting Point Page 9
