When She's Gone

by Palmer, Jane;

  “Who?” He struggled in her grasp, but she had him pinned, and he wasn’t strong enough to break the hold. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Ara leaned in, right next to his face. “Sam. Where. Is. She.”

  “I don’t know.” Panic made his voice crack. His eyes darted around, desperately seeking help and finding nothing but cleaning supplies and paper towels. All out of reach.

  “You’re lying. You supplied her with drugs, and when she couldn’t pay, you threatened her.”

  His face flushed. “Fuck you.” He kicked out with his legs, nailing Ara in both shins. Pain rushed through her, and her grip on his shirt loosened. He wriggled free.

  Furious, she shoved him back against the wall again hard, his head slamming against the brick with a thunk.

  His right hand flew up, fist rocketing into her stomach, knocking the wind from her. She doubled over, gasping for breath, and he skirted around her.

  No.

  She could not lose him. She could not let Sam down.

  Ara grabbed his foot at the last moment, and Grant went flying toward the cement floor. A crack echoed as his face smashed into a shelf on the way down. He flailed, kicking out with his other foot. She struggled to hold onto to him, but his shoe slipped off in her hand.

  Grant, his face bloody, swung open the door of the maintenance closet and started screaming.

  Sam watched in awe as Nick worked. The brush looked tiny in his large hand, and she was struck by the gentleness of his strokes. He’d already created the bulk of the painting—flowers, a lily pond, the forest. Now, he was filling in the detail work.

  The original painting stood next to the replication Nick was making, and he referred to it often. Checking and double-checking the brush strokes, the angle of the sunlight streaming through the branches of the trees.

  “You should eat some pizza.” Sam picked up her own slice, bit off a piece. “Especially while it’s still hot.”

  “I can’t. They’re coming to collect the originals tomorrow. I need to finish before that.” He carefully placed his brush against the canvas and stroked upward. As if by magic, a bird materialized.

  “Almost done.” He stepped back and judged his work, dipping his brush into a can of paint thinner to remove the excess color. “What do you think?”

  She set down her pizza and wiped her hands quickly on a napkin before approaching the side-by-side paintings. Carefully, she scrutinized them.

  “It’s very good. I almost wouldn’t know it’s a forgery.”

  He arched his eyebrows at her. “Except . . .”

  She waved her hand in the upper-right corner. “The sunlight in the original is a bit stronger here. And a slightly different shade. Perhaps add in more primary yellow.”

  He cocked his head, his gaze intense. “You’re right. Damn, you have a good eye.”

  A rush of pleasure flooded over her. “The owners will never know it’s not real.”

  “I hope not.” He loaded up his small brush and squinted at the canvas. “At some point, our luck is going to run out. I’ve been talking to Eddie about getting out now, while we have the chance. Before we get caught, you know.”

  “What does he say?”

  “Not much.” Nick passed a glance behind him to where Eddie and Gina were sharing a laugh. “I’m trying to only steal from people who won’t know the difference. Rich assholes with loads of money who wouldn’t know real art if it bit them.” He shrugged and turned his attention back the paintings. “But there’s always the chance someone will surprise me.”

  “Like I did.”

  He glanced at her and gave a heart-stopping smile. “Like you did.”

  The sharp scrape of metal echoed across the space. The large warehouse door opened, and bright sunlight streamed in. A black Mercedes pulled up and stopped next to the van. Before the engine shut off, the warehouse door shut, casting the entire place back into dim shadows and poor fluorescent lighting.

  “What the hell?” Nick dropped the paintbrush on the table and bypassed Sam, heading straight for Eddie. She quickly followed but only caught the end of his sentence.

  “. . . can’t know Sam’s here.”

  “It’s fine,” Eddie hissed. “They already know.”

  Two men in dark suits and shiny shoes climbed out of the Mercedes. Their looks were so similar, Sam’s initial impression was that they were brothers. They were both young, muscles bunching under their jackets, with thick dark hair and pale skin. The driver sported a goatee and mustache combination. The passenger was clean shaven, but his tie was a bit more adventurous, a wild combination of multicolored stripes.

  Sam tugged on Nick’s sleeve. “What’s going on?”

  He didn’t answer her but gently pushed her slightly behind him. The protective gesture caused Sam’s stomach to clench with nerves. She gripped the back of his shirt.

  “Sasha, Maksim,” Eddie greeted each man in turn, shaking their hands and clapping Maksim on the back. “Good to see you.”

  Maksim smiled, flashing neat, white teeth. “It’s only good when your luck takes a turn.”

  The men laughed, although Sam didn’t understand why.

  Sasha looked beyond Eddie to Gina, who was standing back, quietly waiting. “Are you going to greet me, Kotik, or are you going to leave me waiting?”

  Nick was stiff, tension streaming off of him in waves. Something wasn’t right, and Sam’s heart pounded in her chest. She had the instinctive urge to run.

  Gina stepped forward, brushing her mouth gently across Sasha’s. If Eddie was shocked by the tender gesture, he didn’t show it. His cheeks were practically bursting from his broad grin.

  Maksim said, “Let’s get down to business.”

  “Of course.” Eddie bounced on the balls of his feet. “I told Ivan I wouldn’t let the boss man down.”

  He started walking toward Nick and Sam, and the men followed. Sasha kept a tight grip on Gina’s waist.

  “Nick, you both know.” Eddie waved at his cousin dismissively. “And this is Sam.”

  Maksim’s dark eyes locked onto her. His face was stunningly beautiful, like a piece of marble carved to perfection. But something about him sent a shiver of fear trickling down her spine. It didn’t help that he was coolly appraising her as though she were an object he was buying.

  “What’s going on?” Nick asked. His gaze darted to his cousin before locking back on the men.

  “Eddie, you didn’t tell him?” Maksim tsked. His voice was accented heavily, and Sam could barely make out what he’d said over the rush of blood in her ears.

  “Tell me what?” Nick growled. “Damn it, Eddie . . .”

  “I didn’t have a choice.” Eddie answered, his tone cold. He turned back to Maksim. “I’ve kept my end of the deal, as promised. I’ve delivered the girl, and my debt is paid.”

  What in the hell was Eddie talking about? What deal?

  Nick’s face flushed. “No, that’s not what’s going to happen.” He stepped toward Maksim and tempered his voice. “Listen, we can get you the money, but you can’t have Sam.”

  Sam’s knees went weak. Faster than she could blink, Sasha rotated Gina in front of him, holding her by the neck. Gina yelped in pain and shock.

  “What are you doing?” Eddie froze as Sasha placed his gun to Gina’s head.

  “Nobody move, or I’ll shoot her brains out.”

  Eddie licked his lips, his eyes wide with horror. “What are you doing? This wasn’t part of the deal.”

  Maksim smirked. “The deal is off.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Luke paced the small interrogation room at the police station. It smelled like a combination of sweaty feet and burned coffee, but it was quiet and empty—two things he required at the moment. He’d spent the last few hours dealing with angry parents, one high-priced attorney, and a smart-mouthed druggie.

  Precious time wasted. And he was no closer to finding Sam.

  What he had now was a list of questions he cou
ldn’t answer. Most of them about Ara. Not only had she left Sam alone during the time of the kidnapping, but now she’d inserted herself into the investigation. Why? Because she was trying to help? Or because she was trying to hide something?

  Luke sat in the uncomfortable metal chair and opened the file folder on the table. He scanned Ara’s record faxed over from the Austin Police Department. There was a phone number scrawled at the top. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

  “Maxwell,” a voice barked.

  “Captain Maxwell, this is FBI Special Agent Luke Patrick. It’s my understanding you wished to speak to me directly about Ara Zuyev.”

  “Yes. I gathered from your colleague Thomas that Ara is in some kind of trouble.”

  “I can’t talk about the particulars of the case, but I would like to know your honest impressions of Ara.”

  “You’ve seen her service record?” Maxwell asked.

  “I have. It’s a bit of a mess.”

  The captain barked out a laugh. “She was a bit of a mess. Smart, determined, passionate about the job. Several times she went above and beyond, which is why she was promoted and kept around despite her failings.”

  “What kind of failings?”

  There was silence, and then Maxwell sighed. “Listen, Ara had a lot going for her and could’ve been a hell of a cop. But she had a way of circumventing the rules when it suited her. Before she moved to my squad, she’d been cited twice for insubordination. I thought I could work with her . . . I thought with a little more discipline, she would pull through. I was wrong.”

  “What happened?”

  “During an op, she disobeyed a direct order. Our entire case imploded as a result. Even worse, a necessary suspect died.”

  Luke sat up straighter. “She killed someone?”

  “He died as a direct result of her disobedience. Ara didn’t pull the trigger, but she might as well have.”

  “Is that why she left the force?”

  “Yes. Truth be told, we didn’t give her much choice. It was either resign or take a desk job. There was no way I could allow her back into the field again. She chose to resign, and honestly, I wasn’t sorry to see her go. Neither were a lot of other members of the team.”

  “She didn’t get along with them,” Luke said.

  “That’s putting it mildly. She’s something of a hothead.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Luke switched the phone to his other ear. “Captain, is she dangerous? Do you think she’d become involved in something criminal?”

  There was a very long pause. He could practically hear the captain wrestling with himself, and he understood that battle. “Sir, whatever you say on this phone call will remain between us. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need to know.”

  “I understand.” Maxwell cleared his throat. “Ara operates under her own set of rules. Do I think she could be involved in something criminal if it suited her purposes? Yes, I do.”

  “And she has the brains to pull it off.”

  “She does,” he confirmed. “If there’s anything you take away from this phone call, Agent Patrick, it’s that Ara can’t be trusted. She’ll turn on you in a heartbeat if it serves her own agenda.”

  The warning replayed over and over in his head even after Luke ended the call. He thought researching Ara’s background would help answer his questions, but all it seemed to do was confound them. Clearly from the attack on Grant, Ara was working her own agenda. But what was it? Was she behind Sam’s kidnapping?

  He rose from the chair and gathered the folder from the table. He might not have all the answers he needed, but it wouldn’t be the first interrogation he’d done half-blind. It was damn well time to figure out what in the hell Ara was doing.

  * * *

  Luke bypassed the officers dressed in blue, following the signs directing him to the jail. He’d ordered Ara be placed in a holding cell by herself, and the NYPD had complied. The cell was nothing more than monotonous gray walls, metal bars, and a battered toilet/sink combination. No windows. No sound. Nothing to keep her company or distract her, except for the frigid temperatures.

  He found her pacing the length of the cell, her face tight and haggard. Her short hair was mussed, her pants dusty, any makeup she’d been wearing now long gone. At the sound of his footsteps echoing off of the concrete and metal cage, she spun in his direction.

  “Did you find her?” Ara’s hands gripped the metal bars. “Is she okay?”

  Her question had fresh frustration twisting in his stomach. It was quickly followed by a lingering feeling of failure. He tamped the emotions down, years of practice keeping his voice cool and controlled. “No. We haven’t found her.”

  “But Grant has to know where she is,” she insisted. “Did you ask Kelly about the threats he made against Sam? About the money Sam owed him?”

  “Grant Turner has been questioned thoroughly. He knew nothing about Sam’s kidnapping, nor was he involved in any way. You went after the wrong person.”

  She stepped back, her lips trembling slightly. “That’s not possible. He threatened her.”

  Luke shook his head. He kept his gaze locked on Ara’s face, watching every twitch of her body language. “Sam owed him three grand. Grant shits and that kind of money comes out. He doesn’t need Sam’s money, not really. He’s dealing for the fun of it.”

  “But . . . but . . . he threatened her.”

  “He probably did. But threatening and kidnapping are two very different ball games. The money isn’t enough of a motivation for him to kidnap and possibly kill over. You should’ve stayed out of it.”

  Her jaw clenched. “If I had, you’d still be chasing your tail looking for Grant. I found him long before you did. We’re wasting time. Get me out of here so we can find Sam.”

  “No.”

  Her eyes widened. “You need me.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You assaulted a teenager and interfered with a federal investigation.”

  She sucked in a breath and blew it out again slowly. “All right, I shouldn’t have attacked Grant. But you can’t deny that my connection to Sam gives me an inside track to her life and her friends. You shouldn’t have locked me out of the investigation.”

  She played the game well, changing tactics with an ease that must have made her a good interrogator.

  He was better.

  “I refused to allow you to tag along during a federal investigation,” he said. “I had my reasons.”

  “Because you think I had something to do with the kidnapping.” She swallowed hard, her face turning slightly pale. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “Am I?” His voice was cold and harsh, as stark as the gray-cement walls. “I had my team research you. Thoroughly. It seems you’ve had an interesting career path.”

  “What are you talking about? I quit the police force.”

  “After a suspect died.” Luke studied her expression. She knew exactly where this was going. “Seems you have quite the temper. What happened, Ara? Did Sam piss you off? Were you tired of listening to her complain?”

  She backed away from the bars. He thought he saw her hands tremble before she clenched them into fists.

  “You conveniently left Sam alone right before she was kidnapped,” he continued. “You claimed to not know she was doing drugs, and yet you’ve been her primary bodyguard. You ran to question her friends before we could get to them. Something to hide?”

  Ara glared at him. Her lips were so tightly pressed together, they were nothing more than white slashes.

  “You won’t get the money, you know.” Luke rocked on his heels. “Oliver has already said he won’t pay it.”

  “I told you, I didn’t have anything to do with Sam’s disappearance.” Her whole body was shaking, and she spoke through gritted teeth. “God damn it, I’m trying to find her.”

  “Are you?” He cocked his head. “Or are you trying to muddy the waters?”

  “If I had kidnapped Sam, do you think I’d be stupid enough to end
up behind bars?”

  “Frankly, I don’t know. According to the Austin PD, you were stupid enough to disobey orders and leave a suspect to die.”

  All the color drained from her face. “I never meant for that. I tried—” She stopped suddenly as their gazes met.

  “You tried?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’ve already made up your mind about me.” She jutted out her chin. Defiant. Proud. “What I did, the choices I made . . . if I had to do it all over again, I would.”

  Luke studied her expression, and Maxwell’s warning echoed in his mind.

  She can’t be trusted. She’ll turn on you if she thinks it serves her own agenda.

  “Where is she, Ara? Where’s Sam?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He stared at her, the silence stretching out between them. Ara’s shoulders relaxed, her hands unclenching. Other people might rush to fill the quiet; she seemed to grow more comfortable with it.

  She wasn’t going to tell him what he needed to know.

  Frustrated, Luke moved away from the cell toward the door.

  “Wait,” she said.

  He glanced over his shoulder. She was pressed against the metal bars, a hand outstretched toward him. “Please, let me help you. I want to find Sam. Ask yourself this, if I was behind the kidnapping, then why in the hell did I chase the van afterward?”

  “You followed the wrong one. Was it by chance or by design?”

  For the briefest moment, their eyes locked, and before Ara’s gaze dropped, Luke could’ve sworn he saw the shimmer of tears.

  She took a deep breath. “What can I do to prove to you I didn’t have anything to do with Sam’s kidnapping?”

  “You can’t.” A sudden twinge of sympathy for her tugged at him. The shock of it caused him to pause. “Right now, you’re in the perfect place. If you had something to do with Sam’s kidnapping, I have time to find it. And believe me, I will find it.”

  “There isn’t anything to find.”

  “Maybe.” He hardened himself, remembering the trouble she’d caused him, the holdup in the investigation that might have cost Sam her life. “But, if nothing else, you’re out of my way. And out of my investigation.”