It shattered against the surface, its contents staining the paint and the silk of a nearby antique chair. He’d have his obsequious secretary clean it up later.
Fuming, Santana paced to his desk, then back again to the window.
Giving the young Iwasaki too much responsibility in Atlanta had been a mistake on his part. He could admit that now. The boy simply wasn’t capable of handling such a task. But Draco was a professional. So was Crow.
And yet, Wade Parker, Miranda Steele and their team had proven too much for them. Of course, the investigators had had the FBI’s help. Because of them, now Savko was in custody as well. That could prove to be a problem.
Damn it. Damn it all to hell.
He stomped to his wet bar, poured himself another drink.
That night, he’d taken care of Draco as soon as he’d realized what had happened and found him. No one who worked for him could produce such a spectacular failure and be allowed to live. It would send the wrong message.
He’d left in a hurry after that, fearing the all-seeing FBI. It had been dark, the smoke from the explosion had been heavy. He’d been disoriented for a moment.
And then, he’d seen her.
He’d been so close. He could have shot her himself. Would have, if the police hadn’t arrived.
And if he hadn’t been distracted by the misty figure behind her.
He’d seen him, too. In person. And the shock of that sight was as violent as the jolt from Crow’s dynamite. He’d felt as if the San Andreas Fault had opened and swallowed him whole.
He would have killed them both that night, but he couldn’t risk being arrested. Not now. Not when they were so close to the goal. And so instead, he’d hurried away.
His phone buzzed on the desk. He reached for it and checked the message.
He smiled. Doroshenko’s time had come.
The plan was in place. One more attempt should do it, and the matter would be over. The pressure his superiors had been exerting on him would ease at last.
And the new lab site was up and running, progressing as scheduled. The final piece was almost in place. He’d been notified that there had been some delays in the negotiations, but his superior would contact him as soon as the arms deal was completed.
It would be the biggest coup of his life. Much larger than the millions in his secret bank accounts he had amassed over the years. It would mean wealth untold. Power.
It would change the world.
It was impossible to think that people like Wade Parker and Miranda Steele would get in his way. And yet they had before.
He could not allow that to happen again.
Wade Parker. Sheer hatred of the man welled up in his breast. His feelings weren’t rational, he knew. They were interfering with his other plans. The organization’s plans. But he couldn’t help it. It was as if he were born to destroy that man.
In LA he had failed to do so. And what do you do when you fail?
His old mentor, Lee Bach, had said it best. Keep trying until you succeed.
And he knew just how to do that.
He hadn’t wanted to go this far. He had some sensitivity, after all. But these people left him no choice. They simply refused to die.
He put down his drink and moved to his computer. He sat down at his desk, switched on the screen. He switched to the chat window he’d been using and slowly smiled.
As something of an insurance policy, he’d been nurturing the relationship for several weeks now. It was beginning to show fruit. He would use it to his advantage when the time was right.
He rubbed his hands together, turned to his keyboard—and continued his masquerade.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Alone in her room, Mackenzie Chatham stared down at her phone and the text conversation she’d had with her mother earlier that day.
Guilt flooded her.
Miranda knew she’d been avoiding her. She could tell. Miranda always knew things about her. But what else could she do? She just couldn’t face her biological mother after what she’d learned a few weeks ago.
Miranda Steele had searched for her for thirteen years. She’d saved her life. She’d put her own life on the line for her. And for others, too. So many times.
How could Mackenzie live up to someone like that?
And how could she tell her—No. She couldn’t tell her. She wouldn’t.
Instead she confided to friends on the Internet.
Her phone dinged. There was a message from one of them now.
She scrolled to it and smiled at the image of the cute boy with the wavy brown hair next to his text.
‘Sup?
She thumbed back a reply. Hey, Ambrose. Nothing much. You?
Same old. Just wondering if you’ve said anything to your mother yet.
No. I’ve decided not to.
Hmm. It’s your call, but maybe you should tell her.
I can’t.
Are you sure? They say people who don’t take risks never get what they want.
He seemed so wise for his age. But she’d made up her mind.
I just can’t. I’m glad I’ve got you to talk to, though.
Me, too. Maybe we can meet some time.
She hesitated. It was always dangerous going to meet someone you met online.
Maybe, she texted. Hoping to brush him off for now.
There was a pause. Then another message appeared. Is it snowing down there?
Not this year.
Well, we’ve got a lot of snow here in Boston. Maybe you can come see it before it all melts. I could show you the Paul Revere House or take you to the Old State House Museum.
She’d almost skated in the Boston Open one year. From what she’d seen of the city on TV, it was beautiful. What if she did go there? What if she fell in love there?
Maybe, she texted back, meaning it this time. Though she didn’t think her adopted mother would let her go.
She spied the book on her desk.
I’d better get back to studying. Algebra test tomorrow.
Yuck. Yeah, me, too. Talk to you later.
She signed off and opened her textbook. The problems weren’t that difficult, but it was hard to concentrate. Like it had been so often the last few weeks.
Boston.
What would it be like to go there? Maybe she would. Maybe she’d make plans and let her mother know after it was too late to change them.
Why not? Not right away, but maybe in the spring. Spring in Boston must be lovely.
Putting her Algebra problems on hold, she reached for the mouse on her laptop and began to look up airfares to Logan International.
###
Dear Reader,
My heart is still pounding after that night in the back lot of the movie studio? How about you?
But what the heck is Mackenzie getting into? Miranda would give her an earful if she knew. But she doesn’t know...and Mackenzie intends to keep it that way.
Oblivious to her daughter’s activities, Miranda is soon on her way with Parker to a frightening new journey, when Parker’s father asks him to travel to Ukraine to find someone who’s been missing over a decade. At first, Parker flatly refuses, but Miranda can’t say no to Mr. P.
And so they go.
And five thousand miles away from home, they arouse the ire of a very dangerous group.
People who now want them dead.
You’ll want to read this next adventure, because secrets are about to be revealed.
Get it now.
Vanishing Act (A Miranda and Parker Mystery) #13
Copyright © 2018 Linsey Lanier
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Thank you for respecting the author’s work and helping her earn a living.
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