“They don’t know her, though.” With the suite’s dedicated concierge, there’s no reason for us to stop by the main desk.
“Sir, everyone on staff knows Mrs. Vesenina. She tips like she just won a mega jackpot.” He holds up a finger and dictates into his phone. “Mr. Vesenina is looking for his bride. Who can tell me the location of the Grand Fantasy’s Princess Anastasia?” He attaches the voice file to a text thread and sends it. Then he opens two more messaging apps and types in the question.
Messages immediately begin to come in, but none of them causes him to look up and tell me where she is. He gives me updates of where she was seen in the early afternoon. A couple of people send pictures of her, like Natalia sightings are part of a game.
“It doesn’t look like anyone has seen her recently.”
Natalia treats the hotel like it’s her personal apartment, but I don’t think she’d leave it to wander the strip on her own. Every time she’s been out of the hotel, she’s been with me. And if she’d gone for a walk, I’m sure she would’ve sent me some pictures. She sends me random pictures of things like flower arrangements, even if I’m with her when we walk by them.
My heart starts to pound. Something’s wrong.
“Where’s the security office?”
“Sir?”
I pull out my phone to check it. Still nothing. I check our thread. I haven’t had a text from her in hours. Not since she sent a picture of us by the pool. “I think something happened to her. Take me to the office where security personnel monitor the cameras. I want to see if I can find her in the footage.”
“Let me speak to them.”
I pace, my heart hammering. Then it hits me that she might be wearing the gold necklace that my brother convinced me to fit with a GPS tracker. I walk to the far wall and open the app. I haven’t played with it, so I don’t know if it’s working. As soon as I scroll down, I spot the ‘Find k’ button. I jokingly put in a k for kitten. As soon as I tap the button, a Nevada map appears and a halo begins to circle the state, getting smaller and smaller until it hovers over a spot. I expand the screen until I can see where it is.
Jesus Christ.The necklace is in the fucking desert, and it’s not moving.
“Fuck,” I say, my mind reeling.
What does the fact that the necklace is miles away in the middle of nowhere and stationary mean? Is she dead? Did some hitman Egorov hired kill her and bury her body out there?
I feel sick, but tell myself I don’t have time to fucking panic. If she’s alive, I have to get to her as fast as I can.
I jump back on the elevator and go upstairs. I grab the gun that’s stuffed in a false lining of my duffle and then head back downstairs.
As soon as I reach the ground floor, I jog through the casino to get to the parking garage.
By the time I reach the garage, I’m sprinting.
CHAPTER23
Natalia
I wake as I’m being shifted. I’m rolled up in fabric and can’t move my arms or legs. Someone drops me onto a hard surface and then cuts the upper bindings around me and uncovers my face. Pretending to be asleep, I keep my eyes closed and my features as relaxed as I can.
“Yes, it’s her,” Egorov says from above me. “Good work. I’ll take it from here.”
When his voice becomes more distant, I raise my eyelids enough to see I’m in a van with dark carpet and no windows. When the door closes, the overhead light is extinguished.
A few moments later, the van’s engine starts, and we’re moving. I’m alone in the back and use it to my advantage, working the sheet down so that I can tear the tightly coiled tape that’s around my waist and then slide the entire sheet down my legs so I can work them free.
As quietly as I can, I feel around me for something I can use as a weapon. There must be a tool for changing tires. What I come across first is a gas can. The smell is unmistakable, and it’s heavy, with its contents sloshing as we drive. Are we going somewhere so far away and remote that Egorov will need to refuel? Or did he bring his own gas so he won’t need to stop at a gas station where there are sometimes cameras?
After a moment passes, something more ominous occurs to me. He could’ve brought gas to burn something. Like my body. A wave of fear washes over me.
I tell myself to stay calm, but it only partially works. My heart slams against my ribs, and it’s hard to breathe. How long have I been gone? Are Alexei and the police looking for me? My hands search for anything, but my purse and phone aren’t with me of course.
Rolling slowly across the floor, I run my hands over the side walls and into corners. I don’t find a toolbox or anything I can use. My left hand feels my right. I do still have my antique ring from the Finger Lakes shop, but I don’t think I’ll get the chance to pour the powder that’s hidden in the compartment into a glass Egorov’s drinking from. He’s kidnapped me in a different state. It’s not as though he can take me to his house or to a restaurant or hotel.
If I’m lucky he could be driving me across the country. Then maybe we will have to eat and drink along the way.
You can’t count on that. What else can you do?
