Gabby laughed. “It’s not what you think, but if you can handle the party for a while, I’d appreciate it.”
Betty raised her perfectly penciled-in eyebrows. “You’ve got some ’splaining to do,Camille Walker.”
When Gabby walked back into the party, Valentina strode toward her with purpose. “It took me a minute to remember his face, but now that I did, I’m really confused. Why were you talking to Eduard Smirnov?”
At that moment, Gabby knew that Valentina wasn’t the mole, but she couldn’t risk her wrecking her plan. They were standing right next to a quiet booth, not a bad place to ride out the party… “Sit down, and I’ll tell you.”
Saturday night, storage closet, way back of the Velvet Underground Speakeasy
An hour and a half later, Gabby was dripping with sweat, and her muscles were Jell-O from manhandling people larger than herself into the storage room. She’d essentially done an hour of CrossFit and was no closer to being sold on the concept. Like every mom, Gabby always carried a water bottle, but this was the first time she could remember being actually thirsty in a long while. She chugged a bottle of Perrier from the bar and surveyed her handiwork.
In the little storage room, she had assembled all the players: the EOD, all the relevant Mafia, her money-laundering boss, and anyone who might be the mole, aka, Smirnov, Alice, Sergei, Kramer, and Markus. Everyone but Valentina, who was safely slumped over in a corner booth. Gabby had dosed her again just a second ago.
As Alice started to blink awake—thank god, because there was only so long she could keep everyone locked in the back room—Gabby asked, “Is everyone comfortable?” As soon as it slipped out of her mouth, she wanted to take it back. Of course they weren’t comfortable. She had zip-tied their hands and propped themagainst the wall on a bare concrete floor in party clothes. And to boot, the air-conditioning didn’t seem to be working in this particular area of the restaurant. Spirit Airlines would be a step up.
In response to the glares, Gabby said, “I apologize for—” She gestured to the room. “All of this. It was the best I could do under the circumstances.” It’s not like they would have met her at a coffee shop. “And I don’t mean to eat in front of you, but I’m a little shaky after all of that.” She could actually feel her blood sugar dropping. “Mmm, is this fig jam? The appetizers at this party really turned out great.”
A roomful of seasoned spies and criminals stared back.
After she finished a couple of bites, she said, “Thanks for your patience. Luckily, it seems like no one had an adverse reaction to the tranquilizer.”
In a heavy Russian accent, Orlov asked, “Why don’t you just pass out some juice boxes while you’re at it.”
He could laugh, but the joke was on him at the moment. Every single one of them had underestimated her. For the first time in her life, Gabby hadn’t underestimated herself. And just look what she’d done.
With only a week of training, Gabby had to go on instincts, using the skills she already had, and that was sitting everyone down and letting them know what she thought of them. It had worked on Kyle, Lucas, and Granny yesterday. A good productive conversation would solve a lot of the problems. Not that everything was perfect. She hazarded a furtive glance at Markus. She’d tranquilized and tied up the first guy who had asked her out on a date post-divorce, but there was no helping this. She was doing the best she could to save her family.
The only person who looked worse than her was Kramer. If theEOD didn’t arrest him after this, the Russian Mafia would do worse. “That suka is your secretary?” Orlov said to Kramer in a flat, “murder is my business” tone of voice.
“Executive assistant,” she answered for him.
Orlov made a low rumbling noise that didn’t bode well for Kramer. He might not even be safe in prison.
“I brought you all here for a couple of reasons,” Gabby announced from the front of the room. “Before we get to those, I’m going to give you all a little context.” She paused to make sure they were listening. “I believe the story starts with Mr. Kramer laundering money for Mr. Orlov here.” Gabby didn’t know exactly how Orlov made his money, but Wikipedia suggested human trafficking, racketeering, drug trafficking, extortion, murder, robbery, smuggling, arms trafficking, gambling, fencing, prostitution, pornography, money laundering, fraud, and financial crimes.
Kramer didn’t deny it. There was no point.
“Why? For those cars?” Gabby accused. “What about your family?”
Orlov groaned, clearly pissed that he had managed to align himself with so many incompetent assholes.
“Next, we have Mr. Smirnov. Would you like to introduce yourself?” She said it like she was introducing another kid to the kindergarten class.
“Go ahead. You seem to be enjoying this,” Smirnov growled.
She was.
“Okay, just correct me if I get anything wrong. Mr. Smirnov is also in the Russian Mafia.” She said it like she was identifying a hobby he and Orlov shared. “So you two have something in common, but I’m guessing you know that, not that I know how the Mafia works.”
Now Alice groaned.
“Mr. Orlov, you will probably be upset to find out that Mr. Smirnov hired me to steal the wire transfer codes from Kramer. This is why we’re here. I don’t have the transfer codes that Mr. Smirnov wants, and I don’t know how to get them. There is at least one guy stationed at my house who is ready to kill my whole family if I don’t provide them tonight.” She looked at Alice when she said this.
Alice sat up straighter. “Why didn’t you come to me with this?”
“Because Smirnov told me one of you was a plant assigned to watch me. How was I supposed to know who? That’s why you all are tied up too. One of you is Mafia.”
Markus shook his head. “This doesn’t make sense. If you’re working for…”
