"Understood."
"How's the girl we pulled from the apartment?"
"Dr. Morozova says she's in good health," he says. "He fed her, at least. No serious injuries. Her family's been contacted, they're in Georgia. She's lucky, unlike some of the families we've reunited, they were ecstatic to hear from us. They've been searching for her since she disappeared."
"At least there is one piece of good news," I sigh.
Roman comes out of the room, Ilya's loud wailing follows until the door shuts and the sound cuts off abruptly. "Do you believe him when he says that's all he knows?" Roman asks me. "He's willing to invest millions of dollars to buy a girl and an apartment without face-to-face contact? Surely even Ilya isn't that stupid."
"He knows more than he's telling us," I say. "He's banking on the family connection to stop us from beating the shit out of him. Kolya is compiling images of all the guests and the members of the club in the last year with any medical connection. Alexsey knows him best. Have him be the one to go through the pictures with him, let him play good cop, then you can come in to break a few bones, maybe take a finger or two to properly motivate him."
Roman looks as happy as if I just offered him the keys to my Bugatti Chiron. "I love you, man." His smile fades. "When are you going to tell Adam?"
When am I going to tell my best friend that I'm torturing his brother? "When we have everything we need to know. Everything he's capable of giving us."
***
I find Ava outside on the terrace, pacing the stream one way, crossing over the little foot bridge, and circling back again. Round and round like a mouse on a wheel. Her face is blank but when she sees me, her chin trembles.
"Was it him?" she asks.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry," she says, stepping over carefully as if she's not sure if I'll welcome her touch. I open my arms for her. "I didn't- I almost wanted to be wrong. I didn't want it to be somebody you knew. Was he able to tell you anything helpful?"
"We're close," I say.
"Dmitri?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you get all monosyllabic when you're sad?" She snakes her arms around my waist, soothingly rubs my back under my jacket.
"So it seems." I kiss the top of her head.
"Do you think…" she pauses for a moment.
"What?"
She's looking up at me, her midnight blue eyes are so sad. "Is it possible that Adam and his family's company is behind this?"
I step back from her, shocked. I've been trained to examine every angle, every possible outcome, but this? It was never a consideration.
Father would have examined this possibility, I think bitterly. He wouldn't allow emotion to cloud his judgement.
"I…" I shake my head firmly. "No, of course not. Ilya has always been a weak and entitled little prick. He lives off an allowance from his father. But Adam's a good man. No."
"Of course," she says hesitantly. "You've known him your entire life."
What she isn't saying is that I've known Ilya just as long.
***
moy Vtoroy -Russian for "my second" a bratva rank designation
Chapter Twenty-Seven
In which there are hard conversations and plenty of denial.
