I contemplated letting it ring to voice mail. But there was no point putting this off. Kat was an attorney, a highly intelligent professional who resolved her problems with words. She could probably be reasoned with, woman to woman. And given the choice between a phone call and a face-to-face meeting, option number one seemed far preferable.
I connected the call.
“Ms. Donovan,” she said in a familiar voice. It was somehow razor sharp and honey smooth in equal measure, like she could cut me from throat to groin and leave my insides on the floor without either of usfeeling a thing. “I’m sure you already know why I’m calling, so let’s do each other the courtesy of not wasting anyone’s time. Where is he?”
“You mean Charlie? Last I checked, your watchdog was taking a nap.”
“I’m in no mood for games.”
“Is that why you sent him to handle your little scavenger hunt? How convenient for you. You don’t even have to play.”
“Where is Cameron?” she demanded.
“What makes you think I know?”
“You’re both searching for a valuable car in a very small town. I have no doubt you’ve run into each other. Tell me where he is.”
“Why? What’s Cameron to you?”
“A problem.”
A feral protective instinct flared inside me. “No, Kat! He’s a child, and what you’re doing is shameful.”
“Cameron’s age is of no consequence.”
“The law says otherwise. But I forgot, you don’t really care about the law, do you?”
She paused, as if I’d finally landed a blow. “I answer to a very powerful man,” she said in a low, measured voice. “If you don’t tell me where Cameron is hiding, mark my words, my watchdog will find him. And he will not be as gentle with his quarry as I will.”
“You think Charlie’s working for you?” I laughed at how foolish she must be to believe that. “Charlie’s only out for himself.”
“All the more reason you would do well to let me handle this.”
“Aren’t you tired of handling problems for powerful men?” The line went silent. I’d poked a viper with a short, sharp stick, and I could practically hear the rattle of her tail through her pause. “Apparently, you’re not much of a boss bitch after all. I always thought you were smarter than them. I guess I was wrong.” I didn’t bother to wait for an answer before disconnecting the call.
I held the phone to my chest and sagged back against the handrail, my heart hammering against the ice bucket as the full weight of thatconversation settled upon me. I had just drawn a line in the sand. Picked sides in a turf war against Feliks’s most trusted accomplice—a woman who had the Russian mob behind her, a legal degree on her side, and all the resources and power to crush me.
I was screwed.
And worse, Kat probably knew exactly where I was.
I opened the menu of apps on my phone, scrolling through screens of social media icons, search engines, and weather and news sites, until I found an icon for an app I didn’t recognize, conveniently hidden on a page of others I rarely used. It appeared to have been downloaded to my phone last week—probably by Cam—and was more than likely tracking my phone for Kat. I deleted the suspicious app from my device, hoping that was the only spyware on it.
My phone buzzed again. I peeked at it, expecting to see the initialsB.B.flashing hot on my screen. But it was only Steven.
Where are you?
Shit!I hustled down the remaining flights, changed my clothes in the bathroom, and sprinted down the boardwalk, sneaking back into the Royal Flush through the entrance to the casino. I took the elevator to the floor just below mine, following signs for the ice machine. If Marco’s ice bucket was going to be my alibi, it would need to look convincing. I filled it and carried it up the last set of stairs, walking briskly toward my room.
Nick’s door opened as soon as I rounded the corner. He reached out, catching me by the shoulders in the middle of the hall.
“I was looking for you,” he said, raising an eyebrow at my bucket. “What are you doing out of your room?” His hair was damp from the shower, his face freshly shaven. He couldn’t have been searching long.
“I was just getting some ice,” I said, displaying the evidence.
He held fast to my puffy sleeve as I tried to step around him. “Wearing your coat?”
“I was cold.” I slithered under his arm to my door.
