“Seems like it.”
“Any track marks?”
“No. But it had been raining pretty heavily for the past few days. It’s possible that the rain wiped everything out.”
I swallow. We’re back to square one. “Good work. Bring it to the police and let them do the forensic analysis and put a detail on Alex. I don’t want her to leave our sight.”
“Sure thing,šefe.”
I walk back to the car just as the rain starts again. Therhythmic movement of the wipers is hypnotic, but my thoughts are still in full force.
“Why doesn’t any of this make sense?” I let out a huff. “No attempt at contact, no signs of struggle.”
“They could have drugged him.”
“And why the fuck is his car just lying around here? It’s not their way of doing things.” The Russians have a knack for fire, and my bet is their preferred way would be to burn the vehicle, rather than going through the trouble of wiping it clean.
“Maybe we’re looking at it from the wrong angle?” Dom glances at me before pulling his gaze back to the road.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What if the Russians didn’t take him?”
“No? It was aliens then, wasn’t it?” I shake my head.
“I’m just saying. You were fighting one moment, and the next he was gone, along with the girl you were fighting about.” He shrugs.
“And the trail of dead bodies?”
“You mean your uncle, whom he hated?”
“He was still family,” I respond, but my voice lacks conviction. I’ve explored the same angle plenty of times. Shit, I’ve explored every angle there is. Luka is a stubborn bastard.
I forced him to work with our uncle. I’ve let the man experiment with Luka’s brand-new sex club. My tongue runs over my top teeth. My brother bought it wanting to prove himself. To Father, to me, and maybe to himself. After our father died, the need to make something of that place grew even bigger. I took it away to keep Uncle complacent.
Fuck.
My hand runs through my hair. I took over his club while he was still mourning our father. That club was his way of dealing with the loss, and I bulldozed over it with my way of dealing—taking charge of everything around me. Pulling the reins tighter.
But running away isn’t his M.O. Neither is killing our blood, no matter how despicable Uncle was.
The elevator pings as it opens its doors on the top level of my casino, ready to take me down to my office. I step a foot inside, but a nervous voice stops me from entering fully.
“Going downstairs?” Johnny asks, a smile plastered on his face. We have worked together for quite a while, but I guess he senses my mood.
“That was my plan, yes.” I fucking hate hypothetical questions.
“It’s just…” He rubs the back of his neck. “We have those manager interviews lined up.”
Fuck, I completely forgot about that. “When?”
“Now?”
“Is that a question?”
“No. The interviews are now.” He stands taller, like he finally decided to put his foot down.
I dip my head. “Let’s head to work then.”
