“No one.”
As I thought. No criminal with a reasonably decent IQ will be foolish enough to establish a connection between himself and those men.
“I gave Tatiana a phone.” I meet Reino’s gaze. “I want her to be able to get hold of me if anything happens.”
“Is that wise?”
“Until her memory returns, I won’t risk anything. And even when it does, she knows how dangerous it is out there, especially after what happened. She knows she’s best protected here.”
“What about Jazz?”
“Is everything we discussed in place?”
“Yes.” His tone is cautious. “She’s not going to like it.”
“Not if she doesn’t know. This will be good for her.”
“I agree.” He exhales. “As long as the truth never comes out.”
“Then you better make sure it doesn’t.”
“You can count on that.”
As soon as Reino is gone, I call my forensics guy. He tells me he’s still running tests on the clothes and refuses to give me anything until he’s certain of his facts, even when I threaten his life, which is the reason I work with him. The man is pedantic, but he’s thorough. He never makes mistakes.
Steepling my fingers, I consider the loose ends. Some of the bank employees saw Tatiana’s face. Even if we destroy the security video footage and switch identities, witnesses can still describe her. There may be sketches, which my hacker will take care of. He’ll swap them with sketches of the dead person I’m hoping Reino will find soon. As long as nothing has gone public, we can deal with the problem quickly and quietly.
Our snitch will have to pull all the police interviews in order to make a list of the people who can identify Tatiana. Sadly, they’ll have to disappear. The question is how to do it without raising suspicion. If a handful of bank employees vanish at the same time, it’ll look strange.
Typing the name of the bank into an incognito search engine, I familiarize myself with the prestigious private financial institution. Their social media content is well curated. Impressive. The latest post shows a photo of the bank’s foreign investment division posing on the lawn of an exclusive golf course. The hashtag reads teambuilding. The caption states that the event was arranged by their public relations agency, a top-notch firm in the city.
A quick search of said agency produces some useful information. The management team is young but dynamic. They cater for smaller, boutique-style businesses. Judging by the social media profile of the woman in charge of the bank’s account, she rubs shoulders with the rich and famous, people with private planes and multi-million dollar-yachts.
After the explosion, the bank employees must be tense. It sounds like the perfect time for another team building session. A sunset sailing cruise on the Hudson can be very relaxing. It shouldn’t be too difficult to sell the idea to the PR account manager. An anonymous suggestion from a bank staff member should be enough. After all, when it comes to event organization, the account manager likes to think outside the box. It says so right there in her bio on the company’s website.
Plenty of companies rent out boats for a day. She’d no doubt reach out to one of her contacts. In that kind of business, one hand washes the other. And like fires, boats are hazardous. They can sink. Everyone knows how easily accidents happen.
The loss of so many lives will be tragic. It’s unfortunate. Yet it can’t be helped. When it comes to Tatiana, there’s nothing I won’t do to keep her safe.
Chapter
Seventeen
Tatiana
* * *
Dante and I were separated.
I can’t get my head around that.
Trust can be broken in many ways. Losing trust in someone is serious. I should’ve asked Dante for more details instead of being a coward about it. Maybe I would’ve summoned the courage if Reino hadn’t interrupted us. Now, every time I consider broaching the subject, my nerve fails me.
If we’re together, it’s because we’ve worked through our problems. Is it worth digging up old bones? Isn’t it better to leave the issues we’ve already dealt with in peace? At least for now, until I remember. With my memory loss and the mystery surrounding my disappearance, Dante and I have a lot on our plates.
Determined not to make a big deal out of Dante’s confession, I do my best to push the thought out of my mind. I go about my afternoon, playing with Noah. Jazz entertains us with a practice run of her upcoming audition. The three of us get dressed up in her costumes and dance to the songs from the musical, which results in a lot of laughing and ends up with Noah jumping on her bed.
After dinner, Dante joins me in reading Noah a story. Once we’ve tucked him in, Dante returns to his study to work. I change into a silk nightdress with lace trimmings and read in bed for a while, but I can’t concentrate on the cosy mystery. Too many questions run in circles through my mind.
