Page 31 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

I climb into my SUV and start the engine.

The smart move would be to call both of them right now and remind them that we agreed to keep our distance from Marla until we figure out whether she's a genuine coincidence or a planted threat.

But I know both Russ and Alex well enough to understand that telling them to back off will only make them more determined to do whatever the fuck they want.

I pull out of the warehouse parking lot and head toward the city, intending to stop by the Ivory Wolf myself and see what's going on. The streets are relatively empty at this hour, just a few cars scattered across the lanes, and I settle into the drive with a calm that comes from years of dealing with unexpected complications.

That's when I spot Alex's car.

It's several vehicles ahead of me, a sleek black sedan that I recognize immediately because I've seen it parked outside enough meetings and business locations over the years.

But instead of heading toward downtown where the Ivory Wolf is located,

Alex is driving in the opposite direction. Away from the city center. Toward the highway that leads out into the countryside.

My instincts immediately go on high alert.

Why the fuck would Alex be heading out of town at this time of night?

There's nothing out there except woods, scattered properties, and the kind of isolation that makes it a good place to conduct business you don't want witnesses for.

I slow down slightly, keeping several cars between us so Alex won't notice he's being followed.

My training kicks in automatically, the skills I learned years ago when surveillance and counter-surveillance were part of my daily routine.

I know how to tail someone without being obvious about it, and I know how to read patterns in traffic and movement that most people would miss.

A few minutes later, I spot another vehicle farther up the highway. A black SUV that I recognize just as easily as I recognized Alex's sedan. Russ.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. Alex is following Russ. And now I'm following both of them.

This can't be a coincidence.

Russ was at the Ivory Wolf asking Sharon questions about Marla. Alex showed up after and watched them.

Now they're both driving out of the city in the middle of the night, heading toward the woods where Marla's cottage is supposedly located.

They're going to see her. Both of them.

And apparently neither of them bothered to mention this plan to me.

I feel anger surge through me, hot and sharp, but I force it down and focus.

Getting pissed off won't help me understand what's happening or how to respond to it. I need information first, and the best way to get that information is to follow them and see where this goes.

The highway stretches out ahead of us, dark and mostly empty. The city lights fade behind us as we drive deeper into the countryside, and the trees start to close in on either side of the road.

This is the kind of area where people come when they want privacy and want to disappear from the watchful eyes of the city.

It's also the kind of area where bodies get buried when business deals go wrong.

Russ's SUV maintains a steady speed, and Alex follows at a careful distance. I hang back even farther, using the darkness and the curves in the road to stay hidden.

The farther we drive, the more certain I become that they're heading toward Marla's place.

There's nothing else out here that would draw their attention; nothing else that would make sense given the context of tonight's events.

After about twenty minutes, Russ's taillights slow down. I watch as his SUV turns onto a narrow road that branches off from the highway, disappearing into the trees.