And now I’m bawling. Like a mood-swinging crazy woman.
The stethoscope is back at my chest, and he’s pushing me back against the sofa again.
I realize this isn’t a panic attack. This is a tantrum or a fit of rage. This is me being angry over things I can’t control.
Dr. Pretty Eyes is kneeling on the floor beside me. “You have to calm down. If you’re pregnant”—I shoot him my best fuck you look and his voice goes stern—“you have to calm down. For the baby’s sake.” He runs a hand over my shoulder. “I’ll find out about your friend while you go upstairs for an OB check and I’ll come up and find you as soon as I know. But you have to go up now.”
He’s right and I know it, but it’s been four hours, and still, no one has said anything about Kostya. If I want information, I don’t have a choice about going upstairs. That’s the only reason I let this guy guide me to the elevator and help me inside.
It isn’t until I’m in a bed upstairs with a monitor wrapped around my stomach and a nurse checking my blood pressure that an FBI agent walks in and clears the room with a flash of his badge.
I’m tired and I’m angry. I’m frustrated and I’m desperate. The last thing I want to do is play Twenty Questions with Inspector Fucking Gadget.
“Miss Lowe?”
I don’t bother with an answer. He knows who I am.
“I’m Special Agent in Charge David Quinn. And I need to ask you some questions.”
He’s tall and blond and wearing a suit and tie, has a little notebook in his hand flipped open, and is staring like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.
“Is that okay with you?”
I don’t answer again because I don’t know the law. I don’t know if I have to answer but I do know I don’t want to. He stares, and I sigh.
“You’re employed by Kostya Zinon?”
I nod. Admitting I’m employed doesn’t implicate anyone in anything.
“And you live in his house?”
I nod again. Still nothing that risks Kostya’s freedom.
“So you would know if this man has ever been to see Mr. Zinon?” From the super-secret notebook where he hasn’t written anything I can see on the blank page, he hands me a photo of Jack Whelan. I stare for a minute and concentrate on keeping my face blank until he takes the photo back. “We found his body in Griffith Park.”
There’s a moment of silence before Yelisey walks into the room and the agent sighs. Probably because he knows that any chance he had of getting me to talk just vanished. He looks down and flips his notebook shut. “Mr. Rusnak.”
“Agent Quinn.” Yelisey nods and stares at me. “I think Miss Lowe probably needs her rest, wouldn’t you say?” There’s a dangerous undertone to his voice.
Quinn gives a long, pained sigh. He nods once then turns without another word and walks out of the room.
I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed. I’ve watched enough cop shows to know he’s supposed to have something snarky to say before he just gives up and walks out.
Yelisey moves closer with a mysterious smile on his face.
“What are you scheming, Yelisey?” I say warily.
He just smiles broader. “I brought you something.” He opens the door.
A blonde blur streaks through. Tiana jumps into my arms with a whoompf and buries her head in my shoulder, squealing like she just won a pony at the fair.
I hold her as tight as I can. She needs it, and I need it, too. She’s confused and she’s too young to have lost so much. I don’t care what Kostya says—if he didn’t mean it when he said he loves me—I’m not letting her go again. I won’t let him push me away from her.
I glance at Yelisey and smile. “Thank you.” She is wrapped around me like a sweater and I can’t believe how much I’ve missed her. Yelisey is watching the door like he’s waiting for someone to bust through and arrest us both. I guess the FBI hanging around the hospital, flashing pictures of the guy he helped take down probably has him on edge. I get it. But it’s making me nervous.
“Yelisey … you should come back in here and relax. Stop worrying.” I keep my voice calm because I don’t want to frighten Tiana.
“It is my job to worry,” he says. He turns to me slowly, the mischievous grin gone now, replaced with something more somber. “What did you say to the agent?”
“I didn’t say anything. Honest to God, not a word.”
He nods, but if his eyes could talk, they would say he doesn’t believe me. I don’t take it personally because Yelisey isn’t the kind of guy who trusts anyone. It’s what makes him good at whatever he does for Kostya.
“What did he want?”
“He asked about Jack Whelan.”
“Hmm.” Yelisey rubs his chin thoughtfully then opens the door and beckons a huge man in who I don’t recognize, but who Tiana grins at, apparently considering a friend. “Tiana, go color with Vlad, eh?”
In spite of clearly liking the guy, Tiana pulls a face and looks at me. “Listen to him,” I tell her, bopping her playfully on the nose. “Just for a minute. Then I want you to tell me all about your day.”
She scowls, but does as she’s told, walking out with Vlad.
When Yelisey is satisfied that she’s not listening, he continues. “They found Whelan’s body in the park. Shot through with holes. Now, if they figure out where the actual crime scene is, they’re going to find blood there. Kostya’s blood. Maybe even your blood. And that isn’t going to look good, considering they’re already asking questions.”
He’s speaking in that same tone I use when I’m trying to keep something from my mother. Soft. Placating. It’s a liar’s tone. And it pains me that I’ve become
