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Dimitry covers my hand with his own. “It was her idea.” His unsettling smile widens.

Rodrigo’s men still have their guns up, but their tension is palpable. Dimitry, on the other hand, seems more relaxed by the minute. And that smile is downright unnerving.

Once, at a party months ago, some of Dimitry’s crew started reminiscing about an attack they pulled off during the war when Roman and Dimitry gained control of the Stevanovsky clan.“And there was Dimitry,”Bryce had said, waving his beer around,“giving these fuckers his deranged madman grin, like he always does. They were so terrified they just dropped their guns and ran...”

I always thought the men exaggerated when they told those stories.

Until now.

Rodrigo eyes Dimitry warily. Then he nods at his men. They put their guns away. I don’t miss the beads of sweat on their foreheads.

“Smart.” Dimitry hands me the control. “Be careful not to hit that red button, Skip,” he says lightly. “That one makes things goboom.” He pours more tea and sits back in his chair. “We’re going to start with how we make sure our target believes your story. Leon?” He gestures to the older man, who nods.

“There’s a yacht moored just off the Myanmar coast,” Leon says, “that belongs to a business acquaintance of mine. He’s kindly offered to let us use it.” He nods at Rodrigo. “You will say that the yacht is where you and Abby stayed when youdisappearedthis week. We will fly you out to the yacht. Then you will contact SK and request to be helicoptered back to the compound, so your story stands up to any investigation.”

Rodrigo looks between us, frowning. Then he turns to me.

“We had a deal.” He scowls. “Which is the only reason I agreed to come here in the first place. There’s no need for all of this. I came for a name and a photograph. I will do the killing myself—”

“You won’t get close enough to even fucking try.” Dimitry cuts him off calmly. “Many have tried before you. None have succeeded. And if Abby doesn’t return to that compound ASAP, we will all lose the best chance we have of getting this guy into place to take him down.”

Rodrigo looks between Leon and Dimitry. “Even if he agrees to hold this auction at the compound, why are you so sure he’ll attend in person?”

“He will.” Leon sounds very definite. “The missing imperial Fabergé eggs are the unicorns of rare art. Of the fifty that were made, only a few are still missing. The man we’re looking for is rumored to have acquired one of the other missing Fabergé eggs. A decade ago he bid for a collection of the lesser eggs, but lost to a Russian oligarch, Viktor, who will also receive an invitation to this auction. Our friend will agree to hold the auction at SK not only because he plans to outbid Viktor, but because if by some chance he fails to do so, he will simply acquire the egg by force. He will likely be careful to guard his identity, but the rest of the attendees will all be by invitation, which will narrow it down. We will also specify that all bidders are required to attend in person rather than by phone or proxy, not an unusual stipulation given the unique nature of the item.”

“If you don’t even know who this man is,” Rodrigo says, frowning, “how do you know what he bid on in the past?”

Leon’s mouth lifts slightly at the edge, though his eyesremain hard. “I can list the sale date, price, and buyer of every piece of the Russian imperial treasure that has come to market in the last hundred years, Señor Cardeñas. Those who buy them do not hide in the shadows. They make public press statements about preserving Russian heritage. They loan to museums and then have entire wings in those museums named in their honor. Or they build special cases in their mansions and invite wealthy friends to admire their taste.

“The man we are looking for is conspicuous not because of the many pieces he has acquired, but by the fact that nobody knows his name.”

31

Dimitry

It’s all moving too fast.

I watch Rodrigo’s sedan move back down the driveway, my entire body still wired from the encounter.

Which is more than I can say for the patio, which was never wired at all.

I throw the gaming control onto the couch and grin at Abby. “Well, that worked.”

She exhales sharply. “For a moment there I genuinely thought you’d actually wired the place and lied to keep me calm.”

She’s still pale under her scattering of bruises, and she clenches her fists in an effort to conceal her shaking hands.

I take them into my own. “You don’t have to do this, Abby. In fact, I really fucking wish you’d agree not to.”

“No.” She shakes her head determinedly. “I’m the only one who can identify him, Dimitry. You did a good job of avoiding that subject with Rodrigo, by the way.” She gives me a mischievous look that lightens my heart. “I never thought he’d leave without demanding to see the photograph. I’m startingto think I should worry about just how well you’re able to lie and deflect.”

“Never to you, Skip.” I gather her close, kissing the top of her head. “Never, ever to you.”

We stand like that for a long time, her arms wrapped around me, her head nestled against my chest, and I wonder why the fuck I’m even thinking about agreeing to this.

“It’s going to be okay, Dimitry,” she says eventually, her voice slightly muffled by my body. “It’s a week, no more. And I’ve shown you how to take the scam bait. Lucky will look out for your message, make sure it’s assigned to me, so we’ll be able to communicate.”

“Ifyou’re put back in touch with Lucky. Andifshe sees the message before anyone else.” I shake my head against her hair. Moreifsandprobablys.