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EPILOGUE - EMMY
“So, Dasha was right about Maxim Agapov.”
Fia took a sip of the cocktail Bradley had made for her and trailed a hand in the pool.Two years ago, she’d never have sat this close to the water, but with a little help from a good man, she’d finally got over her aquaphobia.
“Dasha’s right about a lot of things,” I said.
Annoyingly right.
While the rest of us had been rolling around in trifle, crashing cars, swimming, and shooting people, Fia had been beavering away in the background, tying up loose ends, namely Agapov and Ruslan Smirnov.In Agapov’s case, the tying-up part had been literal—once he’d exceeded his usefulness, she’d left him handcuffed to a bed in the Oceanview Inn.
He hadn’t told her much, but he did let slip that he’d procured several dozen tickets to the USA versus Russia game on March ninth.Did Fia want to join him?They had a box with full hospitality, and everyone from the office was going.Miroslava Novikova wasn’t talking, but it was a fair bet the soccer match had been the target.Now it would go ahead in the spirit in which it had been intended—one of friendly rivalry.
In contrast to Maxim Agapov, Ruslan Smirnov was a sweetheart.
“Ruslan really did win the lottery,” Fia said.“And he tried giving up work, but after a month, he got bored and began missing his colleagues.I think he has a crush on the receptionist.”
“So he basically goes to work for fun?”
“Yup.He likes chatting with new people every day, and he likes the way the girl in the café opposite the office makes his sandwiches each lunchtime, and he likes feeling as if he’s making a difference.But he was upset about Marat Timonenko.They were friends, he said, even though Timonenko had changed in recent months.He wasn’t the same after Novikova joined the team.”
“He thinks she was the instigator?That she turned Timonenko?”
Fia nodded as she took another sip of her drink.“Yup.Until she showed up, he was politically neutral, maybe edging toward Pushkin’s views because Pushkin and his papa were friends.But after Timonenko hooked up with Novikova, he switched his allegiance to Stepanov.”
“Did Ruslan know why?”
“He said Novikova was a temptress.”Fia laughed.“Ruslan’s a nice old guy, but he does love to gossip.”
“What story did you tell him?”
“He thinks I’m a journalist writing a piece on the evolving nature of the US-Russia relationship.”
“And he was happy to talk?”
“Once he got started, I couldn’t stop him.He’s lonely, I think.After we’d discussed his colleagues, I showed him how to set up an online dating profile and helped him to take a bunch of good pictures.Hopefully someday, he’ll find a girlfriend.”
“The Ferrari’ll help with that.”
“He doesn’t drive it much.The seats give him a backache, and he worries about parking such an expensive car on the street.Each to their own, huh?”
I nodded.“Yeah, each to their own.”
Ottie Marquette gripped the arms of her wheelchair as Ana and I carried her down the steps of the Learjet.Hallie followed with Ottie’s bag, and there was a strange sense of déjà vu as we walked across the tarmac at Portland International.The last time we’d made this journey, five long, long weeks ago, I hadn’t realised I was about to get my nose broken yet again.
Bradley ran down the stairs behind us.“Hey, you forgot your hat.”
No, I didn’t forget it.I’d left it behind quite intentionally on account of it being pink.Paulo had knitted it for me—he and Bradley had become pen pals or phone friends or something, so he’d be thrilled when we popped in for a “surprise” visit later today.
“Can you make yourself useful and supervise the luggage?”
“Yes, but you still have to wear the hat.”
We’d see about that.
Ottie was making steady progress, and although she was still frail, the doctors were hopeful she wouldn’t have any long-term cognitive impairment.Now that she’d been discharged from the specialist facility James’s chief of staff had stashed her in, she’d decided to spend a week or two in Baldwin’s Shore to continue her recovery.A physiotherapist would travel from Coos Bay to help, and the medical staff at the hospital were on hand if needed.At first, Ottie had been apprehensive about coming back to Oregon, but once we’d assured her the town was safe from murderous treason weasels, she’d wanted to visit Leona and pick up her dog.The staff at the Peninsula had been taking care of Gidget while Ottie was otherwise indisposed.
Leona might have been an old friend, but she was a good friend, Ottie said.The best.And the feeling had been mutual.When Ottie graduated high school two years early, that was exactly what Leona had written in her yearbook.I’ll miss you, bestie, but someone has to go show the world how it’s done.And how did we know that?Because Slug’s team had found the yearbook in the terracotta house along with various other items stolen from Ottie’s home.