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14
EMMY
Asiago lay on the outskirts of downtown Eugene, and the name made me chuckle.When in Rome or Milan, had I stumbled across a restaurant named Velveeta?No, not once, but then again, America wasn’t exactly renowned for its cheesemaking.
On the plus side, Asiago did have a private dining room at the back, and Bradley had booked it for the entire evening.And the place was blessed with a decent wine list.Ana had volunteered to be designated driver, so I planned to indulge in a glass or two, but I’d stay sober enough to stop Bradley from singing karaoke at one o’clock in the morning, as he was liable to do if nobody kept him in check.
Well, it had certainly been an interesting day.Pills had taken the edge off the pain radiating from my nose, and now I took a moment to reflect.I quite possibly had another half-sibling.Vik.Viktor… Hell, I didn’t even know his last name.Although what did it matter?I didn’t plan to look for him, not if he was a knock-off of my asshole of a father.Later, when we were alone, I’d grill Ana on what she remembered, but only out of curiosity.He must be older than us, I knew that much, but she’d never even mentioned his name before.Or Darya’s.
Darya Volkova.I wasn’t sure if I liked her, but I didn’t hate her, and I sure as hell respected her.She’d been a first-tier assassin, and she’d stayed at the top of the game for over a decade.How many high-value targets had she taken out during that time?Before she retired?Retired.Fuck, she was wasted in Baldwin’s Shore.Today, I’d felt the raw power in her, and she still had the right moves.
A waiter appeared and presented us with menus, poured water, and laid out baskets of breadsticks.I chewed on one absent-mindedly as I studied the wine list.Tonight, I’d definitely earned a drink, painkillers be damned.
My phone buzzed with a message.
Leona: Ottie’s still asleep.The nurse says I have to leave now, but I’ll come back in the morning.
I’d given Leona my number so she could keep us updated, plus I’d offered financial and logistical support if she needed it, although Nico seemed to have that covered.He’d told her to take the next week off on full pay, and if Ottie needed a specialist consult, he would fund it.
Me: She’s in good hands.Make sure you get some rest.
Another buzz, and I expected to see a reply from Leona, but the screen was still dark.Someone had messaged my other phone.The one few people had the number of.
Mack: Call me ASAP.Secure line.
Mack was one of my long-standing friends—yes, the one who’d married my posh ex, although I harboured no bitterness.He wasn’t a bad guy, just a terrible guy for me, and I wished them all the happiness in the world.Mack also happened to be Blackwood’s cyber guru, and if she wanted me to call her on a secure line, there was a problem.
I gave the wine list one last, longing glance and cursed under my breath.
“What happened?”Ana asked.
“No clue yet.Bradley, do you have an RF detector in your purse?”
Of course he did.Why had I even bothered to ask?He wasn’t a big fan of guns, but he loved gadgets, although he had a bad habit of buying bugs from the internet and installing them around my home because he liked to knoweverything.
“You want me to sweep the room?”he asked.
“Go for it, ace.”
The sweep came up clean, as expected, but it always paid to check.I dialled Mack.She was working on several projects at the moment, plus I’d asked her to do a little research on Ottie earlier.Ottilie Melissa Marquette, born in Sanford, Maine, according to Leona.She’d also given me Ottie’s date of birth and the names of her parents in the hope that we could track them down.She didn’t have their numbers, and Ottie’s phone was missing.They needed to know what had happened to their daughter.
“Hey.”
“Can you talk?”Mack asked.
“The room’s clean, but if the waiter comes back, I’ll go silent.What’s up?”
“Honestly?I don’t know, butsomethingis.I ran a few searches on your girl—”
“Ottie?”
“Yup.Just little nibbles around the edges, and somebody slammed the door so hard my ears are still ringing.Emmy,who is she?”
“You have as much information on her as I do.Any idea who slammed the door?”
“No, but they’re connected.I routed my traffic through a twenty-four-hour internet café in St.Petersburg, and, well,look…”
The phone pinged, and I peered at the picture Mack had sent.A high-res satellite photo, zoomed in on a dimly lit city street.Snow on the ground reflected the little light there was and allowed me to see the cops in black helmets surrounding the building.Two of them were dragging a guy out the door, heading for one of the cars slewed across the road.