Page 85 of Arranged Control

“Wish I had more for you,” Finn says, shaking his head miserably. “We’re scouring the city, but New York’s a big place. Molchanie could be hiding anywhere.”

“Anyone mention working with her? Anyone take a contract out?”

“Not that I’ve heard, but you know how it is. You hire an expensive assassin, you don’t actually want to talk about it.”

He’s got a good point. “Keep pushing. There’s gotta be something we can do.”

Finn agrees and finishes off his drink. We’re sitting in Alina’s apartment near the windows. He glances over at the view and pauses, smiling to himself. “You seem like you’re in a better mood. And I’m guessing since you wanted to meet here—” He raises his eyebrows.

I stare hard at him. “You nearly hit her with your car.”

His expression falls. “It was an accident. She walked out into traffic. Honestly, she’s lucky it was me. Anyone else would’ve run her down.”

“Stop getting involved in my marriage.”

“Stop acting like I’m not being extremely helpful.”

“Finn—”

“Look, you’ve been such a difficult prick these last few days. It’s not like you at all. I just want the old, happy Seamus back.”

“And I want Molchanie’s head severed from her body.”

“Let’s all get what we want.”

“Here’s hoping.”

“Honestly, I was just trying to help. I was checking up on her, and I know you care even when you pretend like you don’t.”

“Thanks for explaining my own feelings.”

“Anytime. It’s what I’m here for.” He finishes his drink and heads to the door. “I’ve got a ton of guys out asking questions. If there’s anything to be found about Molchanie, we’ll find it.”

“I appreciate how hard you’re working on this, even if you are being annoying.”

He nods and leaves. I sit alone in the apartment, glaring at the window, trying to work this puzzle out in my head. But every time I think back on that conversation I had with Molchanie, it’s clear that I’m missing a key piece of information.

Like why she cares about Alina.

If we can figure that out, we might be able to find a way to cut a deal with the killer.

And if not? Maybe we can use it against her.

But that’s the central mystery. Who would care about Alina enough to murder strangers? And why does it seem like Molchanie specifically wants me to stay away?

Nothing’s connecting in my head. I’m distracted for a while, trying to make sense of what’s happening, but I’ve never been a thinker. There’s a reason I was assigned to the streets.

I’m a man of action.

I like to do. I don’t like to wonder. Now it feels like everything’s mixed up and I don’t know how to straighten it out again.

I’m not paying attention when the door opens and my wife comes home. I look over at the sound of her bag hitting the table and find her giving me a smarmy little smile.

“What have you been up to all day?” She comes over and plops down on the couch right next to me. Our legs touch, and I like that. She’s comfortable with me now. It’s amazing how fast things changed.

“Working like always.”

“Looks like you’ve been working hard.” She leans back, grinning.