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“What makes you say that?”
By Nico’s own account, he barely knew Kaylin. People could change a lot as they grew older. He paused for a long moment before he spoke, considering his answer, one finger tapping on the arm of the chair. When he noticed me glance at his hand, he stilled.
“When Kaylin was seven, a guard on my father’s security team kicked one of the cats that ran about the place and broke its leg. I came home to find Kaylin sobbing in the living room with the thing bundled on her lap, and she’d made it a splint out of three colouring pencils and some hair ties. That’s the type of person she was. Sweet and sensitive. Unless Kaylin was physically unable to call for help, she’d never have left an injured man lying at the side of the road.”
“People change.”
“Not Kaylin. At least, not when I saw her in New York. She didn’t get ten steps from the restaurant before she emptied all the cash that was left in her wallet into a homeless man’s cup.”
Interesting. And I tended to agree—if she’d had a shred of decency left, she would have stopped at a gas station and made an anonymous call before she vanished. Which made my heart sink. If Kaylin hadn’t been able to call for help, we might be looking for a body instead of the kind, vibrant woman Nico had described.
“What happened to the cat?” I asked, rather than putting my fears into words.
“I took it to the veterinarian, and he put a plate in its leg.”
“And what happened to the guard?”
Nico shrugged and gave a tiny, sly smile.
Okay, maybe Emmy had been right about Nicolai Lvovich Belinsky. He definitely paid lip service to the law.
But was he right about Kaylin?
I glanced at the ornate gold clock on the wall—it was nearly eight o’clock. How much longer did Emmy need to do her thing? B&E was child’s play for her, especially when the Bad Samaritan had provided a key, the alarm code, and access to the security system.
“I understand another private investigator already looked into the case?”
Nico nodded. “When it became apparent that the cops weren’t going to find Kaylin, I hired a guy from Manassas. Figured local knowledge would be an advantage, but he hit dead end after dead end.”
“Can I get access to his reports?”
“I have the entire file for you. Would you prefer a printed copy or digital?”
“Email works best.”
“You’ll have it by the morning.”
“Do you think he’d speak with me?”
“Sadly not. He had a stroke two months ago, and his wife said he won’t be working any time soon. Did Emerson explain our arrangement to you?”
“That Blackwood would perform a desktop review of the case at no charge and follow up on any missed leads we find?”
“Yes, that’s what we agreed. But if you spot any new avenues of investigation, I just want to make it clear that the budget isn’t an issue. If you find a thread, tug on it, and I’ll pay whatever’s necessary.”
“I understand.”
“Good. And now…” He checked his watch. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”
“Uh…”
I still hadn’t heard from Emmy. She’d message me as soon as she was done, and Blackwood’s comms app would tap my wrist via my smartwatch with any updates. But Nico misunderstood my hesitation.
“If you’re concerned about my reputation, Emerson assured me that she’d personally remove my testicles with a rusty melon baller if I was anything but gentlemanly toward you.”
“A…rusty melon baller?”
“She was very specific on that, and I suspect she’s the type of woman who’d follow through.”
