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“How do you know?”
He shrugs, a small smile curling up his lips. “I tapped into Daniella’s phone and all the phones she’s had contact with and it just spread from there.
“The Russians aren’t using burners? I find that hard to believe.”
“Crazily enough, most of them are on a family plan.”
“Fucking idiots.”
“I agree, but not everyone can have our latest tech. Anyway, they aren’t only looking for your ex-wife, they’re also looking for a fuckton of diamonds.”
“What?”
“Diamonds, blood diamonds to be more specific. From the information I have, Nikolay went to confront her about them being missing and shit went down in her apartment. There’s no record of them being recovered by the police or on Nikolay when he got to the hospital.”
“Was it only his blood in the condo?”
“Too early to tell. Forensics aren’t back yet.”
“I can get Flynn to light a couple fires to make it happen quicker.”
“Last night I would’ve argued that her father’s recent run of bad luck was the reason all of this shit is going down, but Daniella has been all over the place with Petrovich.”
“I want a list of every place they’ve visited since they met.”
I stand from the chair.
“Already on it.”
“I need you to find her, Wren.”
When he looks up at me, he doesn’t crack a joke like he normally would.
“I will,” he vows, and when I walk out of his office, I know the man won’t sleep until he’s scoured the world to locate her.
Even the damn bird must sense the seriousness of the situation because he doesn’t say a word as I walk out.
“Here.” Brooks shoves a travel mug of coffee into my hand the second I step inside the break area.
“Thanks, man.” I take a sip and wince at the tar-like beverage, but I don’t bitch. I’m going to need every damn milligram of caffeine I can get today.
“Where are you headed?” Flynn asks, his British accent making his voice sound deeper this early in the morning.
“Altieri, Inc. When did you get here?”
“I’ve been here since I finished up at the condos last night. I was in the back when you arrived.”
His hair is still wet from a recent shower, and I’m envious of him.
“What did you find?” I wave at the other guys as I walk out of the office and head to the elevator.
“Not much more than the police did. Wren found some security footage of the Russian boyfriend showing up, but somehow Daniella made it out of the building without being spotted. He couldn’t find her leaving on the cameras.”
In the parking garage, Flynn climbs into the passenger seat of my truck without even asking if he can tag along. I don’t argue because I know he won’t get out even if I threaten him. I may possibly be losing control of my own men, but that’s an issue to deal with at another time.
“Less than an hour after the police left the scene, he tracked two big guys to the floor, but could only track them as far as the elevator. There aren’t any cameras in the hallway on that floor.”
“With what they’re paying to live there, they should each have armed guards.”
“No doubt,” Flynn agrees, resting his arm in the windowsill. “I don’t know if you went to Daniella’s—”
“Dani,” I interrupt. She hated her full name, and for some reason I feel like I need to respect that right now since I have no fucking clue what’s happened to her.
“Dani’s apartment was trashed worse than Annalise’s.”
For some reason it doesn’t bother me as much when my closest friend uses Anna’s full name. It’s like I’m also protective of her and his using the shortened version gets him too close. I’ll work my mind through that bullshit later.
“Looking for the diamonds,” I muse.
“Probably.”
This is what I love about my team. They’re so efficient and up to date on everything, I don’t have to waste my time retelling information.
“How was the Four Seasons?”
And then there are times when they’re too damn efficient.
“Overpriced and pretentious.”
He chuckles.
“Brooks says she’s a real looker.”
I huff a laugh. “Brooks thinks everyone is good-looking.”
“True. The man has an uncanny ability to find the positive in everyone.” I keep my eyes trained on the road. Flynn does too, but I don’t even for a second think he’s giving up on the topic of conversation. “Are you agreeing or not?”
“About Brooks? I just did.”
“About Annalise Grimaldi,” he corrects, his tone making it clear I’m not fooling him.
“She’s my ex’s best friend.”
“Still not an answer.”
“What does it matter?”
“A lot now that you’re refusing to answer the question. You’re the one making it a bigger issue, not me.”
He smacks my hand when I reach to turn on the radio. “I’ll fucking shoot you.”
“Don’t get all fucking growly with me. I watched the damn video. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
