I breathe out the nerves twisting my stomach before shrugging. “I don’t know. Justine is adamant Nikolai is alive. She says she can sense his presence.”
We’ve been working on pinpointing Nikolai’s location for the past couple of hours. Justine spoke with Ryan Carter, an old friend and detective at Ravenshoe PD. His story corroborated what Rocco told me during my trek to my room. Neither the FBI, CIA, nor any of the men in Nikolai’s crew know where he is. It’s as if he just vanished.
I arch a brow when Agent Machini asks, “Do you think that’s hope talking or something much deeper?”
“If you’re asking if my sister is psychic, I’d reply with a firm no, but the Walshs have good instincts. If she says she can feel Nikolai’s presence, who am I to argue with her?” After dumping my backside onto the bed, I cradle my throbbing head in my hands. I’m so fucking tired, but I can’t rest just yet. “I would have given anything to sense Demi four years ago.”
When Agent Machini joins me on the bed, her thigh brushes mine. “You stopped feeling her?”
I jerk up my chin, untrusting of my voice not to crack if I were to talk.
My wordless response doesn’t give Agent Machini the hint. She probes me like true FBI agents should. “When was that?”
I take a moment to contemplate before muttering, “The day after the accident.” I stop, breathe out sharply, then continue. “I gathered the delay stemmed around Max.”
My throat dries when I remember animal control dragging Max out of the emergency room at Ravenshoe Private Hospital. He was as inconsolable that day as I was. It took three animal control officers and a heavy sedative to get him into the back of the transport van and over a dozen security guards to hold me back when my begs for them not to euthanize him fell on deaf ears.
“He was a good dog. He was just misunderstood.” Realizing I’m once again focusing on my past instead of my future, I drag my hand under my nose to ensure nothing gross is spilling before standing to my feet. “Anyway. I better get back to it.”
My steps freeze partway to the door when Agent Machini calls my name. “Maddox.” She waits for me to spin around before saying, “The wounds of our past are often the most beautiful part of us.” She nudges her head to a book with a bright yellow cover on the coffee table her half-eaten sandwich is sitting on. It’s a book calledTriggersby David Richo. “I can lend it to you once I’m done, if you’d like? It will help you understand why your body responds before your mind has the chance to make sense of a situation.”
I shake my head, grateful for her offer, but certain it isn’t necessary. “I’m a Walsh. I think with my heart, leap in feet first with my eyes tightly closed, then pray like fuck my head will get me out of whatever situation my heart yearned. My life isn’t close to what I had hoped it would be, but changing who I am won’t fix anything. I’ll still be here, and they’ll still be up there, without me.”
Needing to leave before she sees the wetness pricking in my eyes, I pivot on my heels and rocket out the door. Agent Machini calls my name again, but this time, I don’t stop. I continue walking down the narrow hallways, mindful she means well, but I am over people believing they understand what I’m going through.
Right here, right now, there’s only one person who has the slightest inkling of the pain I’ve experienced the past four years, but there’s still hope for her. Nikolai could still be found alive. I can only hope it occurs before Justine collapses from exhaustion. Her speech is slurred, her skin is so blistered, her scars aren’t visible, and she’s barely touched the sandwich I delivered to her before Agent Machini. She’s running herself to the ground, and I’m confident that would piss Nikolai off even more than the knowledge half of his crew is working against her.
“J, I really think you should lay down for an hour or two.”
She continues scanning over a dozen reports a partner at her firm couriered here hours ago while briefly shaking her head.
“Will you at least see a doctor?” I lean closer to her. “It isn’t just about you anymore, J. Your baby needs you too.”
I can tell I’m getting through to her, but she’s as stubborn as a mule. It’s a Walsh trait. “Trey has arranged for a doctor, but you don’t need to worry about that right now, Maddox. I need you to focus on the documents Carmichael supplied us. If Nikolai is being held captive, he’s at one of those locations. Find which one it is.”
After taking a seat behind a massive set of topographic maps, I push over the bologna and cheese sandwich in a silent hint she should eat.
She doesn’t get my insinuation, but that could be more from Trey slamming his cell phone onto Nikolai’s desk with annoyance rather than ignorance. “What did she say?” Justine asks Trey, clueing me into the fact he was speaking with a female.
I don’t like being out of the loop, but Agent Machini had been locked in our room for hours by herself. Even with her jabbering in my ear the past three hours, I’m confident she was getting restless enough to call in backup. She should count her lucky stars that the Bureau went along with her story on how Agent Moses died. If they hadn’t, and she was convicted for tampering with a crime scene, she would have joined me at Wallens Ridge.
Standard cops don’t last there a week, so I doubt she would have made it a day. Criminals have a way of sniffing out law enforcement. Why do you think Nero placed two goons outside our room the instant we arrived? He smells a rat. He just has no clue not all the stench is coming from Agent Machini.
After scrubbing a hand across his bushy beard, Trey answers Justine’s question. “Not much. She hasn’t seen Maxsim in over a year. She rambled some shit about his wife leaving him when he impregnated his whore. I tuned out not long after that.”
My lips twist when another two pieces of the puzzle slot into place, although I’m skeptical Maxsim knocked up one of his whores. India would never allow such travesty. She would have forced her to have an abortion before she even knew she was pregnant, but before I can announce that to Justine, she reminds me why our father always warned us never to piss off a pregnant woman. “Get Carmichael back on the phone. If Maxsim isn’t operating on behalf of his family, perhaps he is working with someone else.”
“Carmichael won’t talk to—” Justine ends Trey’s ramble by holding her hand out palm side up. Once she has his cell phone in her hand, Trey joins me in sorting through sales documentation for land Alexei, Maxsim’s father, purchased before his death. “Have you ever seen her like this?”
When he nudges his head to Justine, I twist my lips. “Determined or…”
“Out for fucking blood,” he fills in, laughing.
His chuckle doesn’t last long. Not only is he quick to recall why our shoulders are butted together, but Justine also whispers a man’s name that gains her the attention of the room. “If Vladimir were alive, do you think Maxsim would be desperate enough to work with him?”
Whatever Carmichael is replying has her desperate to swallow, but she continues with their conversation, aware it’s more than Nikolai’s life on the line right now. His reputation is also being tested. “But it’s not entirely unthinkable. Right?”
Justine looks relieved.
