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“Do you know St. Laszlo’s Church?”
“Yeah, but it’s on the other side of the city. The Alexander Nevsky Cathedral is nicer and a lot closer.”
“I’m not going there for mass. I know someone at St. Laszlo’s who can help us.”
Natalie led me through an alley and then over a few blocks, where we caught a bus. We transferred after a few minutes. The second bus seemed to stop every two blocks.
Natalie said, “I could walk faster than this.”
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you at St. Laszlo’s.” I was done with whining. As long as we were moving and on the bus, we were relatively safe. I would gladly ride it all night long.
About forty minutes later, I recognized the neighborhood and soon saw the lighted cupolas of the Orthodox church. I hoped we weren’t too late to catch Father Marty at the office.
When I raced into the building, Natalie followed me through the door. Almost immediately, we ran into Father Marty.
He smiled and clapped his hands. “You found her. Good for you.” He looked at Natalie and said, “I prayed for you, my dear.”
She mumbled her thanks, and I gave him a quick rundown of what had happened. I left out some of the bloodier details, but he now knew the facts. I ended by asking if he had heard about the shoot-out near Tartu Maantee.
Father Marty said, “No, I haven’t heard anything about a shoot-out in Tallinn.”
“The FBI agent who was chasing me was injured trying to save us.”
“Oh, dear. And you don’t know how Mr. Fiore is doing?”
“No, Father, I don’t. As soon as I make sure Natalie’s safe, I want to check on him. He saved my”—I paused for a moment, then came up with—“life.”
“Mr. Fiore was quite angry at me after I helped you escape. I told him I followed my heart.”
“And what’d he say to that?”
“He had another suggestion on showing my love for myself.” The priest smiled.
I hid my own smile as I imagined the exchange. I said, “I’m sorry, Father.”
“No. One needs a diverse experience. It’s sometimes nice to hear new phrases. And in his defense, he did appear to be a dedicated law enforcement officer.”
“He absolutely is. And I hope he’s safe.”
Father Marty said, “I can have a car here in an hour. A man I know can drive you down
to Riga, in Latvia. I think that’s the safest course of action. It will be easy to arrange a flight back to the US from Riga.”
Natalie said, “Can I send a quick email to my mom? I left my phone back at Henry’s building.”
“Of course, my dear. Use my office. There are some drinks in the little refrigerator if you need them.”
I plopped down in an overstuffed chair. Suddenly the events of the last few hours hit me in a wave. I dozed off before I even realized how comfortable I was.
CHAPTER 81
CHRISTOPH WAS BEHIND the wheel of the Volkswagen Passat. He hated this car. It didn’t fit his image. Ollie had tried his best to talk his partner out of driving. With blood still leaking out of Christoph’s nose and his face turning a dark purple, Ollie had thought it would be best if he drove. The debate had lasted almost a minute, until Ollie had relented.
Now, as Christoph’s vision blurred, he wasn’t about to say anything to his partner. He blinked harder to get a better view of the streets of Tallinn. A woman, walking hand in hand with a little girl on the edge of the street, had to spring out of the way as Christoph swerved. Ollie turned quickly to see the woman on the curb, holding the girl and cursing them.
Christoph thought the vision issues might have more to do with his feelings than a physical injury. He was furious. And his fury was focused on two people. All he could think about was sticking his knife into Bennett’s throat. He imagined the blade when it first broke skin and he smiled. He wanted to do it just like he had done it to his cousin all those years ago. He never would admit to anyone how satisfying it had been. She had been laughing and threatening to expose him, and he had put an end to it with a simple, single thrust of his pocketknife.
He pictured Bennett in the same situation, grasping his neck as blood pumped out of severed arteries and veins. This time Christoph wouldn’t panic. Instead, he’d enjoy it.
