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Andy glances at Josh who gives him a nod. “Yeah. We were roommates when he was here.”
Andy is my height, but he looks at least fifteen years older than me. His hair is cropped short, but I can see the silver peeking through the blond tresses.
“Roommates?” Relief floods me. He may have information. “Can we talk a minute? I’m his sister. Do you know where he went after he left here?”
Josh busies himself with papers while Andy and I talk. Roommates don’t have to adhere to any privacy policies.
“Yeah, he got a full-time job as a dishwasher. Didn’t make a lot, but enough to get his own place over the restaurant.”
“He has a job?” My hope grows.
“That’s what he said.” He frowns. “I’m guessing since you’re here you don’t know where he is now?”
I tuck the flyer back into my pocket but keep my hand over it. “No. I haven’t been able to get in touch with him. Can you tell me what restaurant he’s working for? Where his apartment is?”
Andy’s face crumbles. “Nah. He never said. He came by here a few times after, to you know, shoot the shit. But that stopped. I figured he’d found something better or he was just trying to forget this place.”
“He was sober though?” I ask, not realizing until I ask it how much I want the answer to be yes. If he hates me and never wants to see me again, that’s fine. So long as he’s sober and safe.
“He was.” Andy nods firmly. “And he had some friends on the outside that wanted to keep it that way. They’re the ones that helped him get the job.”
“What friends?” Could the Romanovs have gotten their hands on him after he’d left rehab against advice? Maybe they were pissed he hadn’t gone through the program. Or they were wrapping up loose ends with my brother.
“I don’t remember.” Andy shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” He frowns, almost like he just let me down.
“It’s all right.” I smile.
“I better get my shit done. When you find him, tell him I said hi, yeah?”
“Of course,” I promise. Andy nods then head back toward the back of the house.
“I’m sorry to have caused any trouble,” I say to Josh.
“You haven’t.” He comes out of the small office and steps toward me, like he’s herding me toward the front door.
“Is there any chance those friends signed in? There’d have to be a visitor’s roster or something, right?” I ask, peering over the counter at his desk.
“I don’t think so.” He has the door open for me. “Even if they did, I can’t show it to you.”
I sigh. “I just need to find him. He’s my brother.” How can this man hoard this information from me? I wish I had my airsoft gun with me. I bet he’d change his mind then.
“Sorry. I can’t. Good luck though.” He smiles, but it lacks sincerity.
“Yeah. Thanks,” I mutter, then step outside. The door shuts behind me as soon as both feet hit the porch.
I stare at the closed door for a moment more before turning to head back to the bus stop. At the foot of the stairs stands Maxim. An angry Maxim. A glaring, hands fisted at his sides, eyes dark and fixated on me—Maxim.
Mandy
“Hi.”I give a little wave from the top of the stairs. Behind him, a black SUV idles at the curb.
“Hi?” he asks with a tilt of his head. “That’s what you have to say?”
“Well, I’d ask how you found me, but I’m sure you have some sort of tracker on me.” I step down the stairs slowly. “I mean, how else would you find me in a city this size?”
I stop when I’m one step above him; it’s the closest I’ve come to being able to be on his level.
“You said you were busy.”
