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“Can I help you?” the woman said as she got out of the SUV, the back opening up to reveal paper grocery bags.
Nickolay grinned, but the woman looked wary as he headed her way. She was more cautious than her daughter.
“Do you own a red Ford Fusion?” Vlad asked.
She frowned, her eyes darting back and forth between them. “Who are you?”
“Just answer the question,” Vlad snapped.
Nickolay gave him a dark look. His brother was a grumpy bastard sometimes, especially since he became a widower four years ago, but this was a time to use a little finesse.
“Are you the ones that stole it?” she asked, backing away until her back hit her SUV. Fear coated her features.
“What?” Nickolay asked, placing a hand on Vlad’s arm to stop him from advancing on the woman. “The car was stolen?”
She nodded. “Three days ago.”
“It wasn’t us.”
She narrowed her eyes at them, studying their features. “No, it wasn’t. I got the bastard on camera.”
“Can we see it?”
She looked at Vlad for a moment before reluctantly nodding. “It’s a doorbell camera, so it’s not the best quality, but if you give me a phone number, I’ll send you the picture.”
Five minutes later, they were sitting in Nickolay’s car, still parked in front of the house. The woman and her daughter were unloading the groceries from the car while Nickolay looked at the phone in Vlad’s hand. She was right, it wasn’t the best quality of picture, but they could see his face.
“What’s that on his shirt?” Vlad asked.
Nickolay zoomed in on the picture. “I think…it looks like a band T-shirt. The Replays.” He pulled out his own phone and looked it up. “It’s a local band. Original rock music. Looks like they’re playing at a bar Saturday.”
“Looks like we have plans this weekend,” Vlad said. “Tell your girlfriend you’re unavailable.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He knew that his relationship with Alice was still new, and they hadn’t talked about a commitment of any kind, but he had to admit to himself that he liked hearing her called his girlfriend.
9
ALICE
She was getting usedto cleaning this big house. It had only been two weeks, but she had a routine down. She was in the kitchen, washing the dishes left from dinner last night, when the sound of a pain-filled moan reached her ears.
Turning off the running water, she listened carefully, waiting to see if she heard it again. It didn’t seem likely that it was her imagination.
She wiped her hands on a dish towel and started to make her way across the kitchen. The sound came again, clearer this time. A moan followed by a gasp.
It was Chloe.
Hurrying into the living room, Alice found her on the couch, her hand on her swollen stomach and her face twisted in pain.
“Oh my God. Are you in labor?”
“I…don’t…know…”
Chloe’s voice was strained and her breathing was heavy. Alice’s mind blanked. She had some basic first aid training for her job, but it was mostly about treating wounds. Nothing prepared her for this. She moved closer and took Chloe’s hand.
Chloe’s breathing suddenly evened out, and the pain left her face.
