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I turned to Delaney. “Call Drew and if he answers, tell him to bring Emmy back here,” I barked at her. “Then call Emmy and make sure she’s alright.”
I’d call her myself but was certain she wouldn’t answer. What a fucking mess.
Her eyes widened. “Okay, but what’s going on? What’s wrong with Drew driving Emmy back to school? I mean, I’m not sure why he wouldn’t wait for me, but…” She frowned suddenly. “Wait, who was that girl you were with? Are you cheating on Emmy?”
I rolled my eyes but answered. “No, I had to talk to her for my boss.” I didn’t want to tell Delaney about our suspicions about Drew, fearful she would break into histrionics when we told her we suspected her boyfriend of being Emmy’s stalker. A stalker Delaney still didn’t know existed because we never fucking told her.
“Oh no,” Delaney wailed. “Poor Emmy got the wrong idea.”
“I know. Make the fucking calls,” I ground out, wanting to shake her so she’d follow my directions faster.
“My phone battery is running low. Do you have a charger?” Delaney asked, making me grit my teeth.
“I think they have a bunch in the dressing room at the back of the club but call right now and charge your phone after.”
She frowned at me and called. “He’s not answering. I got his voicemail.”
“Fuck. Text Emmy, then get your charger.”
She nodded and started typing out a message as she walked back to the dancer’s dressing room. “This way?”
“Yes, just past the bathrooms,” I said as I pulled up the file Drago sent me. There wasn’t much to it. Drew Smith enrolled in Emmy’s college at the end of the summer. Other than that, she had nothing on him. Fucking nothing.
The flimsy file had my throat closing with panic as it confirmed my worst fears. No matter what evidence we did or didn’t have, I was becoming more and more certain that Drew was Orlov.
She also noted the only man who went into Emmy's room yesterday was Drew.
Panic squeezed my internal organs like a vice, I shot Emmy a text, begging her to reply so she could tell me where she was. I wanted to tell her Drew was probably Orlov but was afraid she’d freak out and set him off if he hadn’t already blown his cover.
Ivan: Emmy, you misunderstood what you saw. I was only talking to that woman to convince her to go back to Russia bc her boyfriend wants her to go back. That’s it. Come back here so I can talk to you.
I walked over to where Hannah and Nikolai were talking quietly. She was crying, so I sure as fuck didn’t want to interrupt, but the situation called for it.
“Hey,” I began.
Nikolai turned to me, a ferocious look on his face. “Not fucking now.”
Rage clawed at my chest, urging me to grab him and slam him against the bar, but I knew that was a pointless waste of energy. I was just looking for an outlet for my anger and he was unwittingly providing it.
“Yes, fucking now. Orlov has Emmy.” I quickly filled them in on what was happening, and how Emmy got into Drew’s car.
Hannah gasped and covered her face with her hands. “Oh my god, what? What a disaster this whole thing has become. I can’t believe I dragged her down here only to have this happen.”
Nikolai rubbed her back and soothed her. “Babe, you didn’t know. I should have told you what was going on.”
“Yes, but—” Hannah started.
I clenched my jaw in frustration. “Look, you guys can sort out fucking responsibility later. Hannah, I need you to text and call Emmy. We need to get her on the phone.”
Hannah nodded eagerly and pulled out her phone to call. After a few moments, I heard her leaving a message. Emmy wasn’t even answering for her sister?
I called Emmy again because I couldn’t handle not doing something. My clenched fist practically cracked my cell phone as I listened to it go to her voicemail cheerily telling me to leave a message. Fortunately, Anya called before I threw the fucking thing against a wall.
“I have her cell phone. I can’t believe he let her keep it on, if it is Orlov.”
“Where are they going?”
“He’s headed south on I55.”
