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Or to reminisce about all the good times they’d had together.
All those memories lived in his head and that was all he had left. All he’d ever have. That and his father’s pithy words of wisdom about what women wanted, of course.
Suddenly sick of his thoughts, he decided to answer Nova. Whether to humor her or because it was important to her, he wasn’t sure yet, but he broke his personal rule of investigating and decided to stick his nose into it.
All the way in.
“You want my opinion? Okay. Here goes. Yeah, I think you should reach out to Ace’s family. If he was here, I’d suggest you go to him first. But like I said at the restaurant, he’s not, and you deserve some closure.”
“Thank you. I was hoping you’d say that.”
And just like that, she upended him once more. From happy and funny to questioning and serious, to poking at him with a big side of sassy, he’d seen so many facets of Nova Ellis in a few short hours. Yet, here was another one.
Vulnerability.
“I’ve actually met Ace’s siblings. Why don’t we go back to my office, and you can give them a call.”
* * *
Ferdinand Adler didn’t lik
e to be kept waiting.
He didn’t like waiting for a meal. He didn’t like waiting for a car. And he sure as hell didn’t like waiting for news of his traitorous ex-girlfriend.
Standing up from his desk and stalking over to the credenza where he kept several bottles of liquor, he poured himself a generous helping of some of Kentucky’s finest bourbon. Tossing back half of it, he slammed the tumbler back onto the countertop, the hit of crystal against thick glass causing a satisfying crack.
Where the hell had she gone?
He’d asked himself that same question for the past few months. The same day the shipment went to hell. He wanted to chalk it up to a coincidence, but something about the timing bothered him.
Had she been a plant all along?
An undercover cop?
Or just another young, naive blonde, which were in abundant supply in New York?
He was depending on that shipment to make his mark and move up into the inner circle of trust with his business associates.
Associates who had not been pleased by the challenges at the port and the delays in getting the prime, grade A heroin they’d been depending on into circulation.
It had come in eventually, and they had grudgingly accepted his apologies when their stock was delivered in full, but it hadn’t gotten him that seat in the inner circle he so coveted.
It had also put him several more “tests” behind as a way to prove his loyalty.
He’d done them all, of course. He’d had no choice. The three private flights with cocaine stuffed into false chambers in his carry-on suitcase. The additional money laundering he’d had to add to one of his personal operations down in the East Village. And the hit he’d executed by himself in a dimly lit area of Central Park one night.
Oh yes, he’d done them all and done them flawlessly.
None of it explained why Nova had gone missing the very day the shipment had been held up. A seemingly minor detail that had nagged at him for five freaking months.
He had put his best tech guy on the problem about three days in when it became evident he couldn’t find the stupid bitch, his texts going unanswered. Wally had put trackers on all of her accounts, her cell phone, and even attempted to put one on her email.
Yet nothing had hit.
Which had left him in an uneasy conundrum. Had she simply run away? Or had his wannabe boss done something to her? Or worse yet, was she working with the cops, biding her time in some witness protection program?
Regardless of the answer, she had to be punished. And for several months he figured the tracking on her bank account would ultimately give him what he needed to hunt her down and deliver the punishment himself. Only it hadn’t, because other than the regular, automatic payments she had scheduled to come out each month from her checking account for her rent and utilities, nothing else showed up.
