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“What if I take her for a drive and then pull over to stretch but forget to put the car in park and ‘accidentally’ send her over a cliff?”
“It’s a good plan up until the point where Alexander and Mikhail find out about her death and kill Cora in punishment.”
Anya snaps her fingers. “Dang. I’ll keep brainstorming.”
I lean over my desk and clap my sister on the shoulder. “You can brainstorm while you take Francia out to lunch and pick out some jewelry.”
“Jewelry? We’re going shopping together now, too?”
“Francia is like a dragon. Or whichever mythical creature likes shiny baubles. Point is, I want her to be so busy guarding her hoard that she doesn’t see me coming.”
“Fine. But I’m buying myself something, too.”
“Go for it,” I tell her.
“It’s going to be big. And expensive. Like, a necklace that needs its own private security. We’ll need to inform NASA of the purchase ‘cause they’ll be able to see it from space.”
“I’ll call the International Space Station right now and let them know.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re no fun.”
“And you’re not getting out of this no matter how many threats you make.” I give her a tight smile. “Francia is currently in the sitting room, if you want to go make plans with her.”
Anya scowls and waves goodbye with one very specific finger.
23
IVAN
The moment Francia and Anya disappear down the driveway, Yasha arrives. “They’re gone?” he asks.
“For now. But we don’t have endless time.”
I’ve swept my bedroom and office for cameras and microphones countless times since Francia moved in. I’m confident she isn’t recording any of my conversations. The only danger left is that she could somehow eavesdrop on my meetings herself. Hence getting her out of the house.
Despite what Anya probably thinks, I’m not just sending her out on the town with Francia as some kind of twisted punishment. She’s giving us vital time to plot and plan. She’s getting us one step closer to Cora.
When we get to my office, I lock the door while Yasha spreads out a stack of papers he brought with them. A few of them are large, architectural plans sketched out in graphite.
“Alexander’s house,” he explains.
“That didn’t take long.”
He smiles. “Fun fact: the night security guard at City Hall is easily bought with a couple courtside basketball tickets and a crisp one-hundred dollar bill.”
“Hopefully, Alexander’s staff can be just as easily bought.”
“So far, so good,” Yasha says. “The main problem is that Alexander hires and fires maids so fast. One of the maids said that he canned her without paying her a cent. The cheap asshole. I covered her lost wages with a little bonus in exchange for some tales of her time in the McAllister household.”
“That explains why he needs Cora so badly. He’s broke.”
It’s an explanation, but there is no excuse for what he’s done. And there sure as fuck will be no salvation.
“When we’re done with him,” Yasha snarls, “he’ll have a lot more to worry about than his lack of money. Lack of a head, for instance.”
I laugh grimly.
Then we buckle down and get to work.
