Page 66 of Emerald Vices

“Nowhere.” Remi nips at my heels and gives Andrey’s hand a lick. He’s been around the house a lot more the last few days. Every hour, it feels like we’re taking another step in the right direction.

“I wanted to give you this.” As I raise my eyebrows, he leans in and kisses my lips. “Have a great day, lastochka.”

I practically float to the armored jeep. I don’t even care that Leonty, Olaf, and Leif are exchanging knowing looks with each other.

I hum under my breath as we meander through the endless Midtown traffic. I’ll be a few minutes late, but that kiss was definitely worth it.

As we round the corner to the building, I’m gathering up my bag when the boys start speaking Russian.

That’s rarely a good sign.

“What’s going on?”

Before they can answer, I catch sight of the police car parked along the curb. Judging from the looks on the men’s faces, they don’t like this any more than I do.

Leif twists around in the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry. This most likely has nothing to do with you. Just go about your day as if everything is normal. We’ll investigate.”

I make it all of two steps into the office before he’s proven wrong.

Marge calls out my name. “Natalia,” she says as the door swings open. “There are officers here to see you.”

I turn around and try to smile—try to take in anything about the men in case it becomes important later—but my eyes keep falling to the shiny guns on their hips.

One is in an NYPD uniform, a gun gleaming in the holster at his side. The second is wearing a sloppy brown suit, a plaid tie, and a curved smile.

“Good morning, Ms. Boone,” the one in the brown suit says. “I’m Detective George Harris. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”

I force my gaze to stay on him instead of looking towards my bodyguards. “I’m sorry—what is this regarding, Detective?”

“The disappearance of your colleague,” he says, that smile not moving even the tiniest bit. “Mr. Byron Wells.”

26

NATALIA

We’re so screwed.

The good-looking detective saunters towards me as my bodyguards close in.

“No need for the display of force here, fellas. I just want to have a little chat with you, Ms. Boone.” Detective Harris gives me a friendly, knowing look like there’s any chance in hell I’ll be on his side. “Can you call off your henchmen?”

“What is this about?” Leif barks.

“That’s between Ms. Boone and the city of New York.” He points at the badge on his coat. “And this means that I’m not obligated to answer your questions, Cujo. But you are obligated to answer mine.”

“Show me a warrant and I’ll?—”

I step between them before the situation escalates. “It’s okay, Leif. I can talk to the detective.”

The detective flashes a toothy smile at Leif. “Down, boy. It’s all good.”

Leif doesn’t look at all happy as I place a hand on his chest and force him back a few paces. He doesn’t look at me, not even when I mutter in his face, “It’s just a couple of questions. I’m sure it’s routine. Don’t stress.”

“I don’t like the look of that mudak,” Leif hisses under his breath.

Leonty draws in closer. “Neither do I.”

Remi’s on edge, too. He keeps growling at the detective and the cop.