The Prince's Gamble (16 page)

A harsh laugh erupted from him. “Rumor has it your boss is not as convinced.”

“Not responsible for his opinions.” She added, “Would I be off track if I said the source of that rumor was Detective Roman?”

Alexander shrugged and pulled off the highway onto the side street leading to Russian Nights. It took only another minute or so until they were parked in his reserved space. He turned in his seat to face her.

“Peter is a close personal friend, Kat,” he began. “His involvement in this investigation is problematic for him, but rest assured that he has not compromised the integrity of your investigation with anything he’s revealed.”

“Like the fact that my boss still doesn’t trust you.” She was angry—and frankly, surprised—that Peter was telling tales about what had been shared during a meeting. She wondered how the two men had come to be such close friends.

“And like the fact that you’re willing to bet your badge on me,” he said softly.

Kathleen dropped her gaze and rubbed her hands on her thighs. “I let my feelings for you get in the way, Sasha. That was wrong, but I have no doubt that you’re an honorable and honest man.”

Alexander had steeled himself against further rejection since the night before, but Kathleen’s honest words returned a small measure of hope to him. Grasping her chin with his thumb and forefinger, he urged her to look at him. “Some might say I’m a risk-taker, especially with a project as ambitious as Russian Nights. But normally I don’t like to gamble.”

“I know you don’t.”

He nodded and plowed on. “I took a gamble last night, even though I knew the odds weren’t in my favor.”

Tears suddenly shimmered in her eyes. “This isn’t about winning or losing a bet, Sasha. It’s about what’s in here.” She tapped a spot over her heart.

He reached for her hand and clutched it in his. “Why can’t you trust me with your heart the way you do with your badge, Kat?”

“God, Sasha. What you’re asking is—“

“A gamble, Kat. Take that risk. For us.”

She looked away. “There is no us, Sasha. I’m here to do a job, and when I’m done, we both go back to our regular lives.”

He had only ever begged for one thing in his life—to be freed by his kidnappers and returned home. But he would not beg now, even though she was holding his emotions hostage as surely as his body had been as a child.

He inclined his head regally, like the prince he was. “As you wish, Special Agent Martinez.”

Chapter Twenty

Kathleen winced at the cold, imperious tone of his words, but reminded herself that she had to remain objective in order to do her job. Until this case was closed, that meant stepping away from whatever was going on between her and Alexander emotionally.

“We should get to work,” he said, and swiftly exited the car, leaving her to chase after him to keep pace. That he’d forgotten his manners and left her behind was a measure of his fury.

With a swipe of his keycard, he cleared them into the employee’s area and walked to the elevator banks, avoiding any eye contact with her the entire time. After pushing the button, he buried his hands in his pockets and said, “I’m just going to check in with my assistant before I make my rounds.”

She nodded. “I’ll be with Jim. We’ll meet with you later.”

“Sure,” he said, and strode onto the elevator without a backward glance, but as he turned, their gazes skipped across one another for the briefest moment before the door closed.

She could deal with his anger, but not the glimmer of pain she had seen before he shuttered his emotions again.

She knew he wasn’t a man to give trust or love lightly, and he had given her both. It wasn’t as though she didn’t trust or care for him in return—she did—it was just not the right time to allow herself those emotions.

It might not ever be the right time. With him, anyway.

Stepping into the next elevator, she headed down to the basement security area, intent on submersing herself in her job once more. Hoping that when the next call came, she would be that much closer to finding Alexander’s missing hostess, and ending the money laundering that was going on in the casino.

As for her and Alexander…

They’d just have to see.

…

It was hard for Alexander to keep to his routine when with each minute that passed, a growing sense of disquiet filled his gut. It wasn’t just the situation with Kathleen. It was something more.

He could feel it. And he didn’t like it.

Closing the door to his office, he paced before the windows, but the beautiful view that normally brought him such peace yielded no relief from the unrest clawing at his gut.

Needing something to do to distract himself, he ordered a meal to be served for Jim, Kathleen, and himself after their security briefing. Then he sat at this desk and went online to check the stock market happenings, but even the reports which showed his portfolio growing nicely did little to cheer him.

He’d learned early on that money wasn’t what life was all about. But then again, it was easier to have that philosophy when one had more money than Midas.

Pushing away from his desk, he rose and walked to the small sitting area in his office. He snapped on the television and flipped through the channels, searching for something to distract him. Nothing caught his interest. He was standing there, surfing through the dozens of stations for a second time when the phone rang. It was Tabitha announcing that Jim and Kathleen had arrived.

He shut off the television and waited for them to enter.

Judging from the dour looks on both their faces, they had nothing good to report. Which only increased the vague sense that something was not right.

“Any developments?” He motioned for the duo to take seats, but they remained standing. Both in that pose that screamed “cop” and added even more to his unrest.

“We were able to triangulate the throwaway that was used to call you. Although the phone was bought in Atlantic City, the signal came from an industrial area in Camden with several large warehouses.”

“Do you think they might be holding the women there?” Alexander asked, hoping they’d soon have some kind of break in the case.

“We’ve started reviewing the names of all of the owners and leaseholders for the nearby buildings, and we’ve got agents on the ground searching the area.”

“That sounds promising.” Alexander prayed they would find the women in one of the warehouses, just as they had in the case involving his family’s building. But he hoped there would be no loss of life as there had been years earlier. Turning to Jim, he asked, “Anything happening here in the casino?”

Jim shook his head. “No sign of the escorts today. Just another routine day. Although we did catch a banned gambler at one of the poker tables. He’d added a moustache and colored his hair to try and hide who he was, but the facial recognition software nailed him.”

“Was he card counting?” Alexander asked.

Jim nodded. “That’s what tipped us off. His luck was way too good. When we ran him, we got the hit.”

Alexander smiled and said, “Nice to know all that money we invested in the software was worthwhile.”

“Definitely, boss.” Jim glanced from him to Kathleen, sensing the tension between them. Though the heat of anger from their discussion in his car had slightly diminished to a chill calm.

“If you don’t need me for anything related to Petrov—”

“No, we don’t, but I ordered dinner. I know you’ve both been working hard and might like to relax with a nice meal.” Alexander sneaked a peek at his watch. “The food should be here shortly. Why don’t we retire to the executive dining room?”

He held out his hand in invitation. After a shared glance, Kathleen preceded Jim out of his office and into the dining room just a few short paces away. When they arrived, his staff was putting the finishing touches on the table setting.

Alexander strolled to the bar and gestured to the decanter of wine. “Would you care for a glass?”

Both Jim and Kathleen waved him off, but he poured himself some. The slow sips might help to wash down the dinner sure to stick in his throat from the tension in his gut. Tension which wasn’t all about Kathleen.

That unsettled sense still remained, and by now it had grown to one of impending doom—although maybe that was to be expected. After all, in a little over an hour, Petrov’s associate would be calling with instructions.

They sat down for the meal and one of his wait staff immediately pushed a cart close to the table. With a flourish, he expertly prepared a Caesar dressing.

With another theatric move, the chef spilled the dressing onto the salad and tossed it. He followed by plating it into bowls which had been chilling over ice.

Once everyone was served, Alexander jabbed at the salad and ate a few forkfuls, but the food was tasteless in the wake of his concern.

Kathleen also ate a few mouthfuls, but then spent the next minutes pushing the salad around on the plate.

He snapped his fork down. “Is it not to your liking? I can have him prepare another serving for you.”

“It’s fine. It’s just that I would rather choose my own meals, thank you.”

So they were back to that polite hostility again. It irked him. Even if he could understand the reason behind it.

His security chief’s nose was almost buried in his meal, valiantly trying to ignore the strained conversation. Since Jim was almost done with his salad, Alexander waved over his majordomo.

Ben stood beside Kathleen and said, “We have a choice of three items for tonight’s meal.” He then rattled off the selections Alexander had suggested while chagrin flooded Kathleen’s face.

“The filet would be wonderful. Medium. Thank you,” she responded.

“And you, Chief Reynolds?” the majordomo continued.

Jim likewise ordered the filet mignon. Though anything served to him was likely to be as tasteless as the salad, Alexander ordered the same.

As his majordomo stepped away to place the orders, his staff cleared away the salad plates, provided steak knives, and then offered servings of frosty lemon ice to clear their palates.

Again there was nothing but the jangle and clatter of cutlery in the otherwise silent room.

The rest of the meal progressed in similar fashion. While Alexander forced himself to finish the perfectly prepared steak and the assorted side dishes his majordomo selected as accompaniments, at times the food almost choked him as the appointed hour grew ever closer.

They all skipped dessert, but ordered coffee and tea. With the samovar to one side of the room prepped and the tea steeping, he asked the staff to give them some privacy.

After they cleared the room, Alexander rose and placed the cell phone on the table.

“Are your people ready?” He walked to the samovar and poured two cups of tea as Kathleen answered.

“We’re ready to trace any call that comes in and are recording all the conversations. Do you remember what we discussed earlier?”

“I let them make the offer if at all possible. As for a face-to-face, I try to push for meeting in a public location.”

Kathleen had no sooner nodded when the cell phone rang. It was well ahead of the seven o’clock deadline.

She texted a message to confirm her team was ready and was relieved to receive an acknowledgment that they were already tracing the call and recording the conversation. With that, she sat back to listen.

“You’re early,” Alexander replied when he recognized the voice from that afternoon.

“We want our money tonight. Unmarked hundreds, non-sequential,” the man commanded in Russian, each word violently curt.

“What’s in it for me?” Alexander pressed in English, wanting Kathleen to be able to follow and advise him.

“The same cut Petrov was getting.”

“What kind of cut is that?”

A smoke-rough laugh erupted across the line. “Eager aren’t you? Twenty percent.”

Alexander glanced toward Kathleen. She motioned for him to slow down and mouthed, “We’re still tracing.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m eager because I need the money, comrade. Running the casino is quite expensive. Speaking of which, I suppose Petrov was bearing the cost of the escorts?” Even then that would leave Nicolai quite a nice chunk of change, considering the rates he had been paying the women.

“Yes,” the man answered before plowing on. “Do you know the condemned buildings on Wellington by the wetlands?”

Alexander hesitated, both because he was unsure of the location and because he wanted to give the FBI team additional time for the trace. “Not really. Are those the boarded-up warehouses near the airport?” he asked as Kathleen gave him a sign that they had a successful trace.

“Those are the ones. Be behind the second building at the back delivery entrance. Midnight.”

The line went dead.

He flipped the cell phone closed and laid it on the table. “You have a location?”

“The Camden waterfront. We’ve got it narrowed to a fairly small area. It’s close to where he made the earlier call. We’ll coordinate a door-to-door search during the money drop tonight.”

“Let me make the drop, boss,” Jim piped in, his craggy brow furrowed with worry.

Alexander shook his head. “If they don’t see me, alone as they ordered, they may bolt. Then we’ll never know if they have Vanessa.”

Kathleen jumped in, concern alive in her otherwise closed off features. “It’s going to be risky. Maybe you should consider Jim’s offer.”

“We both know I’m the best, maybe the only, candidate to do the drop,” he countered evenly.

A reluctant dip of her head was followed by a more determined look in Jim’s direction. “Since the prince seems set on doing this, do you have any additional suggestions for his defense?”

Jim ran a hand across his buzz cut hair and blew out a disgusted breath. “They’ll be sure to pat him down so a gun is out of the question.”

Kathleen blinked at that. She thought about Alexander being defenseless in the hands of a man like Stravinski, and remembered the old fears he’d have to overcome to do this. A weird sensation, like that of someone squeezing her heart, grabbed hold of her.

She shoved away from the table and strode to the windows, staring out at the darkening sky for a moment before she turned and faced the two men again.

“We need something small the prince can use to create a distraction in the event things go south.”

“I’ve got some pen-sized mace dispensers downstairs. I bought them for my daughter, but she refused to take them since they’re, let’s just say, not necessarily legal,” Jim said.

“That may be just the thing. Can you get them so we can try one out?” Kathleen asked.

Jim wasted not a moment to depart, leaving the two of them staring at each other uneasily. Alexander took a breath as if to speak, but then exhaled roughly and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. He remained there for long moments, his back to her, maddening her with his silence.

Striding to his side, she placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head up to examine his features, reflected in the glass of the windows. They were much like they had been the first time she saw him. Controlled. Distant. Unyielding.

She balled her hands, fighting the urge to touch him. To soothe the anxiety that she sensed lay beneath that stony façade. But she restrained herself, although the rope she used to rein in her emotions was stretched taut. It was because of her that he was doing this. It was because of her he was at risk, and it didn’t sit too well inside her heart that the one thing he had asked of her, she had denied him.

“We’re supposed to meet my boss in your security area at ten to prepare you.”

Yet more silence greeted her, pushing her restraint to the limit. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“I noticed you were back to calling me ‘the prince.’ Since you want to keep this purely professional, I saw no need for any further discussion.”

His words snapped the control keeping her in check. “God damn you.”

“There, there, Special Agent Martinez. Such language is uncalled for.”

She got right in his face, her body nearly flush to his, as she prepared to tell him just how wrong he was about what she was feeling. The door to the dining room swung open and Jim entered, but jerked to a stop at the sight of them plastered against one another.

“It’s not what you think,” she said even as Jim advanced and laid a handful of items on the dining room table.

“Actually, I think it is. I’ll be back later, boss. Much later.”

He rushed from the room and Kathleen stepped back, but Alexander snagged her arm.

“Let me go,” she said, and when he didn’t release her she wiggled in his arms to try and break free. He maintained his grasp on her.