Part 18 (2/2)
Barayev and Akopyan had an old-school grudge, dating back to before the fall of the Soviet Union. He didn't want to take sides in the coming bloodbath. That kind of thing ratch eted up the cost of doing business. Huh, maybe he'd learned something from Foster after all.
”No need. This is just a genuine good deed. If you take a look at Ricci and Pasternak of Pair-A-Dice, you'll find everything you need to know about Akopyan. I suspected they hadn't cleared it with you first.”
”This is my town,” Barayev said darkly. ”I will take care of it.”
When Serrano hung up the phone, he was smiling. The Odessa Russians had divided up Vegas with the Jew mafia, and there was no room in the city for the Armenians; they should have stayed in San Fran.
Now he just had to wait.
After work, Foster made four unnecessary turns to lose anybody who might be tailing him. Consequently, he was fifteen minutes late when he met Mia for breakfast. She looked mildly irritated, but as ever, she was impeccably dressed. Today she wore a raw azure shantung silk suit, cut in severe lines.
Jewel tones suited her, he thought as he approached the table. He liked it when she wore her hair down; it softened her strong features. Inky tendrils spilled against her cheeks. She had a pot of coffee waiting, but she hadn't ordered anything to eat. Mia pa.s.sed him the menu, though he already knew what he wanted.
”How do you work these hours?” she asked. ”It isn't human.”
”We do what we have to. Have you had a chance to think about where Kyra might've gone? Time isn't on our side.” He didn't care, of course. His objective was to detain Mia Sauter so she didn't realize she was being held, not help her in any fas.h.i.+on.
”I don't know,” she said in frustration. ”She doesn't have many friends.”
”She wouldn't,” Foster agreed.
”What's that supposed to mean?”
He met her hot dark gaze steadily. ”She moves around a lot.”
”Very true.” Mia relaxed slightly.
The waitress came to take their order, and Foster got the special-pancakes, fried eggs, hash browns, bacon, and sausage. He knew he didn't look like he could pack it in like that, which was why he tried not to eat with other people. They commented too much on the disparity between his lean frame and his appet.i.te. Mia got fruit and yogurt.
Putting the hooker on notice had been a bad idea. He found himself watching the way her lush mouth framed the spoon. It took everything he had not to respond to that, but Foster forced his body into quiescence. At the time, he'd thought himself a whisper from being caught. He'd already started making plans to move Lexie and Beulah, new state, new names. Now he wasn't sure what, if anything, Serrano knew. For a thug, the man owned a lot of sheer animal cunning. At this point he could only stay the course and will his nerve not to break.
”So you have no idea who she'd turn to.”
”Since her dad died, she doesn't really have anyone.” Mia wrapped slim hands around her coffee mug, the cream crockery contrasting in an oddly sensual fas.h.i.+on against her dark skin. ”She's more alone than anyone I ever met.”
Inexplicably he wanted to comfort her. ”She has you.”
She shook her head. ”Not so it counts. I travel a lot, too. It's hard for us to stay in touch. I don't even have a home base these days.”
”Why is that?”
Having deployed a question that would keep her busy for a while, he dug into his food. By the time he got off work, he felt like his muscles might be digesting themselves. Hunger didn't even begin to encompa.s.s it.
”I'm a consultant,” she explained. ”When I audit a company, I first see how the employees are spending their time in the network. Then I make recommendations that will positively impact productivity.”
Foster smiled. ”So you remove solitaire from all office computers and restrict net access?”
She offered an appreciative grin in answer. ”Something like that. It's not always so simple.”
”Nothing ever is.”
They ate in silence-him with pure focus, her in distraction-until Mia said, ”That's not all I do.”
He didn't look up, didn't ask. ”I guessed as much. Look, I'm not interested in your secrets. I just want to help you find Kyra.”
”There's only one person she would turn to,” Mia said then. ”Me. But I was out of the country.” She hesitated, as if something big had dawned on her. Her eyes looked too big for her face, skin going pale.
Finally, Foster thought. He'd suspected before she had. If Mia cared enough to come to Vegas, then Kyra cared enough to go looking for Foster thought. He'd suspected before she had. If Mia cared enough to come to Vegas, then Kyra cared enough to go looking for her her , too. Doubly so, if she was the one in trouble. He just needed to hang on to this pretty little bit of bait long enough to finish what he'd started. , too. Doubly so, if she was the one in trouble. He just needed to hang on to this pretty little bit of bait long enough to finish what he'd started.
”Bad timing,” he said, determinedly noncommittal. She would do all the running in this race.
”Are you trying to p.i.s.s me off?”
Foster glanced up then. ”No. Did you want me to write a dissertation?”
”Quit interrupting me.”
Maybe he was was trying to p.i.s.s her off a little. He liked the way her eyes snapped sparks. ”Yes, ma'am.” trying to p.i.s.s her off a little. He liked the way her eyes snapped sparks. ”Yes, ma'am.”
”I had told her I would be taking a job in Fargo next,” she went on. ”But that contract fell through. The company found the . . . problem on their own. They didn't need my services after all.”
”Embezzler?” he guessed.
”Yes. Sometimes companies are reluctant to admit to executive error. It shakes up the stocks, scares the shareholders. They prefer to wrap things up quietly.”
”Which is where you come in. You pose as a systems consultant and find out who's swiping from the cookie jar.”
Mia nodded. ”Very good. The point is, I bet Kyra is headed for Fargo. If she's in trouble, she'll come to me.”
”That's logical.” Foster only marveled that it had taken her so long to work it out. He wanted to blame fatigue, not judge her a dizzy blond in brunette clothing. ”Do you have a way to get in touch with her?”
”If I did,” she snapped, ”I would have done it already. I wouldn't even be here, would I?”
”She might've pitched her cell phone,” he said reasonably. ”I know I would, if I didn't want to be tracked.”
She conceded the point with a tired nod. For a moment, she leaned her head into her hands, and then she looked up, a study in vulnerability. ”I'm sorry. I know you're just trying to help.”
If only you knew. Foster permitted a bland smile, completely in keeping with his cipher persona. Her anger couldn't strike off him; he was milquetoast, immune to strong emotions. It was time to take things up a notch. Foster permitted a bland smile, completely in keeping with his cipher persona. Her anger couldn't strike off him; he was milquetoast, immune to strong emotions. It was time to take things up a notch.
”I'm afraid I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
”I don't care. Just tell me.”
”The guy Serrano sent after Kyra called in. He said he's off the job. He thinks my boss is a sc.u.mbag.”
Mia's eyes shone with such relief, he felt like a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. ”I agree with him. And that's fantastic!” Then her face fell. ”s.h.i.+t. What's the bad news?”
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