Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Which is why the article from a small Geneva newspaper that pops up when I click on the alert is so disturbing.
The headline reads:
German Tourist Arrested in Missing Person Case
Heart pounding, I skim the article. Apparently, there’s been a breakthrough in the case of Linus Bocelli, who’s been listed as missing for four months. Some new evidence came to light that led the authorities to a suspect in his disappearance: a twenty-three-year-old German tourist by the name of… Birgit Schwann.
I do a double take.
No.
It can’t be.
They couldn’t possibly be talking about the same Birgit I know.
Frantically, I read on.
The young woman was staying at the hostel at the time of Bocelli’s disappearance…
Fuck.
It is her.
There must be some kind of error here.
Why would they arrest Birgit, of all people?
Also, shouldn’t she be in Thailand by now?
I’ve been meaning to get in touch with her, but I kept forgetting to ask Konstantin to find her number for me.
This is bad. I need to do something. Anything.
I leap to my feet just as Alexei enters the kitchen.
Whatever he reads on my face must alarm him because he closes the distance between us in three long strides.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is sharp as he grips my arm. “What happened?”
“It’s Birgit. Here.” I hand my phone to him.
He reads the article, his expression unchanging.
Did he already know about this?
“This is… unfortunate,” he says, looking up from the screen. He hands my phone back to me. “I’ll let Valery know, though I’m sure his people are already on top of it.”
“On top of it how?” My own tone sharpens. “Why was Birgit arrested for a crime I committed?”
“We’ll find out,” Alexei says and pulls out his own phone. His fingers fly swiftly over the screen, presumably firing off a message. Putting the phone back into his pocket, he says, “Now let’s eat while we wait.”
Chapter 29
Alexei
My Alinyonok is tense as I blend our morning smoothies. She’s worried about the German girl. I don’t care much about Birgit’s fate, but I don’t want Alina upset, so I will do whatever is necessary to fix this situation.
Valery’s reply to my message arrives with a ding as I hand Alina her cup.
Aware of the situation. Handling it.
I reply back: Need more details. Alina aware as well.
I’m sure he understands what that last part means.
“What did he say?” Alina asks when I put the phone away again.
I take a gulp of my smoothie. “Nothing much yet. As soon as—”
Another ding on my phone.
I skim Valery’s reply, then read it out loud:
Police found footage from the hostel’s security camera. Schwann had a confrontation with Bocelli a few days prior to the incident. He came on to her in the lobby; she punched him in the face. Told him to fuck off and die. Since this took place prior to Alina’s arrival at the hostel, my team didn’t scrub it.
Alina drags in an audible breath. “She never told me about that. Said he was harmless, albeit a ‘pervy idiot.’”
“Maybe he was harmless to her.”
I bet the motherfucker preferred his victims weak and passive—either drunk or too sick to fight back, the latter being the category he probably figured Alina fell into. Except she surprised him.
For the umpteenth time, I wish I’d gotten there earlier so I could’ve sliced the bastard open myself. Slowly. With a serrated blade. Keeping him conscious the whole time as I force-fed him his own guts and—
“We have to do something to fix this.” Alina paces the kitchen, smoothie in hand. “We can’t let her get in trouble for what I did.”
“I’m sure they’ll just question her and let her go. There’s no body, nor any other evidence linking her to the disappearance.”
Or at least there shouldn’t be. Unless Valery’s team overlooked something else?
I reach for my phone again:
Is there something else we should know? Any reason this can’t go away on its own?
Valery’s reply takes a minute to arrive, and I read it out loud for Alina again:
Maybe. We’re digging deeper into the Bocelli family in Italy. Preliminary evidence suggests they’re connected to Enzo Accardi. Linus appears to have been his third cousin.
Motherfucker. That would explain why the rape charges against him were dropped.
I lower my phone to find Alina staring up at me.
“Who the fuck is Enzo Accardi?” she demands.
“The owner of Accardi Enterprises.” When she still looks blank, I add, “His organization runs Sicily.”
Alina chokes on the smoothie she just took a sip of. “They’re mafia?”
“They don’t like to be called that anymore.” Which I can understand.
“But that’s what they are, right?” Alina sets her drink down with a thud. “The man I killed is connected to the Italian mob?”
“The Sicilian mob.” Though now that I think about it, Accardi has his tentacles all over Italy.
Alina throws up her hands. “Why didn’t this come up before?”