Page 86 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

Anya frowns as she looks up at me. “She was just what?”

“A deeply unhappy person who was terrible at manifesting the love she felt for her own children, I guess.”

“She was always doting on Aleks.”

“Aleks was the son, the one to inherit the throne. I think a mother’s love can be a complicated thing when she never got the affection she needed from her own parents. Maria went on to perpetuate the same cycle with you. And I’m sorry you were raised like that, thinking the number on the scale matters that much.”

Anya takes another deep breath and allows herself a dry smile. “Zoya told her off, though.”

“When?”

“When Mom said that part about the cotton candy going straight to my ass. Zoya said it would be a good thing. At least then there would be one Asimov woman with an actual ass in New York City.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That sounds like Zoya, alright. That lady packed a punch.”

“You met her, didn’t you? You must have, hanging around with Aleks all the time.”

“We did, yes. But after she moved out of the brownstone, we saw her maybe once or twice a year,” I say. “Zoya is a strong woman. You’re more like her than you think.”

“Strong? Me?”

I playfully rap her on the top of her head. “Well, you are both exceptionally hard-headed. You proved it in a literal sense.” That makes her laugh, a sound I love most. “What else do you remember about Zoya?”

“She had a place in the Hamptons. She said she’d love to take me there in the summer but insisted my mother wouldn’t be invited…” Her voice trails off. She’s figuring something out. “Oh… Chance. Wait. When I… When I was staying with her in Chappaqua sometime last year, she mentioned something about the Hamptons. She said… she said she was never listed as the owner for that property, just like the one in Chappaqua. Zoya sold both properties through a shell company, and she had someone she trusted buy them both, using her cash stash.”

“Which means—”

“If Zoya left Chappaqua because Leo found it, she might’ve headed for the Hamptons house. I specifically remember asking her if Leo were to find the Chappaqua house, then surely he’d check ownership records and figure out the Hamptons place, too, but Zoya said Leo’s not smarter than her. She sold that property a couple of more times. It’s listed under a different owner, someone completely unrelated to the Asimovs or their businesses.”

“This is good stuff, Anya. It might give us a promising lead on your grandmother.”

We resume our walk home. The lodge emerges from between the trees just a few yards away, built on its foundation of river rocks with windows facing each cardinal direction. But the closer we get, the greater the uneasiness grows within me. Either Anya’s fears have rubbed off on me, or I’m just now understanding we won’t be truly safe until Leo Sokolov is dead.

“Do you remember the Hamptons place?”

“Yes. We went there a couple of times in the summer, just Aleks and me. Both were weekend stays. Zoya hosted some interesting parties there. Private affairs. I’m pretty sure she gave me my first taste of champagne during one of those events.”

“Would you be able to find it on Google Maps?”

She nods slowly. “I can definitely try.”

Upon reaching the front of the lodge, I glance across the parking spaces first. My truck is still on its own. “Nico and Booker are still out,” I conclude. “We’ll whip up lunch and save them a couple of plates.”

“That sounds good,” Anya replies as she climbs the porch steps. “I was thinking lasagna? There’s the beef mince we got the other day. We never decided what we were going to do with it. Oh.” She pauses, and the silence that makes me turn away from my truck to look at her.

Anya stands frozen in front of the door.

Quiet.

I can see the tension gathering in her shoulders. Her knees are quivering.

Instantly, I bolt up the steps and join her. “What’s wrong?”

Anya can’t speak. She’s paralyzed with fear, her lips pale and parted, her eyes wide as she stares at something on the door. I follow her gaze and find a yellow sticky note taped at eye level. A message is written in thick, black marker.

“Leo was here,” I mutter. And his message is clear.

YOU HAVE 24H TO DELIVER ANYA OR SEELEY LAKE BURNS.

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