Page 95 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

“He’s right,” I tell Chance, then turn to give the sheriff a nod.

“Where’s Breonna’s car?” Booker asks.

Sheriff Mills escorts her up the station’s front steps. “I called a tow truck. They’ll bring it over to the station in about thirty minutes.”

* * *

“Was thereanything in Breonna’s car that could tell us where Anya is?” I ask Mills ten minutes later as we stand in front of an interview room in the station’s underground level.

Chance and Booker are pacing the hallway, making calls and reaching out to everyone we know in the area and in law enforcement to help us get a line on Anya as Breonna sits in a chair, uncomfortable but just as tranquil as before.

“Nothing,” Mills tells me. “You said there was a duffel bag missing from your place, along with some of Anya’s clothes and stuff? I didn’t find it in Breonna’s car. A forensic sweep will tell us more, though. Until I find otherwise, I’m treating Breonna as a kidnapping suspect.”

“Kidnapping?” Breonna scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You will be investigated, charged, and prosecuted accordingly, if you don’t cooperate,” Mills replies. “This is serious.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she insists.

“Let me put this in terms you will understand,” I tell her. “You’re looking at officialfederalcharges. A criminal record. Prosecution in a court of law. A federal prison sentence. And if something happens to Anya… much, much worse. Breonna, do yourself a favor and get ahead of it while you still can. Anya can’t be out there on her own. She’s in danger.”

Breonna gives me a pained look, as if confused. Her calmness bugs the hell out of me. “I don’t understand why you’re mad at me. I did you a favor, Nico. You and your brothers. Anya needed help getting away from here. She knew you wouldn’t understand, but I’ll give the girl credit, she had your best interests at heart.”

“So, then, what… You staged the whole break-in thing this morning just to get us out of the lodge?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“What did you do, next?” Mills cuts in.

She rolls her eyes. “I got Anya into my car and dropped her off at the airport in Missoula. Seriously, Nico, you are too emotionally involved to see it, but I really did you all a favor. Anya was too dangerous to stick around.”

“That wasn’t for you to decide,” I reply just as Chance is about to go on another furious tirade as Booker keeps one ear on the conversation and the other one on his phone. “Anya was safer with us.”

“Haven’t you noticed she brought us nothing but trouble? Russian mobsters, murderers. Nico, Anya’s bad news. I get that you’re fond of her, and I can’t blame you. She’s a sweet girl. But she doesn’t belong here, and she certainly doesn’t belong in your life.”

“Again, not for you to decide,” I say. “You said you took her to the airport in Missoula?”

Breonna shrugs. “I got her a first-class ticket to New York, gave her some cash to move around the city. She’s headed to her grandmother’s place in the Hamptons, I think. She asked for help. I didnotkidnap her! Trust me, Nico, I did it for you”

“You did it for yourself, you conniving bitch,” Booker hisses as he gets off the phone. “I just spoke to our contacts in New York. Nobody knows if Zoya Asimova is even still alive.”

Mills checks his phone for incoming texts. “And my deputies are telling me they did another sweep of the town and its surrounding hotels and motels. There’s no sign of the Russians anywhere. It’s as if they vanished into thin air, too. Something’s going on here.”

“And Anya’s right at the center.” I exhale sharply and level my gaze on Breonna. “For once in your life, do the right thing. Who knew that you were taking Anya out of Seeley Lake this morning?”

“No one,” she says, but I don’t believe her.

I scoff, shaking my head in dismay. If I can’t get her to do the right thing, I can at least take advantage of her twisted affection for me, whatever it takes to get Anya and our unborn child back before it’s too late. “I expected better of you, Breonna. I thought you had genuine feelings for me.”

“But I do,” she replies and gets up, walking toward me with a pleading look in her eyes. “I care about you, Nico, which is why I helped Anya get out of your life. You will thank me later; I promise. When it’s all over, when the pain has healed, you’ll understand.”

“The pain… Breonna, Anya is pregnant. She’s the woman I love. And if you care about me, why would you actively do something to hurt me? Anya thought she was doing the right thing, but something tells me you’re not being entirely honest with me.”

“What makes you say that?” Her cold tone of her voice gives her away.

“The kind of affection you feel toward me isn’t the selfless kind. It’s not your style, no matter how hard you try to act like it is. If you do have feelings me, you should at least be honest.”

Breonna stares at me for the longest second, then looks at the sheriff. “What time is it?”

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