Page 23 of Insidious Threats
“No. We spoke to his wife. Gillian admitted that she doesn’t know where he is. She’s as frantic as we are, if not more.”
“Probably more,” Sasha said.
“Don’t be so sure,” Marcus retorted. “You have no idea how much money’s at stake for the firm if we can’t find him.”
There it was. In the end, it came down to money. It always did with these guys.
She gave a short laugh. “And what is it that you want from me, exactly?”
“You did something—said something—to make him quit. You must have. So the way we see it, this situation is your responsibility, Sasha,” Porter told her. “You need to find him and bring him back so he can clean up his mess.”
“Or what, John? Are you going to give me a bad performance review? Newsflash, I don’t work for you—any of you—and I haven’t in a very long time. Now, I’m going home. But I’ll give you one free piece of advice as a thank you for the ouzo. You brainiacs should hire a private investigator.”
She stood and snatched her sweater and Naya’s jacket from the coat hook.
“Wait,” Marcus said to her back.
She paused but didn’t turn around. “What?”
“It’s true that we came to you in part because we’re sure you were behind his sudden departure. But that’s not the only reason.”
She waited for a beat. Then, as they both knew it would, her curiosity won out, and she turned to face Kevin Marcus. “What’s the other reason?”
“His daughter asked us to. Eleanor thinks you’re the only one who can find him.”
Her gut tightened, and she sucked in a breath, but she kept her face impassive. “Good night, Kevin.”
She raced through the restaurant, which had mostly emptied of diners during her meeting with the Top Three. She paused at the bar to toss Naya her jacket.
“Did you settle the bill?”
She reached for her wallet, but Maisy waved her hand languidly.
“I took care of it, sugar. After all, Iama millionaire.” She giggled and raised her ouzo glass.
“You’ll be a millionaire tomorrow. Don’t spend it all tonight.”
In response, Maisy giggled some more.
“How much of that has she had?” Sasha asked her law partner.
Naya patted an empty stool. “Not too much. Yet. Come on, have a drink and tell us what the grim reaper brigade wanted. They looked like they’d been sucking on lemons when they walked over.”
“I can’t. I need to get home. I’ll fill you in tomorrow.” She gave them a close look. “You two better drink a lot of water before you go to bed.”
After a flurry of hugs, she left them to their digestifs, grabbed her coat from the cloakroom, and hurried out of Saffron before the Prescott & Talbot lawyers could catch up with her. She passed by the valet stand and was halfway through the parking lot before she remembered her promise to Connelly. Grumbling, she returned to the entrance and pulled out her phone to order a ride share.
She waited for the car service in the shadows, far enough away from the doors that Marcus, Porter, and DeAngeles breezed by and into their waiting Lincoln Town Car without noticing her. A few moments after their car pulled away, a white SUV pulled into the lot and idled in the spot designated for rideshares and taxis.
Her app dinged to let her know her car had arrived. She stowed her phone in her purse, walked over to the SUV, and opened the rear passenger side door.
“You Sasha?” the driver asked.
“That’s me.”
She hopped in and settled back against the seat.
13
