Page 12 of In Her Blood
“Good,” Kat said. “Because I just registered us for that annual designer sale in Fort Wayne. The open days are next weekend, so prepare yourself for a road trip and bring extraluggage. We are coming home with thousands of dollars’ worth of goods or bust!”
Evelina burst into a hard, jarring laugh. “You’re insane. You registeredbothof us?”
“You’re damn right I did. You need some good old-fashioned retail therapy.”
Composing herself, Evelina dropped against the backrest of the chaise. “Fort Wayne’s, like, three hours from here. That’s going to be a crazy long day.” Not that they hadn’t done it before. That time, they’d just done it with more planning, and tickets.
Kat’s responding tone assured Evelina she was rolling her eyes. “Give me some credit, babe. I also booked us hotel accommodations so we can rest our achy feet after. I even remembered poor, out-of-place Otto and got adjoining rooms to appease his paranoia.”
Evelina couldn’t help her grin as she rolled to the side enough to look his way. He was watching her, of course, brow faintly furrowed and suspicion darkening his blue eyes. Into the phone, she said, “You really did think of everything. How much do I owe you?”
“It’s a gift,” Kat replied. “I might be able to sympathize with some of the emotions you’re drowning in right now, but the weight this shit’s dropped on your shoulders is beyond my real understanding. This is the only kind of thing I can do for you. If you’ll let me.” She said it matter-of-factly, but there was a whisper of vulnerability beneath the words, too.
It was that vulnerability that drove the spike of guilt deeper into Evelina’s heart. She knew Kat wasn’t unfamiliar with loss.So few of them were. Evelina closed her eyes, breathed in again, and pushed aside her pride. “Thank you, Kat. Not just for this ridiculous weekend you’re planning, but for being a good friend. I’m sorry I haven’t been lately.”
“You’re welcome,” Kat replied, “but you can keep your apologies.” She paused, just for a second. “I’ve heard rumor that you decided to challenge Pyotr….”
Evelina slumped once more against the chaise. “It’smybirthright. Technically, he’s the one challenging me. I’m just planting my feet.” She sighed. “It’s not going to be pretty, though. I’m sure you can imagine.”
Kat hummed. “I don’t see it from the same angle as you,” she said, “but I do hear things—whispers and half-conversations—from some of the men who wander through the bar.”
Evelina tapped the fingers of her free hand over the bottom edge of her laptop, her mind whirling. “I hate to ask you this,” she began carefully, “but could you … just keep your ears open, while you’re working? Alcohol loosens lips, and it might really help me to know what some of the lower-ranks are thinking and talking about when they’re off-site.”
Kat worked as a bartender at a Nikolaev-owned dive bar halfway across town. It was far enough from the main house that it would be easy for an inebriated mind to not worry about prying eyes or eavesdroppers, despite that the bar’s ownership wasn’t much of a secret. Like so many of their scattered holdings, it served as a way to both disguise and bolster the family business. Kat’s particular location was often used for shady meetings, off-the-record conversations, and supplydrops. That was why every single member of the staff was sworn Nikolaev.
A strange giddiness lifted Kat’s voice when she spoke again. “You want me to spy for you?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“I suppose I can do that, boss lady.”
Evelina snorted. “Katenka, don’t you start. I’m going to be pakhan, but I’ll still be your friend.”
Kat laughed. “Good to know, good to know. If I don’t see you before, I’m picking you up Friday so we can get a good place in line for Saturday morning’s shopping, deal? We’ll do dinner on the road somewhere.” She laughed again. “Somewhere totally open and normie, so we can watch Otto twitch.”
“I can’t wait,” Evelina said, laughing quietly as she disconnected. Silently, she counted down from five.
“Why are we going to Fort Wayne?”
Like clockwork.Evelina returned her phone to the coffee table and glanced over at Otto just for a beat before resettling. “Retail therapy, apparently. It’s going to be a long, horrible weekend for you.”
Otto grunted.
Evelina reopened her browser, impulsively adjusting her previously intended search. “This could work out, though.”
“Impossible.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t trust any local PIs not to rat me out, and we’ve never been completely sure the Morozovs are off the board, so there’s also that concern.” Her chest tightened as the name fell from her lips, necessary or not. Her father had been confident they’d finally eliminated their closest rivals, butshe’d never felt that degree of certainty. She likely never would. She said none of that. “Fort Wayne’s far enough away, out of state, that it’s beyond our reach. Beyond any reach our nearest competitors might claim. So, if I can find a half-decent PI, I can slip away before our trip is done and pay whoever it is an obscene amount of money to dig up the information I can’t find myself.”
Otto pushed up from the chair he’d claimed and moved closer, dropping into a crouch at her shoulder. “Not your worst idea.”
Evelina tossed him a scowl before refocusing on her screen. “The thing is … I don’t want to take Kat with me when I do that.” She rubbed at her aching chest. “I know that kinda makes me a shittier friend, but this is too personal and too up in the air and I just—”
“You don’t have to defend yourself to me, Lina.” Otto curled his fingers over her shoulder in a feather-light touch. “We’ll find an opportunity to ditch her for a little while and make this happen.”
Evelina bit her lip for a moment, glanced his way again, and nodded. Even if it made her a bad friend, this just wasn’t something she was ready to share. Outside of Otto.
Otto pushed the door to the old house shut behind him and swept his gaze from left to right. He wasn’t surprised at how little had changed since he’d last been there. The house had become a time capsule in the years since his mother’s passing. Otto still couldn’t decide if he respected his adoptive father’s unwillingness to box up her memory or resented it.
