Vero’s nails dug into my skin.
Andrei Borovkov.
I looked down at the tips of the white sneakers in the hole. These were his bodies. This was his mess Feliks had been hiding. And we were going to be next.
“Wh … what are you doing here?” Were there more bodies in the trunk of his car? Was he here to bury someone else?
“You don’t listen so well. Feliks told you he would be keeping a close eye on you. Your policeman—the one parked near your house … he was not such a good bodyguard.”
Officer Roddy … Andrei had been watching my house. “You followed us here?”
I felt his shrug in the small movement of his gun. “I was curious to see what you were up to. And now I know. We were all surprised when Harris Mickler disappeared so suddenly. When he hadn’t returned the safety deposit box key after making the usual deposits, Feliks was sure Harris had fled the country with his money.” The small key from Harris’s key ring … Patricia had taken it the day she’d met me in Panera. She must have used the money to escape with Aaron.
Andrei sucked in a thoughtful drag. “Me? I had my money on my wife. Irina never liked Patricia’s husband. She said he was a disgusting piece of filth who deserved to die.” I held my breath through a long pause as he blew smoke past my head. “Maybe I won’t bother telling Feliks what you were doing here. I don’t like losing bets.”
My breath rushed out of me as he lowered the gun. Was he going to let us go? Was he going to blackmail us to keep us quiet?
I didn’t dare move as Andrei’s legs appeared beside me. He propped a foot on the mound of dirt at the edge of the hole, smok ing as he peered down into it. A sinister smile curled his lip around the long ribbon he exhaled. “Looks like you’ve already done most of the work. That will make burying you much easier.”
Vero made a strangled sound and my stomach fell away. Andrei was going to kill us. Right here. Execution-style in the back of the head. I was going to fall into that hole on top of all those other bodies. On top of Harris Mickler. Nick’s boss would come with a warrant tomorrow and dig me up. My sister would have to ID my remains.
My head shook in silent protest. I’d had all I could take of Harris Mickler. There was no freaking way I was going in that grave without a fight.
Andrei took a last drag before flinging his cigarette butt in the hole, his shoe sending loose clumps of dirt cascading toward me as he turned away from it.
I stared down at my fist where it braced the ground. At the gritty soil dusting the top of my hand. I glanced up at Andrei through the blowing strands of hair that had come loose from my ponytail. The wind carried exhaust from his tailpipes over the hole. I watched as Andrei blew out the last of his smoke, angling his head so the breeze wouldn’t throw it back in his face.
I blew my first traffic stop when some punk dumped his ashtray in my face.
I eased my hand from Vero’s, sinking it into the soil. My fists closed around two dry handfuls of dirt, crushing them to a fine grit between my fingers. Andrei’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his head shaking as if he couldn’t believe his luck as he turned back to face us.
“I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s make this quick.”
I threw my hands up, tossing them high. Grit swirled in the wind and sprayed across his face. He cried out, swatting violently at his eyes. The light from the headlamps glinted off his gun as he fought to scrape away the dirt with both hands. I waited for him to drop it, prepared to take his weapon and run, but he only held it tighter, the gun thrashing aimlessly while he shouted and swore at us. I ducked as it fired, the muffled shot scattering dirt beside my knees.
A silencer. He was using a silencer. No one would hear the shots. No one would come to save us.
Heart pounding, I grabbed Vero’s hand, dragging her alongside me as I scurried for cover behind Ramón’s car.
Andrei hollered, shrieking in pain, his boots stomping wildly against the ground as he dug at his eyes. Another shot. Vero and I huddled close behind the bumper, our hands pressed to our mouths, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. Another bullet pinged close to the hood. With a yelp, we scrambled to the far side of the car and crouched behind the back wheel, clutching each other’s hands as Andrei flailed and screamed at us.
If we could make it into the car, maybe we could escape.
I reached over Vero for the passenger-door handle. Another shot rang out. I ducked, throwing my arms around Vero instead. A heavy thump came from the direction of the hole.