“I need your help, Mr. Austin.”
“I can assure you that my daughter was being polite when she extended that offer to you, Mrs. Suvorov.”
Disappointment swells inside me. But it hardly deters me. “I’m sure you will love the relief this will give you, Mr. Austin. It’s a simple request.”
“Relief?”
“Willow told me she would talk to you about getting in touch with a DA. Marion Berkowitz. I presume you know who I’m talking about?”
He takes a breath and then exhales loudly. “I do.”
“Can you get me in touch with him?”
“I don’t want anything to do with whatever you’re planning, Liya. Leave my daughter and me out of it.”
I shake my head. “I want to protect your daughter as much as you do, Mr. Austin. And one way to do that is to take down the men who kidnapped her.” I pause for effect. “You want justice, don’t you, Mr. Austin?”
The silence that stretches over the phone feels like a million years. I hold my breath for his response, my eyes roaming the room repeatedly.
Finally, he inhales sharply. “Yes, I want justice. I want nothing more than for those fuckers to burn.”
“As do I, Mr. Austin. That puts us on the same team.”
“How dare you insinuate that, you criminal bitch?”
I shrug off his words.They’re just words.“Please. Give Mr. Berkowitz a call. Tell him I have information that could not only put those kidnappers away but could take down an entire criminal enterprise deeply embedded within the NYPD itself.”
“That’s a heaping tray of information if true, Liya.”
“Trust me, Mr. Austin. It’s true.”
He grumbles something under his breath, and then he says, “Fine. I’ll make a call. But know this: we’re not on the same team. This isn’t an alliance with one of your criminal friends. And don’t you even dare think that we’re partners. We simply have mutual interests. Understand?”
“Of course, Mr. Austin. Thank you.”
Click.
I stare at the phone screen for a while. The first step is in motion. But what’s next?
Laughter bubbles from the den. I drift toward the door and peer into the hallway, checking to make sure I still have the second floor to myself. It sounds like everyone is in the den.
I shut the door, lock it, and drift toward the desk, reluctantly sitting down. My thighs ache. My back screams. Everything hurts.
But I can’t stop moving. I’ve got steam still. I need to push ahead.
I stare at my stomach and slip my hand over my gut. “I’m sorry, little one. I’m going to have to do some things that aren’t exactly…nice.”
I sigh.
“I’m sure your father will understand,” I whisper. “But he’s not going to like it right now.” I huff and shake my head. “Actually, he’s never going to like it. But he’ll learn to deal with it because it’s the only way to take Cardona down. The only way to keep you safe.”
My thumb floats over my navel and then back down. It feels good to talk to my baby. As strange as it sounds, it feels like my baby is helping me make plans.
Or maybe I’ve just finally lost it. Who knows?
“I can’t make Cardona look crazy to the DA,” I reason. “Criminals admire that kind of thing if you can believe it.” I roll my eyes. “They’re all psychotic.”
Takes one to know one.