Moving Target (Target #3)(9)

My heart nearly stops beating at the thought.

I pour another glass and toast the woman who’s never left me, in my soul, anyway.

“Za zda-ró-vye.” To your health, Chloe Riggs.

Glancing at my phone screen, I nearly spit out my vodka. It’s from my mentor.

He needs a last transport.

Konstantin: Meeting tomorrow at the café? Noon.

There is only one café in town open during lunch hours.

Me: Yes.

Konstantin: I will be unable to attend. Sending Leonid.

I laugh at that. Leonid never enjoyed being an errand boy. He thought himself too important. Even when he approached me about transporting that woman, it was for his benefit, not another member of the family.

Me: Hope his knee has improved.

Konstantin: I would not mention it if I were you.

Me: Until tomorrow.



The next afternoon, I head into the village at precisely eleven forty-five. It’s only a five-minute walk, but I want to be there first. While I trust my mentor, I do not trust Leonid.

Usually when I have a meeting, I dress for the occasion in a suit, but around here, it would seem strange and I would be out of place. The last thing I want to do is call more attention to myself.

When I arrive, Leonid is nowhere to be found, so I pick a table in the back and sit with my chair against a rough stone wall. The server, Annabella brings me my usual, a glass of limoncello. She’s all of sixteen and is Donatella’s niece.

“I’m meeting someone for lunch,” I say, and her eyes doe-colored eyes widen.

“Aunt Donatella?”

“Ah, no. An old friend.” I glance at my watch. “He will be here shortly.”

She smiles at my clarification, her freckled face lighting up. “I’ll come back, then.”

“No need. I’m here. Water, please.” At least Leonid has manners. His cold, black eyes regard me as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “Our reunion will not be long enough to enjoy lunch, I’m afraid.”

Annabella nods. “I’ll bring bread and oil, just in case.”

“Thank you.”

Leonid’s gaze runs over her. As soon as she’s out of earshot, I clear my throat. “Too young.”

“She has tits and a woman’s ass.”

“She would be missed.”

“Shame. I have clients who would be interested in… meeting her.”

If I could shoot him between the eyes, I would, but out in the open like this and without orders, I cannot.

“Give me the details and be on your way,” I order, switching to Russian.

“So impatient.”

“Only for you to leave.”

“There is a package. Very important to Konstantin.” He leans closer, lowering his voice. “You are to drive to Lyon, to the Bank of Lyon. I will meet you there at nine in the morning. Then you will take the package to Amsterdam, to the Van Gogh Museum, straightaway, so there is no confusion. Please feel free to stop for gas and food at your leisure, but the time frame is twenty-four hours.”

“I am retired.”

“This is a favor for an old friend, your mentor, Dima, asking for you and only you.”

I can’t say no to Konstantin. If it were anyone else… “The address?” I finally ask.

As he tells me, I commit it to memory. There is no need to leave a paper trail-physical or digital.

“Weight and size?”

“Small enough to fit in the trunk of your car. About fifty-five kilos.”

I eye him. The weight is enough for a human, but it’s also enough for a painting. Or a large bag of treasures from the Forbidden City. “I want half now. Half upon delivery.”

“Da.” Pulling a thick, white envelope out of his pocket, he slides it across the table. “One last request.”

“And that is?”

“Don’t look in the trunk.”

My jaw works. “I haven’t stayed alive this long by looking or asking about things that are of no concern to me. Besides, I don’t load.”

He strokes his jaw. “Very good, Dima.”

Just as Annabella returns, he stands. “See you tomorrow, old friend.”

Annabella looks at Leonid’s retreating form. “He seems nice. Maybe you can get him to move here. Not many single men in our village.”

The thought of Leonid anywhere near this paradise again is off-putting. And dangerous as well.

Instead of sharing what I know of the asshole, I smile and say, “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

Then I have Annabella bring me my usual as I contemplate what Konstantin could possibly need me in particular to transport, and why it has to be me.





5





Chloe

I haven’t seen the sun in two days, but they’ve kept me hydrated, given me all the food I’ve asked for… and pumped me so full of some kind of drug that I’m barely walking on my own.

Because I’m floating. Floating like a flower in a stream. I giggle and start signing Islands in the Stream. My mom loved that song. I think she really thought Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers were a couple.

Two men flank my side, every so often catching my arm and helping me to my feet.

Honestly, they’re the nicest kidnappers I’ve ever met, and I tell them as much.