Half Empty (First Wives, #2)(82)

Reed spoke to her on a secure line.

“They were lovers, from what I can tell. She lived in Germany. He would visit her when he was there.”

“She didn’t look old enough to acquire a taste for a monster like him.”

“He had money, and she was just short of a hooker.”

“What do you mean?”

“She had a prior of burglary while she was servicing a man.”

“Servicing?” Trina winced.

“Prostitution isn’t as frowned upon in other parts of the world as it is here. Have you been to Amsterdam?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so you know. Jacking the john for his wallet is a bigger deal. Natasha was pretty enough to avoid the streets, but she liked money. I can only assume Ruslan paid her well enough to keep her as a mistress.”

There wasn’t enough money in the world.

“Did her death go unnoticed?”

“Virtually. But then, Ruslan was a mist in her bedroom that faded when the sun came up. The only person willing to part with information was a friend in the same field as Natasha that still lived in the same town.”

“How on earth did you find her?”

“We have boots on the ground where Natasha lived. With a picture of the woman and a wad of euros, people talk. Our source had a picture of Natasha and herself back when they were both working on their backs. Natasha’s friend gave up the profession after Natasha’s death. We dug a little deeper and found the prior in the database and connected the dots. Miss Budanov was found dead on the rocks off a cliff. It was labeled a suicide.”

Fedor’s image flashed in Trina’s head. “That sounds all too familiar.”

“We thought so, too. One more thing.”

“I’m listening.”

“Natasha had a child.”

The blood fell from Trina’s face. “Ruslan’s?”

“We’re not sure. Locating her is proving more difficult than finding the mom.”

“A girl?”

“That’s what our source told us.”

“Fedor had a sister?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Natasha wasn’t an exclusive woman. We would need a paternity test to prove it. With Fedor dead and Ruslan unavailable to swab, we may never know. But we are looking. The question really needs to be, Did Alice know about the child? Did Fedor? Sasha said she found the papers in Fedor’s office, but did she find all of them? Or did Alice give them to her?”

“Why don’t you just ask her? Doesn’t Sasha contact you?”

“Whenever she’s damn good and ready, she will. Until then, I’m out of luck.”

Trina hung her head, gripped the phone. “Let me get this straight. You can find a woman who is what, dead twenty years?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five years,” Trina continued. “But Stealth Woman in a black leotard remains elusive?”

“Yup. Pretty much.” Reed held no guilt in the tone of his voice.

“Should I be impressed?”

“Hell yeah. I am. So is Neil, and you know that man never cracks a smile.”

Neil never talked, let alone smiled.

“What about the box in Arizona?”

“Empty.”

“Who is it registered to?”

Reed started laughing. “Buddy Nash.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Buddy Nash. Move the name around, take away a few letters . . . sounds a whole lot like Natasha Budanov, doesn’t it?”

Trina squeezed the bridge of her nose. “You know, I really wish I had known Alice longer.”

“I can do you one better. I wish I had known her at all.”



Following Ruslan in Mexico City was a hell of a lot easier than in a graveyard in Texas. With her dark hair, dark eyes, and the ability to speak the language, she fooled the locals. She added a fake mole to her cheek and made sure it matched the one on the bogus passport she carried, and waltzed around in big sunglasses and red-hot lipstick on her lips.

She lost Ruslan inside the hotel but followed him with her bug on his phone. She was making herself comfortable in the lobby when Zakhar walked past her and out the doors of the four-star establishment.

Zakhar was on a mission.

Instead of holding back, Sasha followed.

He stayed on foot, walking through the city and around the backs of buildings that had seen better days. At one point Sasha reached into her bag, swapped out her sunglasses, and tossed on a hat. A second glance behind him and Zakhar wouldn’t be any wiser to her presence.

He made his way down an alley that would have proved she was following him had she trailed behind. So she walked by and then crossed the street. He ducked into what looked like a building where she could find a replacement passport and the people associated with the trade.

She waited for thirty minutes, all the while keeping an eye on the app showing Ruslan’s location. He hadn’t moved.

When the door opened to the alley, Zakhar walked out with two extra men.

They were big.

Recruits, she immediately thought. Ruslan was hiring help.

She’d seen this before.

Zakhar walked them to the center of the city and into a store that specialized in big and tall suits.

For a moment, Sasha’s thoughts flashed back two years.