Lost(61)

I agreed with him.

“How do we find the Dutch traffickers?” Steph said. “They could be anywhere.”

I smiled. “We make them come to us.” I grabbed a backpack from inside my car and started walking toward the band shell in Bayfront Park.

I intended to let the cheap tracker and wide-open sky do some legwork for us.





CHAPTER 89





HANNA AND ALBERT brooded on a bench near Miami Dade College’s downtown campus. Hanna had just checked on Tasi, who was recovering from her injuries at a hotel in Little Havana. Earlier in the morning, they had left her lying on a king-size bed with ice bags on her face.

Hanna had never seen her brother hang his head before, but right now, his head was drooping toward the sidewalk.

Hanna thought about Josie and started to cry. Her brother put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight to him. He said, “We’ll get her back.”

“How? We need that backpack.”

“I have several plans ready. By the time I’m done with Billy and his friends, there won’t be many people left in Miami who speak Russian.”

Hanna shook her head. “I can’t risk Josie. We’re going to negotiate.” She stared hard at her brother and said, “Understand?”

Albert nodded.

Hanna thought about her own teenage years, about the abuse she took from her father. Albert would always step between the two of them. She didn’t know how many beatings her brother had taken for her, but it was more than she could ever pay back. And he was still willing to risk everything for her and her daughter.

This had all turned into a tremendous mess, and Hanna had no idea how to fix it. She decided that if she hadn’t found Magda and the bag by tonight, she would meet Billy the Russian in person and see what she could give him in exchange for her daughter. It was a sobering and terrifying prospect.

Hanna wondered what she could offer Rostoff instead of the diamonds. They would probably take Albert, just so they could exact revenge. She wasn’t going to sacrifice her brother. But she would sacrifice herself if need be.

She didn’t like the idea. She’d go back to work as a prostitute, as she’d done in her early twenties, to pay off her debt to the Russians. She’d do it happily if it meant Josie was safe.

Hanna considered all the selling points she could make during the negotiation. If the Russians took her as payment, they’d have an experienced woman who could handle herself in different situations. Plus the Russians would eliminate their competition in Amsterdam. The Russians were always looking for an edge in business. She could make the argument that this would give it to them.

Albert perked up on the bench next to her. He nudged her and held up his phone. “Look, look. We’re getting a clear signal.” He held the iPhone out so they could both look at the tiny map with a flashing blue dot that had appeared on the screen.

Hanna sat up straight and said, “Is that the tracker? Where’s the signal coming from?”

Albert said, “Close by.” He raised his eyes and looked across the street, then north toward the American Airlines Arena. “She’s real close. Maybe over in that park.”

He stood up and started moving in that direction, holding the phone out in front of him.

For the first time in a couple of days, Hanna felt real hope.





CHAPTER 90





I SAT ALONE at a picnic table just in front of the park’s concert band shell, Biscayne Bay behind me. Marie waited in my car because this was not the right time to have her in public and meeting people. I’d been careful to place my team in the right spots. I kept up a calm demeanor, but I had no illusions about what could go wrong. It wasn’t just my safety—the whole team could be at risk. If the Russians showed up, we’d probably be outnumbered and outgunned.

A few cars rolled along Biscayne Boulevard. It was the perfect place to sit and watch for surprises. The red backpack sat on the table with nothing blocking the signal from the tracker. My pistol sat in my lap under the table, though I hoped it didn’t come down to fast gunplay. I wanted to be ready just in case. This was all my plan, from start to finish. No one else could be blamed if it went wrong. That was exactly how I wanted it.

It was a beautiful Miami afternoon with a breeze off the ocean. The sun was starting to dip behind some of the taller buildings, and I thought I could see some buzzards roosting on the state building downtown. It was one of the more famous quirks of the Magic City; no one had ever explained why the buzzards preferred that building.

I felt a trickle of sweat run down my back. It was nerves, I knew. A good cop doesn’t ignore little signs like perspiration. I took a breath and thought about how this might play out.

I’d never dealt with Dutch criminals before, but from what I’d heard about Albert Greete, he was a badass through and through. In Miami, I could usually spot badasses. They weren’t the guys in muscle shirts with big biceps; those were the showy loudmouths. The truly dangerous people in Miami were quiet and watched everything. They noticed when other people were nervous or tried to signal partners. The quiet, dangerous people never gave you a second chance.

If this Dutch dude Albert and his sister, Hanna, were like that, I had plenty to worry about. And that’s why I had kept Marie out of sight.

Then I spotted them. They weren’t hiding their approach. A man and a woman in their thirties walking across the parking lot, weaving between the cars.