Midnight Alpha (12 page)

So what if he did? The only damning things he would find were those photographs. There was no written connection between the two women. No evidence to show that the two of them had been half-sisters. The original letter perhaps, from Graham Grant’s solicitors, requesting that she attend the reading of his will. After that her dealings with those solicitors had all been by telephone.

She had nothing to hide. Absolutely nothing. Would own up to Angela being her sister if asked. Could the same innocence be claimed by Gregori and Nikolai in regard to Angela?

“Are you sure you do not require assistance undressing?”

Gaia had been so lost in thought she hadn’t moved since Gregori left the bedroom so abruptly, and it took her several seconds to realize he’d returned. “I… No. I’m fine, thank you.” Color warmed her cheeks at the thought of Gregori helping her undress. He had already helped take her clothes off enough for one evening.

He gave a terse inclination of his head before placing a pink garment down on top of the bed. “It was all I could find,” He shrugged as he straightened. “I will be downstairs for another half an hour or so if you need anything else.”

“I said I’ll be fine.”

“Then I wish you goodnight.” Gregori turned on his heel and left the bedroom without so much as a second glance in her direction.

Was he going to wait downstairs for Nikolai to return? So that the two men could then decide what, if anything, they were going to do about her?

“What do you think this means?” Gregori prompted Nikolai distractedly as he looked down at the photographs the other man had spread out across the top of his desk just seconds ago.

Photographs of a happily smiling and relaxed Gaia Miller standing beside a tall and beautiful blond woman who looked slightly familiar, and whom Nikolai had identified as being Amanda Grant. A young woman who had worked as a hostess at Utopia until her suicide from a drug overdose two months ago.

“It could mean nothing.” Nikolai shrugged. “But taking into account the drug problem we’ve had at Utopia the past few months it could also mean a lot. It’s obvious from these photographs that Gaia Miller knew Angela Grant, at least.”

“You think Angela Grant was mixed up in the supply of these drugs?” Gregori frowned.

“I think that considering she died from a drug overdose, it’s worth looking into.” Nikolai grimaced noncommittally.

“She died from using her own product?”

The other man shrugged. “I need to know more about what happened before I can give an opinion. I’ve put in a couple of calls to some people, but we may have to wait for answers as it’s the middle of the night to most of them. Gaia hasn’t mentioned the friendship?”

Gregori gave him a glowering look. “We haven’t exactly been having the sort of conversations where we discuss family and friends.” Which wasn’t quite true. He had talked of his sister and Dair to Gaia earlier.

Gregori hated not knowing what was going on, and at the moment he felt as if he was being attacked from all sides. After tonight he knew the threat from Ivan was very real, but he wasn’t sure what Gaia’s involvement was, or if she was involved at all.

These photographs of her with an employee of Utopia who had used drugs, and died from an overdose, were of interest, yes, but at the moment, without further information, he didn’t know what that interest was.

Unless Angela Grant
had
been supplying the drugs that were getting into his nightclub, and Gaia had now taken over that distribution?

He gave a shake of his head. “It doesn’t make any sense to assume that Gaia is somehow involved in any of this. This other woman died two months ago, and Gaia didn’t start working at Utopia until five days ago; the drug problem hasn’t stopped in that two-month interim.”

“Because Angela Grant has another accomplice, someone else who also works at or frequents Utopia.”

“Nikolai—”

“Damn-it-to-fucking-hell!” Nikolai swore loudly under his breath. “I’ve been looking at these two problems as separate entities. The drugs in Utopia and Ivan,” he explained at Gregori’s questioning glance. “But what if they’re not? What if Ivan is the supplier?”

“The operation here is far too small for Ivan to bother with,” Gregori dismissed. “He owns New York, you know that. This is happening in England and…localized.”

“Exactly,” Nikolai nodded. “That’s exactly what it is! And that’s why I’ve been getting absolutely nowhere trying to find out who’s involved. No one else in the city, including Jack Montgomery, has reported an increase in drug use in any of their establishments.”

“Localized,” Gregori agreed slowly

“Because Ivan’s only target is you.”

He stood up to pace the room, feeling too restless to remain seated any longer. “You really think the drugs and the shooting are connected?”

Nikolai gave a shrug. “We all know Ivan’s a vindictive bastard, but he has to be careful if he intends on retaliating for what happened with Sergei, otherwise the other families might get a little upset. Sergei was in the wrong. But he was still Ivan’s only son.”

“And the shooting tonight?”

“Perhaps Ivan’s getting a little tired of this waiting game, and you and Gaia out on your own tonight was just too tempting an opportunity to miss?” The other man’s eyes narrowed. “If Gaia is connected to Orlov, she could even have let him know, maybe by text, that you were out, unescorted— It’s a thought, Gregori,” he added hastily as Gregori’s scowl deepened.

“It may have escaped your notice, but Gaia was the one who was shot tonight,” he bit out icily.

Nikolai’s mouth thinned. “Well consider Angela Grant. She ended up dead, and she might also have been a seller, or involved at least.”

“You think she was murdered?”

“Maybe.”

“And Gaia?”

“Also expendable. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and got shot by mistake. You saw what happened, Gregori. You said Gaia was shocked afterwards—”

“She’d just been shot at!”

“Precisely, and maybe she was in shock because that wasn’t what was supposed to happen.”

“That sounds like an awful lot of ifs and maybes, Nikolai.” And every one of them put a nail in the coffin where trusting Gaia was concerned.

“I’m just playing devil’s advocate here.” The other man grimaced. “I’ll check with my contact, see what the police made of Angela Grant’s death.”

Gregori had heard enough on that subject for tonight. “Where’s Ivan now?”

“Vegas.”

He frowned. “Sergei was the one who liked Vegas, not Ivan.”

“Nevertheless, my information tells me that’s where he is.”

“Where, exactly?”

“If anyone knows that then they aren’t saying.”

“Why the hell not? Ivan has bodyguards, an entourage of toadies who follow him around. Who’s in charge in New York with him out of the picture?”

“Petrov.”

Gregori winced. “Petrov was always Sergei’s man.”

“But he stayed with Ivan when he had to disown Sergei, so maybe this is his reward for remaining loyal to the old man?”

Gregori was liking the sound of this less and less. “Is it worth you flying out to Vegas to see if you can talk to Ivan?”

“Not until I have confirmation that’s where he really is,” Nikolai grimaced. “It could just be a ruse to get me out of the country and leave you vulnerable.”
 

“You think maybe Ivan isn’t in Vegas at all…?”

“No one has seen him for weeks.” The other man sighed. “Hell, Ivan could even be in England, for all we know.”

Gregori sighed in frustration. The whole situation was a mess. They had no proof that Angela Grant had been connected to the drugs infiltrating Utopia. Just as they had no proof, other than those photographs, that Gaia was connected to Angela Grant. Or that either woman had any connection to Ivan.

But there was no denying Gaia had been acting suspiciously when Gregori found her in his office that first evening.

So many questions unanswered, and until they were, Gregori was left with the dilemma of not knowing quite what to do where Gaia was concerned.

Gaia felt totally disorientated when she was woken by a deep and throbbing pain in her cheek, much like the relentless throb of a toothache.

What—

Oh God yes, she remembered now. She’d been shot.

Her hand moved up to her cheek and touched where Gregori had fixed the gauze over her wound. Her gunshot wound. The gunshot wound Gregori had assured her was only a graze.

Gregori.

The throbbing of her cheek instantly took a backseat to unsettling thoughts of the dark and enigmatic man who had brought her back to his home after the shooting; the man who had made her a virtual prisoner. For her own safety, he claimed.

What about his safety? With her hidden away here and no longer a target, wouldn’t Gregori become the target himself? Or maybe his sister and her husband? Gregori seemed to think his brother-in-law was capable of taking care of the two of them, but what if—

Why was she worrying about something that was absolutely none of her business? She didn’t even know Katya and Dair. Or Gregori either, for that matter. Besides which, she could only concentrate on one thing at a time, and her more immediate worry was this unbearable pain in her cheek.

The fact that she was crying silent tears, and those tears were dripping onto the gauze and making it uncomfortably damp, certainly wasn’t helping.

Painkillers. She needed painkillers. And a hot cup of tea, the universal panacea.

And then she wanted to go home.

Nothing—life, death, being shot at—ever seemed quite so dark or scary in the comfort of your own home, with a cup of tea in your hand.

Except her home had been violated tonight: she had no doubts that Nikolai would have taken advantage of his visit there, and had now searched her apartment thoroughly.

She hated the very thought of Nikolai going through her personal things, and that hate had nothing to do with him possibly finding those photographs of herself and Angela. Her apartment was her personal space, her hard-won personal space, and she hated the idea of anyone being there that she hadn’t invited. She would certainly never have invited a man like Nikolai into her home.

This was so not helping, the extra tension being caused by her thoughts of Nikolai only making her cheek throb to the same rhythm as her rapidly beating heart.

She needed those painkillers
now
.

The bathroom. Most people kept medication in the bathroom cabinet, didn’t they?

She turned over slowly to switch on the bedside lamp. A glance at her watch told her it was only four o’clock in the morning, which meant she hadn’t been asleep for very long at all.

Getting out of bed was a feat in itself, walking to the bathroom another one. Only for her to then discover the bathroom cabinet was completely empty.

Because this was a guest bedroom suite: of course the bathroom cabinet was empty.

Even if she knew where Gregori’s bedroom and bathroom were, she certainly wasn’t going to go poking about looking in there.

Kitchen. She kept general medicines, cough syrup, flu remedies, and painkillers in the kitchen, and only personal medication like contraceptive pills in her bathroom cabinet.

Gaia looked down at the pink nightshirt Gregori had provided for her to sleep in, guessing that Katya Markovic could only have been in her teens when she wore it, or else she was just a very slim woman. It clung everywhere on Gaia, and left absolutely nothing to the imagination in regard to her plentiful curves. It also had a furry teddy bear motif on the front of it.

Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and at the moment all Gaia was really concerned with was locating the kitchen in this huge house. Correction: mansion. No doubt it had been the Markovic family home at one stage, but it now seemed rather big for just one man to rattle around in.

A lamp had been left on in the hallway, another at the top of the staircase, and another in the cavernous entrance hall below. No doubt in readiness for Gregori’s return later this morning.

Gaia realized once again what an impressive house this was, as she made her way carefully down the wide staircase. The last thing she wanted to happen was for her to fall and be a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs when Gregori returned.

It was rumored that Gregori had cleaned up a lot of his father’s ‘business’ interests even before Dimitri Markovic’s death, but even so, the grandeur of this house, with its antique furniture, plush carpets and original paintings on the walls, showed that whatever his business was, it was lucrative—

Headache. She needed to concentrate, to find something for her headache, and stop thinking about Gregori.
 

The first three doors she opened were of no help, the first a downstairs toilet, the next a cupboard, and then the library Gregori had mentioned earlier. The fourth door, thankfully, opened into the kitchen.

A cavernous kitchen she discovered after switching on the light over the huge table in the middle of the room. Three of the walls were mellow oak cupboards with warm cream stone surfaces, the third having a huge cooking stove. This also seemed to be providing the heat in the room, and thankfully prevented Gaia from shivering in her short, borrowed nightshirt.