“I don’t know where she is,” I answer carefully.
But I guess I don’t sound convincing. In a flash, his face goes from concerned to angry. “You’re lying. You know where she’s run off to. You better tell me. Tell me now.”
“Run off to,” I repeat with all the alarm bells going off in my head. “I thought you were afraid she disappeared.”
Tommy glares at me.
And I’m so scared. For both Gina and myself. But I stand my ground, refusing to back down.
Our standoff is interrupted by the loud creak of my screen door once again opening.
Both Tommy and I look up to see Cheslav coming through my front door.
My chest fills with a strange relief at the sight of him, tall and towering in a blazer and jeans. At least he’s a known quantity, and unlike Tommy, he’s wearing a mask.
“What is going on here?” he asks, looking between Tommy and me.
And even though he’s wearing a mask, I can tell he’s not happy. Not happy at all.
“Chess? Chess Rustanov! Whoa, I can’t believe you’re here!”
Tommy recognizes Cheslav immediately, even with the mask.
Cheslav tilts his head at Tommy. “You are hockey fan?”
“Boston born and bred!” Tommy answers with pride in his voice. “I was at Game One of the series when you and Keane won the Stanley Cup.”
Cheslav nods. “That was good series.”
Then he says to me, “I played for the Boston Hawks at beginning of my career.”
“Yeah, shame about Keane losing his leg. Team wasn’t the same after you lost him, huh?”
“No, it wasn’t,” Cheslav agrees, his tone casual. But then his voice hardens as he says, “You will leave now.”
The easy going smile slithers off Tommy’s face. “Wait a minute. I have a few more questions. You see, my girl is missing, and I think Billie here might know something about that.”
Cheslav glances at me then returns his cold green eyes to Tommy. “You have no mask, and I suspect no warrant. You can come back when you have both.”
Now it’s Tommy’s and Cheslav’s stare down.
And Tommy seems a lot more intimidated by Cheslav than he was by me.
After a few tense moments, Tommy reaches for his shirt pocket. “Let me just give you my card,” he starts to say.
“Do you want his card, Billie?” Cheslav asks without looking away from their stare down.
“No,” I answer, my voice a little stronger now than it was when it was just me facing down Tommy.
“She does not want your card,” Cheslav says to Tommy. “My employee is standing right outside. You can hand him your little card if you really must give it to someone.”
Tommy’s hand wilts away from his pocket.
Another tense moment…then he leaves without another word.
I let out a sigh of relief as he goes through the screen door.
But then instead of following him out, Cheslav goes to the door and closes it.
I swallow.
Yes, Tommy is gone.
But now I have to deal with Cheslav.
“What was that about?” Cheslav demands. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I answer.
Funny, I didn’t notice how messy my front room was until right this moment. I pick up the pizza box and empty cartons of Jeni’s Gooey Butter Cake ice cream. “What—what are you doing here?”
Cheslav isn’t a vampire—I’m almost sure about that. But the intense way he’s looking at me makes me feel like I’ve invited one into my home. “I came to see you, Billie.”
“Okay, hold on for a sec. I’ll be right back,” I say as I take the mess through the swinging door into the kitchen.
At least the door is supposed to swing. Cheslav catches it before it can rotate close and follows me into the kitchen like I didn’t ask him to wait for me in the front room.
Unfortunately, because I’m a hopeless southerner, I have to ask, “Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?”
Cheslav looks around my condo’s practical kitchen with a sneer. The kitchen isn’t tiny. It was the main selling point when I bought this place. But he takes up so much space, it suddenly seems small. I suddenly seem small. Everything I have suddenly seems small.
“Coffee,” he eventually answers. “Three sugars. No milk.”
I go over to my Keurig and grab a K-cup of the strongest brew I have in the machine.
“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” he asks behind me. “I can have Vlad—”
“I’m fine with cereal,” I answer before he can offer up his manservant again. “And I’m sure Vlad has better things to do than running around getting me food.”
“I assure you; he does not,” Cheslav answers.
I’m too tired and freaked out by Tommy’s visit to argue with him. So I just push the button on the coffee maker and think about how crazy it is to have him here in my condo.
The coffee is done before I want it to be. I set that cup aside and grab a Starbucks Blonde roast.