Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estefania shakes her head. “She hasn’t been here. Let me get Romero.”
She disappears back inside, but I don’t hang around to talk to Romero. I start running back to my condo.
Ten minutes later I’m walking up the steps to the main lobby, huffing and out of breath. The doors open for me, letting a rush of AC splash against my face.
“Mr. Malone!” I look over at the doorman. “I’m sorry. I gave you the wrong information. The doorman on the south side of the building went home early because he had a family emergency.”
I’m just standing there in the middle of the lobby, trying to catch my breath and follow along with what he’s telling me. “OK.”
“So I called the doorman on duty earlier and he did see your friend leave this morning around five a.m.”
“He did? Did he see where she went?”
“He only said she went down the beach path, but we pulled the outside cameras and she went south once she made it to the beach. She was barefoot. He noticed that.”
“She cut her foot. She can’t wear shoes.”
“What happened to her fuckin’ foot?”
I turn towards the growling voice and find myself staring straight in the face of Maart. Former death-camp kid trainer.
I’d forgotten they were coming.
I look around and recognize Macks, the Ring reporter, and three of Maart’s fighters. I know two of them—Paulo and Maeko, but there’s a third there too, and him I have no clue about.
“And,” Maart adds, “why are you lookin’ for her? Did she run away or something?”
I look at the doorman. “Was she… running?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “He said she didn’t look distressed. Just said she was going for a walk.”
I run my fingers through my hair, trying to find a way forward, then decide there’s only one way forward and take off towards the side entrance.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
I ignore Maart. Just skip down a couple of stairs that take me to a hallway, follow that to the doorman, and go right past him to the outside.
Once there, I pause for a moment, looking around. Maybe she’s just… hanging out on the beach.
The door behind me comes crashing open and Maart is already yelling. “What the hell is going on? Where is Irina?”
I turn around, find him right behind me, and lean into his face. “Are you stupid or something? Obviously, I’m lookin’ for her. You heard what the man said. She went for a walk at five a.m. It’s noon. I’m getting’ a little worried, Maart.” I sneer his name. “So why don’t you fuck off and let me do my thing.”
“OK.” Macks’s calm voice butts right in between us, and there’s an arm there too. “Let’s take a breath and figure this out.” She looks at me, smiles. “Nice to see you again, Eason. Do you remember me?”
“You interviewed me for Ring of Fire. Of course I fuckin’ remember you.”
“I thought we had decided to calm down.” I turn to the voice and find Paulo staring at me. “If she’s missing, we’ll find her.”
“Ya didn’t find her the last time she went missing.” That’s a burn right there. Because all of them, even Macks, wince in unison. “So you’ll forgive me for not bein’ a believer.”
“Eason.”
“What?” I snap at the reporter.
“Should we split up? Is there somewhere she might go?”
“I only know of three places. Her condo. Not there. And the restaurant. Not there, either.”
“What’s the third place?” Maart has calmed down. His tone is even, at least.
“The beach.” I look at it now. “And we know she went there. It’s been nearly seven hours now. I can’t see her spending seven hours on the beach. And she’s not running. She can’t run. She hurt her foot, cut it on some glass two night ago. I put a bunch of stitches in. She can walk on it a little, but not for this long. And she left her phone upstairs. She doesn’t have it on her.”
“OK.” Macks let out a breath. “There’s six of us. We can split up. Do you have a picture of her?”
I shake my head, but then remember I do. I find the picture Davis sent me weeks ago. The one where she has a black eye. I hold it up and Maart shakes his head.
“Well, do you have a picture of her?” I snarl. “Because if not, then shut the fuck up.”
“Well, he seems nice.” That comes from Maeko. He sneers back at me when I narrow my eyes.
I glance at the third kid, a little bit younger than Paulo and Maeko. He’s massive. Tall and broad and in a much higher weight division than I am.
I text the photo to Mack’s number and then look at Maart. “Let’s split up then, and make our way down the beach. If we get to the pier and we haven’t found her, I could try one more place—a friend’s gym. But I’m a hundred percent certain she’s not there.”