Devil's Lair (Molotov Obsession #1) - Anna Zaires Page 0,53

Not when I’m finally safe and have a computer on which I can do research at my leisure. For weeks, I’ve lurched from one crisis to another, all my energy focused on survival, on escape, but things are different now. I have a full belly, a safe place to rest my head, and—if I can only get that Wi-Fi password—an internet-connected laptop. No more sneaking into a library in some small town to huddle over their slow, ancient desktops while looking over my shoulder every minute; no more dashing off hastily composed emails before running to my car.

Here, in the privacy of my room, I can take my time and look for evidence to back up my claims, for some kind of proof to take to the police.

I can try to solve the mystery of Mom’s murder and turn the tables on her killers, make them be the ones who have to run.

29

Chloe

I don’t know which room is Alina’s, but it has to be close to mine for her to have heard me both nights. Holding the laptop against my chest, I knock on the door closest to my bedroom, and when I don’t get an answer, I move on to the next one.

Still no luck.

I try three more bedroom doors, plus Nikolai’s office, with the same lack of results. The only room that’s left is Slava’s, and since all is quiet there, he must already be asleep.

Suppressing my frustration, I go downstairs. I’m pretty sure Lyudmila and Pavel’s room is near the laundry; I heard their voices coming from there when I was taking my clothes out of the dryer yesterday. Hopefully, Lyudmila hasn’t gone to bed yet, and can either provide the password or locate Alina for me.

Nobody answers that knock either—nor is Lyudmila in the kitchen or any of the other common areas downstairs. I’m about to give up and go back to my room when a distant peal of laughter reaches my ears.

It’s coming from outside.

Finally.

Leaving the laptop on a coffee table in the living room, I hurry to the front door and step out into the cool, misty darkness. It’s no longer raining, but the air still holds a damp chill, with thick clouds blocking all hint of moonlight. If not for the light spilling from the windows and the solar path lights lining each side of the driveway, it would be too dark to see. As is, it’s still more than a little creepy, and I wrap my arms around myself to stop from shivering as I walk toward the back of the house, following the sound of voices.

I find Alina and Lyudmila sitting on a pair of boulders near the edge of the cliff, a small fire crackling merrily in front of them. They’re laughing and talking in Russian—and, I realize as I get closer, sharing a joint.

The grassy smell of pot is unmistakable.

At my approach, they fall silent, Lyudmila regarding me with open dismay and Alina wearing her usual enigmatic expression. Taking a deep drag, Nikolai’s sister slowly blows out the smoke and holds out the joint to me. “Want some?”

I hesitate before gingerly taking it from her. “Sure, thanks.” I’m no stranger to pot, having smoked more than my fair share my freshman year of college, but it’s been a while since I’ve had any.

It used to help me relax, though, and I could use that tonight.

I sit on a boulder next to Alina and inhale a lungful of smoke, enjoying the acrid, grassy taste, then pass the joint to wary-looking Lyudmila. Alina murmurs something to her in Russian, and the other woman visibly relaxes. Taking a drag, she passes the joint to Alina, who takes a drag and passes it to me, and we go like that in a circle, smoking in companionable silence until only a small, useless stub remains.

“I told her you won’t rat us out to my brother.” Alina drops the stub into the fire and watches the resulting explosion of sparks. “Or her husband.”

“They don’t like pot?” My voice is raspy and mellow, my mind pleasantly fuzzy. Even the prospect of upsetting my employer doesn’t faze me right now, though I know it should. Besides, Alina is technically my employer too, and she offered me the joint, so I’m not at fault. Or am I? Maybe only Nikolai is my employer, after all?

It’s hard to think straight.

“Nikolai can be… uptight about certain things. And Pavel doesn’t keep secrets from him.” Alina nudges a glowing ember with