“We had shit luck when it came to parents.” Sejal inhaled hard, then spoke fast. “Mira, run, I’ll be—”
Her rushed words were cut off with a sinister slap. Mira jumped, her heart rising in her throat. She may not have spoken to her sister in years, but she didn’t want her hurt. “Stop that. Right this minute.”
The mystery man came back. “We’re taking care of your sister for now, Mira, but we can’t guarantee that’ll last.”
“I have never seen that necklace.” Of all the things she’d expected her father to have taken, a wildly expensive piece of jewelry was pretty low on the list. Social Security numbers, a widow’s pension, pure cash, sure.
“We were tipped off about Vassar’s daughter knowing where my property is. Since the daughter I have doesn’t know anything, that must mean you.”
Had he hurt Sejal badly to be so certain that she didn’t know anything?
“Let’s make this easy, Mira. You give me the necklace, and I’ll give you back your sister. And I’ll ensure your and your boyfriend’s continued safety.” The stranger paused. “He’s a nice boy, this Naveen, from a nice family.”
Unlike you. Jay had been quite happy to spell that out for her today. Dear lord, had that only been today?
“His mother’s rich. He’s had some troubles, so I can’t imagine he’s the favored child, but I considered ransoming him, you know, to recoup my losses.”
Mira swallowed. No, no, no.
Panic had filled her the second she’d woken up in that shack and met Naveen’s dazed eyes, and now it bloomed anew. “Leave him and his family out of this. He truly knows nothing.”
“Your father’s lawyer knows nothing? My man says he gave the opposite impression.”
Naveen cleared his throat and finally spoke to the man. “I was Mira’s aunt’s lawyer. I thought her father was long dead.”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Mira repeated.
“I don’t believe you.”
“If my dad stole something from you,” she said slowly, “then why not go to the police?”
“I like to settle things my way.”
No. That was bullshit. There was a reason the man couldn’t go to the cops.
Naveen was clearly thinking the same thing. “Or because you’d be walking in with unclean hands.”
“I’m not scared of the police. I have eyes and ears in every department in Nevada and California.” He paused. “In case you were thinking of heading to a station.”
Fuck. Though she’d already guessed as much, with that FBI badge.
“They won’t help you. Mira, if you try to get help from anyone, your sister dies. And then we’ll get started on Naveen’s family. You don’t want to risk my anger. Turn around, come back, and we will calmly discuss this.”
“Or what?” Naveen asked.
“We’ll find you.” She’d never thought it possible for a computer-generated voice to sound so ominous. “And then you’re going to be very sorry you didn’t cooperate.”
Naveen took the radio from her hand and drove one-handed. “Call us silly, but we’re not going back to a shack in the middle of nowhere to have a nice chat.”
“Then I will have to come to you. See you soon, children.” The line turned to static.
The silence was pregnant with fear and anxiety. Or maybe that was just her, projecting her fear and anxiety onto him.
“We can’t go to the police,” she whispered.
“He could be lying.”
“We know he has federal agents in his pocket. You think he doesn’t have corrupt cops on his payroll?” She ran the back of her hand over her dry lips. What she wouldn’t give for a nice, cold water right now.
The car beeped, bringing their attention to the dashboard. Naveen cursed. “Low gas.”
Because of course they couldn’t have been lucky enough to steal a car with a full tank. “If you keep driving, there should be an exit in the next twenty miles. I think.” She hoped.
“You grew up here, right? Or was that a lie too?”
She ignored the dig. “In Las Vegas. I don’t know this area as well.”
They sat in silence for a while as he kept driving. She breathed a sigh of relief when lights emerged on the road in front of them, piercing the darkness like an oasis. Only a couple of buildings, but it looked like a lifeline. Or it would have, if they hadn’t just been threatened out of getting help.
She searched the darkness. “I don’t see a gas station here. And we have no money.”
He took the exit anyway. “It’s better to be in a public place than to end up stuck on the side of the road.”
Public place was a generous description for the parking lot he turned into. The motel’s neon sign flashed VACANCY. Next to the inn was a saloon and a diner. Naveen parked in front of the diner. “Let’s go inside,” he said quietly. “We need a moment to regroup, and there’s safety in numbers.”
“The saloon looks busier.”
“A shoot-out in a saloon seems a little too on the nose, doesn’t it?”
She tried not to shudder. Before leaving the car, she gently tucked the gun she’d fired under the passenger seat.
You fired a gun. You shot someone.
In the bottle, on the shelf, to be dealt with later.
Save for an old man sitting at the counter, the diner was fairly deserted. They grabbed the booth farthest from the door, where they’d be out of view of the wide windows. Mira rubbed her eyes, probably smearing her eye makeup more than it already was.
It didn’t matter what she looked like any longer. All of the carefully pressed clothes hanging in her closet, her tidy, contained hair, her perfectly logical job, her well-curated and professional online footprint, her decorated apartment, her 401(k) . . . none of that could rescue her from this situation.
A waitress in a stained garish pink uniform came to their table. Her name-tag said GLADYS. She pointed at Mira’s feet in lieu of a greeting. “No shoes, no service.” Her voice was gravelly, like she’d smoked a pack a day since infancy.
Dear lord. Mira hadn’t even realized that she wasn’t wearing shoes. Her sensible low black heels must have gotten kicked off at some point.
Oh, gross. She lifted her feet delicately so they hovered over the floor. If she thought too hard about what she’d walked on since she’d left the shack, she might throw up.
Naveen pointed at the wall above the counter, where the diner’s logo was plastered on towels and baseball caps for sale. Mira doubted anyone had bought them in a while. “Can we get a pair of flip-flops?”
“Sure. Large?”
Mira nodded.
Naveen patted his pockets absentmindedly, took out the agent’s wallet, and riffled through it. “Do you take credit cards?” Naveen asked.
Mira thought that was an optimistic question to ask of a run-down diner in the middle of the desert, but the waitress shrugged, her styled blue hair holding firm in its helmet cut. “Of course. And Apple Pay, Venmo.” She jerked her head toward the back. “We got a crypto ATM, too, if you need that.”
This surreal experience took on a new dimension, but she almost welcomed this one, with its gloss of normalcy. “Great,” Mira said. “I’ll have a tea, please. Whatever kind you have.”