Page 52 of The Wrong Monster

It also worries me.

She’s sleeping too little and eating less. Working exactly the way I do. I’ve met no one who matches that energy.

Unfortunately, I haven’t had the luxury of joining her.

Every spare hour has belonged to Kevin and what might have happened to him. Ariadna reported three separate sightings of Semiyon over the past forty-eight hours. Main Street, Mirror Lake, and just outside Saranac Lake. Too close to be a coincidence, playing at the edges of my territory.

Each report dissolves before my men arrive.

If Semiyon is moving this confidently, then he’s either extraordinarily brave, or he knows something I don’t.

I consider calling Yuri. The thought lasts all of three seconds. It would be the worst mistake I could make.

As far as Yuri knows, Kevin is just another street kid floating around the edges of Lake Placid. A forgettable errand boy. Someone easily unnoticeable.

Exactly where I want him.

The moment I start asking questions, that changes. Yuri would begin asking his own: Why does Vasily Borisov suddenly care whether a fifteen-year-old is alive? Why that boy?

Kevin has survived this long because everyone underestimates him. And I’ve never once picked up the phone for Yuri, not since he walked away. I’m not about to undo years of careful work with one desperate call.

No. If Kevin is still free, I will only endanger him. If he’s already been taken. The less Yuri knows about his value, the better Kevin’s chances remain.

* * *

I pull my SUV onto the shoulder overlooking Mirror Lake and stare across the water. The sun is beginning its slow descent behind the mountains, washing everything in gold.

By dark, most of the tourists will have disappeared, and the locals will come out. The people who actually know this town.

If Kevin is hiding, he’ll surface eventually.

If someone has seen Semiyon, they’ll be less inclined to talk during daylight.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and start the engine again. It’s been sitting in my hand, heavy, for the last half-hour since leaving the warehouse.

Tonight, I won’t send just Art out, or Ariadna. I won’t send a single Boevik, I’ll look myself. I’ve lost sleep over worse, and somewhere in this town is a frightened boy who has already risked more for me than I ever should have allowed.

And if Yuri’s men have laid a hand on him, they’ll learn that there are some debts I don’t forgive.

* * *

The rain starts just as I’m fastening the last button on my coat. A steady Adirondack drizzle, not heavy enough to keep the locals indoors, but heavy enough to make them careless. They’ll drink and talk too much.

Perfect.

Art is already waiting in the foyer, speaking quietly into an earpiece while two Boeviks check sidearms beneath loose jackets. Ariadna stands beside the front doors with a folded map spread across a narrow console table, making final adjustments to the search routes.

Nobody looks relaxed. Neither do I.

“I’m taking Main Street through Mirror Lake,” I tell Art. “You cover Saranac Avenue.”

He nods once.

“If Kevin surfaces, don’t approach unless you’re certain he’s alone. If he’s been missing this long, there’s a reason, and I don’t want to walk into a trap.”

Before anyone can answer, hurried footsteps echo down the hallway. One of the house staff appears, slightly out of breath.

“Mr. Borisov?”