Sergei and Roman stood as well, but it was Sergei who spoke. “And?”

“And Roman and I have work to do.” Kir rounded the desk and buttoned his jacket. Cassie trusted him. Had chosen him for her future despite what she was giving up to do so. She deserved the same trust from him in return. “In the meantime, I will give her space to do whatever it is that needs to be done.”

Chapter Twenty

You’ve reached the voice mail for Lizbet Montlake. At the tone, leave your message and a number where I can return your call.

“Shit.” Cassie punched the end button on her phone before Lizbet’s voice mail could kick in and scowled out the Mercedes’s back window. A week ago, hell would have frozen over before she’d have called her former colleague four times inside a one-hour time period. Now, she’d give a lot just to have her on the phone for five minutes.

Maybe she was busy.

Maybe she was avoiding talking to Cassie to steer clear of any awkwardness or taint by association.

It didn’t matter. In another ten minutes, the only way she’d be able to avoid Cassie would be if she was out of the office on assignment.

She flipped open the thick folder full of contacts she’d snatched on her way out of the house. Six months’ worth of interviews, every one of them conducted in painstaking thoroughness and carefully documented.

Using station resources to promote mafiya activities, my ass.

One-third of the way through the stack, she found the notes from the interview she’d done with Alfonsi’s bodyguard. Cassie punched the mobile number scratched on the top right corner into her phone.

One ring.

Another.

And another.

She tapped an impatient rhythm on the side of the folder in her lap and chewed her lip.

“Yo!” Not exactly the most professional way to answer a phone, but definitely a voice that matched the man she’d interviewed before.

“Mr. Hofster?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Who’s this?” Defensive and a little suspicious, but understandable if he hadn’t recognized her number.

“This is Cassie McClintock. We talked several months ago about Stephen Alfonsi.”

An irritated huff sounded before he answered. “Yeah, I remember. Look, miss, I don’t mean to be an ass. You’re pretty and nice and all, but I told you everything I knew back then. Alfonsi’s gone. Everyone’s forgotten about him. Maybe you should do the same, yeah?”

God, she wished. Alfonsi and talking to people who had no desire to talk and fighting for every single step forward in her career.

The unfiltered thought startled her. Enough so that Hofster started talking again before she could. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I’m just over the whole ordeal, ya know?”

“Yes, absolutely. I am, too. I just had something come up yesterday and needed to tie off one topic we talked about. Can I ask you a quick question?”

Either she’d caught him at an optimal time, or he was processing a lot of guilt for the way he’d spoken to her, because he sighed and said, “Yeah, sure. What is it?”