Chapter Eighty-Seven

Lena should have let someone know where she was going, but when she walked out of the yard, she hadn’t known where she was going.

Of course she would return. She wouldn’t miss something as important as her daughter’s rescue. But she didn’t want all those people put in danger, either.

She pushed her sunglasses back up on her nose and secured the bun on the top of her head. As disguises went, this one was pretty broke-ass, but it was what she had.

Pretending to focus her attention on the cell phone that didn’t work while walking and spying proved to be more than she could do on a single pass. Waiting ten minutes, she walked back down the street on the sidewalk closest to Viktor’s Long Beach home.

Was Kenzie in there? Could she be looking out the window? Would she recognize Lena if she saw her?

It took every bit of strength she had to make sure she kept to the sidewalk and didn’t divert through the gate. She kept walking a mile and half to the marina where Glorious Morning was docked.

The yacht was as pretentious as its name, and Lena wanted to light it on fire for what it represented. It wasn’t bad enough that Viktor had gobs of money, multiple homes, and a warehouse complex. He also owned ships and had enough people to protect him from people like her. Regular people whom he’d threatened.

On board, she saw a few men readying the boat—none she recognized. A maid, burdened down with three large shopping bags, boarded with no help from the guard on duty.

Surely, they wouldn’t bother to get the yacht ready unless Viktor was planning to leave on it.

Noticing a car with the trunk still open, she stepped closer to take a look. The trunk was filled with more grocery bags. The maid was already on her way back for another load. This was a lot of food for a weekend excursion. This was enough to stock a galley for a number of weeks. Long enough to get to another country.

Lena took a deep, calming breath and plastered a smile on her face. She had an idea.

“Hi, I’m Jenny. Are you new?” she lied when the maid returned.

“Kind of.” The other woman winced as if embarrassed it was that obvious. “I’m Rose.”

“I know it’s a pain, Rose, but you should lock the trunk between trips,” Lena said, trying to look concerned. “In case someone came by and tampered with something Mr. Kulakov might eat.”

Wow. Where was all this coming from? She’d opened her mouth and the lies just flew out.

“Oh. Yes. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I won’t say anything. Did you need a hand carrying this onboard?”

God. What was she doing? She couldn’t just stroll onto Viktor’s yacht. What if he was onboard already? What if Weller or Butch were here, checking things over?

But…what if Kenzie was onboard and Lena had a chance to sneak her off the boat without anyone getting hurt?

“I wouldn’t want to bother you,” Rose said.

“It’s no problem. I’m going up to check the media equipment for the trip. No sense going empty-handed. Besides, we don’t want this food sitting out here in the heat, right?”

“Thank you. That would be great.” At mention of the food going bad, the maid hurried along.

It wasn’t until Lena’s arms were weighed down with food and she was heading for the Glorious Morning gangplank that she realized this was a terrible idea that could easily go horribly, dreadfully wrong.