Found

FOUND

Kimber Chin

Dedication

Thank you to my two of my favorite romance reading buddies Cecile and Blodeuedd. Found
wouldn't have been written without your love and support. A big thank you, as always, to my
wonderful hubby. You rock, love!

****

One

"Loyalty is built upon the foundation of favors."ȄSergei Kaerta
A horn blasted, startling Tatyana so much she fell out of bed. A car. She scrambled to her feet. Here. She ran through the house, her bare feet slapping on the hardwood floor. In the middle of nowhere. She paused only for a moment to slip into flip-flops before darting out the door. She summed up the situation in a glance. An accident. The hood of a car wrapped around a tree, the tires spinning up turf, a sole figure slumped over the steering wheel.

Damn, damn, damn. Tatyana ran. How had death found her? The nearest neighbor was a mile away. She talked to no one. How?

She yanked the door open. The driver was a woman, her long black hair matted with blood, a rounded belly protected by a hand. Pregnant. She couldn't die. Please don't let her die.

"Are you okay?" Tatyana touched her left shoulder.

The woman raised her head, her Asian eyes unfocused. "B...b...baby...," followed by some words in a foreign language, gibberish to Tatyana. She waved a bloody business card like it would explain everything.

Tatyana scanned the card. It explained nothing. Just a phone number. Useless. She tucked the card into the pocket of her pajama top. "Can you walk?" At this time of night, it'd take thirty-two minutes for the paramedics to arrive, but only twenty-one to drive her to the hospital. The eleven minutes could make a difference.

A nod from the woman and an attempt to rise. Tatyana hooked her arms around her, helping her up. Blood gushed from the woman's right shoulder. Had she been shot?

Tatyana moved her to the passenger seat of her Volvo sedan.

Her own hands were soaked. Too much blood. Tatyana backed up, tires squealing. She hadn't much time. "Your name?" Anything to help identify her...in case.

"Chai...," she babbled more words Tatyana didn't understand.

She let her talk, her fading voice reassuring Tatyana she was alive. She would not be responsible for a pregnant woman's death. She would not. Tatyana drove with grim determination. This time it'd be different. The woman's words drifted off. This time she'd live. Tatyana had the best medical coverage. The hospital was known for its emergency room. She'd live. She had to.

Red light. The only damn light between her and the hospital and it would have to be red.

Tatyana didn't slow, swerving to miss a minivan, the Volvo tilting. The woman mumbled something. Tatyana breathed in deeply, relieved. She still lived.

Tatyana turned into the emergency entrance. A man in an orange vest waved at her, signaling for her to move her vehicle. Tatyana ignored him, running to the passenger side.

"You can't stop here, miss. Ambulances only."

"I need help," Tatyana yelled at the top of her lungs. "She's been shot. She's pregnant. She's dying."

Please let me, just this once, be wrong. Tatyana stepped back, allowing the men and women to do their jobs. They lifted the woman onto a stretcher, wheeling her into the building. So much blood. Tatyana stared at the damp leather seat.

"Miss, miss." A sympathetic woman in pink scrubs touched her arm. "Are you next of kin?"

"Yes," Tatyana replied. She knew the routine. Being next of kin granted her authority to make much needed life or death decisions. "Her name is Tatyana Sokolov...her married name," she clarified. The explanation was unnecessary; the admittance nurse hadn't seen that the woman was Asian. "I have her medical insurance information. Do whatever you can." Please let her live.

Tatyana sat alone in a private waiting room. She'd stay for a few more minutes, leaving before the cops returned, before they figured out the name she'd given them was false. Not that the Sokolov name was any more real.

Tatyana flipped the bloody business card in her fingers. The woman who answered was mere minutes away from the hospital, that information relayed in a calm, unemotional voice. As though all her friends ended up dead. As though she was another Tatyana.

She wasn't another Tatyana. There was no one else like her. She should leave now, before the woman arrived and exposed her as a fraud.

But then the baby, the baby would be alone. Like she was. A sweet little baby girl with no mother to take care of her.

Tatyana's head bowed. Because she had killed her mother, the mystery woman. Why? Why did death follow her?

There was a creak as the door opened. A woman almost as petite as she was stood there, studying her with sad emerald eyes. "Are you Tatyana?" she whispered.

The woman from the business card. Now, she'd have to deal with that drama, too. Tatyana looked around her, reassuring herself the room was empty. "Yes."

"You can call me Maggy." You can call me? Was that not her real name? "She's dead, isn't she?" Maggy sat beside her, a briefcase in her lap.

"Yes." Tatyana couldn't look at her. The woman, this Maggy, would spot the guilt written in her eyes. Deserved guilt. It was her fault the lady was dead. She killed her.

Instead, Tatyana gazed through the tiny window in the door. All she could see was the back of some guy's bald head. He hadn't been there before Maggy arrived and he wasn't moving away. They must be together.

"We waited a day too long," the brunette mumbled. Too long? What did that mean? "The baby?"

"A healthy baby girl." For now. She should leave. Before death came back. If the baby died.

Tatyana clasped her hands together. Her fingers were so cold.

There was rustling. "I'll need you to sign the papers, then."

"The papers?" For what?

"The adoption papers," Maggy said, like it was obvious. "We'll back date it for a month ago."

She held out a pen.

Tatyana took it. "What about the dad?"

"Dead, and the husband did this." She waved at the door.

The husband and the dad weren't the same person? And why would a husband shoot his wife? "I'm not the legal guardian."

"No. You're the mother." Before she could protest, Maggy continued. "You had her admitted as you. When she died, you died, the mother of the child." The mother of the child. Tatyana hugged her stomach, the dried blood sticky. A child she'd never have. "It's for the best. You can't go back."

"I wasn't planning to." Because if she went back, death would find her again. It knew where she lived. More people would die. Agitated by the thought, Tatyana pushed her hair behind an ear.

"Good, because you can't." Consideration darkened those green eyes. "Sign the papers. Give the child a home."

A home. A place to stay forever. Tatyana batted down the envy, scanning the words. There were blanks where the adoptive parents' names should be. That was good. She didn't want to know. "Are they good people?"

"The best." A fond smile. "They'll spoil her to pieces. She'll never want for anything."

The baby would be loved. She could give her this, a poor exchange for the mom she'd taken away. Tatyana signed the papers with a flourish. "Is that all you need me for?" She was tired, but she had tasks to complete before she slept, a new life to move to. Tatyana stood.

"You can't go back," Maggy repeated, standing also.

Maggy restating the obvious irritated the hell out of Tatyana. They'd had this conversation before. "I know."

Maggy moved between her and the door. "They'll be looking for you, the husband and his men."

Tatyana didn't ask why because she was so damn tired and she didn't really care. She had bigger concerns. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll have to disappear completely." The woman's arms folded. "I can help with that," she insisted. "It is what I do, what I was trying to do for her."

Her. Chai, the dead woman. "I can do it myself." Tatyana had the next move all set up. She always did that. She knew she'd need it.

Maggy fiddled with her wedding ring. "Let me do it for you."

To have someone else handle all that. Tempting. Tatyana blinked, her vision blurry from lack of sleep. But she'd never put Maggy at risk. "I can do it myself." When the woman opened her mouth, Tatyana added, "I'd appreciate a lift to the Crown Hotel, though." Her information was there.

Nik shuffled his favorite pack of cards as the car drew up, Maggy requesting both the use of the casino's private entrance and an emergency meeting with Grandfather. That combination reeked of trouble, which was the reason for Pavel's burly presence behind him.

Nik split the deck. The Queen of Hearts. He'd pulled that card all night.

"Nikolay." He tucked the cards back in his inside jacket pocket as Maggy bounced out of the passenger seat.

"Maggy." They embraced briefly, air kissing cheeks. Maggy preferred not to be touched.

Despite that foible, Nik liked Maggy very much. There was even a time he considered her for a wife as she was the only woman he knew with the balls to stand up to Grandfather.

Respect, in Nik's mind, was very close to love.

He waited impatiently while she greeted Pavel, his number one man. The two exchanged niceties, irritating Nik. This wasn't a social visit. It shouldn't be treated as one.

Domi, Maggy's bodyguard, positioned himself by the rear of the car. He looked especially grim. "Who did you bring with you, Maggy?" Nik broke into the conversation.

"I need to see Sergei."

Why didn't she answer? "I know that." Was it a dead body to be disposed of? It shouldn't have been brought to the casino. Nik opened the back door.

"Nikolay, no," Maggy squeaked.

He peered inside. Nothing. A pile of clothes in the back. No. The clothes moved. Long frizzy brown hair. A small, curled up body. A child. "No kids in the casino, Maggy."

"She's not a kid." His friend stood close behind him.

A girl, then. Now awake. Her head rose. "Are we there?" She swept back the mass of crazy hair, stretched upward, the layers of fabric falling away, revealing a flat pale stomach.

Nik's body stirred inappropriately. She was a girl. A girl. Disgusted with himself, he turned away, letting Maggy handle the situation.

"What is it, boss?" Pavel asked.

"A scared little girl." What did Maggy expect them to do with her? They weren't running a daycare.

"That's no little girl." Pavel's jaw slackened.

Nik pivoted on his heels. His number one man was right. That was no little girl. Although tiny, the frizzy haired creature leaning back on the car was a woman, the bloodstained cotton pajamas clinging to her curves, her nipples pointed, hard.

As he was fast becoming. He forced his eyes to her face. She wasn't pretty, not by Vegas standards, but there was fight and determination in that chin. "Who is she?"

"Someone you're better off not knowing." Dark eyes flashed. "I was to go to the hotel, straight to the hotel, that was the deal." The woman's attention was back on Maggy, ignoring Nik.

Nik didn't like that. He deserved deference, respect, fear. Couldn't she see that? He moved toward her.

"You need protection," Maggy insisted.

"No, you need protection. I tried to warn you. I tried to be nice. But you don't listen. You don't know who I am, what you're dealing with." Brown eyes, Nik was close enough to see the color now.

"And what is your problem?" the girl-woman snapped at him.

No deference, no respect, no fear. "Mind your manners, Brat."

"Bite me."

No one spoke to him like that. A blaze of red hot rage and his mouth was on her, biting her soft skin with lip-covered teeth where her neck met her shoulders.

"You bastard." She swung.

He caught her wrist before her palm made impact. "You will behave," he warned her. They stared at each other. He was wrong. Her eyes weren't brown. They were green. But not poker table green like Maggy's, but a muddy green.

"Tanya."

"My name is not Tanya." She whirled on Maggy, bristling with emotion. "My name is Tatyana, Tatyana, get it straight."