Read Online Sands of Time by Susan May Warren - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan May Warren
Ads: Link
have to turn the Redman charm on overdrive.”
“Sadly, I think she’s immune.”
Vicktor laughed. “Roman, the fact is, the problem with you and Sarai is that you are too much alike. Driven. Focused. Sadly, you’re focused on different things.”
“Yeah, like I want her alive.”
The humor evaporated from Vicktor’s voice. “I think she’d say the same thing about you.”
Roman stared at the closed door, hating how those words dug into the crannies of his chest. “What’s the latest on our dead American?”
Silence. Apparently Vicktor didn’t want to change the subject.
“Listen, you of all people should know that I’m doing my best to live out my Christian life the only way I know how. What more does she want of me? I don’t understand her, and she certainly doesn’t get me.”
“I think she gets you just fine. The problem is you can’t accept it.”
“That’s not why she left me.”
“Then why? I remember you two back then. You were inseparable. Do you remember the night you took her to the Moscow circus?”
Yes. It had probably been the last full and refreshing breath he could remember. Everything seemed a blur since then.
“You told me that night that you were going to marry her,” Vicktor said quietly.
I would have. Except, she didn’t want me.
“I don’t know. I guess she was afraid I’d get killed. But let’s take a good look at who’s been the one to risk her neck over the past decade. If anyone is on a suicide track, it’s Miss Save the World.”
“Well, you’re both going to be dead if you don’t throw her over your shoulder and hightail it back here. You’re lucky. Malenkov is tied up all day in meetings, but I can guarantee you he’ll come hunting you when he sets foot in the office. I suggest you be here.”
“I know.” Roman sighed, glanced again at Sarai’s closed door. C’mon Sarai, loosen up. “So, did Utuzh give you a report on our dead guy?”
“Oh, yeah. The smell—you were right. Not vodka. He had acute kidney failure. If he hadn’t been murdered in the casino, he might have ended up dead in North Dakota. And the stuff you freaked out over—good instincts. Uranium. HEU, the same stuff your Smirnov had, at least the same substance. Whether it came from the same source is difficult to determine.”
“He must have ingested it somehow.”
“I don’t think he used it as pâté on his black bread, Roman.”
Roman shook his head, feeling the knot in the back of his neck tighten. “What did he have in his stomach?”
Vicktor paused, perhaps reading the report. “Vodka. Fish—fresh-water Kombola. Some bread.”
“Run a check on everywhere he stayed while in Russia. Talk to the hotel, see what local café serve Kombola.”
“Roma, if the guy ate contaminated food, wouldn’t we have others who were sick?”
“Maybe we do.” Roman instantly regretted his tone. “Listen, I’m just…tired. Maybe, also, find out if there are any decommissioned reactors near the cities he stayed in. And, question the Alexander Oil guy when he tries to claim the body.”
“ Ladna. I’ll call you. Try and get back here before you get into real trouble.”
“Yeah, well, tell that to She Who Locks Herself in Her Office.”
Vicktor laughed as he hung up.
I could use a little help, God. Roman ran the back of his hand across his whiskered jaw. No, better yet, I could use some answers.
Like, why Sarai, a woman who at one time smiled every time he walked into the room, couldn’t stand to be around him longer than ten minutes. He was just trying to be the man God wanted him to be—he just wasn’t doing it her way. She should take it up with God, not him.
He was perfectly happy with the profession God had chosen for him. Being a cop felt right, and he did it well, or at least, had until recently. Yes, there may have been a blink in time when he considered being a missionary. A blip, really, when he’d helped Sarai at an orphanage and thought that perhaps,
“Sadly, I think she’s immune.”
Vicktor laughed. “Roman, the fact is, the problem with you and Sarai is that you are too much alike. Driven. Focused. Sadly, you’re focused on different things.”
“Yeah, like I want her alive.”
The humor evaporated from Vicktor’s voice. “I think she’d say the same thing about you.”
Roman stared at the closed door, hating how those words dug into the crannies of his chest. “What’s the latest on our dead American?”
Silence. Apparently Vicktor didn’t want to change the subject.
“Listen, you of all people should know that I’m doing my best to live out my Christian life the only way I know how. What more does she want of me? I don’t understand her, and she certainly doesn’t get me.”
“I think she gets you just fine. The problem is you can’t accept it.”
“That’s not why she left me.”
“Then why? I remember you two back then. You were inseparable. Do you remember the night you took her to the Moscow circus?”
Yes. It had probably been the last full and refreshing breath he could remember. Everything seemed a blur since then.
“You told me that night that you were going to marry her,” Vicktor said quietly.
I would have. Except, she didn’t want me.
“I don’t know. I guess she was afraid I’d get killed. But let’s take a good look at who’s been the one to risk her neck over the past decade. If anyone is on a suicide track, it’s Miss Save the World.”
“Well, you’re both going to be dead if you don’t throw her over your shoulder and hightail it back here. You’re lucky. Malenkov is tied up all day in meetings, but I can guarantee you he’ll come hunting you when he sets foot in the office. I suggest you be here.”
“I know.” Roman sighed, glanced again at Sarai’s closed door. C’mon Sarai, loosen up. “So, did Utuzh give you a report on our dead guy?”
“Oh, yeah. The smell—you were right. Not vodka. He had acute kidney failure. If he hadn’t been murdered in the casino, he might have ended up dead in North Dakota. And the stuff you freaked out over—good instincts. Uranium. HEU, the same stuff your Smirnov had, at least the same substance. Whether it came from the same source is difficult to determine.”
“He must have ingested it somehow.”
“I don’t think he used it as pâté on his black bread, Roman.”
Roman shook his head, feeling the knot in the back of his neck tighten. “What did he have in his stomach?”
Vicktor paused, perhaps reading the report. “Vodka. Fish—fresh-water Kombola. Some bread.”
“Run a check on everywhere he stayed while in Russia. Talk to the hotel, see what local café serve Kombola.”
“Roma, if the guy ate contaminated food, wouldn’t we have others who were sick?”
“Maybe we do.” Roman instantly regretted his tone. “Listen, I’m just…tired. Maybe, also, find out if there are any decommissioned reactors near the cities he stayed in. And, question the Alexander Oil guy when he tries to claim the body.”
“ Ladna. I’ll call you. Try and get back here before you get into real trouble.”
“Yeah, well, tell that to She Who Locks Herself in Her Office.”
Vicktor laughed as he hung up.
I could use a little help, God. Roman ran the back of his hand across his whiskered jaw. No, better yet, I could use some answers.
Like, why Sarai, a woman who at one time smiled every time he walked into the room, couldn’t stand to be around him longer than ten minutes. He was just trying to be the man God wanted him to be—he just wasn’t doing it her way. She should take it up with God, not him.
He was perfectly happy with the profession God had chosen for him. Being a cop felt right, and he did it well, or at least, had until recently. Yes, there may have been a blink in time when he considered being a missionary. A blip, really, when he’d helped Sarai at an orphanage and thought that perhaps,
Similar Books
