by Geri Krotow
It felt like fate. When Luther placed his forehead to hers, their breaths intermingling, she didn’t resist.
“I’ve been through my own hell, too, Kit. Nothing like what you’ve faced, but I’ve seen things most people would never imagine. It can be lonely in that place of dealing with your own reality.”
“Yes.” She sighed out her response and her body swayed toward him. Tired of fighting her desires, she placed her gloved hands on either side of his face and forced him to look into her eyes. “Thank you for letting me know I’m not alone, Luther.”
His answer was immediate and not of the verbal variety. When his lips touched hers, she was still looking into his eyes and saw something deeper than curiosity or commiseration. Before she could begin to figure out what it was, his lids lowered and she followed suit.
* * *
We hope you enjoy the Silver Valley P.D. miniseries.
* * *
If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you think of Harlequin Romantic Suspense! #harlequinromsuspense
Dear Reader,
My Silver Valley P.D. series for Harlequin Romantic Suspense has been a wonderful, sometimes scary and always romance-filled ride. Stalked in Silver Valley is book nine and we find Kit, a survivor of domestic violence at the hands of her ex, a Russian Organized Crime operative, working side by side in an undercover op with Luther, a trained secret agent. As they combine formidable forces to finally bring down the menace of ROC in Silver Valley and the entire Northeast, Kit and Luther discover they have more to offer one another than professional expertise. While they are both professional enough to keep their mission the priority, they find keeping their hearts shut down from their mutual traumatic histories becomes impossible in the face of their immediate chemistry and deepening emotional connection.
Kit was a victim of human trafficking and domestic violence. If you or anyone you know is currently suffering or has suffered from either situation, please seek help. There are a myriad of organizations waiting to help you. You are not alone.
Peace,
Geri
STALKED IN
SILVER VALLEY
Geri Krotow
Former naval intelligence officer and US Naval Academy graduate Geri Krotow draws inspiration from the global situations she’s experienced. Geri loves to hear from her readers. You can email her via her website and blog, gerikrotow.com.
Books by Geri Krotow
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Silver Valley P.D.
Her Christmas Protector
Wedding Takedown
Her Secret Christmas Agent
Secret Agent Under Fire
The Fugitive’s Secret Child
Reunion Under Fire
Snowbound with the Secret Agent
Incognito Ex
Stalked in Silver Valley
The Coltons of Grave Gulch
Colton Bullseye
The Coltons of Mustang Valley
Colton’s Deadly Disguise
The Coltons of Roaring Springs
Colton’s Mistaken Identity
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
To Victims of Domestic Violence and Human Trafficking
You are seen. You are not alone. There is hope.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Excerpt from Cold Case Witness by Melinda Di Lorenzo
Chapter 1
The sky over Silver Valley, Pennsylvania glowed with the orange and pink hues that indicated autumn had arrived. Kit Danilenko had missed the sunset since she’d worked late today but was grateful to see what remained of the display. How many days, months and years had she dreaded the end of each day?
Burrowing into her pale blue peacoat as she walked to her car, she breathed in deeply and exhaled the remaining whispers of the life she’d fled, making a conscious decision to embrace who she’d become over the last couple of years.
Kit loved the end of the day, after she’d put in a good eight, twelve or sometimes eighteen hours at the Silver Valley Police Department, where she helped solve high profile criminal cases, mostly involving Russian Organized Crime, ROC, due to her language ability. Thanks to extensive therapy and medical support, she was able to dive deep into the cases without experiencing the PTSD flashbacks that had haunted her right after she’d turned in her ex, a former Russian Organized Crime operative. Being able to work at SVPD to bring down ROC’s local operatives was a dream come true after receiving her degree in criminal justice.
The drive back to her apartment was no more than five minutes, but put her into a new mindset nonetheless. It was always a treat to know she was going to a safe place, the home she’d built for herself. The one-bedroom flat was a stark contrast to the nine-bedroom mansion she’d been imprisoned in by her ex, for the better part of six years. Now her new home was exactly how she liked it.
The hands-free phone system lit up with the caller, but nonetheless she spoke with caution into the voice-activated microphone.
“Hello?”
“Kit, it’s Claudia.” Her boss. “I don’t have anything for you tonight, but Colt is going to introduce you to an agent who you’ll be assigned to work with as soon as we have any leads on our main target.” Claudia Michele was the retired two-star US Marine Corps General who ran Trail Hikers, the government shadow agency that bolstered US law enforcement at home and abroad. Although they happened to be headquartered in Silver Valley, their reach was global. Kit did language and communications work for them, too, sometimes getting pulled off her SVPD work to do so.
“I’m ready whenever you need me, Claudia.”
“I know you are. I wish I had more for you right now, but we’re all waiting.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Claudia disconnected. Kit was thrilled that someone like Claudia, and her entire organization, had confidence in Kit’s abilities. Claudia and Trail Hikers had been involved in the op that eventually took down Kit’s ex, and Kit had worked alongside TH personnel before she ever knew they existed.
Most of the SVPD didn’t know about TH. Whenever they saw an unfamiliar face in civilian clothes come into the station, and especially Colt’s office, that person was assumed to be a federal agent. Kit had been stunned that she’d been asked to apply for a position so quickly after joining SVPD. But since Claudia was married to Kit’s other boss, SVPD Chief of Police Colt Todd, the two had both witnessed how far Kit had come from the dregs of an abusive, forced underage marriage to working through her mental, emotional and physical trauma. The couple had given her the building blocks to continue with the degree she began part-time while still married to Vadim Valensky, the notorious ROC human trafficker.
With Vadim behind bars for good, Kit’s life had morphed into something beyond her wildest dreams.
The car dashboard lit up again, followed by the mechanical bell ring. She recognized the ID this time.
“Hi, girlfriend!”
“Hey.” Annie F
iero-Avery’s voice filled the car and Kit smiled. Her closest friend since leaving her ex, Annie knew her every secret. Mostly. “You home yet?”
“Almost. In the car, waiting at the second stoplight.”
Annie’s warm laughter rumbled over the speakers. “It is rush hour in Silver Valley, you know. I called because Josh has an assignment tonight, and I wondered if you want to meet for herbal tea or a decaf in the café later?” They both avoided caffeine after lunchtime.
“That sounds wonderful.” Kit wouldn’t break her date with the sofa for just anyone—but Annie was always her top choice.
“I’m not ruining any fun plans you might have?”
“Stop. I don’t have plans.” Kit tried to sound exasperated but she understood Annie’s motives. She’d witnessed Annie’s happiness firsthand when Annie married Detective Josh Avery in the catering barn owned by Coral, who had remarried her ex, Kyle King. Her friends were so happy in their relationships, and Annie in her marriage to Josh, that she thought Kit would find happiness with the right person, too. Annie was always hinting around the subject. “You know, just because I’m finally feeling myself and enjoying life doesn’t mean I have to add a man to it.”
“Not a man, the right man. When it’s time. I’ll see you at the café in a couple of hours, then?”
“Sure thing.”
Kit waited for the phone to disconnect automatically as she sat at the prolonged light. Looking past the long line of cars and to the intersection, she saw there was a small fender bender being cleared to the side of the road. Another reminder to check the hot sheet before she left the station. She could have kept working for another fifteen minutes. Her fingers were on the stereo button, about to hit Play, when a chill skipped across her nape.
“Dang it.” She let the words out quietly even though she was alone in her small sedan. For the third time in as many days, she had the feeling of being watched. Not security camera, eye-in-the-sky kind of surveillance. This was the same basic instinct that had served her well when she was married to her ex, a human trafficking monster. The gut feeling that never let her down always told her if Vadim’s drunkenness would be the sloppy, pass-out-on-the-sofa kind, or would morph into the rage that led to physical abuse.
Kit checked her rearview and side mirrors, noting that two cars behind her was a black SUV. Unremarkable in Central Pennsylvania, where swiftly changing weather patterns, combined with varying terrain, made the vehicles practical and not just another sign of suburbia. She’d noticed a particular SUV yesterday, and the day before, with the same stickers on the rear window, indicating that the owner had a family. They were stick figures dressed in varying athletic gear, the mom in tennis, the dad with skis, one girl with a soccer ball and another with ballet shoes, making it the least likely vehicle to be following her. Except it kept appearing in her rear view mirror, like now.
Traffic moved at a snail’s pace due to the minor accident. She maneuvered into the right turn lane, slowed down and waited for the SUV to pass, doing the same thing she did yesterday after getting the creeps in this exact location, the last traffic light before entering Silver Valley proper, the town’s historical district.
She slowed down further to match the traffic flow, and came to a full stop right before she had to make the turn home. The car behind her beeped, but she didn’t want to miss her chance to see the SUV’s rear window.
At the precise moment she was forced to begin the turn, the SUV sped through the intersection, a reckless move that would normally have her noting the license plate and handing it over to one of the SVPD officers. Instead, she kept her gaze level, straining in the dimming light to see if it had the same stickers on its bumper.
The SUV’s windows were darkened, something she’d discovered yesterday, so she didn’t attempt to make out the driver or to see if there were passengers.
She searched for the unmistakable white stick figures, and her stomach sank when she found them. If it wouldn’t put civilians at risk, she’d have whirled back into the traffic and followed the car. Instead she had to make the turn and take a different way to her apartment.
Kit racked her brain. She could let her colleagues at SVPD know, but without a license plate number they weren’t able to do a whole heck of a lot. Plus, she didn’t want to appear unprofessional—they’d ask her why she thought she was being followed, and while SVPD officers all extolled the importance of gut instinct, it had to be followed with cold, hard facts. Had she been at risk? Had the vehicle’s driver ever attempted to put her in a dangerous position?
Simply thinking this SUV was following her wasn’t enough, and Kit knew it. Her times leaving the station varied, so that took away the chance of her and the SUV driver having the same schedule. But Silver Valley wasn’t so large that it would be unusual to see the same drivers on the road from time to time. Improbable, yes; impossible, no.
She was about to park in the lot behind her apartment building, but not before she drove by the row of lots that stood behind all of the buildings that lined Main Street in Silver Valley. The mostly historical structures had served other purposes a century ago, from the local police station to a bank to the original fire brigade. They’d been converted to meet more modern needs, but Silver Valley had done a good job at preserving the town’s and Central Pennsylvania’s architectural heritage.
A black SUV wasn’t parked in any of the nearby lots, and Kit let out a long breath. It was normal for her to feel unsettled every now and then; she’d survived a prolonged traumatic event, as her therapist reminded her when she got down on herself for not being “completely” over the fallout from her abusive marriage.
Kit parked her car in its usual spot, determined not to let her quick-trigger alarm run her life. As soon as she pulled in, she felt at home. Her new familiar. And safe from the suspicious SUV and everything else.
The back of the three-story brick building blocked any view of the remaining sunset. Aromas of pizza and coffee tickled her nose. The local coffee shop was in the building next to her apartment, and the Italian restaurant sat across on Main Street and down a block. She allowed herself one takeout per week of the authentic Neapolitan fare.
Sometimes she wandered into the coffee shop after work, but tonight she wanted nothing more than to curl up on her sofa and cuddle with Koshka, her beloved feline.
She walked alone from the lot, across the access street and to her building. Her footsteps fell silently on the cobblestone path.
A loud clanging made her jump and she whipped around to face the sound. A man stood near the trash and recycle receptacles behind the coffee shop, emptying glass bottles and aluminum cans into the bin. She hadn’t noticed him walking up, and his sudden appearance jarred her—until she made out his face.
“Brad! What are you doing here? I didn’t recognize you in civilian clothes.”
SVPD Officer Brad Norris grinned and held up a hand in greeting. “I’m heading over to Mario’s for a slice of pizza.”
“Oh, meeting your family?”
“No, Marcie’s got them out and about, running errands.”
“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
She walked around to the front of her building and entered through the main door, climbing the three floors to her apartment. Brad Morris was the nicest guy and one of the first officers to befriend her when Chief of Police Colt Todd had hired her as an unsworn employee. She’d met Brad’s wife at a charity gala and wanted to kick herself for being so riled by his appearance behind the café. Maybe she needed to call her counselor and ask to start her therapy sessions weekly again. They’d gone to once per month over the past six months, but it was possible her brain was acting up and going into hyperalert status again. The long hours on the ROC case might be stressing her.
Chief Todd and his wife, Claudia, were vigilant with her. Even though Kit was you
ng enough to be their daughter, she didn’t see them as parental figures, though, but strong mentors who’d not only helped her get out of an abusive home life but trusted that she’d healed enough to be a part of their organizations.
Kit had never been happier to work for law enforcement to bring down the source of pain for too many innocent victims. Another positive was that she had her own safe place to call home. She’d hit the jackpot.
With all her recent good fortune, she needed to shake this sense of being followed, targeted. Her new life left no room for a PTSD flashback.
* * *
Undercover Agent Luther Darby drove from his sometimes home, nothing more than a small condo in Newark, New Jersey, to Central Pennsylvania and wondered if he was kidding himself.
Was it really this close to the end for East Coast ROC ops, and for Dima Ivanov and Ludmilla Markova? After years of tracking the organized crime ring, its own evil nation of sorts, he wanted to believe it was true. Wanted to think he’d never have to go deep undercover again, to get so close to the enemy that he could be taken in by them. Well, one of them, in particular. The wife of one of the big bad guys.
They’re both dead. Let it go.
His phone rang, the Caller ID flashing across his dashboard. Claudia Michele. It was as if he’d summoned his boss and director of the Trail Hikers, the lethal agency that got called in to back up all types of LEA, law enforcement agencies, when the stakes were too high to risk more highly trained agents.
“Claudia. I’m on my way.”
“I know.” Of course she did—Claudia tracked each and every TH operative worldwide from her vaulted office at TH Headquarters on the outskirts of Silver Valley. “I thought we’d use your drive time to do some prebriefing.”
“Roger that.”
“We’re still not clear on Ivanov’s movements but there have been some cell phone hits that match his previous patterns.”
“Who’s he talking to?”
“That’s what’s strange—it looks like it’s Mishka Valensky, Vadim’s son.”
