by J M Dolan
“Survival,” Jamee declared.
“Protect and rescue,” added Sam.
“Hey, I didn’t need protection and only a little rescuing. The bull did most of it,” Jamee protested.
Sam laughed and hugged her to him.
“Sorry, for barking, I was a worried friend.” Thomas frowned “Are you okay, Jamee?”
“I think one of the medics could check her out,” said Sam.
Jamee glared at him. “Just bumps and bruises, I’m fine.”
“I’ll get someone over here, and we’ll make sure.” Thomas raised an arm and gave a shout to the paramedics standing outside the waiting ambulance.
“Have you heard from Abi?” asked Jamee.
Thomas took a minute to fill them in. “I received a call from Abi. Her and the kids arrived safely at the house in Calgary. She wanted me to let you know the kids think it has all been a great adventure. They have no idea of the danger they’ve been in. Sorry again.”
“Sorry?” said Jamee.
“I should have told you sooner. Abi is going to skin me alive that I didn’t tell you right away. And here I thought I was making brownie points. Guess I blew it,” Thomas said miserably.
“No worries, the timing of the message can be between you and me, and Sam here of course. I’m in your court when it comes to making a good impression on Abs,” Jamee confided. Knowing that her family was safe went along way to ease Jamee’s mind.
When the coroner and his team arrived, Thomas moved off to greet them. Jamee was content to wait her turn to give a statement. Sam opted to keep her company.
“Ma’am.” One of the waiting EMTs approached. He carried a medic-box and a folding chair. “Do you need medical attention?”
“I’m fine,” replied Jamee, “just some minor bumps and bruises that a soak in mineral salt is going to cure.”
“Good for stiff muscles, for sure.” He calmly unfolded the chair. “Here, have a seat. Let’s see.”
Jamee glanced at Sam for support. She was fine and wasn’t feeling very cooperative about further poking and prodding. She held out for half a second then with a sigh, sat. The sigh ended in a wince of self-pity when her battered knees were forced to bend. Sam quickly took her weight and lowered her the rest of the way.
“She says she’s fine, but have a look at her knees and she took a hard yank to the head.” Somehow, he managed to sound tender, sympathetic and directive all at once.”
Jamee surrendered. The tech performed the basic vitals then, when Jamee pushed the stretch jeans up over her knees, murmured over the contusions and abrasions. He gently cleaned the dirt from the scraps and shallow cuts then applied a topical ointment. Her scalp was indeed tender and somewhere in his kit he came up with a gel which soothed the heat and numbed the tissue. Handing Jamee a bottle of water, he patiently supervised while she swallowed a couple of painkillers. She grimaced as she forced the pills passed her bruised throat.
The crackle of his radio drew the EMT away and with final instructions to get some rest, he moved off.
“It’s hard to keep my mind off today’s events,” admitted Jamee. “I can understand the idea of one country spying on another…but human trafficking is a heinous, inhuman act.” She pulled in a shuddering breath.
There was a long moment of silence.
“People can justify anything,” Jamee persisted sadly. “Isn’t history supposed to teach us something?”
“Yeah,” Sam grimaced, “and we seem to be learning the wrong lessons.”
Jamee stood with her arms wrapped tightly around her body, in protection more than to ward off any kind of chill. She’d returned Sam’s coat after Dunbar sent one of the constables to the farmhouse for her down-filled jacket. On their way up, Sam retrieved her sweater from the shale outcropping. Somehow, she had a feeling it would be making a trip to the second-hand store.
In the distance, the men were hauling on a rope to bring the stretcher with Volkov’s body over the edge of the coulee The body bag was surprisingly flat, Jamee averted her gaze as the black bag was placed on the waiting gurney and rolled to the back of the ambulance.
“One bastard may have got what was comin’ to him,” Jamee said venomously, “but Sam, more has to be done.”
“Granted.”
Sam indicated his agreement. “Sometimes Jamee, the steps taken, never seem to be enough. Evil is unrelenting, but this case will make a difference. It’s put more than a dent in operations for Mstislav. We’re shutting him down. Thomas wants to be a part of that debriefing. I’d better save the rest for him to tell.”
Sam turned towards her and pushed himself off the car. “Let’s take a walk, sunshine.” Jamee nodded her head in assent.
They walked in silence up the long drive, their footsteps automatically taking them in a direction away from the farmyard. If they were needed they would be easy to spot. The vivid image of recent events was still playing a loop in her mind. Jamee was certain it would take spring’s promise of new life to banish the pall hanging over the pump house. At some point, she and Sam needed to clear the air between them, and this was as good a time as any.
Jamee slipped her hand into Sam’s. He tucked it up against his chest and brushed his cheek across her knuckles. Jamee stopped and Sam turned towards her. Jamee was looking for understanding. Sam appeared to be waiting for her to speak.
“Have I ever told you, about Rule Number Thirteen,” she began.
“New one.” A smile played at the corner of Sam’s mouth.
“Manners go a long way in life.” Jamee said solemnly and then laughed quietly. “My mother would love that one.” It felt good to break the tension. She could almost hear her mother’s words; “Jamesina, what if everyone were to handle the situation like you did. What is right, what is fair-minded?” Jamee knew she’d acted badly. She lifted her unclasped hand to brush back his hair in a soft caress.
“Sam, I’m disappointed in how I handled things at our last meeting, and I apologize.” The words were soft and humble. “I’m hoping you haven’t given up on wanting to get to know me better. I really enjoy spending time with you, and I’d like to be more honest and open, and a little less flippant about that.”
Sam was very still for a long moment. “Sweetheart, you’re a little unnerving, but I’m not ready to toss in the towel. We all have our baggage.”
At his words he reached forward and gently picked up the locket from her warm skin.
“I’ve notice you wear this locket a lot. Diamond studs are sort of basic in a woman’s jewellery, but the locket is old school.”
Jamee stood frozen while Sam turned the locket over. She could see that he read the inscription, words engraved on her heart. Love Always.
“It’s a beautiful piece for sure, but is there someone of importance inside?”
She could see from the look in his eyes he would recognize the lie if she denied it. And, she wouldn’t. She could never deny the existence of a love that was her world.
Sam still held the locket though he’d turned it back around. Jamee laid her hand over his holding both to her heart. Easing the locket with tender care into her fingers she held it from the chain. Gentle pressure clicked the clasp open, and she unfolded it for Sam to see the cherubic faces of two young boys.
“Mine,” said Jamee softly. One word that managed to convey love, pride and fierce possession all at once.
“He didn’t want us, but his family does. The twins are older now and completing their education in Scotland. My parents are gone, but they have grandparents there as well as other relatives on both our sides. Whenever school is out I go, but not while Abi and her family settle in here. I miss them dearly, but they’ll be better men for the experience.”
She’d been studying the pictures the entire time she spoke. Now she risked a look at Sam, uncertain of his reaction. He was watching her intensely. It was a bombshell with little warning when he spoke.
“Children are a blessing, even mostly grown ones. You know me
well enough not to think I’d say differently. I’m sure there’s a long story in there somewhere but it won’t change how I feel about you or the blessings you come with. Love and family, trust and strength are all part of the package. This is true for both of us.”
“Well, Samuel,” she purred his name. “I’m going to kick off my new honesty by telling you — I really like you.” She paused. “I could definitely fall for you.” Now, she took both his hands. “The love word’s not out of the question…and that truly scares me. But, I’m learning, that sometimes, you simply need to hold onto something that is bigger than yourself.”
Jamee stepped closer and Sam wrapped his arms around her. Jamee leaned her head on his shoulder.
“I don’t like feeling afraid of life,” she said. “Hitting things head on is more my style. I chose to be trivial and weak, and I hate that you saw that.”
Jamee lifted her head to gaze once more into his warm brown eyes. “Sam, you’re a man I know I can count on. I’m ashamed and sorry for my earlier behaviour. I made a mistake with you because I was afraid. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Jamee took a deep breath.
“Just when I thought I’d seen the best in you,” said Sam, admiration evident in his voice, “babe, you take it to a whole new level. Apology accepted. You’re a tiger, kitten, and I like you, just the way you are.”
He took her mouth, sweet and soft, warming it with his own, sharing a promise that his lips sealed with the kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
They sat at the farmhouse kitchen table, drinking coffee. It was becoming a nice habit — Sam, Thomas, Sergeant Jock Dunbar and Jamee. She and Sam had given their official statements and everyone else had cleared out to follow Volkov’s body bag in the back of the ME’s hearse. One of the officers gave the dairy farmer the go ahead to move his herd, the truck-loaded bull was just disappearing down the laneway. He would have to pasture them closer to home for a day or two until the pump house and the area around it was no longer considered a crime scene.
“You’ve got some stones, Ms. Blair,” said Jock Dunbar, lifting his coffee cup in salute.
“That she does. One tough cookie,” agreed Thomas Avery, his brogue accent thickening for emphasis. “You too Sam, but then we’re used to your heroics.”
“Only in the meeting room,” pointed out Sam. “Man, this field work is a killer. No pun intended.”
“I’d say Sam’s worth his salt.” Jamee’s face was serious, “Saved my life today.”
“Well, there was a lot of that going around,” replied Sam modestly, “so back at you.”
The look he gave her was all fierce possession. A look this time Jamee didn’t turn away from.
“You kids have me all a-twitter,” Thomas teased, then turned serious, “but back to business. Sam, you lead off.”
“CBSA preliminaries are in, and in a nutshell, two border officers were paid and then threatened to refrain from reporting any minor irregularities. They were well paid and assured the chance of exposure was inconsequential.
“Volkov’s operative, hacked the system to add the case file numbers and the CBSA officers involved, processed the visas without a date of issuance. A seemingly small thing, but it gave Veronika time to make the switch to Odessa’s identity. The authorization numbers required for the two permits and the visa were on the system, even though the names weren’t. The Live-in Caregiver visa itself was otherwise legit — easy for the officers to validate the entry. The only supplementary detail required by Veronika was to line up the time of entry with the CBSA officers work schedule.”
“A smooth operation,” interjected Jamee, “sorta astonishing.”
“Agreed,” said Thomas, “though I hate to give the criminals any credit. What about the exotic dancer temporary work permits?”
“They were genuine, but equally available for multiple uses. It will likely turn out that the same, overseas CIC officer, issued both the Live-in Caregiver visa and the Temporary Worker Permits.” Sam sat back in his chair, signalling the conclusion of his report.
Thomas Avery picked up the thread of conversation. “Volkov’s outta the picture, and apparently Mstislav’s writing a tell-all book.” He looked pointedly to the Sergeant. “Jock, fill us in.”
Dunbar took over, “Mstislav is indeed being very cooperative. He’s aware we’re trying for murder charges but he’s also right in assuming we won’t be able to find the hard evidence we need to make it stick. So — he’s trying to make a deal.”
“Everything he has about the operation in exchange for the lesser charges,” interjected Sam.
“Don’t matter much,” Jock said. “We can pretty well throw away the key at this point. Otherwise, I think he clearly doesn’t want to be alone in his demise. If his operation goes down, he’s taking the others with him, so to speak. I gotta say,” he confided, “he’s not the sharpest tool.”
Dunbar took a drink from his cooling coffee. “So far, Mstislav’s given the RCMP a list of names and places, in Montreal and Calgary, Winnipeg, Vancouver and Niagara Falls, and even, a residential brothel in Fort McMurray. It’s far spread.”
“Makes me sick,” said Jamee.
“You won’t hear any argument from me,” Jock confirmed. “I see it every day.” His expression was bleak.
Thomas, picked up the thread, “Mstislav’s currently bartering for hamburgers and fries with what he knows about Kaminski and Volkov. It might be enough to determine who Aleksey Volkov reported to in Russia.
“Once we get everything we can out of Mstislav,” offered Dunbar, “we’ll turn him over to the justice system. There’ll be some “keener” there, that will make sure to pick out a fine facility for him to spend his days. With any luck, once he’s in the general prison population, someone will save the taxpayer some money. Molesters and rapists don’t tend to do too well behind bars. Not, that I condone it, but justice is more black and white inside.”
No one at the table chose to refute Dunbar’s statement. Somehow, imprisonment didn’t seem punishment enough for all the hurt and pain.
I also have a little surprise for you. Icing on the cake, so to speak. Mstislav’s not our only canary and the cat just arrived. Sergeant Dunbar grinned, blue eyes twinkling.
As though cued to enter stage right, Franie sauntered through the kitchen door.
“Everyone good?” The question and Franie’s stern look encompassed the room coming to rest on Jamee.
Dunbar answered. “No worries. As I said on the phone, Jamee took a few knocks, but she’s hard headed and won’t be feeling it until tomorrow. You won’t be able to convince her differently.
Franie hurried to her friend, encompassing her in a warm hug. Jamee hugged her back.
“Franie, always good to see you but what are you doing here. Did you hear about Volkov?”
“As a matter of fact, Jock filled me in.” Jamee’s eyebrows rose a fraction.
Franie took an open chair at the table, leaving one last chair vacant.
“There was an incident at the office this afternoon,” said Franie, “that has astonished us all by leading to the case Sergeant Dunbar is working on.”
Jamee’s look narrowed. She guessed Franie was having a bit of a go at her. It was a good thing the painkillers had kicked in or she might have lost her sense of fun.
“The point?” urged Jamee.
“I caught your mole,” said Franie.
“Get out. How?”
“She’s not any too smug about it,” added Dunbar. “And, deservedly so.” He conceded.
Franie drew out the wait with impeccable timing until all four were about to interrupt.
“Marge Tanner.” Franie broke into the story. “I’m sure, not her real name,” she said with sarcasm, “is a co-worker in my unit. At first it was just small things, but when I started researching the names you gave me she suddenly became my best friend. You know always there at my elbow, waiting to walk me to coffee, lunch, out to my car. It was annoying as hell.
”
Jamee and Franie shared a look of understanding.
“I do a regular sweep of my log-on times. Not something we are required to do, just a habit I picked from our crime lab days. My log times were off. I didn’t have an explanation for the discrepancies, but it made me more observant. I began noticing how often Marge hung around my desk, usually right over my shoulder. Once I caught on, I started watching her closely. The day I spotted her removing a jump drive from my computer I brought the matter to my supervisor, and subsequently security. Security was able to determine a key tracker had been loaded onto the hard drive. Malicious codeware sends the user to a landing page that mirrors the actual legitimate password page. The user is fooled into entering their protected password giving the hacker the ability to gain access. It was proof she was hacking into my computer.”
Jamee observed the smug look Dunbar had mentioned. Choosing to take the high road she kept any comment to herself, giving Franie the chance to deliver the punchline.
“Dee day came this morning,” chortled Franie. “I caught her red handed and the RCMP have since taken over.”
Franie nodded to Dunbar. He continued.
“I was notified an hour ago that Marge Tanner and another woman Sofiya Boychenko are in custody. Tanner was taken in for questioning. Espionage charges are pending. She turned Sofiya, a second sleeper agent, over to RCMP and Immigration Enforcement made the arrest.
“Franie asked to be able to observe the initial interview with Marge and she tied the two women to your case.”
Franie jumped in. “Marge was the mole on the inside. Volkov’s plant. She didn’t know that was his name, but when they showed her his picture, she identified him as her handler, a man she called Polonius. She also knew the name Veronika Koval, though she was unaware of Veronika’s undercover identity or what she looked like.”
