“You’ve been here before?” she asked Nicholas.
“Never without an invitation.” A restless energy manifested his distress. “I’d like you to ask most of the questions, as if you’re doing an interview.”
“Sure,” she agreed, albeit wondering about his reasons, wondering if he feared losing control. Clearly, Nicholas was troubled, revealing how deeply he cared, but about whom and what? Were his emotions set on high due to his still unspoken feelings for her and her safety? Or were his emotions due to feelings of betrayal by his father’s old friend?
Clearly, he intended to keep his emotions in check. She supposed he didn’t want to insult an ally—in case they were wrong.
The general opened the door with composure and escorted Nicholas, Ericka and four guards into his study.
His father’s old friend didn’t reveal surprise at Nicholas’ appearance nor did Ericka expect him to. From everything she knew about the cagey warrior who had won many battles, both military and political, he didn’t panic. The ultimate survivor, he’d escaped the Russian system and thrived in Vashmira. Ericka had already noted that age had not dulled his sensory antennae and in his mid-fifties, the general was in the prime of his life.
His simple study smelled of lemon wax and pipe smoke. The general offered them drinks, which they declined, then seats beside his fireplace. Two guards came inside and stood protectively at the door, the others waited outside the door. Ericka looked around curiously and, recalling Nicholas’ request, took out a pen and pad of paper from her purse.
The general threw back his head and swallowed a shot of vodka and spoke to Nicholas in his strong Russian accent. “To what do I owe the pleasure, my friend?”
“I was telling Ericka about her father’s brave death and his sacrifice. She’s asked to see the timer from the bomb her father threw himself upon. And she wants to ask you a few questions.”
The general’s eyes settled on Ericka, sizing her up. “I will make it a gift to you.”
He stood stiffly, marched to a shelf full of military hardware that included a pineapple grenade casing, a samurai sword and several pistols. Nicholas had told her on the way over that the mementos in this room all held personal memories for the general.
The general frowned at the shelf. “The timer is not here.”
“When was the last time you saw it?” Ericka asked casually, but suspected he read her concern. The wily Russian had a vigilant nature, always scanning his surroundings, alert to what was awry, out of place or dangerous—especially in his dealings with other people. Nicholas had told her the man also liked to keep his own counsel and rarely asked for outside opinions or advice. He made decisions easily and took care of himself.
“A month ago, maybe two, was when I last handled the timer. I am not sure.”
“You cannot remember?” Nicholas asked.
The general shrugged. “It’s not a valuable item to anyone but those of us who hold memories of the past close to our hearts.”
“I’d like a list of everyone who has been in your house since then.” Nicholas framed his words as a request but everyone recognized the order.
“May I ask why?”
“The timer turned up inside a package addressed and sent to Ericka. We found and disarmed a live bomb inside. The timer had the same serial number as the one on your shelf.”
The general grimaced, kept pacing. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to set me up.”
Ericka kept her tone calm. “Or maybe you sent it?”
“Young woman, if I wanted you dead, I could have thought of fifty, no, a hundred ways to accomplish it with no clues that would lead back to me. I have an entire army at my disposal, including some of the former Soviet Union’s elite fighting troops.”
Every word the general spoke was true. Ericka had no doubt he could pull off a covert assassination without leaving a clue that would lead straight back to him.
The general poured himself another shot of vodka then paced. “The list is a short one. The lady who comes to clean. The man who delivers my groceries. Both are villagers.”
“That’s it?” Ericka asked boldly, recalling her conversation with Natalie about his mistress, then realized the delicate nature of this interview. The general was one of the most powerful men in Vashmira. With trouble on the border, Nicholas needed his goodwill, his respect and his expertise. No wonder he’d suggested she ask the hard questions.
Nicholas depended on General Vladimir just as his father had. He didn’t want to insult the man unnecessarily, especially when he’d never given any reason for his loyalty to be doubted. Until now.
“Perhaps a stranger picked my lock and stole the timer,” the general suggested.
“Perhaps,” Nicholas replied, his tone neutral.
“No one else has been here?” Ericka pressed him.
“There was…someone…another woman,” the general admitted.
“Your mistress?” Ericka asked. “Who is she?”
“She’s a married woman.” Vladimir looked longingly at the vodka, then shook his head. Ericka imagined that the general’s loyalties were torn between duty to Nicholas and devotion to his lady. Perhaps he might loosen up if she came at him from a different angle.
“How long have you known her?” Ericka asked.
“Thirty-five years. Long enough to know she doesn’t have the knowledge to use that timer in a bomb.”
“But she knew the timer’s history?” Ericka pressed.
The general nodded. His pacing ceased in front of Nicholas. “Do you wish my resignation?”
“No.” Nicholas stood and faced his father’s old friend, who kept his back military straight, his demeanor strong and proud. “I wish the lady’s name.”
“There is no other way?” the general asked him.
“None.” Nicholas clapped the general on the shoulder. “I promise you that we will question her without her husband’s knowledge.”
“Her husband knows. It’s her child…”
Ericka’s jaw dropped. “What kind of man allows his wife to have an affair with another for, for…”
“Three decades,” the general filled in for her, and she swallowed a gasp. “I have asked myself that many times. What kind of man am I to settle for a mistress when I wanted her for a wife?”
Ericka now had the reason why the general had never married. He loved his married mistress. No wonder he didn’t want to reveal her identity. However, she had to insist.
“Sir, maybe she innocently gave the timer to another. Maybe she had no intention of doing harm. We will investigate and find the truth. But I must have her name because someone is trying to kill me, and if we don’t figure out their identity soon, they may very well succeed.”
“Please, ask the guards to leave,” the general requested of Nicholas, pain in his eyes, anguish in his voice.
Nicholas, cords in his neck tight, nodded for the guards to go. One thrust a pistol into his hands. “Sir, if we’re going to leave you alone with him, you should be armed.”
Nicholas placed the gun across his lap with a casual ease that indicated his familiarity with firearms. But no gesture could release the stress of waiting to hear the general’s next words. She had no doubt that beyond his mostly unruffled exterior Nicholas’ fury burned hot and deep. Yet, he would withhold judgment, wait for answers, and she could only respect his self-control.
“Fine. Fine.” The general waved them out the door. “Just go.”
Nicholas waited in silence until the door snapped shut. The logs in the burning fireplace crackled as if manifesting his tension.
Ericka refused to allow any more delay. Even as they spoke, the woman could be escaping or hatching another diabolical plan. “Your mistress’ name, General?”
“Natalie. Natalie Belosova.”
Chapter Twelve
On the drive back to the palace with Nicholas, Ericka recalled her conversation with the wife of the secretary of state, wondering if she’d missed hints or clues.
“Natalie told me that the general had a mistress. At the time, I thought she sounded smug because she was pleased to be in the know about palace gossip, but I never dreamed she was talking about herself.”
Nicholas shrugged. “She’s fooled many people. Who would think proper, respectable Natalie would have an affair for thirty years or that her husband knows about it?”
“She doesn’t seem the type,” Ericka agreed, “not the least bit flirtatious, but oh-so-proper.”
“With a husband and a lover, why would she flirt with other men?” Nicholas pointed out.
Ericka recalled how stunned she’d been by the general’s revelation and how unruffled Nicholas had appeared. “You knew about Natalie’s long-term affair with the general didn’t you?”
“Yes. It’s my duty to know about the people I work with. I couldn’t very well allow the general to risk being blackmailed by our enemies to keep his affair secret. But since Anton knows,” Nicholas shrugged, “I figured it was none of my business.”
“It becomes your business if Natalie sent the bomb and if she could also be the one who assassinated your father,” Ericka said. “While she had means and opportunity—don’t forget she was also at the beach the day of the boat bomb—what’s her motive?”
“I always thought she liked my father. Actually, she doted on him.”
Ericka frowned at Nicholas, trying to work out the puzzle. “Natalie told me your father was charming. You think she loved Anton, the general and your father?”
“Sounds far-fetched, doesn’t it?”
Ericka searched for a motive for murder that made sense. “Do you think it’s possible that Natalie became obsessed with the thought of Larissa becoming queen?”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “So she decided to kill off the competition—namely you?”
“Mothers do strange things for their children. In Texas, a mother was convicted of plotting murder to help her daughter make the cheerleading squad.”
“She plotted to kill a child?”
“Actually she went after the child’s mother. Apparently she thought the girl would be so upset over her mother’s death that she wouldn’t make the team. And this was a woman with no record. She seemed totally normal until then.”
“Like Natalie.”
Ericka leaned against Nicholas and sighed.
“We should have answers soon,” Nicholas told her. “Natalie’s at the palace, and I’ve asked my guards to bring her to my office for questioning.”
“What about her husband?”
Nicholas shook his head. “I want to question them separately, but we’ll have to wait for answers from my secretary of state. Anton secretly flew out last night to meet with a joint Israeli-American-Russian delegation.”
“Are they close to a solution?” Ericka asked. She’d almost forgotten the tense situation on the border and wondered how Nicholas juggled so many different concerns. For his sake and the sake of the refugees waiting on the border, she hoped that the demonstrations in the streets and the entire episode could end peacefully before the coronation ceremony.
“Anton’s working on it.”
When they arrived at the palace, Ira met them at the gate. “Sir, we cannot find Mrs. Belosova.”
Beside her Nicholas tensed, his voice hardened. “Place additional guards around Ms. Allen. She is not to go anywhere alone until we locate and detain Natalie.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Ericka didn’t protest. In truth, she’d be grateful for the extra protection. “I thought Natalie was here at the palace?”
“She checked in,” Ira informed them as they walked toward Ericka’s private quarters, “an hour ago. We’ve combed the grounds and the public areas, and we’ve done a complete sweep of the suites. We haven’t located her yet.”
“She didn’t check out?” Nicholas asked.
“No, Your Majesty.”
An aide hustled around a corner and veered straight for Nicholas. “Your Highness, you’ve an urgent phone call from the secretary of state. Negotiations are breaking down.”
Nicholas nodded. “I’ll take the call in my office. Ask him to hold.”
He turned to Ericka, calm, his eyes dark with worry. He removed from his jacket pocket the gun that the guards had given him earlier at the general’s house and pressed it into her hand. “Do you know how to use this?”
Her mouth went dry. “No.”
“Ira, give her a quick lesson. Post guards around her quarters, doors and windows. I want her safe.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Nicholas pulled her close for an embrace and kissed her hard on the mouth, tension in every muscle of his body. “I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”
Before she could even relax against him, he released her, leaving her very alone, her heart beating much too quickly. He headed toward his office, and she had the horrible feeling she might never see him again.
Get a grip. She’d never had a premonition that had come true in her entire life. Nicholas would be fine and so would she.
Ira gently took the gun from her hand. He flicked a little switch on the gun. “This is the safety. I’ve released it. That means if you pull the trigger, the gun will fire. You have six bullets.”
“Shouldn’t we put the safety back on?” Ericka asked.
The fierce man spoke gently. “I don’t want you fumbling with an unfamiliar weapon at a crucial time. All you need to do, is identify your target, point and shoot.”
He offered her the gun, and she took it reluctantly, careful not to touch the trigger. As if sensing her distaste, he assured her, “It’s only a precaution. We’ll search your suite top to bottom before we let you go in. After you’re safely inside, my men will guard the perimeter. We’ll be within shouting distance at every moment. You’ll be fine.”
She didn’t feel fine. Natalie might be trying to kill her. Natalie, who knew the layout of the palace as well as Nicholas. The woman had already made one trip to Ericka’s suite. Had she been there to check out the layout before Ericka returned? Or perhaps Natalie had already planted another bomb there?
“Ira, I’d like to pick up my computer and then work in Nicholas’ quarters. Why go where—”
“Natalie expects to find you?”
“Exactly,” she said with more determination than she felt. The tension raked her until she wanted to hit someone, run somewhere, scream. But there was no enemy to strike or evade.
Every minute she waited to enter her suite while Ira’s men searched seemed like days. Finally, they allowed her to enter. She gathered up a notebook and her laptop and the still unopened publishing contract. Minutes later, they performed another time-consuming search of Nicholas’ quarters before finally allowing her to go inside.
Placing her laptop on a desk, she plugged it in, hoping work would take her mind off the waiting. The publishing contract called to her and she picked it up, then read it.
Excitement and fear warred with each other. On one hand she wanted to call her boss, drink champagne and celebrate. On the other, she trembled at the huge task of writing an entire book. Two books. Up until now, she’d only written newspaper articles. A book was a different animal, complex, with plots and characters and twists and turns. She should be eager to start.
The advance with its six zeros was enough to assure her financial security for the rest of her life, even if she never sold another book. And suddenly she realized that while this money had been her ultimate goal, it represented much more than the ability to purchase whatever she liked. The money allowed her the freedom to choose how she worked, where she worked, or if she worked ever again. Marrying Nicholas and spending his money wouldn’t be the same as earning her own way. If she accepted, this contract would give her choices she’d never expected to have.
So why did she feel as if Nicholas had pulled the rug out from under her? He’d helped to make her independently wealthy. She should be delighted about reaching a long-term goal much, much sooner than she’d
ever expected.
Now that the opportunity was in her hands, she should be dancing. Instead she felt a huge sob welling up in her chest.
Idiot.
She felt as if she were mourning the person she had once been—and not quite ready to tackle the difficult job of growing into the woman she would become. That she loved Nicholas she had no doubt—but was that enough? She could give up her journalism career and write these books—but then what? She’d always had something to strive for and now she felt at a loss. She had no idea what she wanted and felt like a fool.
Any sane woman would be ecstatic about marrying Nicholas, even if he weren’t the king. Yet, contemplating marriage to him, becoming a queen, took courage she wasn’t sure she had. She had no clue as to what her new life would be like. Suppose she failed at it? Suppose she hated it?
Until now, she’d only been responsible for herself. If she accepted Nicholas’ proposal, she would be included in a large family, his inner circle, his kingdom. She didn’t suppose she could buy a book on the Idiot’s Guide to Being a Queen.
And yet, what could be a greater challenge than helping Nicholas? From what she’d seen of this country so far, there was so much work to be done, she could choose her own direction. The thought was both scary and exhilarating.
She wanted children someday and Nicholas already doted on his little brothers. He’d be a wonderful father. Possibilities opened before her and she realized she had nothing to fear. Changes were scary, but they could be good changes.
She’d have to think about her future some more, give the numerous possibilities much more consideration, but right now, she needed to complete her current assignment. Needed to write down her thoughts about the meeting with the general. Besides, she knew no better way to settle her mind than to work.
She placed the gun next to her on the desk within easy reach and opened her computer screen.
Royal Target Page 17
