Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1

by Freethy, Barbara

  "Only one way to find out."

  She stood up. "I'll tell Elena to get dressed."

  * * *

  Julia felt nervous and edgy as they drove into the three-story parking garage next to the downtown bank where Brady had told them to meet. She couldn't believe they were finally nearing the end of their search. Soon she would know exactly why someone was after her. She glanced over her shoulder as they entered the garage, wondering if anyone had followed them here to the nation's capital. But there was no one behind them.

  Alex parked the car, and they took a moment to glance around. The parking garage was shadowy and half-full, probably because it was Saturday. A car pulled in next to them. Julia stiffened, then relaxed when she saw Brady get out of the car.

  "You must be Elena," he said as they gathered together.

  "Yes," she said tentatively. "And you're?"

  "Daniel Brady." He turned to Julia. "Did you bring the key?"

  "I have it," Julia said.

  "Good. The bank account was set up in your names," Brady added as they walked toward the bank. "Yulia and Elena Markov. I've already spoken to the bank manager and circumvented some red tape to get into the account."

  "How did you do that?" Alex asked sharply.

  "Let's just say I have friends in high places. At any rate, there is five hundred and twenty-seven thousand dollars in cash in the account."

  Julia's jaw dropped. "How did my parents get that much money?"

  Brady shrugged. "I'm sure they had their ways. The bank account has been paying off the rent on the safe-deposit box, which is why it wasn't closed in the past twenty-five years."

  "What's in the box?" Elena asked.

  "I'm hoping there might be something in there to tell us who killed your parents," Brady replied.

  His answer surprised Julia. She hadn't considered that possibility. "Do you think our parents knew who set that bomb in their house?"

  Brady's eyes narrowed. "I see Charles gave you the whole story."

  "He thought I deserved to know." Julia lifted her chin, looking Brady straight in the eye. "And he was right. So I'll ask you again: Do you think our parents knew who killed them?"

  "Your father certainly knew he had enemies in his own party. They were watching him. Love can make a man stupid. They suspected he was softening because of his love for your mother. He had to leave Russia, and we wanted to get him out. But they got there first. With any luck, your father may have left us a clue as to who set that bomb." Brady opened the door to the bank. "After you."

  Julia stepped into the cool quiet of the bank. There were only a few people working: two tellers, a loan officer, and the manager, who came out of her office when she saw them.

  After preliminary introductions, she said, "I've arranged for a cashier's check as you directed, Mr. Brady. It will be ready momentarily."

  "Good. Now we'd like to take a look at the safe-deposit box," Brady said.

  The manager took them over to the vault area where the boxes were located. She asked both Elena and Julia to sign in, then escorted them all into the room where Julia inserted the key into the lock. Her anxiety made her fumble, but eventually the lock turned.

  The manager pulled out the box and set it on the table. "I'll leave you to it."

  Julia looked to Elena for guidance. "Do you want to—"

  "Go ahead," Elena said. "You know more about this than I do."

  Julia drew in a deep breath and looked into the open box. There was a white business-size envelope with their names, Yulia and Elena, scrawled across the top. She didn't stop to open it, setting it aside for the moment. A large manila envelope came next. It was filled with scraps of paper that were yellowed with age and scribbled upon with blue and black ink. It took Julia a moment to realize that the notations were musical scores. She wondered if they had been composed by her great-grandfather. She wanted to linger, but everyone was waiting.

  "Keep going," Alex urged. "You can figure out the music later."

  The final object in the box was a Russian icon, a framed picture of St. George about five by seven inches in size. Julia remembered it hanging over the doorway in her parents' bedroom. In fact, they'd had icons all over the house. For good luck, her mother had told her. Some luck the icons had brought them.

  "That's it," she said. "A letter, musical scores, and a picture." She felt disappointed. "I don't know what I was expecting, but..." She glanced down at the musical scores again. "Wait. If these scores were written by our great-grandfather before the revolution, they could be worth a fortune."

  "Really?" Elena asked. "Who was our great-grandfather?"

  "A famous composer, Ivan Slovinsky. He ran to Paris during the revolution. He lived in exile there for the rest of his life," Julia explained. "Our parents must have believed the scores would be worth enough to set them up in a new life." She looked down at the letter. "I guess we should read this."

  "Save it for later," Brady suggested. "Let's get your check and get out of here."

  Julia picked up the envelopes and the picture, and they left the room. The bank manager asked Brady to sign a form, then handed them a check closing the account.

  "Why are we withdrawing the money?" Alex asked, as they made their way toward the front door. "This is a bank. Seems like a good place to keep it."

  "I assume the girls will want to split it up," Brady replied. "If they tried to get the money on their own, they'd need a lot of forms and new identification. I thought I'd make it easier for them. It's the least I can do." He paused, turning his gaze on Julia. "I do want to take a look at that letter just in case there's anything in there to lead us to the people who killed your parents. May I suggest that we go to one of our safe houses so that we can all feel comfortable and secure? It's not far from here."

  Julia glanced at Alex, who shrugged in agreement. She turned to Elena. "Is that okay with you?"

  "Whatever you think is best," Elena replied. "I'll leave it up to you."

  "We'll follow you," Alex said, as they entered the parking lot.

  "I think the girls should come with me," Brady said. "So I can protect them."

  "I can do that, too." The air between Brady and Alex suddenly sizzled as the two men seemed immensely irritated with each other. "I'll take Elena and Julia. We'll follow you to the safe house," Alex repeated, "and we'll keep the letter and everything else with us."

  Brady looked as if he wanted to argue, then forced a tight smile. "All right. We'll play it your way... for now."

  Julia didn't like the tone of Brady's voice. Was there something else he hadn't told them? She'd thought it was over. They'd found the safe-deposit box. She had the contents in her bag. Everything that had belonged to her parents was now in her possession. She should be feeling happy, not tense or worried, but she couldn't stop the uneasiness sweeping through her. The tiny hairs at the back of her neck prickled as they walked farther into the dark shadows of the garage, which seemed more menacing now than before.

  She wished someone else would come into the garage or a car would drive by. It was too quiet—eerily quiet. The only sounds came from their feet hitting the pavement—four pairs of feet. Or was that five?

  Julia took a quick glance behind her. She sensed someone was watching them.

  She must have paused, because Brady put his hand under her elbow. "Keep walking," he said in a low voice.

  She wanted to pull her arm away from him, but he had a tight grip on her. "Hey," she protested.

  "I want to get out of here fast," he muttered. His tension seemed as palpable as her own, and that made her more fearful.

  "Alex." She didn't know what she wanted to ask him, but she needed him closer to her. But Alex was on the other side of Brady, a good five feet away.

  Suddenly, a man came out from between two cars. It was the same man Julia had seen at the radio station and probably the same man who had tried to grab her purse on Union Street. Up close, he was even bigger than she remembered, with a square, angry face an
d wild eyes. He began to move forward. She tried to back up, but Brady still had a hold on her arm.

  "Get in my car," Brady said to Julia, flipping the locks open on his vehicle, which was closer than Elena's car.

  "Don't move," the man said in a thick Russian accent. He reached into his coat pocket.

  "He's got a gun!" Brady yelled.

  Julia gasped in horror as Alex tackled the man around the knees and toppled him to the ground. "Do something!" she cried.

  "Get in the car," Brady repeated, shoving her onto the front seat. He grabbed Elena next and pushed her into the back, then jumped behind the wheel and gunned the engine. He peeled out of the parking lot, leaving Alex and the Russian fighting for the weapon.

  "Stop!" Julia yelled. "We can't leave Alex on his own."

  "He's already got the gun," Brady said, looking in the rearview mirror. "Don't worry, Julia. Alex can handle it. I've got to get you out of here." He pulled out his cell phone, punched in a number, and barked into the phone that he needed backup at the Hastings Street Garage.

  Julia's stomach churned. She looked back at Elena, whose face was white with fear. God, she hoped Alex was okay. She knew he was tough and fearless, but how could he fight a gun? They shouldn't have run. They should have stayed to help. "We have to go back," she said again. "We need to make sure Alex is all right. Please, turn the car around."

  "Alex would want me to get you to safety," Brady said. "He knows help is on the way. He'll be fine. Trust me."

  "If help is on the way, then we'll be safe there, too," she argued.

  "I don't know how many more men are in the garage."

  Julia thought about the two men who'd followed them to St. Helena. Maybe there were more people involved. But who were they? And if there were more of them in the garage, then Alex was definitely in trouble.

  "I demand that you turn this car around."

  He ignored her.

  "Please," Elena muttered from the backseat. "Please, do what she asks."

  Brady tossed Julia a look that told her he was going to do exactly what he wanted. "I know what I'm doing. I've been in these situations many times before."

  She supposed that was true, but it still didn't make her feel better. Her instincts were screaming in protest, her gut telling her something was terribly wrong.

  "We need to look at that letter," Brady continued. "You may have incriminating evidence in your bag. We can't allow it to fall into the wrong hands. It might threaten not only your own security, but that of others in our government as well."

  His serious words reminded Julia that this mystery had begun a world away. She wondered if the letter from her parents would finally answer all of her questions.

  "We're almost there," Brady said as she began to open her purse. "Hang on." He spun around a corner on two wheels, the tires squealing in protest.

  Julia's heart leapt into her throat as Brady dodged in and out of traffic. She hoped Brady wouldn't kill them on the way to saving their lives. Five minutes later they were heading out of the city, across the Potomac and into a residential neighborhood. In fact, the area was almost rural, with lots of space and land, with a house every quarter mile. Julia had no idea where they were. Finally, Brady pulled into the driveway of a modest one-story home that was set apart from its neighbors by tall trees on each side of the property. "Inside," he said, looking around as he escorted them into the house. Julia barely had time to see the living room before Brady pushed them into a back bedroom. "Safest place in the house," he said.

  When they were all in the bedroom, Julia finally let herself breathe. They were safe, at least for the moment. That security hadn't registered with Elena, whose blue eyes were dark and worried. Her skin was pale, and beads of sweat lined her forehead. Elena was probably even more confused than Julia. Her sister hadn't spent the past week running from some sinister force the way Julia had.

  She turned to Brady, suddenly aware that he had taken the contents of the safe-deposit box out of her bag. The letter he'd expressed interest in had been tossed onto the bed. Brady was now fiddling with the frame on the Icon.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  He didn't answer her. Instead, he produced a small screwdriver and took the frame apart. His eyes lit up as he pulled out a dark red stone that caught the sunlight. A ruby?

  Julia had the sudden feeling the surprises weren't over yet. "Oh, my God! Is that real?"

  "Oh, yeah," he muttered.

  The ruby was followed by another huge stone, then another, until there were six in all: an opal, a diamond, two sapphires, two rubies—a fortune in jewels.

  "I knew it," he said in satisfaction. "I knew they were in there."

  "What do you mean, you knew they were there? Where did they come from?" Julia demanded.

  For a moment it didn't appear that he would answer her; then he shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter if you know. The jewels belonged to your great-grandmother. She was a favorite with the Imperial Court. She received one perfect stone after each performance and had them sewn into her costumes. Then the revolution swept across Russia. The costumes disappeared. Tamara claimed they'd been stolen, but it was rumored that she'd hidden them away." His smile grew smug as he faced Julia. "Your mother told me about them one night. She said they could be used to buy her family's freedom. How could I resist an offer like that?" He glanced down at the stones. "I've waited twenty-five years to hold these babies," he muttered, closing his fist around the stones. "They're finally mine."

  "Yours? They're ours," Julia corrected.

  "I don't think so."

  Julia looked into his cold, dark eyes and saw the truth. Brady had been in Russia at the time of the defection. He knew about her parents. He knew about the jewels. He'd probably worked both sides. He hadn't wanted to help her parents defect; he'd wanted to get the treasure. She swallowed hard, realizing where her thoughts were taking her. She was probably staring at the man who'd set a trap for her parents. "It was you, wasn't it?" she asked, the words escaping from her lips before she could consider the wisdom of saying them. "You're the one who killed my parents."

  "They double-crossed me," he said flatly. "They set me up to think I already had the jewels in my possession. It was their ticket to freedom, but they gave me fakes. They deserved what they got."

  "They didn't deserve to die," she protested, pain and anger filling her soul at his callous disregard for their lives.

  He shrugged. "It had to be done. I couldn't let them leave the country with the jewels."

  His coldness, his complete lack of conscience, was now starkly evident. How could Julia have missed it before? How could she and Alex have been taken in by his offers to help? That answer was obvious now, too. They'd trusted Brady because Charles and Stan trusted him. Did the other two know of his duplicity, or had they been conned as well?

  "Did anyone ever suspect you?" she asked.

  "Of course not," he said in a cocky tone. "I was too clever. The Russians thought the Americans had done it. The Americans believed the Russians had done it. No one ever knew it was me. And no one ever will." He pulled a gun out of his jacket and pointed it at her.

  Elena gasped. "No!"

  Julia began to shake. She'd never been this close to a real gun before. It was terrifying, but if she was going to die, she had to know the rest. "Why?" she asked. "Why did you kill them? Why didn't you just steal the jewels and disappear?"

  "I couldn't take the chance that I would be discovered," he said smoothly. "I told them it was the perfect plan. They give me the jewels. I get them out of the country. Only the real plan was they give me the jewels; then they die." His expression turned ugly, his mouth curving with anger and disgust. "But they tricked me. They gave me fakes. I didn't find out until after they were dead. I thought you were all dead. I thought the game was over. Then a little photograph appeared in a magazine, and I knew there was still a chance the jewels had gotten out with you and your sister. It just took until now to find them, but they're
mine now. And it's over. It's all over."

  "Why didn't you come after us before?" Julia asked. "Why wait until now?"

  "You were hidden away by the time I got to the States. I found Elena." He tipped his head toward her sister, who was shivering so hard Julia could hear her teeth rattling. "I went through her stuff. I saw the dolls, the necklace, but she had nothing else. I thought that you must have it all—that Sarah had taken the treasure, that she was the one who'd outsmarted me. But she'd covered her tracks so well, I couldn't find her."

  So her mother had saved her life.

  "Sarah didn't know what she had, did she?" he asked.

  "I have no idea what she knew," Julia retorted. "But she had me. That's all she wanted."

  "She always did think small."

  "Don't say that," Julia told him angrily. "You don't know anything about her."

  "And I don't care," Brady replied. "This conversation is done. I'm going to finish what I started. Give me your purses. You won't be calling anyone for help. Put them on the ground and push 'em over here."

  Julia didn't want to obey, but he had a gun, and she couldn't think what else to do. She put her handbag on the ground and kicked it toward him, wondering how on earth they could get out of this situation alive. She tried to reassure Elena with her eyes, but Elena wasn't stupid. She knew they were in big trouble. Now Julia was glad that Alex wasn't with them. Maybe he'd survive if she didn't. The thought was terrifying. She didn't want to die, not now, not when she finally knew who she was and what she wanted.

  Brady tossed their purses through the open door, his eyes focused on the two women as he backed away. "Think of it like this—at least you'll go together, and it will be quick. Over in a flash," he said with a cruel smile.

  Julia's heart began to beat double-time. Her parents had been killed by a bomb going off in their house. Was that what Brady had planned for them? Was he going to blow up this house with them in it?

  * * *

  "You must listen," the man pleaded.