Snowbound With The Secret Agent (Silver Valley P.D. Book 7)

by Geri Krotow

  “Good morning. I’m guessing your exhaustion isn’t from a long night of knitting?” Portia was pretty certain Annie only helped at her grandmother’s yarn shop on an as-needed basis, on the weekends or evenings. And she wouldn’t be working there while the ROC case was ongoing.

  Annie offered a smile. “And you would be correct. I was at the station most of the night, helping Josh and Kyle put together a tactical team.”

  Portia’s concern ratcheted to alarm. Her lungs struggled to grab a breath and her heart felt as though it needed every ounce of energy she had to beat. “Kyle—is he okay? Are they safe, Annie?”

  Annie helped herself to a cup of coffee. “They’re fine, but the train is due in tonight. Anytime between 7:00 and 9:00 p.m. It made good time after it resumed its trip north, once the storm here cleared.”

  “Okay, so by the end of tonight, this will all be over?”

  Annie slung into a kitchen chair at a large family table. Josh hadn’t completely revamped his childhood home, saving sentimental pieces like his parents’ kitchen table. He’d lost them both tragically in an auto accident and had singlehandedly raised his sister.

  “That’s the tough thing, Portia. This case isn’t going to be over until the ringleader, the head of the East Coast ROC operations, is caught. And hopefully he’ll turn, give us the information we need to eradicate the entire network of criminals.”

  “Ivanov.” She’d read about the man, the swath of crime and murderous devastation he’d cut across the Eastern Seaboard, and now he was digging his claws in deeper, heading toward the Midwest.

  “Yes. Did Kyle tell you?”

  “Not that much, actually. I’ve read up on ROC since I saw the news about their connection to the heroin trade. Right after Lani died.”

  Annie grimaced. Lani had been Annie’s classmate, too. “That hit home, didn’t it? Have you heard how her family is doing?”

  “I spoke with them before the storm, before I met, got involved with, oh, what’s the use? Before Kyle.”

  “And? How were they doing?” Annie wasn’t going to put up with Portia’s self-pity and she loved her friend all the more for understanding her and not giving her less attractive character traits any time.

  “As well as can be expected. As you know from your line of work, better than I, it’ll take time. They’ve thrown themselves into legislative activism, hoping to get the laws changed.”

  “Just when we think we’ve handled it from every angle, the opioid epidemic slams us back down.” Annie peeled a banana. “There’s so much to it. But if LEA does its job, it’ll help a lot. Keep the drugs off the streets.”

  “I’ve thanked you before, Annie, but I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate your, and Josh’s, service. It has to be stressful on you both when you’re working a case like this.”

  “As the TH and SVPD police psychologist, my job is mostly taking care of the agents and officers, making sure they’re getting the practical support they require from their agency. It’s a measure of how big this ROC case is that I’m doing as much as I am with the actual tactical operations. I never worked on ops like this when I was with NYPD.”

  “Was it a hugely hard decision to move back here? I know you loved New York.”

  “Not at all. I was in the process of figuring out I wanted out of the city, and then Josh came along. Yes, I love New York but I love Josh more. And what’s not to like about Silver Valley? We’re only fifteen minutes from the Harrisburg Amtrak, three hours from the city. Two from Philly. And two hours to DC, driving. We live in an ideal place.”

  “We do.”

  “And that’s why we’re going to stomp ROC right out of here.”

  “I’ll be at the gala all night, but can you keep me informed?” There were two sets of SVPD patrols assigned to monitor the gala, along with a private security firm, but Portia didn’t expect them to be in on all the details of the case.

  “Of course I will. I’ll be at the gala, too. There won’t be anything for me to do during the actual takedown. Claudia and Colt don’t allow me near active ops for either TH or SVPD if they can help it. I need to be available afterward, fully functioning to help whomever needs it.”

  Kyle stood off from the group of SVPD, FBI and Trail Hiker colleagues who were spread out inconspicuously over a two-mile length of train track that ran straight through the heart of Silver Valley. Their intention was to stop the train at the juncture where the rail curved off and into the part of town where he’d saved Portia from being hit.

  “You ready, Kyle?” Claudia’s voice reached him on his wireless headset.

  “Standing by.”

  “Train is one mile out.” Another TH agent, this one working communications, sounded in his ear. Months of investigation and intelligence analysis, countless frozen nights of surveillance, and more than one hand-to-hand altercation with Markova had led to this. He’d have preferred it was during broad daylight, but the train had been delayed by the storm and they had to work with what was, not wish for a better situation.

  As a former Marine and present Trail Hiker, he had every confidence in his ability to complete his mission.

  If only he had that with Portia.

  He’d stopped trying to fight the visions of her that taunted him day and night. He missed her—not just the sex, and yes, he missed that beyond measure. Portia understood him, accepted him for the man he was. She’d made love to him knowing he couldn’t offer her any promise beyond their short time together. And she’d fought alongside him as needed, readily took instruction in weapons and how to avoid getting killed by Markova.

  He looked at his watch. Eight fifteen in the evening and it was pitch dark, in the middle of winter. Portia was at the gala she’d so carefully planned. It was the one thing he was grateful for, that she’d be safe and Markova’s focus was on the incoming shipment. Still, he hadn’t stopped himself from putting on his oversize tuxedo over his body armor, under his plainclothes, also a size too big. He’d used the tux as an undercover agent in various situations, including embassy receptions all over the globe. But tonight, if by some act of God the mission went down more quickly than they’d planned, he’d show up at that gala and...

  This is where he was stuck. What would he do? Ask Portia for one last night together before he went out west? Or would he ask for one dance, say goodbye that way?

  “Lights.” He looked down the track and saw the tiny pinpoint of the engine’s headlight. Inhaling the frozen air, he silently practiced his role. The engineer had been replaced by an undercover agent, who would stop the train along this stretch of track to allow for the various LEA officers to board and inspect. Once they found the heroin and any other unknown contraband, they’d replace it with artificial, harmless substances. Then they’d move quickly to be in place where they suspected Markova waited. Where he knew she waited—he’d verified she was in the area just fifteen minutes ago, before he’d driven down here. He wondered if she thought she’d lost him as her tail.

  “A quarter mile to go, folks. Stand by.”

  Kyle waited, wanting the night to be over without incident more than ever before, and knowing in the deepest part of his being that his best course of action was to complete the mission and get out of Silver Valley. Before he risked hurting Portia more than he knew he already had.

  Portia entered the catering barn she’d rented on behalf of the gala committee a year ago and actually had a moment of feeling like a princess. Her sparkling ruby-red halter gown was a far cry from the more practical wardrobe she relied on working in the library, and at the homeless shelter many evenings. She’d splurged on dangling rhinestone earrings and a matching bracelet.

  The historical barn had been converted into a remarkable venue, complete with a parquet dance floor, which was large enough for most of the several hundred guests in attendance. It was early yet; the main rush of attendees would begin
in forty-five minutes or so.

  Satisfaction curled in her belly as she eyed the dozens of round dinner tables, set with the signature Silver Valley colors of forest green, representing the Appalachian Mountains, and a deep agate blue that mirrored the blue shadows of the range from downtown. Gold candles floated in cylindrical vases, imbuing the room with a sense of rich anticipation. Swaths of pale blue muslin reached from the high ceiling and half dozen chandeliers, draping around wrought-iron frames to the floor below.

  “What do you think?” Coral Stauffer, the woman who’d bought the barn a few years ago after returning to her hometown after a disastrous divorce from another Silver Valley native she’d happened to meet in California, stood next to her.

  “It’s spectacular, Coral! I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Aw, honey, you did the hard work. My team put it together like we do for all the other events. Although this is the biggest of the year for us.” Coral’s bright sapphire-blue eyes reflected deeper emotion than expected for a charity event, but Portia didn’t push her school friend. Like Annie, they’d known one another for years and she knew not to push Coral for details on the life she’d had in Southern California before returning to Silver Valley.

  “You have been so patient with me.”

  “You’re the expert, Portia. Everyone raves about how nice these evenings are.”

  “And this will be the biggest and best yet.” She held up her hand, fingers crossed.

  “No luck needed. Your hard work has paid off.” Coral rubbed her bare shoulders. She too was in an evening gown, but one that was much more sedate than Portia’s, as it was black and had a simple yet elegant high crew neck. “The storm’s gone in time, thank goodness, but I’m going to turn the heat up until the room fills up.”

  “Do you miss it? The warmer weather in California?” The question came out of her without bidding and she wanted to bite her tongue. And not just from the obvious discomfort she’d brought to Coral, who bit her lower lip. Why was she torturing herself with her obsession over going to California with Kyle? He’d never indicated he wanted her to go with him there.

  “I miss some of my friends that I made. I was there for almost ten years, as you know. College and after. But it was the right decision to come back to Silver Valley. Speaking of which, I read in the paper today that you’ve been through quite a bit lately, with some person stealing laptops from the library, and then you almost got hit on the train tracks? You never mentioned it, even with all the work we’ve done together.”

  Portia knew when to play it lightly. “I happened to be in the wrong place at some of the right times for a criminal to show up. That’s all.” Her stomach tightened as fierce, protective instincts for the TH and SVPD ops against ROC roared. Who was she kidding, though? It was the only way she could be a part of Kyle’s world now. Maintain the confidentiality of the takedown op. Which according to Josh, would have already happened, about an hour ago. She hadn’t heard the contrary from Annie and she’d know in about two hours, depending on whether or not they showed up to the gala.

  “I have a sneaking suspicion you’re playing it far too cool, but we don’t have time to talk now. I’m going to turn the heat up and then head for the kitchens. Is there anything you need from me now?”

  “No, thanks, Coral. I’ll do a quick look-over of the silent auction items.” She walked in the opposite direction of Coral, across the dance floor, conscious of her very high strappy silver heels. When was the last time she’d taken such care with her appearance? And why hadn’t she ever thought to get made-up for Kyle?

  Because they’d been too busy running from a lethal threat or making love.

  There, she’d admitted it. It had been making love with Kyle, all of it. She blinked back tears, grateful she’d picked her tube of waterproof mascara. But this was the gala, not a funeral. Lifting her chin and throwing her very chilly shoulders back, she kept going. As she looked at her hands, a huge cocktail ring winked from her right, while her left hand was bare. And would remain so, and that was okay.

  It was ridiculous to even think she’d been that close to something big with Kyle. And even after Annie’s prompting, she’d decided to be brave and...let Kyle go. She’d pursued Rob and thought she’d successfully landed a good partner, only to be proved wrong, ruefully so. What she’d shared with Kyle had been powerful and she wasn’t going to demean it by trying to make it into something it wasn’t: permanent.

  But as she checked out the tables laden with item after item for the silent auction, in the room off the main dance and dinner area, her heart’s whispers haunted her.

  Chapter 19

  “That was fast, even for TH,” said the agent, Benjamin Michaels, who was sitting next to Kyle, whom he was shadowing.

  “Don’t count on it. The next part is going to be the trickiest. Ready?” Kyle motioned for Ben to follow him and they got to Kyle’s vehicle in minutes. Within five more minutes, they were parked in the diner lot, which ran right up to the train tracks. Intel indicated the meeting of the ROC dealers would be in this spot. SVPD would handle the apprehensions, of which they expected at least a dozen. One for every car that they’d found the heroin stashed in.

  “Do you think it’s all heroin, or is some of it fentanyl?”

  “Both the SVPD and FBI substance experts called it half-and-half on the spot.”

  “Which means it would have for sure been a death sentence. For how many?”

  “Too many.” Kyle’s resolve strengthened. It was good to have a partner to talk to, in the moment. Not that it kept all thoughts of Portia out of his mind, but it did help him keep his A-game going during such a long day and night.

  “Look, on the other side of the tracks.” As Ben pointed out the five people, all dressed for the weather and with ski masks, Claudia’s voice sounded in their headsets.

  “We’ve got affirmative sighting of fifteen possible ROC.”

  Fifteen? He scanned the other side but the train pulled into view, and even though it moved very slowly, unlike the day he’d had to shove Portia off the track, it wasn’t slow enough. Their view of the probable ROC operatives was blocked by the cargo containers.

  They waited for the train to stop, as it often did to allow for the track to be switched to allow the cars to continue to the myriad distribution centers on the other side of town.

  “We’ve got to get to other side of the tracks.” Kyle was used to a case coming together at the very end, and knew that they were racing against Markova’s clock. “Markova won’t be here—she’ll hang out where more civilians are. It’s how she’s blended in and disappeared from so many crimes before.”

  “I’m with you, Kyle.” Ben’s complete trust in his deduction gave Kyle pause. Another first. Usually he accepted professional respect as another part of the job, just as he gave it to his colleagues. But he’d discovered a new meaning to the word, since meeting Portia.

  She’d trusted him to keep her alive.

  “Let’s go.” He drove the vehicle out of the diner lot and headed for the closest cross street behind the train.

  * * *

  “You’ve done such a lovely job here, Portia.” The mayor of Silver Valley shook her hand and she smiled at her.

  “Thank you so much! It wouldn’t have happened without the support of your office and the Rotary Club.” She held her hand out to the woman standing with the mayor, her wife, and thanked her, too. “The community’s really come together for this. Did you have a chance to look at all of the silent auction items?”

  “Yes, and I’m afraid we may have bid on too many.” The mayor cast a mock disparaging look at her spouse. “Why, exactly, did we bid on a fishing trip?”

  “It’s a perfect gift for your father.” The mayor’s wife responded with a smile and Portia thanked them for their support. If everyone present had bid as much as these two, they were bound to make a record a
mount tonight. Good for the library, wonderful for the homeless shelter.

  “Enjoy the night. The dancing is about to start.” She left the couple and continued to work the room, making sure to thank everyone who’d helped her put the event together. It was really almost everyone in the room.

  As she walked from group to group, table to table, couple to couple, she received many compliments for the event, the silent auction items, even her dress. She knew it was pure immaturity that her disappointment was like that of a spoiled child’s. But she couldn’t help it. She’d hoped Kyle would be here, see her as the woman he’d helped her become. There were transition points in life, clear markers where she’d gone from her comfort zone to who she was meant to be. Kyle had been alongside her for this most recent, most important one. Portia had transitioned from someone content with her status quo, pouring her energy into what her town and its library patrons needed, to a woman who wanted what was best for herself.

  Her big problem now was that Kyle didn’t think what she wanted was viable. She wanted him.

  * * *

  Kyle looked at his watch for the hundredth time that night. Nine thirty-three. Portia would be announcing the last time allowed for the silent auction bids. He knew because he’d read her paperwork, proofed the program for her, at her request. She’d been all doe-eyed and hopeful when she’d approached him to help her out with the planning. But he knew better. She’d seen that he was bored, once they’d figured out ROC’s shipping plans. It had helped the time pass more quickly, as had their lovemaking.

  Actions that could have led to her death. He knew he’d never forgive himself for letting Markova get that close to Portia, but he could make a difference now by apprehending Markova the minute she showed up to coordinate the offload.

  Kyle and Ben observed from the parking lot of the train station as the train pulled to a stop a full half mile before it was supposed to. It was extremely unusual for a cargo train to pull in at the local, or any, passenger terminal. But not for a shipment that had ROC’s backing. Claudia’s briefing before they’d prepared to come down here tonight put all the pieces together. ROC had spent almost a million dollars bribing the train conductors along the route from the southern border, where the original shipment of heroin had occurred, to each waypoint where yet another container was loaded with whatever the shipment was, en route to central Pennsylvania.