Hidden in the Stars

by Robin Caroll

  Almost as much as she liked being around Julian Frazier.

  * * *

  “They got him!” Brody exploded into the room. “They’re bringing Dimitri in now.”

  Julian smiled. Now the fun would begin. So far Boris had remained silent, not giving up his brother. But now with Dimitri on his way . . .

  “Come on, let’s go let Boris know his brother will be here shortly.”

  Brody followed him to the interrogation room. Julian took his customary seat opposite Boris while Brody hulked against the wall near the corner.

  “Thought you might like to know Dimitri is on his way here, Boris.”

  For a split-second, Boris’s guard came down allowing Julian to see the wariness in his face. A second later, the stony expression was back in place.

  Julian would use it. “You know, we have enough forensic evidence to bury you for Nina Montgomery and Alena Borin’s murders. Combined with Sophia’s testimony of the assault, you’ll be lucky not to get the death penalty.”

  Boris blinked three times in rapid succession.

  Yeah, he had his attention now. Julian continued. “Both myself and Detective Alexander heard what you said to Alena, Charlie, and Sophia. We’re witnesses to your statement that Dimitri is involved.” He turned and nodded at Brody. “Can you remember the exact words?”

  Brody stepped out from the darker corner and took a seat beside Julian. “I do, Detective Frazier. I wanted to make sure I had it right in my statement. Boris here said, ‘Dimitri was clear. We are to kill them all and burn this place as well and it will all be over.’ ”

  Boris went to blinking again.

  Julian pounced. “So with your testimony, Dimitri will be charged. His own brother will be responsible for incriminating Dimitri.” Julian propped his elbows up on the table. “Do you think he’ll be upset with you? Hmm.” He twisted to look at Brody. “Would you be mad at me if I ratted you out and you went to prison for a long, long time?”

  “I didn’t rat him out. You were eavesdropping.” Boris finally broke his silence.

  Inside, Julian cheered. Once communication started, the floodgates usually followed. “But Dimitri won’t know.” He smiled. “And we sure aren’t going to tell him any different, are we, Detective Alexander?”

  “Nope. Not me.”

  “You cannot do this. You cannot lie like that.”

  Julian grinned bigger. “Yes, we can. And we will.”

  “Unless you give us a statement. Tell us the whole story and we’ll tell the judge how you helped us,” Brody said.

  “I will not go to prison?”

  “Oh, you’re going to prison,” Julian said. He’d like nothing more than to beat him to a bloody pulp, but at least he’d make sure this creep went to prison for the rest of his life.

  “But maybe you won’t get the death penalty. And we can ask the judge to keep you in a different prison than your brother.”

  “To keep you safe.” Julian leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “The choice is yours, Boris, but only if you talk now. Dimitri will be here in a few minutes, and once he’s here, the offer is gone.”

  It took Boris all of three minutes to decide to sell out his brother. “I will tell you everything.”

  Julian turned on the recorder, and Brody stepped out to make sure Captain Pittman and another officer were in the observation room.

  “Okay, tell me about Nadia Paley’s murder.”

  Boris licked his lips. “Two nights before she came to Arkansas to perform, she met with my brother—”

  “Your brother, Dimitri Taras?”

  “Yes. Dimitri. She met with Dimitri and told him she was pregnant with his baby. She demanded he marry her. He told her to get rid of the baby and not to throw away her career like Nina Borin had.”

  Julian struggled to remain expressionless. They hadn’t known Nadia was pregnant.

  “She told him no and left. He was furious.”

  “I can imagine. After all, he’d seen Nina’s career die as soon as she quit dancing to have Sophia,” Brody said, egging Boris on.

  “Dimitri flew to Little Rock for her performance—”

  “But he wasn’t listed as being on the flight on the passenger list,” Julian interjected.

  “No, of course not. Dimitri was the co-pilot. No one on the plane saw him except for the pilot.”

  Sneaky. Very clever.

  “So he went to see Nadia . . .” Brody prompted.

  “Yes. He said her performance was the best ever. After the ballet, he snuck backstage where she had changed. He said her costume was on the back of a chair. They argued. He never meant to kill her, only make her either agree to get rid of the baby or make her lose it. She scratched his face then flung her costume at him. It hit him in the face. He said he remembered wiping the blood on her costume, then slamming it back on the chair.”

  Which explained how his blood droplets were on the costume.

  “He said he pushed her, and she fell backward, hitting her head on the chair and knocking it over as she fell,” Boris continued. “He said she died as soon as she hit the floor. He was going to clean it up, but he heard people in the hall, so he grabbed his coat and left.”

  Wow. Murder and escape. And he’d gotten away with it for sixteen years. Probably never would have gotten caught had it not been for the blackmail.

  Julian pushed him. “When did the blackmail start?”

  “About a year later. Dimitri received a letter instructing him to wire fifty thousand dollars every year to this same account. The letter told him they knew what he’d done and had proof. Said wouldn’t it be hard for him to explain how his blood got on Nadia’s costume she wore just before she was murdered. And it included the picture of the costume, with blood clearly on it.”

  Julian struggled with this one. Nina had obviously broken the law by blackmailing Dimitri, and if she were still alive, he’d be charging her. How would Sophia feel about it?

  Then again, if she were still alive, he probably wouldn’t know Sophia, so how she felt wouldn’t matter.

  The realization stung. He couldn’t imagine not knowing Sophia.

  “He paid the money, every November. He tried to trace the account, but the wire transfers were too complicated. He just resigned himself to pay fifty thousand dollars a year for the person’s silence. After more than a decade, he never doubted they would keep their word and not tell anyone.”

  “But it all changed?” Brody asked.

  Boris nodded. “In his mind, she was his true love. He wanted to keep tabs on her so he could swoop in and make her love him if he ever got the chance. One day, he gets the call her name is mentioned in a newspaper article. The investigators send it over. He is shocked and outraged when he sees the picture and recognizes the costume.”

  That did have to hurt. The woman you believed was your true love having blackmailed you for over seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

  “He is livid. Furious. Figured out she must have been at the ballet and saw what happened, then stole the costume to blackmail him. He calls me to take care of this for him. Of course, he is my brother, so I agree.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Julian stood. “You two go ahead. I’ll be back.” He stepped out of the room.

  Captain Pittman met him in the hallway. “Dimitri Taras is here.”

  20

  It’d been a long, long time since he’d been in a church.

  Well, Julian considered, it wasn’t a church, but a hospital chapel. Still he felt God’s presence here with him. Sitting in the front row, staring at the stained glass depiction of Jesus on the cross.

  “It’s me, God. Julian.” He groaned. As if God didn’t know who he was.

  He shook his head and tried again. “I wanted to thank you for watching over Sophia and Charlie. I was scared for the first time since Eli died.” Just saying his name aloud scraped against his heart.

  “I’m sorry for being mad at you about Eli, God. I was so h
urt he was gone. I lashed out at you because . . . well, because you’re God.” He smiled. Surely, God had a sense of humor. Seriously, look at porcupines . . . God had to have a sense of humor.

  “I didn’t even realize how much I loved Eli until he was gone. I had to blame somebody, and you were the easiest target. I’m so sorry.”

  A lump the size of Little Rock lodged in the back of his throat.

  “I’m sorry for a lot of things, but mostly . . . well, I’m sorry for trying to pretend You didn’t exist. I know denying You is one of the big sins. I’m so sorry, God. Please forgive me.”

  Tears built in his eyes.

  He ducked his head and closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry, God,” he whispered.

  Almost physically, Julian felt a warm wave shudder through his body. Without reason, he just knew everything was okay. It was okay. He was okay.

  “Julian?” the voice was like an angel’s.

  He stood and slowly turned, finding Sophia standing at the chapel’s entrance.

  * * *

  The way he stood in the light made him appear to glow.

  “Sophia?” He closed the distance between them. “What? How?”

  She lifted one of her fingers to his lips. “Shh. Brody told me where I might find you.” Her breath wouldn’t behave.

  “Your voice . . .”

  “Dr. Rhoads said I need to limit how much I talk for the next few days, but my vocal chords are fine. No permanent damage.”

  “I have so much I want to tell you . . . so much to share with you.” His smile went all the way to his eyes. “But first, I have to tell you, I think you are the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met, and I want to take my time getting to know you better, if you’ll let me.”

  She couldn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded.

  He wrapped his arms gently around her waist and drew her to him. Slowly, with his eyes never leaving hers, Julian leaned into her. She closed her eyes and felt the soft caress of his lips brushing against hers. Gentle, yet firm. Careful not to hurt her healing cut just above her lip, but thorough enough to spread heat all the way down to her toes.

  He pulled back, keeping his arms around her waist, just the space of a breath. His eyes locked onto hers, probing deep into her very soul.

  And in that exact moment, her heart danced from her chest to live in Julian Montgomery’s capable hands.

  Discussion Questions

  1. Sophia survived a most violent attack. Have you or someone you know been a victim of violence? Explain how you worked through the myriad emotions afterward.

  2. Nina kept Sophia away from Alena. Do you agree with her decision? Why or why not?

  3. Julian turned against God after his partner died. Has your faith ever been tested in such a way? Explain how you resolved your spiritual feelings.

  4. Losing her voice, Sophia had to rely on someone else to speak for her. Discuss how you would feel if your independence were restricted.

  5. Sophia’s dream was crushed when she was attacked. Have you ever had a dream taken from you? How did that make you feel? What did you do?

  6. Sophia and Nina shared memories over the quilt. Do you have a quilt that has some special significance to you? Please share.

  7. Alena and Nina both made sacrifices for their daughters. Discuss the different motivations for each mother’s actions. Discuss their similarities.

  8. For Alena and Nina, ballet was a vital part of their lives. For Sophia, that vital part was gymnastics. Do you have something that’s very near and dear to your heart? Do you share it with your family? Discuss ways to create something special with your family.

  9. Sophia’s family could be considered dysfunctional. Discuss how. Now come up with suggestions for how things could have been different. Share different scenarios and outcomes.

  10. Nina never reconciled with her mother, never forgave her. What does Scripture tell us about forgiveness? Discuss what particular Scripture on forgiveness speaks most to your heart. Explain why it does.

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  We hope you enjoyed Robin Caroll’s Hidden in the Stars, and that you’ll continue to read Abingdon’s Quilts of Love series. Here’s a sample of the next book in the series, Jodie Bailey’s Quilted by Christmas.

  1

  4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .” The small crowd’s voice rose in pitch and trembled with the chill as the lights flickered into life on the eighteen-foot tree in the small park in Hollings, North Carolina. Along Main Street, lampposts and white lights popped to life and bathed downtown in a warm glow.

  Taryn McKenna shoved her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat to keep from blowing on her fingers again. It only made them colder in the end. What global warming? It felt like every year was colder than the one before. The wind coming off the mountain tonight had a particular bite to it, like it had heard the same news as Taryn and wanted to make sure she felt it inside and out.

  “Have you seen him yet?” Her younger cousin Rachel leaned close and did her best to whisper, though over the small crowd it seemed more like a shout.

  Even Ethan, Rachel’s recently adopted thirteen-month-old son thought his mom’s voice was too loud. He pressed four chubby fingers against her mouth with a wet, “Shhh . . .”

  For a minute, Taryn forgot she was supposed to be vigilant. She arched an eyebrow so high she could almost feel it touch the knit cap she wore over her shoulder-length dark hair. “It’s pretty bad when the baby tells you to keep it down.”

  Rachel flicked honey-blonde hair over her shoulder and planted a smacky kiss on the little boy’s cheek, eliciting a high-pitched squeal. “Come on, Mr. Manners. Let’s go down to the fire station and see if we can find Daddy.” She headed off to walk the three blocks out of downtown. “And we’ll get Aunt Taryn out of the crowd before she can have an uncomfortable moment.”

  Taryn shoved her hands deeper in her pockets and planted her feet. After Rachel’s comment, she should stay right here and let Rachel make the trek back to find her EMT fiancé all by herself. She looked over her shoulder toward her own house, two streets over from the park defining the center of Hollings. If she started walking now, she could have hot chocolate in hand and It’s a Wonderful Life on the TV in under ten minutes.

  Not as if she’d be hiding the way Rachel implied. She’d just be warm and comfortable and out of the crowd jostling her as they headed for the community center where the county’s Christmas craft festival was cranking up.

  The craft festival. She winced. “Rach?”

  Several feet ahead of Taryn, her cousin miraculously heard her and turned around. “You coming?”

  “I promised Jemma I’d come over and help with her craft booth.” Jemma. The name was warm on her tongue. Born of the time her tiny toddler mouth couldn’t quite get the grandma to work like it was supposed to. Her Jemma. The constant love in her life. As much as she wanted to go home and tuck in under a quilt, Taryn had promised and she wouldn’t let her grandmother down. “She’s got some quilts she’s selling in the community center.”

  Rachel’s gaze bounced between the small brick building at the edge of the park and the fire station, invisible down the street and around the corner, where her fiancé probably waited for her to show up with his chicken and pastry dinner from the little church on, yes, Church Street. “I’ll come with you and visit your grandmother for a second. I need to thank her for the cute little fireman quilt she made for Ethan’s bed. I can’t wait until he sees it on Christmas morni
ng.” She hefted her son higher on her hip without missing a step. “Mark is hoping the house will be ready by then so we can take Ethan over after he wakes up and have our first Christmas morning as a family in our own house, even if it’s empty of everything but a tree.”

  “That’s the single sappiest thing I’ve ever heard. And maybe the sweetest.”

  Ethan giggled like he knew exactly what Taryn had said.

  Taryn knew better than to offer to take the boy for some snuggles of her own. This was all still new and joyful to Rachel. Give it a month. She’d be begging for a babysitter, and Taryn would be more than willing to oblige. The way her arms ached to snuggle the wiggling, giggling bundle told her so. She shoved the longing aside and slid sideways between two people. “Excuse me.”

  “Where did all of these people come from, anyway?” Rachel fell a half step behind her as the crowd thickened to funnel through the double doors into the community building.

  “It’s Christmas in the mountains and it’s tree lighting night. Half of them are tourists.”

  “Sure enough,” said an older gentleman with a Boston accent. “Cold down here is a lot better than cold up north.”

  “Cold is cold.” Taryn smiled into his kind face.

  “But here, with all the evergreens and the rolling hills . . .” He breathed in deeply. “Feels like you ought to be able to catch Christmas in a bottle up here. Sell it maybe. It’s like Christmas magic.”

  Okay, right. Because there was such a thing as Christmas magic. Where all your dreams came true. Taryn fought the urge to screw up her lips. Never going to happen. She scanned the crowd again, wanting to spot a familiar face and yet dreading it at the same time. It was miserable being torn in two by your own emotions.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Rachel was right on top of her, one hand holding Ethan’s head to her shoulder protectively. “It will happen for you, too. Who knows, maybe with what you heard tonight . . .” She wiggled her eyebrows.