Her Rocky Mountain Hero (Rocky Mountain Justice Book 1)

by Jennifer D. Bokal

  Chapter 6

  Telluride’s main street was made up of one narrow road. At this time of the night, and especially in the midst of a major storm, the lane was free of cars and pedestrians. Two-story buildings rose on each side, many dating from the late nineteenth century, when Telluride had been founded as a silver mining town.

  The wall of one building abutted the next and created a solid block of businesses and residences. Most were brick, but the rare wooden buildings were painted in a variety of bright colors—azure, crimson and emerald. Snow covered the road and the few cars parked curbside. Bright red bows hung from every streetlight and wreaths decorated most every door. Viktoria might have appreciated its picturesque qualities at another time, but tonight she was too occupied with thoughts of her missing son.

  She leaned back against the heated seat and closed her eyes. She’d been asleep when they’d soundlessly stolen Gregory. Viktoria took in a shaky breath as the tears she fought to control slipped over her lashes and trailed down her cheeks.

  Cody reached for her, covering her hand with his. It was large, warm and strong. In that moment, Viktoria felt protected. The feeling completed her in a way she hadn’t realized she’d been lacking.

  She slipped her hand back to her lap. She couldn’t let a few months alone—plus the year before Lucas had died and the few months of being a widow—cloud her judgment. All the same, a tingle of excitement registered in her belly.

  “It’ll be okay,” he said. “You’ll get Gregory back.”

  “You don’t know that,” she snapped, the warmhearted feeling gone in an instant. “You don’t know anything.” Releasing the despair, even a little, felt good.

  “I do,” said Cody, “because I refuse to believe anything else.”

  Did she dare to believe, to hope, to trust? A tear slid down her cheek. With one hand remaining on the steering wheel, Cody reached for her and wiped her cheek dry. Viktoria instinctively leaned in to his touch and the strength and solace he offered.

  “I should believe,” she said. “It’s the season of miracles, right?”

  “Supposedly,” said Cody, with a look she couldn’t decipher. “And speaking of miracles, here’s the rental agency.” He slowed the Range Rover and pulled up in front of a glass door that was identical to so many others.

  Viktoria opened the car door and jumped down. This time the snow came up to the middle of her calf. Cody already stood before a storefront, his backpack slung over his shoulder and a slim case in his hand. The glass windows of the rental office were filled with pictures of available properties. Suites in large lodges. Ski-in/ski-out condominiums. Single homes with asymmetrical rooflines and floor-to-ceiling windows.

  Viktoria watched as Cody opened the black leather case. Inside were several long, slim pieces of metal. He removed one from its holder and bent before the door. After a few seconds of working the piece of metal in the lock there was a click.

  Cody rose to his feet and pushed the door open. He stepped through, paused and motioned for Viktoria to follow.

  Next to the door, a gray plastic box emitted a series of beeps.

  The alarm had been tripped. She froze; her heart stilled within her chest.

  All the events of the awful evening came crashing down on her. Gregory was gone. She had barely survived an attack that had been orchestrated by her ruthless in-laws, and now she was going to be arrested for breaking and entering. She’d have no defense and the courts would happily give Gregory to the rich and powerful Mateevs. “Cody,” she whispered, pointing a shaking finger at the wall.

  Lights on the alarm’s faceplate changed from green to yellow. From the case that Cody still held, he removed a pair of cutters and snipped two wires, silencing the noise and extinguishing the lights. “It’s okay,” he said. His voice was deep and soothing, like a warm cup of hot chocolate. He held her by the shoulders. “Look at me.”

  His scent—pine and cold—drifted over her and Viktoria gazed up at him.

  He paused. Inched closer and closer still. She felt the warmth of his breath wash over her. He reached up. His hand hovered next to her cheek. Viktoria’s pulse quickened. She wanted him to touch her, to feel his skin on hers. She leaned toward him, but then stopped.

  Worse than giving in to a despair so deep that she’d never be able to crawl out and find her son, would be for Viktoria to succumb to her attraction to Cody. Or maybe it was just misplaced gratitude for saving her life. Yes, that was it, she decided. She wasn’t truly interested in Cody, just extremely appreciative.

  Viktoria took a step back. “We should get started. This is your area of expertise. What should we do first?”

  Cody pointed to three metal multidrawer filing cabinets lined up against the back wall. “Here.” He handed her a flashlight before tucking his fleece cap into his pocket. “Start with the one on the left. Look for any rental agreement with Belkin’s name on it,” he continued. “Nikolai Mateev or someone else from the family might be listed as the renters, but I doubt it.”

  With a nod, Viktoria went to the first cabinet. She pulled on the handle. It was locked.

  “Cody,” she whispered, even though there was no one to hear her.

  Using the same tool he had on the door, Cody worked on the filing cabinet and within seconds he had the drawer open. It took her a few minutes to figure out how to riffle through the green hanging files while holding her flashlight, but soon she had learned to tuck the flashlight into the crook of her neck and flip through the contracts. Each file was labeled with the name of the renter. She quickly sorted through the As and moved to the Bs, but no Belkin was listed.

  With a click, she turned off her flashlight and leaned against the wall. “This is a waste of time,” she said.

  Cody stood before the third filing cabinet. He held his light in his mouth and was already crouched in front of the second drawer. He turned to her, the light blinding.

  She shaded her face and continued, “Even if he rented a property from this realtor, he didn’t use his own name. It would have to be an alias, which means it could be anything and we’d never know.”

  Cody took the light from his mouth and turned it off. “Belkin is smart and careful, but he’s not perfect. He makes mistakes—they all do. Hopefully Belkin thinks he’s so smart that no one will know where to look.”

  She wanted to believe Cody, but... “Our chances of finding him are pretty low.”

  “The only way to ensure that Belkin wins is to give up,” Cody said. “And that means that your son gets taken to Russia. You’ll never see him again. You’re going to give up because Belkin didn’t rent a house in his own name? I thought you were tougher than that.”

  Viktoria opened her mouth to argue—to tell Cody that she was a lot tougher than that. She turned on her flashlight. “My pity party break is over,” she said and then added, “Sorry.”

  “No apologies needed,” said Cody.

  She turned back to the filing cabinet and looked through all the Cs, Ds and the few Es that were available. With a sigh, she turned off her light. “Finding Belkin can’t be this random. We have to think of everything we know about him and look for a connection.”

  “Like what?” Cody asked.

  “Well, his real name isn’t Peter. It’s Pyotr—a Russian spelling.”

  “What’s the Russian spelling of his last name?”

  “Belkin is a Russian name.”

  “No kidding?” asked Cody as he moved to the middle cabinet. He picked the lock and knelt before the second drawer. “O,” he said, flipping past hanging files, “P. No, no surname of Pyotr. Nor is there a Peter.”

  “Okay,” she said. “He works for Crandall Stevenson. It’s a law firm located in the Chrysler Building on Lexington Ave.”

  “You have the beginning of the alphabet,” said Cody.

 
She did. Excitement shot through her and Viktoria moved back to the cabinet. She had already looked through all the Cs, but had something important gone unnoticed? She flipped through a sea of green hanging files with neatly penned tabs. Once. And then again. Her stomach roiled. “Nothing,” she said with a sigh. “You look at the Ss.”

  Cody slid open a drawer. Viktoria came to stand next to him. She shone her light on the files. Seeger. Stevens. Stevenson, Crandall from New York, New York. This time she did smile and it felt good, hopeful, like there might be an end to her trouble. “We found them,” she said. “Now let’s go and save my son.”

  * * *

  Cody glanced at Viktoria. The interior lights of the SUV cast her in a silver ethereal light. Her skin was pale and flawless; her hair shimmered like moonlight. She looked angelic and almost too fragile to touch.

  He now knew, though, that Viktoria was far from a delicate flower. The set of her jaw, along with her narrowed eyes, spoke of a deep tenacity that he knew better than to cross.

  Cody had to force himself to turn his mind from all things personal connected to Viktoria Mateev. She was part of his job. An assignment. And once they’d recovered her son and he’d had a chance to question her about the Mateevs, his job would be over and they’d never cross paths again.

  Cody exhaled before entering the address they’d found into his navigation system. He turned his truck through the snow-filled roads, carefully following the first set of directions. He was fairly sure that Gregory was not harmed—after all, Belkin would want to deliver the boy to his grandfather in one piece. And he was also fairly sure that Belkin didn’t know Viktoria was alive. In fact, from what Cody learned in talking to the thug on the walkie-talkie, he also was fairly sure that Belkin was alone at the address.

  In his humble opinion, fairly sure sucked.

  As a DEA agent, Cody never moved in on a target without being positive and having lots of backup. He thought about calling in the team from RMJ. Most everyone was in Denver and over three hundred miles away. The windshield wipers shoveled snow from left to right and Cody decided that the six, or more, hour wait for their help was too long and therefore unacceptable. And if he did call, more than likely Ian would tell him to stand down.

  Well, Cody wasn’t about to give up this opportunity to find Gregory. That meant only one thing—he would have to go in alone.

  “Listen,” he began. Talking had a calming effect on him and slowed the intense pulse that he’d felt building with each mile traveled. “I’m not sure what we’re up against. There’s always a risk of injury or death in a raid.”

  “What are you saying?”

  What was he saying? He didn’t like the idea of putting Viktoria in harm’s way. But why was the need to keep Viktoria safe akin to the need for water in the desert? “I don’t live too far from here,” he said. “I can take you to my house and...”

  “Not a chance,” Viktoria interrupted. “He’s my son and I’m going with you.”

  Cody tried again. “What I have planned isn’t exactly legal...”

  “You think I care about the law? This is my son.”

  “What about your own safety?”

  “I’m going,” she said. “End of story.”

  Cody gritted his teeth. Stubborn woman. He inhaled slowly and exhaled. “I care about you.” He quickly changed his words, adding, “I care about you because I care about doing a good job.”

  She whispered his name and Cody could easily imagine her breath on his neck as they moved together, making love. Her voice, moaning his name, over and over and over.

  Like she didn’t know the effect she had on him, Viktoria continued, “Gregory has been through so much already. I can’t allow him to think that he’s being kidnapped by another stranger, any more than I could sit safely in your house and wait.”

  Cody had been so intent on the thought of rescuing the boy that he hadn’t thought about her kid’s reaction to being grabbed and whisked away for a second time. “Fine,” he said, taking the next turn indicated by his navigation system. The tires crunched through the deep snow. “The first thing we need is intel on the house—who’s inside and where. From there we can devise a plan.” The screen of the GPS showed an illuminated map. Two more turns up a winding mountain road were indicated, then the directions ended in a black-and-white-checkered flag. Cody took the first turn and before his truck eased around the second, he turned off the headlights.

  A large ski house came into view and the black SUV from the kidnapping sat in the middle of a circular driveway. He drove another hundred feet before easing onto the shoulder.

  Reaching up, Cody disabled the interior light. “Ready?” Cody asked.

  Viktoria took in a single long breath and exhaled. “As much as I’ll ever be.”

  The snow was deep now and falling heavily. The blizzard that was not yet fully upon them was as much an enemy as was Belkin himself. On a stormy night like this it was easy to get disoriented and lost, a deadly combination in the Colorado wilderness.

  Cody hitched his chin toward the dense woods that surrounded the A-frame. “We need to stay in the trees,” he said. “Stick to me. I don’t want us to get separated.”

  She wrapped her fingers through his. Her hand was warm, despite the cold, and incredibly soft. His mind conjured the image of an intimate touch and his body responded in kind. He couldn’t let her get to him—no matter how damned beautiful she was, or how long it had been since Cody had actually wanted the affections of another.

  Cody stopped at the edge of the tree line; Viktoria stood at his back. An expanse of snow-covered lawn separated them from the back of the house.

  Floor-to-ceiling windows gave Cody an unobstructed view into the building. A guy sat at a table, a laptop in front of him. It could be Belkin—Cody had seen photos—then again, it could be a million other guys.

  “It’s him,” said Viktoria. “That’s Belkin.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She nodded. Downy flakes clung to her eyelashes and her long blond hair. She looked like a snow angel and his heart skipped a beat. He turned back to the house, trying like hell to not return his gaze to Viktoria’s face.

  Belkin. Cody focused on the back of the man’s head, the exact place a bullet would enter and end his miserable life. Cody’s palm moved the holster at his hip. Wind. Trajectory. Distance. Visibility. It wasn’t an impossible shot, but a difficult one nonetheless. If he missed, then what? His hand slipped to his side.

  Cody assumed that Belkin was alone, but he needed to know. He studied the back of the structure—a full three stories—and looked for signs of occupancy beyond Belkin. There were no stray lights in upstairs windows, or movements in the shadowy corners behind Belkin. Not even the whisper of a sound beyond the wind in the trees.

  While Cody hadn’t expected to see a platoon of hired gunmen stationed at every door and window, he absolutely had expected to see Gregory Mateev. In fact, the kid’s absence was more puzzling than Belkin sitting alone.

  Cody’s worst fears churned through his mind, filling his chest with pain. Hadn’t he seen the depths of Belkin’s depravity firsthand? He wanted to give voice to his worries. But say what and to whom? He could hardly tell Viktoria that they might be too late to save her son’s life. His hands shook with anger as the memory of the CI’s life slipping away was once again more vivid than the snowy woods.

  Life. Death. Love. Hate. Rage. Ardor. In the end, they were all the same.

  He turned to Viktoria, all primal instinct and no civilized decorum. He reached for her, gripping her waist and pulling her to him. Viktoria’s eyes were wide—doe-like—and she sucked in a little hiccup of a breath. Cody released his hold. She was a widow whose son had just been kidnapped. What kind of jerk was he to want to steal a kiss?

  Then without a word, Viktoria closed the dist
ance between them. She pressed her lips onto his cheek. “For luck,” she whispered.

  Without another thought about right or wrong, Cody slid his arm around her waist and pulled Viktoria closer. Her full breasts pressed into his chest, warm and inviting.

  Cody placed his mouth on hers. Viktoria wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips. He moved his tongue into her mouth and she greeted him in return. Their kiss became his world. His universe. His everything.

  Viktoria raked her fingers over his shoulders. Cody’s hands traveled down, memorizing her form. Her arms. Her waist. Her tight, firm butt. And then his conscience came roaring in like a locomotive that had just jumped the track. He pulled away from the embrace.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.”

  Viktoria took a step back and Cody faltered without her support. “You didn’t take advantage,” she whispered. Her words held an icy edge. “I’m an adult, not a schoolgirl who can be led astray.”

  Cody knew the fact that Viktoria was full grown all too well. He had felt her curves that suggested Viktoria Mateev was 100 percent woman. “That’s not what I meant,” Cody said. He immediately froze. His voice would carry on the thin mountain air, especially on such a quiet night.

  His next words were cut short by the shushing sounds of rollers on metal as the sliding glass door opened at the house.

  Damn, Cody silently cursed. He was better than that—to ruin the element of surprise by trying to make Viktoria understand. Understand what? Even Cody couldn’t categorize his feelings. He mentally tucked his attraction to Viktoria away, something he’d tried and failed to do several times already, and turned his focus to the house.

  Belkin stepped into the night and looked in their direction. He reached into his pocket and Cody instinctively stepped in front of Viktoria, shielding her from any stray bullets. Slowly, Belkin’s hand became visible. Cody slid his hand to his gun, unsnapped the holster guard and peered through the swirling snow.

  Belkin held something in his hand, but Cody couldn’t tell what it was. It was small—palm-sized—and rectangular. A Taser? The walkie-talkie? It wasn’t a gun. Belkin lifted his hand to his mouth and tapped a cigarette between his lips. From the other pocket came a lighter.