by Geri Krotow
“Josh!” She grabbed his arm and a glob of jelly flew across the counter. “I mean it. I want to move.”
“Becky, please don’t do that.” He wiped up the jelly. “I heard you, and I told you already, we’ll see.” He didn’t want to give her false hope. Or himself. He’d been working on it, and Upward Homes might be the answer for both of them.
“Melissa lives there, and it’s safe and I can have my own apartment and everything!” Her cheeks were rosy, and he suspected she’d been waiting for him to come home to talk about it.
“I’m sure it’s a fun place, Bec. But I have to know all about it, and even if we can afford it, we might have to wait a long time for a space to open up.” He’d finished the paperwork and in fact, they could schedule a tour at any time. His work had gotten in the way again.
“But we can apply now, and then when the space opens up I can move there.” She was as focused as he was on a case, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Okay, okay. We’ll see about getting a tour of Upward Homes. Remember, we just got you settled in your new job, Bec. It’s always a good idea to take your time with the big changes.” He’d breathed a sigh of relief when the position for her opened up at the local thrift store. Becky was assigned to sorting clothing as it came into the facility, and she was able to talk to her colleagues as she worked, many of them friends from the special needs class she’d moved through elementary and high school with. Becky was a social creature, and she’d never make it in a stricter work environment. He’d sunk to his knees in gratitude when the call to hire her had come in.
“I love my job! I have to be there at 8:30 on Monday morning. I want to be there at 8:21, just to make sure. I don’t want to be late, Josh. It’s my job!” Becky also had OCD, which, while successfully treated with meds, cropped up as her being a stickler for promptness.
“We’ll get you to work on time. No worries, Bec. For now, let’s go eat.” A meal with Becky was the highlight of his day.
Maybe later he’d bite the bullet and sign them up for a tour of Upward Homes. He sighed as he plated her sandwich and added a cut-up apple. His concerns over her hopes being dashed were selfish, really. Because it was he who would suffer the crushing disappointment if he couldn’t get the very best for his younger sister.
* * *
Back at the station Josh allowed his mind to return to work, and what had occupied his thoughts more than even Becky these past several days.
Annie.
Frustration made his gut roil in an acidic mix of the crappy coffee in Annie’s yarn shop and his reaction to hearing the fear in her voice when she’d called him. He knew she was solid with her police training, and it reflected on how she’d handled the entire situation. She hadn’t taken any unnecessary risks, or worse, tried to handle it herself. Annie knew her limits and that was the best quality whether a cop or civilian.
“Josh, I need you in my office.” Chief Todd’s voice startled Josh. He watched as his boss walked by his desk without another word. Colt Todd rarely pulled people in his office this late in the day as he spent the time cruising through town, keeping his finger on the pulse of Silver Valley. The chief rarely worked on Sundays, but it was an unusual time for SVPD, thanks to the Russian crime ring.
“Yes, sir.” He grabbed his phone and followed the chief into the largest office in the building.
“Shut the door and have a seat.”
Josh did as ordered and sank into the comfortable chair in front of Colt’s massive desk. He looked his boss over for signs of irritation but found none. Phew. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint the man who fearlessly led their department through thick and thin. Right now was a thick time, with ROC breathing down their necks.
“You’ve been busy the past few weeks.” Colt got right to the point. Josh had provided his boss with both a written and oral summary of the Valensky issue.
“Yes, sir. We’re getting somewhat closer to Vadim Valensky.”
“How’s his wife?”
“Safe.” He named the shelter, two counties over.
“But we had a problem at the Silver Threads Yarn Shop just now. How’s the psychologist from NYPD doing? And tell me, do you trust her observations?”
“She’s fine, and yes, I trust her completely.” He hated telling Colt the rest. “We had to let Valensky’s thug go. He claimed he only wanted to see if the shop was open to buy some yarn for his girlfriend.”
“But?”
“But we’re pretty sure Valensky sent him to warn us to stay clear. This man has worked at the pawnshop with Valensky for over three years. Valensky knows Kit’s come to us by now, since we pressed charges. He’s covering his ass by sending someone else to do what he wants to do—sniff around for her at the places he knows she frequents, like Silver Valley Threads. He knows we’d take him into custody if he had the least little slipup. So he sent this thug instead.”
Colt looked at papers on his desk. “Annie Fiero has an exemplary record at NYPD. Her boss couldn’t sing her praises high enough. But he’s worried about her.”
“Worried?” Josh thought he had the corner on concern for Annie, especially after how he’d reacted this morning. Of course she had other people in her life, people who had known her the past decade while he’d not. He didn’t like thinking about it, the lost time between them. He had to stop thinking about it as lost time, too.
It was one thing to worry about his sister, but Annie...Annie was something more.
Colt paused. “Did she say anything to you about why she’s here for three months?”
“Chief, full disclosure, I knew Annie well in high school. Our families kept in touch until my folks died. She’s helping out her grandmother, who owns the yarn shop. Ezzie had a stroke and has been moved to Florida for her rehab, to be closer to Annie’s parents, who live down there.”
Colt leaned back in his chair and Josh braced himself. “I didn’t know you two had a history. What you’ve said is true, I’m sure, about her helping out her grandmother. But it’s only the surface. She’s here because she’s on sabbatical.”
“Okay.” Josh didn’t think this was the big deal Colt was making of it. People took breaks from work all the time. He was in the middle of a brief break from detective work, accepting the uniformed officer assignment as his schedule required.
“Apparently she’s been through some tough times, work-wise. Her last client was an NYPD cop who was involved in a murder-suicide. Took out his wife before he killed himself.” Colt’s steely gaze was on him, but not without compassion. “I take it she didn’t say anything about it to you?”
Shock rocked him back in his seat. “No, she didn’t mention that to me.” Shoot. That explained the extra defensive layer in her communication with him that he sensed. Except when they’d kissed. She’d been 100 percent open in communicating her physical desire. The memory made him shift in his seat. “Is it going to affect whether she can work the case with us or not?”
Colt shook his head. “No, it’s her call. We can certainly use her, especially if there’s a chance of nailing Valensky. She’s already cleared with her supervisor and we’ve filed the necessary paperwork. You know, it might be good for her to be working instead of having too much time on her hands, even with that craft store. None of us are good at taking time from this job.” Colt looked over his desk, his office, before his glance landed back on Josh.
“She’s not got a lot of free time, not with running the yarn shop for her grandmother.” He sat straighter, his defense of Annie coming from a deep place.
“I’m not saying that running a small business isn’t challenging work, but for a person with her credentials, it’ll get old quickly. It’s too far from what she normally does, which is saving officers as they grapple with the toughest things we all see. She’s gifted, if her record is accurate.”
Josh didn’t doubt it. “Is there
anything else, Chief?”
Colt nodded. “Yeah. I’m just back from TH headquarters.” He referred to Trail Hikers, a top secret government shadow agency that operated globally but was headquartered in Silver Valley. The name Trail Hikers, or TH as those briefed into the program called it, was a nod to the Appalachian Trail, which traversed Silver Valley in two different places as it wound through the valley and into the mountains.
“And?” Josh prompted his boss, who’d stared off into space. Colt’s wife, Claudia Michele, was a retired US Marine Corps General and also the director of Trail Hikers. Josh assumed Colt had unique if not privileged insights on some of the tougher cases that TH took on. ROC was small potatoes for the Trail Hikers, an organization that had taken down a problematic religious cult, stopped a serial killer who targeted female ministers and had helped stymie the ROC human trafficking op two months ago. And those were just the tip of the iceberg, an iceberg that no one but Claudia was completely privy to.
“And...we’ve got a big problem, Josh. ROC is always looking to expand, like any well-run business. They’ve been running ops up and down the state, and they keep coming through Silver Valley. TH has intelligence reports that state there’s another shipment of underaged female illegal aliens heading into the area. This is larger than the case we closed a couple of months ago. It’s clear that Silver Valley is ROC’s pick to be their East Coast center of operations. Just five minutes ago we got a tip from the undercover TH agent working the case with Customs and Border Protection at JFK International. Eight to twelve women, all headed for Silver Valley.”
“Thinking they’ll be employed as nannies?” Josh had gotten educated on the extent of human trafficking in the area as quickly as the rest of the department. In a trial by fire they’d had to help dismantle a network of women who’d been forced to work at the local strip club. Those women had since received the help they needed and applied for T visa status, specially geared to assist victims of human trafficking. The women were supported as they started new lives in college or other professional training. Because of how they’d basically been smuggled into the United States, and the varying degrees of hardship they’d faced in their native countries, they were given an option to seek political refugee status and stay in the States. It had been satisfying to help a group of women who’d been so victimized on to a better way of life.
And now this new trafficking case reared its ugly head.
Colt let out a long sigh. “Who knows what they think? It’s crazy. First, it’s hard to imagine buying into the promise of a full-paying job once they arrive in the States, but so many are coming from abject poverty, or are already the victims of the slave trade. They have no hope for advancement out of their situation. Coming here gives them hope, the chance to save not only themselves but the families they leave behind.”
“Until they’re working the streets or dancing on a pole.” Many were younger than Becky, which made his heart hurt. “What can we do to stop this shipment?”
“We have to work hand in hand with TH, and to a lesser extent the FBI. I know your schedule and Becky’s needs are paramount, but I need you back as a detective, Josh. What’s the soonest you think you’ll have Becky placed?”
“I’m working on it. To be frank, I thought she’d want to stay home longer, now that she’s done with high school. Except for her mind, she wants everything the same as any other nineteen-year-old girl, or rather, woman, would. She wants her independence and to be with her friends.” Josh was not prepared for the sense of deep loss that the thought of Becky moving out triggered.
“It’ll be okay, Josh. You’ve been the best of brothers to her, and you’ll continue to be so. But it’s time. Let her go do her thing for a while, as long as you’re comfortable with the living situation. Of course, I’m being selfish. I want you available to the department, and Claudia wants you working with Trail Hikers more.” Josh stared at his boss, wondering how the man kept his wits about him, knowing his wife was in constant danger during an op.
“I do miss TH work.” And he did. His involvement in the secret agency’s ops were always local due to his responsibilities for Becky, but he loved being part of a team. And there was no team like the Trail Hikers. The best-trained, most integrity-driven operatives on the planet, in his estimation.
Colt’s questioning gaze was on him, and Josh nodded. “You’re right. I need to help Becky make the next move. This summer has been long enough.” Becky needed, deserved more. “I’ll check out the living arrangements for her this week and let you know the minute I find a placement for her.”
“If you need me to call anyone, just holler.” Colt Todd was well respected in the community and seemed to know everyone. He had no doubt his boss could yank a few strings, but Josh wanted to see how it’d play out naturally the first go-round.
“Thanks, sir, I will.”
“No problem. As for the enslaved women headed here, we’ve got some indications that they’re being kept at a place in town, and will be placed in the greater Harrisburg area strip joints, to include Silver Valley’s, within two weeks.”
“So we have to move against Valensky now.”
Colt shook his head. “That’s just it. We can’t go in with guns blazing and roll him over. It’ll spook the rest of the ROC in the area, and the girls will disappear quicker than we can click the cuffs on Valensky. We need to take it slow but with certainty. You’re still planning to have his wife, Kit, come in here to give an additional statement at some point, right?” Colt knew that Kit had already given a statement regarding the domestic violence charges to another officer, at the women’s shelter, within twenty-four hours of arriving there. SVPD wanted more information from her, though, on Valensky’s ROC involvement.
“Yes, sir.” Also on Monday. Less than twenty-four hours away. It was shaping up to be a hell of a week, and it was only Sunday afternoon. Yet instead of dreading the workload, Josh was buoyed by the realization that he’d be face-to-face with Annie through most of it. Working a tough case had its benefits.
Chapter 7
Annie woke early on Monday and made sure the shop was all set for the first of two clerks employed part-time by Ezzie. Both were trained to open as well as close, which would be critical in her ability to work with Josh and SVPD on Kit’s case. Her hope was that by the end of her first month back in Silver Valley, they’d have the yarn shop running so smoothly she wouldn’t have to worry about leaving it for longer periods.
The drive to Silver Valley’s Police Department was a short one, a quick jaunt up the one main highway that bisected the town. The skies were the unique shade of cerulean that she only associated with Silver Valley, showing off the summer shades of green that dappled from the maple trees that lined the road.
As she pulled into the parking lot, she noticed a tall, older woman in a dark business suit that contrasted with her slick silver bob walking into the building. Maybe the chief of police was a woman.
“Annie Fiero.” She held up her ID to the security camera as she spoke into the intercom, and was buzzed in.
“Good morning.” The receptionist smiled at her, and Annie couldn’t help but smile back. The familial atmosphere at SVPD was something she hadn’t experienced at NYPD. Her colleagues were in many instances just like family to her, and she them, but a sense of congeniality in the workplace wasn’t as obvious as it was here.
“Hey, Annie.” Josh stood in front of her before she could make her way back to his desk. His eyes were clear, and his gaze cut right through her as he looked her over from head to toe. At least she had on a summer-weight linen vest over her thin blouse. She wore a thinly padded bra but even so, she was afraid her instant attraction to Josh would be evident. They weren’t in her apartment, or at an intimate dinner for two. They were in the dang police headquarters, probably the least romantic place anywhere. Except every place had amorous possibilities when she was with Josh. The last thing
she needed was for her nipples to announce her private desire.
“Good morning, Josh. Any chance I can grab a coffee before we get started?”
“Of course. But it’s not the fancy shmancy roast you have in the yarn shop.” She detected an edge of sarcasm and bite.
“What didn’t you like about it? You drank a cup of it with no problem yesterday.”
He stopped in front of a high counter in the break area and lifted a carafe of coffee from its machine. “It was nothing compared to this. Allow me.” He grabbed a ceramic mug from a hook on the wall and poured from a battered and worn carafe. The rich aroma of fresh-roasted beans hit her and she smiled.
“Okay, you win.” She took the mug and reached for the creamer. “It’s too hard to keep coffee going at the shop all day—we don’t have enough people in there most of the time. And there are a fair number of tea drinkers, so we needed a machine that handles both.” She spoke in between sips of delicious coffee and equally palatable glances at Josh.
He stood in full police uniform, his body armor stretching the material tight and reminding her to not look down at his crotch, where his jeans had been stretched unbearably tight during their make-out session a month ago.
“We’ve got to be in Chief Todd’s office—” he looked at his watch “—right about now. You can bring that with you.” He poured himself half a cup, and led her to the end of the corridor and into a large executive-style office.
A tall man she placed in his fifties stared at his computer screen while the woman she’d spotted in the parking lot stood behind him, watching the screen over his shoulder.
“Sir, ma’am, this is Annie Fiero from NYPD.”
Two sets of incredibly astute eyes were on her, but Annie didn’t flinch. She knew better than anyone the value of clear body language to include strong eye contact with law-enforcement colleagues. If they saw the least sign of weakness, they’d have a hard time trusting her out in the field. Or in the office, which was indeed Annie’s “field.”
