Reunion Under Fire

by Geri Krotow

  “Got it. And I do. As I’m sure you can imagine, it’s devastating to be hit so close to home by what I try to keep the residents of Silver Valley protected from.”

  “And we need you doing your job, keeping these bad people locked up. All the more reason for you to keep Becky here for the time being. Let all of this play out.”

  He left her office with the knowledge that Becky was in the best place possible for her needs. But it wasn’t the safest place, because nowhere was. His powerlessness against the unpredictability of human behavior was pummeling him.

  Chief Todd called him on the hands-free phone as he drove.

  “Josh, just want to let you know I’m sorry about what happened to Becky this morning. She okay?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. Thanks, sir.”

  “The two men arrested are connected to Valensky—they’ve worked in his pawnshop for three years, and both have a nice list of petty crimes on their records. They’ve already admitted they were working for Valensky. Claiming they were only trying to scare Becky, of course.”

  “Yeah, no one likes a felony charge of attempted kidnapping on their record.”

  “Right. We’ll see you out there, Josh.” Colt meant out on the ROC op.

  As he drove to the Trail Hiker headquarters to meet Claudia, he reminded himself of what he did have control over. His own actions.

  He’d let his relationship with Annie go too far. Emotions and nostalgia were one thing. His sister’s life at stake because of his failure to bring in the bad guys soon enough? That was inexcusable.

  * * *

  After she’d showered and dressed, Annie had an entire morning ahead of her, as she’d expected to be on the Appalachian Trail. She used the quiet time to shelve hanks of yarn. And to go over where her head was at with Josh. No matter which angle she came at it from, be it her past history with men and her personal trust issues, or their shared history that would be very sad to lose, her conclusion was the same.

  Josh didn’t want her to be part of his family. She had no doubt he wanted her in the most primal way, as she did him. He might even want her emotionally, as a friend and confidante. But his actions this morning when Becky had been attacked reminded her that they weren’t more than lovers and colleagues at this point. She’d be smart to guard her heart from expecting more than that.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she reached for it, absently wondering if she’d need to head out sooner than she’d planned. Her part-time employee was due to arrive by the time the store opened at eleven, and she’d be on her way to meet Josh shortly thereafter.

  Can we meet in the next hour? I am working on a project I need help with. You can meet me here, at my place if it’s convenient.

  Kit. The one person she was assigned to monitor, and she’d thought of nothing but Josh all morning. Not her most stellar professional moment. And it felt all too familiar—the last time she had not kept a client mentally front and center, she’d lost him.

  She looked at the time. Kit’s house, Valensky’s fortress, was in the vicinity of the AT entrance. It was doable if she left now.

  Be there in twenty.

  * * *

  Annie had found the Valenskys’ address without her GPS—she’d memorized it when going over the specifics of the property in Colt Todd’s office. The entryway was preceded by a long drive lined with birch trees, which she found a little creepy, even if they were beautiful. It looked like a slice of Russia in south central Pennsylvania.

  The house itself wasn’t in view even from the gated front. A concrete wall appeared from the rolling hills, and a double wrought-iron gate faced her like teeth bared for a fight. She got out of her car and pressed the button on the security unit, looking up to smile at the camera. The birch trees weren’t the only Russian touches around here.

  Kit’s voice came through the speakers. “Come right in, Annie. And you can park your car at the front steps.”

  “Okay.”

  Annie got back in her car and drove through the slowly swinging gates, unable to shake the feeling that they’d reverse and snap shut on her. Being crushed to death wasn’t a personal preference.

  The house still wasn’t visible for another half mile, past a copse of weeping willows across a bridge spanning a crystal clear creek. Valensky had placed his property to take advantage of the nearby Appalachian Trail and all its surrounding beauty, that was certain. She parked in the circular drive and walked up to where Kit waited at the front door.

  “Thank you for coming to see me. I’m really struggling with the last pattern I purchased from you.” Kit grasped Annie by the shoulders and gave her a very Russian three-cheek kiss, at the same time whispering in Annie’s ears. “The entire house is wired. We have to guard our words.”

  “Good to see you, Kit. Thanks for having me. What a beautiful place!” Annie smiled brightly. She could act the part of overzealous knitting instructor, no problem. If it meant they might gain insight into Vadim Valensky’s dealings with the ROC, and more importantly, save a group of young women fighting for their lives, she could stand on her head ad infinitum.

  “Come on in. I’ve made tea, and we can sit out on the back porch. We’ll enjoy the view while you help me. My husband is busy at work, so we have the house to ourselves.”

  Annie followed Kit through the massive oak doors with inset beveled glass windows, cut and frosted so that an outsider could not see in.

  “Wow.” She looked around as the foyer widened into a huge great room, imposing artwork on every wall, sculptures in every corner.

  “Through here.” They walked down a large, wide hall and turned left into a fully modern, contemporary kitchen. Annie tried to appreciate the decor but her nerves were wound too tightly. Valensky wasn’t here at the moment but what if he walked in? And if the place was wired, he was as good as here, anyway.

  “Do you prefer green, black or herbal tea?” Kit opened one of the massive cabinets above the counter and revealed shelves of tea. Tea tins, boxes and bags Annie recognized from the Silver Valley tea shop, Appalachian Steeps, stocked the generous shelves.

  “Whatever you’re having.”

  Kit smiled, genuinely this time. “Lady Grey, then.”

  Annie took in the full measure of the room as Kit spooned the loose leaves into the large teapot. Water was boiling in the electric kettle plugged into the wall, and it clicked off as the last dried tea leaf hit the bottom of the pot.

  “That’s the fanciest teakettle I’ve ever seen.”

  “My husband settles for nothing but the best. Which is why I want you to help me with the sweater I’m making him.”

  Kit carried the tray and her knitting out onto the back porch, which overlooked the Appalachian Trail, the mountains making a slow rise past the wall that surrounded every inch of the property.

  “I’d never leave home if I had this view.” As soon as she spoke, she winced. Here Kit was a virtual prisoner, needing permission to go to and from college and the yarn shop, and Annie so blithely acted as if living here were a choice.

  “I have my days.” Kit curled up on the cushioned seat next to hers and poured the tea into the two cups, handing one to Annie. “We’re safe out here, by the way. It’s the one place Vadim can’t have monitored. The big bosses told him he had to have a place where they could talk that wasn’t being recorded. They even swept it for bugs.”

  “You’re kidding. How do you know all of this?”

  Kit shrugged, a very Eastern European gesture. Knowing, weary, smart, enduring. “I live here. And I read up on things on the internet.”

  “What did you need to tell me, Kit? And you’re sure the acoustics from here don’t carry?”

  “I’m sure. We’re okay.”

  “How are you doing?” Kit looked steady but her eyes were haunted again.

  “Since I went to the shelter and came back
, he’s acting like a new man. Like he really cares.” Kit sniffled. “In his own sick way he does, I’ve no doubt. But of course it’s not enough.”

  “Love and caring are actions, Kit.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’ve read in the magazines and the self-help books on domestic violence. And they discussed it at the shelter.”

  “Did you feel safe there?” She had to know why Kit really left.

  “No. For a while, yes, but then I knew it was a matter of time before he found me. And if he threatened all the women there, their safety, that wouldn’t be good, would it?”

  “Your life and safety come first, Kit. It’s admirable that you were thinking ahead, but you weren’t able to avoid the bruises I saw on your neck.”

  “No. I’d gotten careless.”

  “It’s not your fault that Vadim abuses you. You deserve to be safe, Kit.” Annie wished for the umpteenth time that she could whisk Kit away from all of the abuse she’d suffered. It was a common fantasy that, as a counselor, she could never indulge. The victim had to make the choice to leave. It was the hardest part of her job.

  “Vadim’s worried about this case, about pleasing his superiors. He’s never trusted me with information about his operations, but since I went away, it’s been different. I’d worried that he’d become more violent, and I’d have to get out again. But instead he’s doing everything to apologize to me, to make it up to me. And he’s been sober. All of this isn’t like him. I’m afraid he’s going to explode from being so unlike himself.”

  “There’s no chance he’s decided to stay sober, is there? Do you think he’s gone to AA?”

  Kit managed a hollow laugh. “No, he’d never go to a place where he had to reveal any of himself. He’s sober only because his bosses will kill him if he messes up this job.”

  “Has he ever hit you while sober?” Kit had already answered this, but Annie wanted to hear it again. To see if Kit comprehended how precarious her situation was.

  “No, absolutely not. He’s so mortified when he’s done something in a blackout. He’s twenty-five years older than me, you know. He’s been drinking his whole life, and when he cries about hitting me while drunk, I have to wonder if he’s not also shedding tears for what he’s done in his past.”

  “Like what?” Annie had a clue from the briefings she’d received from Josh and at Trail Hikers, but maybe Kit knew more. Something that prosecutors could use to charge him with, beyond the domestic charges.

  Kit reached over and pulled a ball of yarn and an unfinished sweater from a project bag that had been on the chaise when they’d come out. “Like running some awful illegal deals with the gang he hung around with in Brooklyn.”

  “Whom he’s still in contact with.”

  Kit nodded. “He came over with his compatriots in the nineties when the economy and his chances to make money from the poor went to zilch. They set up shop here in America, where for them, the streets have been paved with gold. Just look around you.” Kit motioned at the house behind them, and Annie got it. This wasn’t the kind of money that a specialized professional like a surgeon or highly paid attorney brought in. And it certainly wasn’t anything the owner of a pawnshop could afford. Unless he had another source of income.

  “Do you think the money he gets comes from bringing the women in, or has he run other businesses?”

  “It’s the women, and has been the women for at least the time I’ve known him, so the last six years. Before that? He’s bragged about how when he was helping bring in drugs they didn’t have the problem they have now with the heroin being cut with lethal stuff like fentanyl.”

  “Lovely.” Annie couldn’t help her snide remark as her insides roiled at how casually Valensky spoke of what he’d done, ignoring the countless deaths he was responsible for. She’d read the entire case file on Valensky and his ties to ROC at Trail Hiker headquarters. Kit didn’t know half of the evil Valensky sponsored.

  Kit’s report was true. She’d been exposed to Valensky’s ugly dealings since she was a teen, and now as a young woman she’d seen more than a lot of law enforcement ever did. And she’d put up with so much from the physical and mental abuse. Annie wondered how she’d do when it all played out, when Valensky was behind bars for life and Kit was free to live hers. She had the makings of an incredible agent, police officer or psychologist.

  The longer Annie remained in Valensky’s home, the more anxious she became. This wasn’t a safe place for her—it never had been for Kit.

  “Take a look at my pattern here—see row one hundred on page two?” Kit spoke quietly, and when Annie opened the leaflet pattern, she noticed a huge sticky note atop the printed knitting instructions. It was in Kit’s neat writing, and it included what looked like a map of the back of the house.

  “Oh, I see the tricky part of the pattern.” Annie raised her brow so that Kit would see it.

  “Take my notes, you will need them later.” Kit spoke fast, urgency in every syllable. Sweat dripped down Annie’s back and she had to fight to stop herself from standing up and pacing. Her entire being was telling her to run, get away. Take Kit with her.

  “Are you sure we’re not being filmed, Kit?”

  “We’re not being voice-recorded, but I know Vadim plants his microcameras in odd places at times, to ‘beat the odds,’ as he says, against any intruders. As far as I know, all he’s ever caught out here has been a rabbit who’s wandered in through the front gate. There’s no other way in or out of here, not with this huge concrete monstrosity.” Kit’s revulsion was clear.

  Annie looked at the paper and committed its contents to memory, noting a couple different buildings behind the house. She folded it with fumbling fingers and looked more closely at the backyard. Only now did she notice the low-profile building that took up two-thirds of the width of the property. If she had to guess, it was almost a quarter mile from the house.

  “How big is your yard? I can’t even see the back fence.”

  “You mean wall, right?”

  “Yes.” It was hard to conceive that the wall was that long, that wide, but she’d seen it herself on the photos from the drones. She didn’t remember seeing the extra building, and she knew why now. It was surrounded by trees, whose canopy almost covered the roof.

  “Is that the guesthouse over there?”

  “It’s the pool house, complete with sauna.” Kit stood. “Come. Before you help me with the sweater.”

  The last thing Annie wanted to do was go deeper onto a property that reeked of danger. Escaping the compound wasn’t straightforward—it would require running back through the house. She was certain Valensky had purposely built it that way.

  They stepped off the deck onto a graveled path that meandered around and in between beautiful perennial gardens. Several had bronze statues that Annie would bet cost more than her condo in Manhattan. “Are you sure this is such a good idea?”

  “We’re safe now. We can’t talk about anything of importance in the pool house, but I want you to see the interior for reasons you’ll understand when you read my note.”

  “Got it.” The leaves crackled under her boots. “Kit, you know I’m a trained counselor, right? I can’t help you like...like the others can.”

  “Their help will be with getting Vadim taken care of. You, you’re my friend, no?” Kit angled her head to meet Annie’s gaze as they walked, and Annie nodded.

  “I’m your friend, Kit, yes, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it. You’re in a very dangerous environment, and you need to seriously consider leaving. You know you’ll be protected.”

  “I know. But you know me a little bit by now. You know that I need to be the one to stop Vadim. Because it’s not only him, it’s the organization he’s tied up with.” Kit reached for the door to the building. Annie looked over her shoulder, and from here the house was no longer visible. She forced herself to take deep breaths and stay
focused on the present. Otherwise her panic at being so far from a safe exit was going to prevent her from doing her job.

  “Remember, no talking in here of anything but knitting.”

  “Okay.” Annie noticed the smell of salt water and steam upon entry, as they were immediately ensconced in a tropical environment. Sunlight streamed in thin rays through one large skylight, framed to look like several, the leaves and branches of the trees throwing shadows across them. A junior, Olympic-size pool ran the length of the room, with a large and welcoming seating area beyond. A bar with a refrigerator and, from what she could see, a restaurant’s worth of booze lined the far wall. In the corner, surrounded by indoor palms and ferns, a hot tub bubbled.

  “This is incredible! I take back what I said about staying on the deck to knit. I think I’d come in here and hit the hot tub in between rows.”

  “Here, let me show you the sauna, too.” Kit led her alongside the hot tub, where a cedar door opened to a large room with tiered wooden benches. It wasn’t like the sauna at the gym, though. It was larger and appeared to lack the typical electric heating unit. She noted a large wooden bucket, filled with salt.

  “How does it heat up?”

  “Here.” Kit opened a chute-like door and pointed inside. “It’s a wood-fired sauna, just like you’d find in Russia.”

  “I’ve never been to Russia. This is very impressive.” She smiled at Kit, but she wasn’t looking at her. Kit’s gaze was frozen on the entrance to the sauna. Chills ran down Annie’s spine, but she turned with what she hoped was innocent curiosity.

  And for the second time in one week she came face-to-face with Vadim Valensky.

  “When you said you were having your knitting friend over, I didn’t know it would include a tour of my house.” His heavy accent added to her sense that Annie was where she shouldn’t be. And while it sparked the fear humming through her into full-blown fright, it also ignited a deep anger. This monster was about to be apprehended, if she had anything to do with it.