Читать книгу Reunion Under Fire - Geri Krotow - Страница 12
ОглавлениеAnnie was still thinking about Joshua Avery long after she left SVPD, and later, as she closed the shop Friday night. It was as if he’d personally stayed with her all day, but whether it was the sexy edge to his humor or her reaction to him, she couldn’t tell. He’d believed her story regarding Kit, and he had enough police information on Vadim Valensky to validate Annie’s concerns. She’d hoped to have more information for him after tonight’s knitting circle, or better, to bring Kit into SVPD to file a report. But Kit hadn’t shown up, much to Ginny’s and the other knitters’ dismay. Annie was the most disappointed but unable to share it.
The night hadn’t been a total wash, though, as a newer couple to the group, John and Jacob, were happy to announce their engagement and the night turned into a double celebration, adding to Lydia’s birthday party. Three new knitters had joined the festivities, as well. Annie had to hand it to her grandmother. Just as she’d told Josh, Ezzie had not only formed an entire community around the shop, she’d created a unique family of fiber crafters.
Annie turned the Open sign to Closed against the stained glass and locked up the store. She climbed the worn cherrywood steps to the apartment above the shop, running her hand along the timeworn banister. Silver Threads Yarn Shop was one of several businesses in downtown Silver Valley proper, but its Victorian architecture was rare. At some point it had been divided, and the other side had been remodeled into a dentist’s office, which it had remained until recently when a local had returned to Silver Valley after serving as an FBI agent in Washington, DC. She’d turned the dentist’s office into an outdoor adventure travel agency. It was especially busy this time of year, as groups of tourists came to the area to hike the AT, canoe the Susquehanna River and its tributaries, and enjoy day trips to surrounding attractions such as Gettysburg Battlefield and Hershey, Pennsylvania. Annie had met the owner, Abi Redland, only once but had liked her immediately. They were around the same age, she guessed.
Annie remembered when Ezzie had surprised her family by announcing she wanted to convert her library and living room into a yarn shop, move the kitchen upstairs and remodel the bedrooms, many empty, into an apartment. Annie marveled at her grandmother’s intelligence and, more importantly, her determination to make a life for herself after her beloved second husband of forty-five years had passed away suddenly, when Annie was in high school.
The roomy upstairs apartment had always been the perfect place for Annie to lick her psychological wounds, too. First when she’d broken up from an abusive boyfriend, during college. She’d only ever told her family the barest facts of her harrowing escape from the man who’d abused her regularly, who’d emotionally battered her until she was but a shell of the young woman who’d graduated high school with dreams of traveling the world and becoming an artist.
They all knew why she was on sabbatical this time, though, and supported her need to heal. And run her grandmother’s shop.
“Meow.” Ezzie’s cat greeted Annie at the door, wrapping his warm body around her ankles.
“Come here, Bubba.” She lifted the large orange tabby into her arms and was surprised that he didn’t try to claw his way out of her hug as she walked them both to the sofa and sat down. “Thank you, sweetness. I need a little TLC right now.”
Bubba purred as he rubbed his head along her chin. As she accepted his feline ministrations, she was reminded of the scary bruises on Kit’s jawline she’d spotted. Her stomach hardened at the brutal violence that she believed caused them. “We’re going to get that bastard and see that he’s locked up, aren’t we?”
Annie looked around the living room that was piled with various knitting and crochet projects, the baskets heaped with yarn, the doilies under each and every knickknack. Grandma Ezzie had managed to pack two lifetimes’ worth of stuff into the homey apartment. She wondered what she and her parents would do if Ezzie decided to stay in Florida for good. It would take months to clear the clutter.
It was “clutter” for many, but to Annie it was pure comfort. She set Bubba next to her on the sofa and stood. His tail twitched. “I’m going to make a cup of chamomile. Would you like a kitty snack?”
At the word snack, Bubba’s purr turned into an all-out drone. “You sound like you’re revving for the Indy 500, sweetie.”
Annie padded on bare feet into the kitchen and rummaged around in the cupboards for a tea bag and the aluminum pouch of cat nibbles. Two definite raps sounded on the apartment’s front door and she jumped, but then stilled, her heart calming along with her mind. All part of police training to help her ascertain if there was indeed a threat, or if raccoons were in the garbage bins out back again. Silence settled over the tiny kitchen. Nothing. Bubba twitched his tail from where he sat atop the table, and she shooed him off.
“I hope those cute raccoons aren’t back. They’re handsome, but we don’t want to risk rabies, right, Bubba?” She shook the kibble bag at him, ready to offer the cat his treat, but Bubba darted to the front door, tail held high.
Annie blinked. Pets never lied about something different going on, or about intruders. She made her way to the door as quietly as she could, and peered through the peephole.
The top of a head was all she could make out, but the shade of hair and approximate height of the person was all she needed. Before she opened the large wooden door, the person looked into the peephole and knocked, more loudly this time.
“Annie, it’s me, Kit. Please. I need you.”
* * *
Kit wasted no time telling Annie that she feared for her life and wanted Silver Valley PD protection. Annie didn’t think twice; she called Josh. She spoke to Josh from the privacy of her bedroom while Kit waited in the living room.
“Where is she now, Annie?” His concerned tone reached through the phone.
“Here, with me. I’m staying upstairs from the yarn shop, in my grandmother’s apartment.”
“I sent an officer to her house earlier today but we didn’t get very far. She denied all possible charges and Valensky did, too.”
“The officer’s visit probably triggered Valensky.”
“Yeah, not unusual. If she’s ready to move forward, though, I can have charges filed against him by tomorrow. Not sure how you do it at NYPD, but at SVPD, the police officer files the charges. It’s to protect the victim and to prevent the all-too-common dropping of charges by the same victim.”
“I understand. What should I do now, besides wait for you?”
“Stay put and I’ll be over as soon as I have Becky’s sitter come over. If I can’t make it within twenty minutes, I’ll send another officer. Keep her comfortable and take note of what she tells you. I guess I don’t have to tell you that. You’re a professional.”
“Got it. And, Josh? Thanks for picking up.”
* * *
“You did the right thing by coming to Annie’s.” Josh’s voice reverberated around Ezzie’s living room. She’d been back in touch with him for less than twenty-four hours, and yet he’d come when she’d called, agreed to help her with Kit’s situation. Annie wanted to act quickly since Kit could decide against telling the police everything at any moment. She’d reached out to Josh, hoping he’d send an officer right away. He did—himself. Annie’s shoulders immediately lowered as the tension left her. Josh could put the most feral cat at ease.
“Vadim will kill me if he finds out I told anyone. He was so angry when that cop showed up at the house today, asking questions.” Kit shivered under one of Ezzie’s hand-knit afghans.
“You don’t have to go back there. There’s a women’s shelter in Cumberland County, right, Josh?” Annie’s confidence in Josh and SVPD’s efficiency were boosted by Kit’s words. But Josh hadn’t told her that he’d sent someone to Valenskys’ house. Not that he reported to her.
Josh nodded. “Yes, there is, but to be honest I think Kit would be safer either staying here with you or going to a shelter in another state.” He gave Annie a meaningful look and mouthed the letters ROC. Of course. She should have thought of it. If Valensky was part of ROC, he’d have connections everywhere and find out where Kit was without much effort. It was the sad truth about organized crime. Its effectiveness depended on networking. Nothing happened in an area the ROC claimed without the ROC knowing about it.
“He’ll never know if we play this right, Kit.” Annie wrapped her arm around the other woman’s shoulders. “You can tell him that I called you, or that my grandmother did, for help with the shop. Or, if from what you told us, he’s still passed out, he’ll never know you left.”
“Is that true, Kit? That he drinks so much on a regular basis?” Josh’s tone conveyed authority but more importantly, compassion.
She nodded. “Yes. His drinking is much worse these days than in the beginning.” She started to cry again. “He used to be much nicer to me. The beatings didn’t start until the last couple of years. First before we moved here, and then once we were in this big house.”
Annie met Josh’s gaze over Kit’s bent head. Anger, determination and compassion were reflected in his eyes. The realization that they were a team working this case together hit her. So much for her sabbatical.
“I’m only the yarn shop owner, as far as your husband is concerned, Kit. You already know from my grandmother that when I’m in New York I work for NYPD on their staff as a psychologist.” Annie braced herself, waiting for Kit’s reaction.
Kit sniffed. “I knew what you did when I came into the shop. Ezzie told me all about you. She’s so proud.”
“My point is that I’m obligated to report any evidence of possible abuse that I witness. I went to Josh with my suspicions after you were in the shop earlier.” Annie waited for Kit’s response. This was always the tricky part—garnering trust while in fact working without the victim’s tacit permission.
Kit looked Annie in the eye and nodded. “I know what you do, and while I don’t like it that you went to the police without telling me, I understand. I suppose I’m the fool for not coming forward sooner.”
“You’re no fool, Kit. You’re one brave woman.” And Annie meant it. Because she understood more than Kit knew she did. She’d been the victim of an abusive boyfriend in college.
She caught Josh’s eyes as he stared at her. Hope reflected in his expression. Somehow, they were going to save this woman and put the man who’d basically enslaved her behind bars.
As they gazed at one another, the connection moved from solely professional to a level of intimacy.
Sensual awareness hit her in the solar plexus. Annie knew the feeling—she was swimming in the deep end of the relationship ocean with this man. It was going to be all or nothing, starting with her agreeing to serve on this case while she ran her grandmother’s shop. It seemed incongruous to be on sabbatical from such a huge personal and professional loss at NYPD, then be called to serve on a dangerous local case while she did something as mundane, as far from law-enforcement ops as possible, as run a yarn shop. Annie fought the urge to speak up and say she couldn’t help, not this time. What if she screwed up, missed another warning sign like she had in NYC? But Josh’s expression kept her silent. He needed her, Kit needed her.
Being in Silver Valley was supposed to be her respite from NYPD and losing her friend. Instead she was in the middle of what could potentially become an ROC revenge case. Because ROC protected its own and she was helping Kit take down its senior-most point of contact in Silver Valley.
Instead of a respite, she’d walked into an asp’s den. No amount of fuzzy skeins of yarn could take away a lethal threat.
* * *
Josh allowed the heat in Annie’s gaze to stoke his desire for her, but not so much that it would be creepy in front of Kit. As quickly as the fire was there between them, it blew out, the shadows in Annie’s eyes indicating she was struggling. He got it. She’d arrived in Silver Valley to take a break and instead found herself facing a lethal ROC operative, via his abused spouse.
He was grateful, and not a little glad, that she’d trusted him enough to reach out again. She could have called it into SVPD dispatch, but she’d texted him. He’d almost banged his head on the headboard when Annie’s text dinged on his nightstand and he’d grabbed his phone.
Kit’s here. Come now.
Annie’s place was actually her grandmother’s, but he felt Annie’s imprint all over the space. How could he not when she sat across from him, next to Kit on the small sofa? If he were honest, he’d admit he hadn’t shaken the sense of warmth and charged energy she’d left with him at the station.
First things first.
“Annie’s going to be your right hand through all of this, Kit. You have nothing to worry about. First, are you physically okay? Do you want a physical exam?”
Kit shook her head, much to Josh’s regret but not surprise. She looked at him with a hard expression. “He hasn’t hit me in almost a month. These bruises are old—I have very fair skin. I’ve been thinking about reporting him for a long time, ever since I came to the United States.”
“How long have you been in the States?” His records reflected she’d married Valensky five years ago.
“Six years. I was brought to New Jersey and introduced to Vadim at a strip club. He said he was going to give me a new life and he took me home. I trusted him, as much as I could, because he protected me from getting pimped out. I only ever had to dance in the club. We were married a year later.”
“How old were you then?”
“The records will say I was eighteen, because that’s what my fake passport says. But I was only sixteen when we married.”
Josh saw Annie’s chest visibly rise and fall, her shock evident. He got it. As many times as you read about these cases, it was always tough to see the victim, any victim, in person.
“So you were underage and forced into a marriage.” He pictured his own sister being treated so horribly, and knew he was going to do all it took to put Vadim Valensky behind bars. Along with his cohorts. The perfect timing of this wasn’t wasted on him. A chance to take down the Silver Valley rep to ROC, just as SVPD was assigned to help intercept and prevent another group of women smuggled from a former Soviet bloc nation to be sold into sex slavery. His nape tingled the way it always did when he was onto something valid in a case. He leaned in and listened to Kit’s every word.
“Vadim is a product of how he was raised, and his alcoholism. He’s never known any different. So this part I can almost forgive, as I’ve learned to avoid him when he’s drunk. If I wanted to see Vadim go to jail for hurting me, I could have already done it, but I have to save anyone else they want to hurt.”
“Other women, and whatever else Vadim’s doing, aren’t your business, Kit. He’s a threat to you. He could kill you with his bare hands if he decides to.” Annie’s professional skills were obvious as she tried to make Kit see the danger she was in.
Kit nodded. “I know that. But he’s involved in something far worse, and I want him and the men he works with to all go to jail. That’s why I’m here. To help get Vadim and his friends caught. They are horrible human beings.”
“Your safety has to come first, though. If anything happens to you, we won’t have a case. Right, Josh?”
Annie’s blue eyes saw through to his soul, and he wondered if she realized she’d said “we.” As if they were a team and working a case together. Which, practically speaking, they were.
“Yes and no. I’m going to file charges against him.” As the reporting officer, he had the right and obligation to press charges against Valensky. Standard SVPD procedure was for the police to press the charges in order to protect the domestic violence victim and ensure the abuser met justice. Too many victims recanted after their abusers once again intimidated and manipulated them. He silently damned the Podunk cop or sheriff who’d known what was going on with Valensky years ago but never pressed charges. It would have saved Kit from untold abuse.
Annie rubbed the place between Kit’s shoulders. “We’re going to keep you safe, Kit. It’s our job.”
Annie looked at him with determination and expectation.
“Exactly. What Annie said.” The bond between him and Annie was palpable. It made him feel like he was agreeing to more than Annie’s promise to help Kit. As if she wanted more of whatever they shared than working a case together.
* * *
Annie had never been so attuned to any other officer or colleague she’d worked with as she was to Josh as he sat in Grandma Ezzie’s feminine living room, his attention on Kit. Was it wrong to revel in the pure male beauty sitting right in front of her?
Kit waved her hand at both of them, as if Annie and Josh were naive. “Trust me, I’ve made it this far with Vadim. And I’ll outlive him as long as he keeps drinking like he does. He’s never used a weapon on me, and only hits me when he’s drunk. He doesn’t remember in the morning and is ashamed for what he knows he must have done. He’s not a total monster.” Kit spoke with the wisdom of an old woman, yet she was only twenty-one or -two. Annie disagreed with her on the monster part, but kept silent.
“Can you tell me a little more about what you meant, Kit? When you said Vadim’s involved in something you don’t like?” Josh’s tone was professional yet incredibly compassionate. Annie mentally stopped adding his sexy points up—he was off the charts.
“I’m not exactly sure because he hides everything from me. But I’m almost positive he’s helping other women get tricked into coming here.” Kit looked first at Annie, then Josh. “He treats me like a little girl who can’t handle anything except getting her nails done and buying the latest designer purse. He only allowed me to go to SVCC because he thought I might be interested in learning English better.” Kit referred to Silver Valley Community College. “I can speak it well enough, from watching television, but I still need work on my writing.”
“He lets you go to school?”
“Oh, yes. I was bored and wanted to get a job, but he was dead set against it. No woman of ‘his’ ever needs to work.” She made air quotes around his and scrunched up her face in distaste. “When I told him I needed something to engage my mind, he understood. I had to time it between his blackouts, of course. I didn’t want to come home to him drowned in his own vomit.” Spoken with such ease, as if dealing with a blackout drunk was a normal part of life. For Kit, it was.
“Are you still taking classes?” Annie had met so many domestic violence victims who had zero self-esteem left. Going to college would seem beyond them, even if they had the financial ability.
“Yes. And I’ve taken whatever I wanted to take.” Underneath the layer of wariness Annie had witnessed earlier, Kit was incredibly strong and driven. A woman with a purpose. But Annie didn’t want that strength to become her downfall, either.
“That’s brave.” Annie meant it.
“I’ve finished all the classes for an associate’s degree in Criminal Justice. Vadim won’t allow me to go away to Penn State, but he agreed to allow me to take more classes. I needed his permission to pay for them, of course. Now I’m working on a second associate’s degree, in computers.” She shrugged. “I want to be able to help other women who were brought here against their will. One day I’d love to work in law enforcement myself.” She said the last shyly, her eyes downcast. “But as far as Vadim’s concerned, I took the classes for him, to be able to help him with his business. I never, ever told him my hopes to escape and start my own business.”
Annie’s insides plummeted with her hope. “Wait—you’ve helped your husband in his work for ROC—Russian Organized Crime?”
Kit’s eyes widened. “No, no, I will never help him in what he’s doing. He’s not asked me to yet, but I’ve let him think I will. That I don’t have a problem with what he does. Of course, I don’t let on how much I know, and I tell him I’ll help him with his pawnshop. He thinks I’m book smart but life stupid. Sometimes the only way to survive is to go along with the flow, as you say.”
“What exactly do you think your husband is involved with, Kit? Besides the pawnshop?” Josh spoke up, and Annie knew that he already had his suspicions of Valensky, but needed Kit to share what she knew. She tried not to hold her breath, as the entire crux of what Josh hoped to accomplish here rested on this moment.
“He’s been working with his criminal colleagues and bringing in shipments of women to the Silver Valley and Harrisburg area. Women from all over Eastern Europe and Asia, young women. They are told they’ll work in a home as a nanny and be able to go to school. But they...they never do. They have to work in a strip bar, or as escorts. Some get sent out to be married, like I was.”
“Escorts, as in prostitutes?” Josh needed Kit to give him the truth, but Annie hated that Kit had to feel all of these emotions again. Because she had no doubt that Kit had been one of these women six years ago when she’d come over.
Kit nodded. “Yes. But not on the streets, not like you see on television. This is in private men’s clubs, where the girls are never seen in public, only by the customers. He had a good friend, a criminal contact he worked with exclusively. But he’s disappeared, and now I’m not sure who Vadim’s working with.”
Annie’s jaw started to ache, and she realized she’d been clenching her teeth. It was one thing to be exposed to the sickest parts of human nature in a huge metropolis like New York, but to be faced with such ugliness injected into Silver Valley was sad. Her hometown, the place she went to in her mind whenever life on the city streets proved too much, had been infected with the same vile human behavior.
“Did you know the name of Vadim’s contact?”
“Yes. It was Yuri Vasin. I saw in the paper that he died in that crash a couple of months ago.” As Kit spoke, Annie watched Josh’s expression. It remained neutral, but when he looked at her, she recognized the gleam of determination. Josh had just confirmed that Kit’s account matched the police records. Annie gave him a quick nod before he turned back to Kit.
How was it possible to be thinking about saving Kit and her overwhelming emotions regarding Josh at the same time?
“I’m going to need you to give me an official statement about what you know of your husband’s actions, Kit. Who he talks to, where he works on a regular basis.”
Josh’s voice only increased her confusion. How could she feel so comfortable with him when she hadn’t seen him in over ten years? She’d worked with NYPD colleagues for years and still didn’t enjoy the immediate sense of trust she did with Josh.
Dare she trust Josh as she had no other? If she wanted to be an asset to SVPD as they faced down ROC, she’d have to.
