Luther entered the passcode and waited while the biometrics technology scanned his face, left retina and hand. The large outer door to Trail Hikers headquarters opened without a sound, the pneumatic hinges the best money could buy.
He walked through two more security zones, taking time to enter the appropriate identifying information, and finally into the main reception lobby. He approached the tall counter-style desk and nodded at the receptionist.
“I’m Claudia’s next appointment, I believe.”
She tapped her computer screen and nodded. “Yes, you are. Follow me.” He was escorted to an area behind the bulkhead that boasted Trail Hikers, Inc., in large black letters against a fabric panel. He knew it was all for show—the panel was really a bulletproof barrier protecting the CEO from potential lethal attacks. As far as Luther knew, Trail Hikers had never been compromised nor its mission blown, but in the Information Age of constant hacking and computer vulnerabilities, it was only a matter of time.
“Here you go.” The receptionist entered her information into the scanning device next to the CEO’s office, and he did the same. Once the system corroborated their inputs, the door slid open, revealing that it was actually not solid oak but six inches of steel encased in three-inch wooden panels. Nothing but the best was on-site at TH headquarters.
As soon as he stepped over the threshold, the door slid shut with an impressive tiny click, not unlike one of his cupboard doors closing. Immediately he was aware of the silence, save for the light clicking of fingers on a keyboard as Claudia Michele, CEO of TH and retired two-star US Marine Corps General, worked at her bay of computers.
She looked up from her desk, and he felt the cool blue gaze as much as he saw it from across the room. Her silver bob accentuated her still-youthful face and intelligent gaze. As he drew closer, he noticed lines on her skin that hadn’t been there just months ago. ROC ravaged all who went after it. And ROC was only a sliver of the worldwide ops that Claudia was in charge of.
“Good afternoon, Luther. Take a seat. I’m finishing up some last-minute orders.”
Luther complied, sinking into one of the plush yet functional chairs in front of her contemporary glass tabletop. Claudia shoved her keyboard to the side.
“Would you like a drink? Water, coffee, tea? There are energy drinks in that small fridge over there, too.” She motioned at a very chic yet efficient kitchenette that occupied a portion of the far wall to her right.
“No, thank you. I’m in between gathering equipment for the stakeout and going over our provisions with the SVPD employee I’m working with.”
“Yes, Kit Danilenko. What was your first impression of her?” Claudia seemed to assume they’d only met in Colt’s office.
“I had lunch with her the other day, to follow up on our initial meeting with Colt.” It was important Claudia knew he wasn’t making a knee-jerk judgment. “She’s intelligent, misses nothing if the way she hung on to every word Colt said is a clue. But she’s also...” He searched for the best adjective. Kit wasn’t shy, as that implied naivete. She had an innocence about her, but that wasn’t something he wanted to let Claudia know he’d sensed. “Guarded. As if she doesn’t quite trust everything, or everyone.”
Claudia flashed him a quick smile. “Excellent assessment. She’s unsworn because of some medical issues that she’s still working on.”
“You mean mental health, I assume? Not that it’s any of my business, unless she’s prone to getting ill to the point of not working.”
Claudia shook her head. “No, she’s past that place. And you’re right, for now it’s none of your business. But I’m not bound by HIPAA, and since you’re working so closely with her, you need to know that she’s been through a hell of a lot.”
“So Kit’s why you called me in here?” He’d been hopeful there was new intel on Ivanov or Markova.
“Yes. And no, there isn’t anything more on Ivanov. He’s hiding from ROC as much as us, with all of his accounts frozen.”
“I have to believe Markova is his ticket to financial solvency. Otherwise why keep her alive?”
“We don’t know that she’s still with him, or alive. It’s a day-to-day question. They were last sighted together almost two weeks ago, and that was a shaky witness. He might have another ROC agent or accomplice with him. Markova might have been fed to the wolves already.”
“True.”
“Back to Kit. You know the basics on her, and it sounds like you’re getting to know one another more as you prepare to go in the field.” Claudia maintained her professional demeanor, but Luther felt a tug of guilt, as if Claudia knew he was too interested in Kit. Crap.
“Basically, she escaped an abusive marriage to Vadim Valensky, a local ROC thug. We only care about it at our level of operations because of how the ROC’s many spiderweb threads interconnect. Kit’s a solid entity in that she cooperated with authorities while still at risk from her ex, and on top of that she’d begun criminal justice studies at HACC.” Claudia referred to the local community college, Harrisburg Area Community College. Luther knew Harrisburg was the nearest largish city to Silver Valley, less than twenty minutes away.
“Sounds like she wanted to be a cop.”
“She did, and does. But once she graduated from Penn State she’d figured out that working through the years of what she’d endured wasn’t going to happen overnight. She didn’t want to risk being away from law enforcement for such a long time, so she figured out that her language abilities lent well to her being an unsworn agent. SVPD is filled to the brim right now with sworn officers and detectives, so it all worked out for her. Colt needed the language and cultural expertise she brings to the table.”
“Forgive me, Claudia, but I’m not getting what this is really all about. You’re filling in a few details, but nothing that’s going to affect how Kit and I work together in the field.” He knew that he was their single weapons expert, and the one who’d be firing anything as needed. If they did their job right, they’d be out of the hunting area before the takedown occurred, but one thing about ROC he’d learned to depend upon: nothing ever went as expected.
“I’m vouching for Kit. In the most professional, unprofessional way. If you need her to handle a weapon, I’ve no doubt she’d do it with aplomb. Legally she still can’t be a sworn officer and I’m not certain she’d even want to, now that she’s enjoyed over two years of solid, dynamic work with us and SVPD. She’s healed, Luther. The woman I met when Vadim was taken in is light-years from who she is today.”
“I’ve known folks who go for years with their mental health issues under control, well managed. Yet one instance can trigger a chain of biochemical events that leave them in a rough place again.”
“Speaking from experience, Luther?” Claudia missed nothing, and she knew his file, too.
“Perhaps.” He wasn’t hiding anything from Claudia or his employer, the US Government via Trail Hikers. He’d suffered from PTSD after his stint in Iraq, when the National Guard unit he was assigned to spent a year in the country. An armored vehicle he’d been riding to a remote post had hit an IED. His concussion hadn’t been as bad as many TBIs his teammates suffered from, but the emotional and mental damage had been done. It took him three years of intense counseling to get through it, and his main employer at the time, the FBI, had fully supported his rehabilitation. “I haven’t had an episode since the last one, right after I got back from the war.”
“But we all fear a rebound, something we can’t foresee triggering it, don’t we?” Claudia spoke as if she, too, understood the suffering he and so many other troops went through.
“Yes, that’s always there. But you and your superiors trust I’m good enough to serve in this job.”
“We do. You are.” She looked away, as if there were a window in the wall instead of the global map that indicated TH operation sites. When her glance returned to him, Luther saw a softness in her usually professional demeanor. “Take care of yourself out there, is all I’m saying, Luther. Kit can take care of herself.”
“Roger.” They discussed the ins and outs of trying to remove ROC’s sticky tentacles from the East Coast and hopefully the rest of North America. Afterward Luther drove back to his apartment, the back of his four-wheeler loaded with enough clothing and hunting gear to last them a month if need be.
He’d heard Claudia, and trusted her. So why was he feeling uneasy about working with Kit?
It’s yourself you don’t trust.
Kit sat in one of the two easy chairs in front of the fireplace at the coffee shop. There were a few chain coffee shops in the surrounding Harrisburg suburbs but she didn’t care for the busier atmosphere. The warmth and friendliness of this café had wrapped its arms around her more than once after a long day, and most especially in the early days and months after her divorce. She munched on the tiny gingerbread man that had been served hanging from the edge of her latte. It was one her favorite seasonal drinks, and they’d just brought it out this week before Thanksgiving.
“You’re quiet for someone who couldn’t wait to meet.” Annie sat across from her. “I figure it has to be about something really juicy since you can’t discuss it at the station.”
Kit nodded. “It does. This is my second lunch hour away from work in two days, so you know it’s um, exciting. I think I’m having some um, different kinds of feelings about my partner for an upcoming op.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed. “I heard we had some developments in the ROC op. You’re involved? As an interpreter?”
“Basically, yes. But it involves going undercover for a day or two. Maybe a week.”
“Where? Or wait, don’t tell me. Oh, no—you’re going to miss our Thanksgiving!” Annie frowned but didn’t belabor it—she worked at SVPD and TH; she knew that ops came first. “Do you need anything from me, clothes or otherwise?”
“No, I’m good. I’m even taking some knitting with me because you know how stakeouts are. They can get long and boring.”
“Except for the person you’re working with... Is it the dude I saw you walk out of Colt’s office with last week?”
“Wow, I didn’t even see you then.” Heat rushed up her throat and enflamed her cheeks. She’d really become way too invested in Luther Darby, considering the short amount of time she’d known him. “Yes, and we have been talking each day, texting, and met at the diner for lunch yesterday. All about business, of course.” Mostly.
Annie laughed. “You answered my question. First question is—why him, why now?”
Kit swallowed some of her gingerbread latte before answering. “The last several months I’ve been noticing men more, I suppose. You know, in that way you say is perfectly natural. But it’s not anything I’ve followed through on. It seems too much effort. You know, to first get to know someone, make sure they’re not another abusive man, then to have to spill my guts about my past...” She looked out the window at the snowflakes that drifted past. An early snowstorm was predicted for Thanksgiving weekend. “I don’t feel like I have the energy to do all of that, just for a date.”
Annie leaned forward and briefly touched her wrist. “You don’t have to do all of that, Kit. Checking out a guy, making sure he’s safe, that’s something we all have to do. As for more than a conversation or coffee date, there’s no reason to tell anyone your past. Not until you’re ready .”
“You’d know about that more than I do.” Kit’s frankness didn’t put off Annie—they were pretty much best friends. Even with Annie and Josh becoming a couple, Kit hadn’t lost the first friend she’d made since being trafficked to the US from Ukraine, as a teen.
“Mmm. You know, Kit, it doesn’t matter why or what—we all have a past. Sure, some of our histories are more traumatic than others, and yours is at the top of that.”
“Except it could be so much worse. I had a loving family and decent childhood. I made stupid decisions once I turned sixteen.”
“And that’s not uncommon, no matter where you grow up. But you paid dearly for those choices. It’s natural to be hesitant to do the work to have a life partner, or in your case, make that first date happen after such a long haul of recovery.”
“It’s thrown me, is all.”
“What’s that?”
“The physical attraction. I can’t think of another reason why I was so fascinated by this LEA officer’s hands while Chief gave us the details of our op.” And while he played with his straw wrapper earlier.
Annie giggled. “Oh, I can think of reasons, trust me.”
“Stop.” Kit couldn’t stop laughing, though. Annie’s humor was infectious as was her joie de vivre.
“We’ve talked about needing to trust yourself again. What does your therapist say about this?”
“I haven’t had time to talk to her, not since we’ve been assigned together. And besides, this is just the start of me even thinking about dating, right? I’m not about to get close to someone I’m working with, not on such an important op.”
Annie shrugged. “Hey, chances are that yes, this is just the first guy to legitimately rev your engine since you got your life back. There will be plenty more. But, life can be far more interesting and surprising than we’re able to imagine.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I think it’s always a good idea to keep an open mind. Sometimes the people we’re thrown together with at work become our family.”
“And spouse.” Kit winked at Annie, who’d fallen for Josh Avery, the SVPD officer and Trail Hikers undercover agent who’d helped her get Kit out of Vadim’s clutches. Together, with Kit’s information, they’d taken down Kit’s ex and stopped ROC from trafficking young and underage women into Silver Valley.
“Yes, and stepdaughter.” Annie’s contented expression elicited a pang of longing that Kit had never felt before. She’d spent the last few years getting her own life together, so that the prospect of having to share it with another person, much less entertain the thought of children, hadn’t been on her mind.
“I have to admit I don’t like all of the emotions that being attracted to one man causes.”
Annie’s grin was understanding. “You mean how your mind future-trips to a happily-ever-after?”
Kit knew her eyes widened, her blush deepened. “Yes! What is that?”
“It’s just biology. Hormones have a way of throwing all of us off-kilter.” Annie tapped on her phone and stood. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Have you been busy at the station?”
“Yeah. Domestic violence victims seem to never be in short supply. But our community outreach to the local churches and community college has made a big difference. We’re getting women to report and agree to go to a shelter before their situation escalates. You had a lot to do with that, Kit.”
Kit knew that Annie wanted to give her credit for speaking up publicly about what she’d been through, to encourage other women to step forward and stop the abusive life they’d become a part of. But she wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without Annie’s help.
“If you hadn’t noticed the bruises on my face and neck in the yarn shop, I might still be with Vadim.” She shuddered. “Or more likely, dead.”
“But you’re not. You’re here. You’ve followed your dream of becoming a law enforcement agent, and don’t scrunch up your face. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a sworn officer, either. We both give support to the force that they need. Not everyone is meant to carry a weapon and bust down doors.”
Annie’s frankness made Kit laugh. She stood and hugged her dear friend. “I’ll see you back at the station whenever we get back.”
“You will.” Annie hugged her back. “Thanks, girlfriend.”
“For what?”
“For being you.”
“You’re okay with watching Koshka?” She knew her companion for the last couple of years would be in good hands.
Annie nodded. “Of course. I adore that smarty-pants.”
A giggle escaped Kit’s throat. “She sees you coming a mile away.” Koshka always jumped up on Annie’s lap the minute she sat down in Kit’s apartment.
“We’ll be just fine while you’re gone. And so will you, Kit.”
Kit sure hoped so.
“Did you tell Colt or Claudia about your possible stalker?”
“No, but I will. It’s been nonstop for me between my caseload and preparing to go in the field.”
“Have you had any more incidents?”
“No, except I did see Mishka at the diner yesterday.”
Annie put her coffee down. “Wait—you didn’t even call me! What did he say?”
“Nothing. He ignored me, after he gave me a really hard stare. That’s it.”
“That’s creepy.”
“He’s always been a creep, no question. He picked up a to-go order and left, nothing to report.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way. Still, tell Colt.” Annie picked up her coffee and stood to leave. Kit followed, preoccupied with the memory of seeing Mishka yesterday and how she’d not reacted. She wanted to believe it was a measure of how far she’d come, but was it because of Luther sitting across from her?
She made a silent vow not to get too reliant on Luther’s strength.
It’s too late.
Kit made her way up the steep stairs of her century-old apartment building, silently cursing the planet-killing plastic grocery bags as they cut into her forearms. She’d bought too much for it to all fit into her reusable bags and had hung the plastic bags on her arms to avoid multiple trips up and down the stairs. Living on the top floor was appealing most of the time, affording her a view of the sunrise and sunset over downtown Silver Valley, from her front room and back bedroom windows.
The two long flights of stairs also gave her some decent exercise on a daily basis. But lugging pounds of food upstairs wasn’t fun, no matter how fit she was .
She crested the last rise and stepped on the landing. And froze.
Luther stood in front of her apartment door. The only light was a single overhead bulb and the quickly failing daylight that shone through the high, small window at the opposite end of the hallway. The twilight glowed around Luther, emphasizing the long lean mass of muscle that defined his physique. He leaned against the corridor wall, his phone in hand as if he’d been passing the time while waiting for her. His gaze was on her, as he’d probably heard her footfalls since she’d entered the building.
“You’re early.” It was five forty-five and they’d agreed on six.
His dark brow rose, and in the dim light she couldn’t see what emotions reflected in his eyes.
“Hello to you, too.” He quickly consumed the space between them in a few long strides. Grasping several of the bags, he took them from her.
“Sorry. I like to have things planned to the minute, too much so. It’s good you’re early. I’m planning to go to the Friday night knit and chat at the yarn shop, at seven.” He walked with her to her door and she immediately noticed how natural it felt.
“No apology necessary. I get it. Our line of work necessitates exact timelines.” He faced her at the door. “You’re in good shape, Kit. I’ve only got half of what you’re hauling up here and it’s heavy.” Just as he had in the diner, he complimented her without sounding like it was a slimy means to get closer to her. Not something she’d experienced in her marriage.
She didn’t reply as she shoved her key into the lock. Hoisting a bag onto her hip, she turned the handle and pushed open the door. “Come on in. You can put everything on the counter.”
She felt Luther’s presence behind her, his footsteps quiet but definite. The door clicked closed behind them, and she knew he’d taken care to check it—the hinges were rusty and prevented the door from closing on its own.
A sense of pride filled her as she tried to see her home from his viewpoint. Cream tones on the living area walls yielded to bright sunny yellow in the kitchen, where a skylight positioned over the entire room spilled remaining daylight onto the granite counter. She dumped her bags, and Luther added his by hers while she flipped the switch, immediately illuminating the clean, cheery atmosphere she’d striven for when she’d decorated the apartment two years ago.
“Nice place.” His appreciation seemed sincere as his gaze took in her knickknacks, the potted herbs and the floral monthly planner attached to the refrigerator with magnets. “You’re supposed to be going to the yarn place at seven?” In this light she could see his eyes, and their dark depths yielded to deep, deep blue with specks of gray.
“Yes. Every Friday night that I’m not working. It’s a fun place to hang out.” She looked at her watch. “We’ve got plenty of time to get our work done.”
“I still can’t get over the fact that you knit.” His incredulity struck an old chord, a tight wire she’d thought she’d clipped and thrown out. She crossed her arms in front of her and looked up at him, refusing to break eye contact.
“What’s your problem with fiber art?”
“Fiber...art?” He ran his hand over his face, and if she hadn’t met him while he was a cool and put-together agent back at the station, in Colt’s office, she’d swear he was trying to regroup. Backpedaling, to recall one of her favorite American expressions.
“Do you think that I’m supposed to be working 24/7?”
“No, none of the above. You impressed me as all business, though, back at the department and at lunch the other day. Of course you have outside interests, but I associate knitting with my grandmother. I know it’s more popular again, and I’m not slamming you.”
“Good to know. What are your hobbies?” If she was going to allow her hormones to have their first outing since her hard-won freedom from the enslavement of her abusive marriage, she may as well know something about the man who’d awakened that part of her.
The sexy part.
“Ah, well, I enjoy hiking, rock climbing. Skiing when I have more time. But the last few years have been short on recreation.”
“Because you’re working on ROC?”
He looked at her as if sizing up an opponent. What on earth? How could she pose any kind of threat to him, the seasoned agent who’d won the approval of Claudia Michele and Colt Todd? Kit knew that only the best were assigned to the ROC takedown. All of SVPD worked on the resulting crimes—drug dealing, high-end retail thefts, money laundering, prostitution from the human trafficking that had finally been halted.
“Yes. Ivanov in particular. I’m one of many who’d give their left nut to have him in jail.”
She laughed. “I can’t say I’d give one of my ovaries to catch Ivanov and Markova, but I’m willing to do pretty much whatever it takes.”
The mission to dismantle ROC by eliminating Ivanov was left to only the best of the best.
Kit knew this because, so far, she hadn’t met anyone with her Russian language ability. Not in the Harrisburg area, anyway. There were thousands of Russian-speaking Americans in the Susquehanna Valley but not so many with her background of having been trafficked and then escaping, followed by becoming a law enforcement employee. And Luther had to be the best TH had to offer.
“I need to get these organized, the cold stuff in the refrigerator.” Kit grasped at any distraction from his gaze, her reaction to his nearness too much of a distraction.
“This looks like enough food for a month.” Luther grinned as he methodically unpacked the bags, handing her the perishables and stacking the nonperishables on the counter.
“It’s not all for our trip.” She opened her freezer, a drawer at the bottom of the appliance, and dropped in several bags of vegetables. “I figure I’ll be tired when we get back and I was low on food. This way I won’t have to go to the grocery store right before I get back to work.”
“Do you always think ten steps ahead?”
She paused and looked at him over her shoulder. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
“That sounds like the makings of a good agent to me.”
She slowly straightened and faced him. As she opened her mouth to reply, a shadow passed over Luther’s face. Over the entire kitchen. The words she’d meant to say came out as a loud scream and she pointed.
Luther looked up just in time to see the man with the gun pointed at them through the skylight.
“Move!”
Luther acted on pure instinct and years of experience. He simultaneously shoved and lifted Kit up and out of the kitchen area, the sound of bullets shattering the skylight piercing the dusky quiet. He motioned toward the door as he pulled his weapon, and Kit bolted for their escape, opening it and running into the corridor with him on her heels.
“Go downstairs and into the coffee shop—have someone call 9-1-1.”
“Where are you going?”
“No time to explain. Just go.”
Her firm request took him by surprise. Other agents usually followed his orders without question. Footsteps sounded over their head, and he ran down the hallway to the other end of the building. Where the steps to the roof were. He’d checked out the entire building before he’d waited at Kit’s door.
Halting abruptly at the foot of the stairs, Kit barreled into him.
“Downstairs, now!” He bellowed at her before he began the climb to the roof. To his relief she turned and ran back down the hall toward the main apartment stairwell. It allowed him to refocus and aim his gun in front of him as he prepared to open the door onto the roof.
His Glock .45 cocked and ready to fire, he opened the door slowly. The winter air hit his cheeks and then his lungs as he came out and did a full 360 sweep of the top of the building. The shooter was gone, the broken glass of Kit’s skylight the only evidence he’d been there. Until a movement caught his eye and he saw the figure, dressed all in black, on the next rooftop.
“Stop! Police!” He began a full pursuit, bracing himself for what he had to do. It wasn’t more than a six-foot gap between this building and the next, but if he missed it—no, he wouldn’t. His rock climbing skills proved worthy as he leaped across the gap, landing on his feet on the tarred roof. He ran to the back, to where the fire escape provided a quick escape for the assailant.
But as he reached the edge of the roof and looked over, he saw the shooter disappear across the street, on the other side of the railroad tracks that ran through downtown Silver Valley.
“Son of a puppy.” He pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial for SVPD. Detailing where he thought the shooter might be headed, he heard sirens already on the way.
But just like him, he was afraid the units were too late. The shooter had gotten away.
He put the phone in his back pocket and holstered his weapon, climbing down the fire escape, which landed him in front of the back entrance to the coffee shop. When he’d picked the apartment flat he had, he’d had no idea he and Kit were in the same building. Now that he knew they were, he’d thought he’d make sure she was safe throughout all of this op. He hadn’t planned to tell her he was in the same building, not yet. Luther was a man with many targets on his head—the price for being a good agent.
But the shooter had been over Kit’s skylight, and when Luther looked up, they were pointing their weapon at Kit.
Who was after Kit? And was it going to jeopardize the overall mission to bring down Ivanov and Markova?