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  Gene pushed a packet toward him. “Here’s a map of the town. And a welcome package. It’s got some fudge from the Trading Post and a menu from Stella’s and a coupon for Trio. Oh, and don’t forget, every night I’m running some great movies. The drive-in is normally closed this time of year, but I run some movies for the festival. Folks like to huddle under blankets and watch the show. It’s real fun. All you have to do is open your window and you can see the screen. Tune the radio to the setting in the instructions for the sound. And the first bag of popcorn’s on me.”

  Ivan huffed and picked up the keys. Alexei said good-bye to Gene and followed him outside. The snow was falling lightly, giving the entire world a gauzy feel. Mountains surrounded the valley on three sides. Somehow the sky seemed bigger here than it did at home. He stared at the mountains in the distance.

  “This is not winter,” Ivan complained in Russian. “This is a light spring breeze where I come from.”

  Since Ivan came from a dunghill close to the Arctic Circle, he was probably right.

  “Why are we checking into this place?” Ivan asked. “We should walk back in there, put a gun to the innkeeper’s head, and make him tell us where this girl is.”

  “And then?”

  Ivan shot him a look that made Alexei know his intelligence was in question. “And then we kill the innkeeper and kill the girl and get the painting.”

  “And the American police will let us stroll out?” Alexei tried to reason with him. Ivan was a barbarian. He was pure muscle with not a thought beyond killing and taking whatever prize he was supposed to get. “This is not Russia. You can’t go around killing people and expect the cops to look the other way.”

  Ivan followed him when he started walking toward the room. “I don’t see why not. Do police in America not appreciate money? We pay them and they look the other way.”

  Alexei found the room and shoved the key in. “I don’t think it will work here. The media is different. No one will care if we kill Renard. He was a pathetic drug addict. If we kill this Gene person, someone will care. If we kill the girl, someone will care. We must be careful. These Americans are addicted to justice. Have you not watched their television?”

  Ivan sniffed. “No. I am not as interested in what goes on with all those housewives as you are. I say no one will care if I kill all of those people. I will probably get a medal.” Ivan dropped his bag beside the bed. He tossed his body down. “I will take this side. Wake me when it is time to kill someone.”

  He was asleep, snoring like a bear, almost instantly. It was a skill of his. He could sleep anywhere.

  Alexei, on the other hand, barely slept at all. The minute he dropped off he saw his brother’s bloody face. He saw how still his brother’s body was. It was hard now to remember that his brother had always laughed and smiled. His brother had been the one to tell him stories about what their lives would be like when they finally got to America. They would find good jobs and good women. He’d been nine and not terribly interested in the women, but he wanted to play for an American hockey team. That had been his dream.

  It had shattered in an instant when one of Pushkin’s thugs decided to make an example of his beloved older brother. He’d found a new dream that day. He would grow strong and kill the man responsible for his brother’s death. He’d managed to quietly kill the thug who had pulled the trigger, but Pushkin was the one he wanted.

  And he would have him.

  Alexei walked back outside and retrieved his cell phone because he wouldn’t miss a chance to check in.

  Despite the insane time difference, his cousin immediately picked up.

  “This is Nick.” Nikolai Markovic’s accent was upper class, showing off his education. One did not go to work for the SVR without a proper education. Of course, the SVR was nothing but a fancy name for what it really was—KGB. Not that Nick worked for them now. Now his cousin was busy doing exactly what he was doing. It seemed revenge was the family business.

  He spoke in Russian, the language he knew so well. “It’s Alexei. There was a change in plans. I’ve had to re-route to Colorado.”

  A chuckle came over the line. “Colorado? That is interesting. I was in Denver once. It’s not so far from Seattle.”

  It was a long way from Seattle from what Alexei knew, but his cousin’s heart was in that city. Not that he would admit it. Nick had fallen in love with a woman named Hayley. He’d walked away from her when he realized he could take down the men who’d murdered his sister. He was with a woman he’d known for years, from his time in the KGB, but his true love had been left behind.

  “Yes, I’m sure we’re close. Do you want me to look in on Hayley?” The minute he said her name, he winced, knowing Nick would feel that word deep in his soul.

  “No. She’s fine. She’s in college, where she should be. What do you need from me, cos?” The question came out in a polite blank tone, no emotion at all.

  Anything he said from here should be professional. After all, they had jobs to do. “I need all the information you can find on a woman named Jennifer Waters. She was arrested for stealing the painting. I’m still not sure she knows what she’s done, but I need intelligence on her. She was released from jail quickly once a man named Stefan Talbot became involved.”

  There was the sound of keys clicking that made Alexei think Nick was sitting in front of a computer. “I know the name Talbot. I think he’s associated with the art world. Give me a second.”

  “Stefan Talbot?” An upper-crust British accent came over the line. Desiree. She was Nick’s…lover? Partner? He wasn’t sure exactly what the gorgeous ex-MI6 agent was to his cousin. “He’s an artist. He’s also wretchedly wealthy.”

  “Yes,” Nick said. “That’s what I’m getting as well. If he’s involved, you need to be careful, Alexei. He lives in a small town, but he’s a world-renowned artist. This needs to be handled with some delicacy.”

  He didn’t want to hear that. He wasn’t exactly partnered with a man known for his delicate hand. “I’m with Ivan.”

  “Fuck.” Nick cursed a bit more and then a long sigh came over the line. “Is there any way I can talk you out of this? The last place I want you to be is stuck in some small-town jail.”

  “Killing Talbot will land you in a federal jail,” Desiree said. “We might be able to break you out, but it would take some time. And honestly, I don’t want to have that blood on my hands. No one cares if we kill mafiosos and spies. They’ll care when we have to kill prison guards.”

  Nick’s partner was often the voice of cold reason. He was on his own. He’d always known that. “Don’t worry about that. I don’t intend to get thrown in prison. I’m going to find the painting and then I’ll take down Pushkin and this can be over. I’ll join you and we’ll clear all the debts owed to our family.”

  And then they would die because it appeared his family was cursed.

  “I’ll look into it. But be careful. I’ve been following Pushkin’s movements and listening in on some of his lieutenants. I think you’re right and this is important to him. Something feels off about this. I know the painting would be important, but this feels like something more,” Nick said.

  He agreed. Even if the painting was worth a couple of million, Pushkin was pushing hard on this. The fact that the American authorities could get involved should have given his boss pause. Pushkin was nothing if not cautious. “I will be careful, but I cannot stop. I’m far too close.”

  A long sigh came over the line. “Des, I need to speak to Alexei in private.” There was a muffled sound, as though Nick had put his hand over the phone. It was a moment before he returned and then his cousin sounded haggard. “I’m sorry for the delay. Des is unhappy with me at the moment. She thinks I’m distracted.”

  He understood what that meant. Desiree thought Alexei was a distraction. “I won’t bother you again. You’ve done much for me. Perhaps if we both come out on the other side of this, we can get together for a drink.”

  “You won
’t come out of this, Alexei. I know you. If you keep to this path, you’ll die.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “Yes, I am,” Nick replied simply. “I’m a hypocrite, but I also have backup and you don’t. Come home and when I can, I will help you.”

  He was too close to the prize. “I can’t.”

  “You don’t have to give up your whole life,” Nick said, his voice low over the line. “I gave up mine. Listen to me. I wish I could go back to Hayley, but there’s too much blood on my hands. Don’t make the same mistake.”

  He wouldn’t even know what to do with his life if he did go home. He was in far too deep. “I’ll call you when I get back. Stay safe.”

  “Good-bye, cousin. I’ll send you a report soon. Watch your back.” The line went dead.

  Alexei shoved the phone in his pocket and dragged cold air into his lungs. The conversation with Nikolai had put him in a strange mood. He should have stayed in his room until the job was done, but he was restless. He found himself walking, studying this odd world.

  Damn, but his brother would have been fascinated by this place. He would have talked all afternoon with the Gene person, asking him questions about the town and the people Gene had met. Mikhail had never met a stranger.

  Alexei found his feet moving toward the front office. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the man. He could find out more about the town. He was supposed to be a tourist. He would be a friendly tourist. Friendly tourists talked to people. His stomach growled. Maybe he would go to the diner after he talked to Gene. It could be reconnaissance, a way to bide his time until Nick came through with his report.

  Yes, it couldn’t hurt to explore this place a bit. Getting to know these people wouldn’t change anything.

  Chapter Seven

  Jen pushed through the glass door of Stella’s diner and was welcomed by a nice blast of heat. She shook off the cold, dragging the parka over her shoulders and hanging it up on one of the hooks on the wall. A sense of nostalgia nearly overwhelmed her. She’d worked in this little diner for a year and a half. Though she’d had a ton of jobs before she’d waitressed at Stella’s, this was where she had been the happiest. Stella had been the best boss, always willing to work out a scheduling conflict or just to listen to her employees. Stella had given her a job and a home. Jen was shocked at the way tears filled her eyes.

  Why the hell had she left?

  Two arms wrapped around her, enfolding her in a sympathetic embrace. Callie was always quick with a hug, always seemed to know when she needed one and never held back. “Oh, sweetie, it’s all right.”

  “I left her.” Jen’s heart clenched. She bit back a sob. She was in the middle of the diner. It was after the lunch rush, but the place was still packed. And she didn’t care. “She gave me a job and took care of me, and I didn’t even say good-bye.”

  A throaty voice broke through Jen’s misery. “Well, I figured Stef did something to make you run, baby girl. Although I do wish you would have written to let me know you were okay.”

  Jen turned to see Stella Benoit standing at the counter. She was a forty-something bottle blonde who wore far too much makeup. She was entirely beautiful to Jen’s mind. Stella had given her so much more than a job. She’d given her a home and a place where she could be who she wanted to be.

  “I’m sorry.” It was the only thing Jen could think to say.

  Stella’s eternal helmet of blonde hair nodded. “All right then, sweetie. You come and sit down. I’ll get you a nice cup of coffee. You want some food?”

  “I would love a burger. I haven’t had a decent burger since I left.” A huge weight lifted off her shoulders. Stella wasn’t tossing her out. She had Callie at her side. She might be able to come home after all.

  Suddenly Dallas seemed so far away. The fight she’d had with Stef had been a silly reason to have left her home. She’d done what she’d been taught to do. She left when the going got a little rough. It was what her mother always did. Every time her artist mother had broken up with a boyfriend or gotten into financial trouble, she would move on to the next city. It would be better in Denver or Cleveland or Miami, she would say.

  Life would never be better than she’d had it in Bliss. Bliss was the end of the road for her. She could run as far as she liked, but this was her home.

  “You have to stop, or you’re going to make me cry.” Callie reached out, her hands brushing along Jen’s cheeks as she slid into the booth across from her.

  “I’m happy to be back. I didn’t think I’d be this emotional.” A great sense of calm came over her. She took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar smells of frying burgers, the piney scent of the cleaner Stella used on the floor, and slightly mangy dog. She felt a smile cross her face as she looked down at an old friend. “Hey, Quigley.”

  The enormous dog shoved his head under her hand, his not-so-subtle request for attention. Jen obliged and looked up at his owner.

  Rachel Harper stood by the dog she’d taken on when she’d married the Harper twins. Rachel was a lovely woman in her early thirties with strawberry blonde hair, pretty green eyes, and a wry smile that let the world know she didn’t take it too seriously. Jen’s eyes caught on the biggest change since the last time she’d seen Rachel. She appeared to have swallowed a beach ball.

  “Don’t even say it.” Rachel stopped her with a shake of her head. “Damn, you’re exactly what I need, another skinny thing in town. Scoot, Callie.”

  Callie snorted sweetly as she made room for Rachel and her soon-to-be-born kiddo. “Yeah, ’cause you’re not glowing and gorgeous.”

  “It’s hard to feel that way when I waddle like a penguin.” Rachel snapped her fingers gently at the dog. “Q, take a load off.”

  The big mutt lay down on the floor by her feet, his head settling onto his enormous paws, and an audible sigh came from his chest as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

  “Is there a reason Q is following you around?” Callie asked.

  Rachel’s eyes rolled, but there was an indulgent smile on her face. “Max. He’s making me and Rye crazy. He’s got Dr. Burke on speed dial, and he watches me like a hawk. You would think I was the first woman to ever give birth.”

  “He loves you,” Jen said with a little sigh of her own. Max had been the baddest man around until the day he’d met Rachel.

  Rachel sat back. “Rye loves me, too, but he doesn’t feel the need to know where I am and what my blood pressure is twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I swear Max wouldn’t let me drive until Rye had it out with him.”

  Callie had gone a little white in the face, and suddenly she was staring out at the street.

  Rachel continued to praise her “reasonable” husband, missing the tells Callie was giving off. “Rye is the reasonable one. If I didn’t have him, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  Oh, but she remembered what Callie looked like when she was hiding something. She shook her head and pointed to Callie. “I don’t think so. She knows something.”

  Now Callie’s face flushed, and she had to stifle a laugh because her friend’s glasses went the slightest bit foggy.

  Rachel swung her head around like a predator sensing an easy kill. “What do you know, Callie Hollister-Wright? You tell me right now.”

  Callie’s fingers drummed nervously against the tabletop and she shot Jen a stare. “Thanks a lot. Now I’m going to get in trouble. Fine. Rye’s not as reasonable as you think, but he is way sneakier than Max. The reason he’s okay with you driving is that he had a GPS installed on your vehicle. It tracks you, and Nate and Rye both have the codes so they know where you are all the time. That’s why Max backed off.”

  “That son of a bitch. I swear if I could get my foot more than three inches off the ground I would shove it up his ass. Reasonable? He’s…” Rachel’s eyes got watery. “He’s so sweet.” Tears began to fall. “And Max. I love them so much.”

  Rachel buried her head in Callie’s shoulder and started to cry. Quigley got off th
e ground, and suddenly his head was in Rachel’s lap. He whined a little as though he couldn’t stand his mistress’s tears.

  “Hormones,” Callie mouthed as she patted Rachel’s hair. “She’ll be fine.”

  “Max says I can’t go anywhere without Q.” Rachel’s words came out in gasps between sobs. “He’s trained the dog to come find him if my water breaks. I spilled a glass of water on the floor the other day, and ten minutes later Max was trying to take me to the hospital. Do you know how crazy you have to be to train your dog like that?”

  “Crazy in love,” Callie said soothingly.

  Max was crazy in love with his wife. There was no question about that. For Max and Rye, Rachel was the sun in the sky. It didn’t come as a surprise that they felt the need to watch over her every minute of the day. They wanted to know what happened to her. They wanted to be there if she came to harm, to love and protect her. If Rachel had been arrested like Jen had been, they would have been right on the case.

  Like Stef.

  “How did Stef know?” It suddenly struck her that Rye wasn’t the only sneaky bastard. “I didn’t think about it at the time. This morning was crazy but it’s coming together now. Nate said something about a PI. I thought the police called because they found his number in my phone. I didn’t know who to use as next of kin. I didn’t put an emergency contact in my paperwork. But that’s not what happened, is it?”

  Callie continued to soothe Rachel, but her eyes flared briefly before she answered. “I believe he set an army of private investigators on your ass the minute he found out you had left town. He knew you were going to Dallas before the bus stopped in Tulsa.”

  Damn him. He was so confusing. “Why?”

  Rachel’s head came off Callie’s shoulder, and both of them turned to her before glancing back at each other.

  “Is she really that stupid?” Rachel asked, her voice going husky. She picked up a napkin and wiped at her eyes. Q settled back down.

  “Yes,” Callie replied, “but I have hope for her. At least she’s finally asking the question.”