Tell Me No Lies (33 page)

She replaced the pin inside the locket just as she heard Edward returning to the porch. She leaped up.

"I made some soup," she called. "Sure you won't have some?"

The door opened, slamming against the wall, and she froze.

Miki Petrov stood smiling in the doorway, arms outstretched to embrace her. "Hello,
dorogaya."

19

Heading south, Hank negotiated a twist of the Taconic and ended his cell phone call. No answer from Apple House. He wondered if Lydia had called Rose anyway and she was already down at the police station. What would she have done with Mandy? Dropped her at Ben's probably. Then why hadn't he heard from his brother? They might disagree about the future of the farm, might argue about a lot of things, but Ben wouldn't have blown off Trey. Not when he was in trouble.

He sighed, punched in Ben's number. Lori answered the phone, sleepy and alarmed.

"It's Hank, Lori. Is Ben there? I've got some bad news."

"Hank? What's the matter? Is it Rose?"

For a moment, Hank was confused. "Rose? No, it's Trey."

From beyond his sister-in-law he heard Ben. "Let me talk to him." Then his brother's voice. "What's wrong, where are your

"On my way. I got a call about Trey. He's probably going to be arrested."

"What? What are you talking about? Why?"

"He broke into a bike shop and assaulted the owner."

"That's crazy. I know he's been a handful, but "

"Look, I got a call from dispatch. They've already sent over a unit to bring him in."

"Wait a minute." Ben turned away from the phone. "Lori, go check on Trey. Hank says he's being arrested."

"Arrested? But "

"Just go and see."

Hank said, "Ben, what's going on?"

"Just a minute. Lori's going to check on Trey."

"Check on him? What do you mean?"

"The kids are here. It was easier than driving over to the farm every morning to get them."

Hank paused, that news creating ripples of concern. "What about Mom, where is she?"

"At home. Why?'

"She didn't answer the phone."

"The kids were here. I told her to turn off the ringer and get a good's night's sleep." The simple explanation loosened the knot in Hank's chest, but didn't entirely dispel his uneasiness.

Lori came on the line, her voice subdued. "Hank, Trey is fine. Fast asleep."

What? "You're sure? I mean you checked to make sure it wasn't a bunch of blankets bundled up under the covers?"

"I'm positive. I'm looking right at him, and he's sleeping like an angel. I have to tell you, he's really been terrific. Helped Mandy with her homework and everything. Seems to have turned a corner."

Apprehension crawled up Hank's back.

From what must have been another extension, Ben said, "Why would someone say Trey was arrested?" He sounded worried.

The trickle of disquiet was fast turning into a river. "Must have been a misunderstanding. Look, I'm sorry I woke you. I'll be back in a few days. Give my love to Trey and Mandy. And thanks for helping out."

"We're family, Hank. That's what we do." Ben said it simply, a statement of fact. And of love. For the first time in a long time, Hank felt a burst of affection for his brother.

"Take care of yourself," Ben said quietly. "Come home soon." Hank heard the unsaid message. Don't take chances. Be careful. We've lost enough.

"You got it." The words were a promise between them. A promise Hank wasn't sure he could keep.

He disconnected and immediately the phone rang back.

"Hank, it's Jake Greenlaw. Dispatch got a call about your nephew, and I'm on graveyard this week. They sent me to check it out, but everything's fine."

"I know. I just talked to my brother. Trey's at his house. Asleep."

"That's good. Sorry about the false alarm."

Sirens were going off in his head. "Do me a favor. Run by the farm and make sure my mother is okay."

The Taconic didn't have much of an easement to pull off, so Hank took the next exit, turned into the first side road and braked. He waited, eyes on the inky road ahead. He'd already been given one reprieve tonight, two would be more than he hoped for.

He leaped for the cell phone when it rang.

"Hank, it's Jake Greenlaw. I "

"Let me have this," his mother's voice said. "Henry? Are you there?"

"Yeah, Ma, I'm here."

"Are you all right? Where are you? Why did you send an officer here? He woke me up. Scared the wits out of me."

His mother's blunt voice, even rife with irritation, sent a tide of relief through him. "Sorry. It's all been a misunderstanding. Go back to sleep."

"Are you coming back soon?' Again that unspoken message pulled at him.
We love you. Be careful. Come home.

The air around him seemed to shimmer with warning. "Soon as I can. Let me talk to the officer."

"You're sure you're all right?"

Despite the anxiety, the corners of his lips tipped upward. If he had any doubts about his mother's well-being, her doggedness wiped them away. "I'm fine. Put Officer Green-law back on."

"Everything's okay here," Greenlaw said.

'Thanks for checking it out."

"No problem."

He disconnected and stared into the shadows. Trey was fine, his mother was fine. But Alex ...

A terrible thought crashed into his head, and he struggled for breath, fear wrenching his chest. In an instant, he turned the car around, shot into the parkway like a demon and gunned the gas.

***

Alex stared at Petrov as though he were a ghost she wished would disappear. But he was solid and real and not going anywhere. He stepped into the cabin.

"You've been hiding from me,
dorogaya."

She flashed a smile, hoped he bought it. "Just a small retreat. A rest."

How had he found her? Her mind kept beating out that question. How? How? And where was Edward?

"A rest? Here?" He looked around distastefully. "No, my dear, this is not a place where people like you and me go to rest. This is where we go to ground." He gave her a short, disappointed smile. "What are you hiding from?"

"Nothing. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?"

She shook her head. Where was her practiced calm? She could barely breathe, let alone think.

"I've had news about you," Petrov said.

"You shouldn't put stock in rumors."

"Ah, but this, I am afraid, is true." He stepped forward. She stepped back. "You've been less than candid with me,
dorogaya.
Or should I say Aleksandra Ivanovna?"

Her true name on his lips choked the air from her lungs. She tried to swallow, to bluff, her mourn barely able to form words. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about you, my dear. Daughter of Ivan Bak-lanov. The dear departed Baklanov. Thief and coward. Traitor to Russia."

The words scorched, a red-hot branding iron to her soul. "Don't speak of him. You aren't fit to say his name."

"And why is that?"

She didn't reply.

"Why am I not fit to say the name of a traitor, a man who stole from his own people and then killed himself when he couldn't face the consequences? Why?"

"Murderer."

A slow, arrogant smile crossed his face. She wanted to smash it away.

"Ah, is that what you think?"

"It's what I know."

"But not what you can prove." Confidence turned to indulgence. "You and Kholodov. Two little motors in an engine of conspiracy. He thought he could bring me down with the truth. You? What can you do?"

She thought of the secret hidden in her necklace. For years she'd clung to it, knowing it was a start, but not the end of what she needed to bring Petrov to justice.

She needed more, and she'd spent what was left of her childhood and her whole adult life hunting for it.

But now, when she'd given up the search, her prey appeared out of nowhere. And her plan, so recently abandoned, was suddenly whole and in front of her. A gift from the universe.

Only a fool would refuse such a gift.

She edged toward the chair. "What are you talking about? What truth did Luka threaten you with?" Around the chair toward the wall.

He advanced farther into the cabin as she moved back, a panther certain of his prey. "Don't you know? Poor little Sashka. So innocent. So dependent on the adults around her. So doomed to disappointment."

"No one's disappointed me but you."

"Your friend Mason. I'm afraid he won't be helping you any longer."

A clutch of terror gripped her, a sick, familiar feeling. What had he done to Edward? But even as the answer stabbed into her, she eased toward the fishing rod, grasping it like a cudgel, as though she wanted to crush him with it "What have you done?"

"Eliminated the weak to get to the strong. That is always the way, isn't it?" He spoke pleasantly, and she depressed the switch, praying his voice covered the sound.

"You're speaking riddles." Gliding away, she drew him toward her, toward the hidden microphone.

"Let me be plain then. I'm speaking about you and your
penchant"
he gave the word its French pronunciation "for leaning on the wrong people at the wrong time. Mason. That ridiculous detective. And, of course, your dear Luka. He is the one to blame, you know. He told me where your father would be. He let me in."

She
gasped and stopped short, outrage twisting her throat. "That's a lie."

"Is it?"

"My father had an appointment that night."

"With Bronsky, his aide."

"With you."

"No. I was quite unexpected. In fact, I wouldn't have known where your father was that night if Kholodov hadn't told me."

"I don't believe you."

"Kholodov is dead, so you'll never know, will you?"

That bit hard. "Why would Luka do that? He hated you."

"Well, to be fair, he didn't know what my plans were. He thought I was coming to talk. To confer. To see how I could help your father out of this... mess he'd gotten himself into."

Anger swelled again, but she held it back, a tidal wave surging and receding. "You tricked him."

He shrugged, "He allowed himself to be tricked. To be used. He was good for that. Most people are."

His condescension revolted her, and he wagged a finger in her direction, a pleasant expression on his face as though he enjoyed her discomfort.

"I wondered what had become of Luka Kholodov, He was a loose end I'd been seeking for years. And then" he snapped his fingers "like that he offered himself up to me."

"And you killed him, just like you killed my father."

"Yes, I'm afraid so. But it had to be done, you see. Your father was old Russia. A stodgy, stiff-necked bureaucrat who couldn't see that the world had changed. As for Luka, he threatened to tell the truth about my part in your father's sad demise. I couldn' t let him do that, could I? Not with so much at stake." He spread his hands. "Our business arrangement, for one. The life of a county, a town. Our two countries. So many people to lift up. So many people to disappoint."

As if he cared. "You did it for yourself."

He shrugged as though that were an unimportant side benefit. "Oh, yes. That, too."

After so many years, why had Luka confronted Petrov? Guilt ran through her: the answer was obvious. He'd wanted to protect her, to save her from confronting Petrov herself. Tears thickened in the back of her throat, but she pushed them away.

"So you killed my father, and Dashevsky moved the money for you."

He bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Yes. A very clever man, young Dashevsky. Our oil deal would have been as dead as your father without him. Good thing I had something that would persuade him over to our side."

"His part in the theft, you mean."

"He is reluctant for that to be made public, yes. A few hints, a small threat. Antonin has been a valuable ally." He smiled, the expression without light or kindness.

"Yet your collaborator has been vocally opposed to the tax legislation we need."

"A smoke screen, my dear. I must let the man have some dignity. In the end, Dashevksy will do what is beneficial to himself. Doesn't everyone?" He reached into his coat and took out a gun. "And so we come to you,
dorogaya.
I am thinking you are not as headstrong nor as stupid as Kholodov.

And that, I'm afraid, makes you far more dangerous."

***

Hank entered the shore drive with headlights off, proceeded slowly around the lake and parked far enough away from Mason's cabin to be out of sight. He got out, closing the car door with a soft click, and just in case he needed it, checked his weapon, grabbed extra ammo clips, and a pair of handcuffs from the trunk. For extra measure he stuffed a few flex-cuffs in his pocket, the plastic ties sitting light and easy there.

Then he crept toward the cabin, figuring to come around the bedroom where a window would give him a first glimpse of whatever was happening.

He never made it.

He hadn't come within ten yards of the cabin when he saw a form lurking outside. Too bulky to be Mason, it could have been either of his two bad boys. Except Mason had said he would call and tell them not to come. And he'd heard Alex tell one of them that she'd changed her mind.