Read Visible Threat Online

Authors: Janice Cantore

Tags: #FICTION / Christian / Romance

Visible Threat (15 page)

BOOK: Visible Threat
9.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Something to think about,” Brinna agreed.

“Something else to think about
 
—you free for dinner?”

“What?” Brinna felt a jolt, the abrupt change of subject a shock. She met Jack’s gaze.

“Dinner
 
—you know, that meal after lunch and before bedtime. I’m off in an hour, so why don’t we meet in the Shore? Lunch the other day was just sandwiches, and I’d be honored to buy a nice dinner for the woman who inspires ‘hero worship.’” His eyes crinkled with amusement.

Brinna felt his warmth and blushed. “I’ve got to stop giving interviews.” She remembered David’s invite. It had in no way elicited the same response as this inquiry from Jack. His
second invitation . . . Was it safe to infer that he was ready to move on from his wife? “I don’t have anything else planned. Legends?” She mentioned the first restaurant that came to mind.

“Great. See you there about five thirty.” Jack smiled and patted her shoulder, then walked around and climbed into his car.

38

B
RINNA SAT IN HER TRUCK
for a few minutes before starting the engine and driving away. Lunch with Jack the other day had been great, but all of a sudden the butterflies in her stomach as she contemplated dinner were huge.
I need to be certain Jack is over his wife and ready to date, if that’s what this is. Already I feel that I could fall hard for the guy.

Dave the paramedic crossed her mind again. He was cute and interested and maybe a better prospect than Jack. Was it really a good idea to date someone you worked with?

She slapped the steering wheel.
You’re being silly, Caruso,
she chided herself.
It’s Jack, and you’ve never got along as well with another guy.
She pulled away from her mother’s house, chewing on her bottom lip, doubt nagging.
What if I want more than friendship and Jack doesn’t? What if he’s just being nice?

Blowing out a breath, she checked her cell phone. Still nothing from Maggie.

“I need to talk to you, Mags,” Brinna said out loud. “First Dave, now Jack. You’re the man expert
 
—call me.”

*   *   *

Brinna made a detour on the way home. Shoving thoughts of Jack, Dave, and Maggie from her mind, she decided to check out the Black Sea shop in Shoreline Village.

Rain started to fall again as she drove into the Village parking lot. Brinna pulled on a rain jacket, then hurried to the complex and found the Black Sea store with no problem at all. Slightly damp, water still dripping from her jacket, Brinna went in, working to look as little like a cop as possible.

Nothing in the store appealed to her at all. Brinna was not a trendy knickknack or folk-art type of person. It was going to be difficult to feign interest in these things, and she found herself again wishing for Maggie’s company. Maggie was the decorator, the person with an eye for what would make a house look great. Sighing, she decided she’d think of something to tell the clerk if the question came up.

A tall, elegant woman approached her. “May I help you?” she asked in a slightly accented voice.

“Hi, yeah, I’m looking for a unique wedding present,” Brinna said. “Something different.”

“You came to the right place.” The woman beamed and led her to a section of the shop decorated with tapestries, artwork, and pottery.

“These are beautiful,” Brinna said, zeroing in on the only thing that caught her eye
 
—some handmade coffee cups. “All of this is from Bulgaria?”

“Most of it.” The woman nodded. “From the Black Sea area.” She pointed to several items that were from other areas of Eastern Europe.

“Hmm.” Brinna picked up the most expensive piece she could find. “I have to admit to being a little ignorant about that area of the world. Can you tell me a little about it?”

Because of her age and accent, Brinna guessed the woman was probably Magda. The woman smiled and began to talk about the Black Sea and the resorts there. Working hard to size her up, Brinna listened carefully. Giving Magda her attention was not difficult, since the information the woman had to impart was fascinating. Under different circumstances Brinna realized she’d probably like and admire this resourceful shop owner. She’d built a thriving business from nothing, and she had contacts all over Eastern Europe. As Brinna listened and looked around the shop, she realized what a perfect cover for trafficking this would be.

She found herself wondering if Jack and Ben had mentioned their suspicions to ICE. She was certain they had, but she made a mental note to speak to Chuck about whether or not this Black Sea shop was on their radar.

Though on the surface Magda didn’t seem like the type of person who could exploit and imprison young women, Brinna cautioned herself. One thing being a police officer had taught her was that appearances could be and often were deceiving.

She asked the woman to put an expensive piece of pottery on hold for her and left the shop as the rain abated. Her plan was to return in the future for a more thorough investigation.
Tonight, she had just enough time to get home and change before meeting Jack in Belmont Shore. The dinner was a good idea, she decided. They had a lot of cop business to discuss.

*   *   *

Ivana opted for an early bedtime. She still did not feel 100 percent and found that she grew tired easily. Plus, the emotional interview she’d given Detective O’Reilly had drained her. She lay on the soft, comfortable bed and stared at the ceiling, almost afraid to close her eyes, afraid this was all a dream and she would wake up back on the filthy mattress with Ana and Galina taunting her.

Working to banish those images forever from her mind, she turned her thoughts to her host.
Rose Caruso is like an angel,
she thought,
like I’ve always imagined my own mother was. Even the police here are nice. Detective O’Reilly is a beautiful man, eyes so warm and calm.
She hugged her arms to her chest. O’Reilly was a man she and Villie would have dreamed of, handsome like a movie star and so kind.

Is this all real?
she asked herself. And then the reality of Villie’s death crashed down on her, and Ivana let the tears fall. It was tragically real. Villie would never again laugh with her, grab her arm and drag her into some adventure. Villie was gone forever, and Ivana realized that only seeing Demitri pay for what he’d done could ever make her feel any better. She’d never feel good, and she’d never get her sister back, but at least if Demitri were arrested, she’d know that no one else’s sister would meet the same fate as Villie.

Rolling over, Ivana vowed that whatever she could do to help the police officer Jack O’Reilly she would do. It was now her mission to stop Demitri. And she relished the thought of seeing him arrested and humbled.

39

J
ACK FIDGETED
with his tie after he parked. After looking around to make sure Brinna wasn’t already in the parking lot watching, he leaned over to study what he could of his appearance in the rearview mirror.

Tie on or of
f
?
He loosened it, then tightened it, then took it off.

“Argh.” He blew out a breath in frustration, not quite believing he was so nervous, but he was. The invitation to dinner had slipped glibly off his tongue, but as five thirty approached, he realized this was perilously close to a date. He liked Brinna, admired her, looked forward to any chance he got to be around her, but was he ready to date her?

For that matter, was she ready to date him? Where was she at with her faith?

Jack righted himself in the driver’s seat and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He’d come to grips with his wife’s death and knew the last thing she would have wanted
was for him to pine and stay hidden in the house for the rest of his life, so this nervousness was not because of her.

No, this nervousness was because he didn’t know what Brinna would think of the two of them stepping from a working relationship to a personal relationship. What if she didn’t feel the same way he did?

Only one way to find out. He squeezed the wheel before letting it go and then got out of the car and walked into the restaurant. He only had to wait a few minutes before Brinna arrived. And when she did, even in casual attire
 
—jeans and a pale-green sweater
 
—she took his breath away. Jack knew there was no getting around it; he wanted a personal relationship with her. He wanted to know everything about her and be an integral part of her life. Praying that she returned the feeling, he stepped forward and got her attention.

*   *   *

Legends was a popular Long Beach sports bar and restaurant. Brinna walked in and looked around until she heard Jack call her name. She turned and saw him in the waiting area. He’d taken off his tie and loosened his collar but still wore his suit jacket. A flash of nervousness enveloped Brinna. She worked to quash it.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

He shook his head. “I was a few minutes early; you’re right on time.”

It was still a bit early for the dinner crowd, so they were seated quickly.

“Good choice,” Jack said as they opened their menus. “I haven’t been here in ages.”

“Maggie and Rick and I come here a lot during football,” Brinna said without thinking, and then she remembered Rick.

Jack looked up from his menu, and she could tell by his face he understood. “Ouch. I know it hurts about Rick, but there is still hope.”

Brinna set her menu down. “Yeah, I’m beginning to believe that. My mom always says it. And when I went to see Rick, he was unflaggingly upbeat. I imagine he’ll be okay no matter what happens.”

“A step forward for you, I think, seeing hope in a tragic situation.”

Their eyes held for a moment, but the waitress approaching the table sent their attention back to the menus. Brinna ordered a hamburger and fries and Jack, a sirloin steak.

When the waitress left, Jack sat back and regarded Brinna. “You’re an easy date. Just a hamburger?” His gray eyes teased.

Brinna wondered at his choice of words. “Is that what this is? A date?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes, I guess it is.” He leaned forward, the teasing gone, warmth and curiosity in his gaze.

Brinna’s breath caught in her throat, and for a minute she lost her voice. She kept her eyes on Jack’s and sensed the connection they had when they were partners. This was what she wanted
 
—the easy camaraderie she had with him during their partnership. But suddenly it all felt unsure.

“Jack, I like you. I like the way you look at things, and I like being around you, but . . .”

“I was afraid there was a
but
coming.”

“It’s just that . . . well, when we worked together, your wife still weighed heavy on you. . . . Boy, did that sound lame.”

Jack smiled and shook his head. “I know what you mean. I will always love Vicki, but I am ready to move on. Maybe I didn’t realize how ready until I started spending more time with you. The case, lunch the other day . . . I enjoy being with you. I hope you can say the same about me.”

Brinna felt the heat start to rise in her cheeks, and she played with the napkin in her lap for a moment. “I can. You were a good partner, and I miss our chats.”

“Only as a partner?” The twinkle was back.

She smiled and struggled to find words that didn’t sound odd. “No, I guess I can think of you as more than a partner. Is that where we’re going?”

He cleared his throat. “I’d like more, Brinna. I would.”

Warmth bubbled through Brinna, and the heat she’d felt rising a minute ago flooded her face. This was what she wanted, and he wanted the same thing. “Then we’re on the same page in more ways than one.”

Their eyes locked, and he reached his hand across the table. Brinna put her hand in his and relished the strength she felt there.

40

S
CRAPE, EEEK,
scrape, thump . . .

Ivana lay holding her breath, listening to the noises coming from outside her window and trying to convince herself it was only her overactive imagination. Her efforts were rewarded with a few moments of silence, and then the scraping started again. She’d awakened from a sound sleep to the noises at the window and was now wide awake, completely unable to go back to sleep.

What would make that type of noise?
she wondered, gathering the blanket in her hands closer around her neck, afraid to turn toward the window. She’d seen very little of this country to have any frame of reference for the sound. At home the noise could have been the branch of a tree or one of the other girls’ suitors tapping on the pane to get the attention of his beloved. She hadn’t seen enough of Mrs. Caruso’s yard to know if there was a branch near enough to scrape the window. As for suitors . . .

Her room was in the rear of the house with a large window
overlooking the backyard. Mrs. Caruso’s room was toward the front of the house. As Ivana listened, the sound grew louder, and fear crept into her gut like a hunter stalking its prey. She imagined someone was at the window picking the lock, and when she forced herself to turn toward the window, she saw a shadow.

Jumping up from the bed, Ivana grabbed the new robe Mrs. Caruso had given her earlier in the day. She scrambled into it as she fled the dark room and hurried down the hall. Pausing at Mrs. Caruso’s door, Ivana froze. She hadn’t even noticed the time; Mrs. Caruso might be sound asleep. And what if she were only imagining things? Would the woman think she’d taken in some timid thing that cringed at every shadow?

Glancing back down the hall, Ivana knew she wasn’t jumping at shadows. Someone had been at her window; she was certain. She knocked on the bedroom door.

“Come in” came a clear but sleepy reply.

Slowly Ivana opened the door. Rose Caruso had turned on a bedside light. She looked at Ivana in the semidarkness, concern in her eyes. “Is everything okay? Did you have a bad dream?” she asked as she threw the covers off and got out of bed.

“I heard something scratching at the window in my room. It frightened me.” Ivana looked over her shoulder. “I’m sorry to wake you.”

The older woman donned her own robe and took Ivana’s shoulders. “Don’t apologize. One benefit of having a police officer for a daughter is knowing I can call the police anytime I think I have a problem.” She walked to her nightstand,
picked up the phone, and punched in a number. Motioning toward Ivana, Mrs. Caruso indicated she could take a seat on the end of the bed.

Ivana complied and felt the anxiety in her stomach calming while she listened to Mrs. Caruso talk to the police. She told them that she thought there was a prowler outside the house and that she wanted a patrol officer to come and look in the yard. There was a bit more to the conversation, and then Mrs. Caruso hung up.

“There
 
—they’ll send a patrol car by to check things out. Does that make you feel better?” Mrs. Caruso sat next to Ivana and put an arm over her shoulders.

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry to be so frightened. You must think me a weak little mouse.” As she sat in the cozy room with Rose Caruso, Ivana’s panic seemed foolish, and she believed the noises and the shadows were figments of her imagination and nothing more.

“I said, don’t apologize. And I think only that you are a young girl who has every right to be fearful. Now, since we’re up, how about we go to the kitchen and have some tea?”

Ivana nodded and followed Mrs. Caruso into the kitchen. The woman flipped on the hall light, the living room light, and all the kitchen lights, and Ivana smiled. The brightness made her feel better, safer somehow. And when the kettle was on the stove with flames glowing under it, Ivana felt normal again and as safe as she had ever felt in her life.

She took a steaming cup of tea and turned to sit at the table. Instantly a scream tore from her throat, and the teacup fell from her hands, shattering on the floor.

As fear pounded in her ears, Ivana heard Mrs. Caruso behind her. “Wha
 
—?” was all the woman managed.

The masked man in the doorway moved forward quickly. He pointed a gun at Ivana and in her native tongue ordered her quiet.

Mrs. Caruso stepped forward and tried to push Ivana behind her, but the man’s hand came up quickly and caught the left side of Mrs. Caruso’s face, sending her backward against the kitchen counter and then down to the floor.

“No!” Ivana cried, leaping for the man despite her fear. He was there for her
 
—she knew it. Somehow Demitri had found her. Rushing forward, she ignored the gun and grabbed the mask, jerking it from the man’s head.

“Simon!” The shock of recognition stunned her.

Simon jammed the gun into her midsection with a curse. “Now look what you have done. You’ve signed your friend’s death warrant.” He shoved Ivana to where Mrs. Caruso was now struggling to her feet. Stepping to the door, he unlocked it and pulled it open. Two more masked men rushed in.

“Take them both,” Simon ordered in Bulgarian. “The woman has seen my face. I can’t leave her here.” He turned to Mrs. Caruso and Ivana, this time speaking in English. “If either of you makes a sound, I’ll kill you both.”

The men moved quickly. One grabbed Ivana, and the other, Mrs. Caruso. Ivana struggled to no avail. The man who held her had a grip of iron. Her heart filled with worry for Mrs. Caruso, who still seemed dazed from the slap. A thin line of blood ran down her chin. A sack was yanked over Ivana’s head, and everything went black.

Pulled from her feet, Ivana was carried out into the cold night. Shivers racked her body, both from the cold and from fear. Her ears distinguished the rumble of a car motor and the door of a van being pulled open. She was pushed inside and, a second later, felt Mrs. Caruso come to rest beside her. The door slammed, and the van jerked backward into the street, then forward. Horror gripped Ivana’s heart as she realized she was responsible for her benefactor being taken to the same hell she thought she’d escaped.

No one would know they were being taken. They were at the mercy of Demitri, and he would punish them both for Ivana’s transgression.

Ivana expelled rib-shaking sobs, certain the van was taking her and Mrs. Caruso to their deaths.

BOOK: Visible Threat
9.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

To Wed a Rake by James, Eloisa
The Answer Man by Roy Johansen
A Chink in the Armor by D. Robert Pease
The Harrowing of Gwynedd by Katherine Kurtz
Shameless by Burston, Paul