Crossing the Line (18 page)

When Katya awoke to find her things had been brought from Aleksei’s apartment, disappointment crushed her. She’d not believed him and now he didn’t want her anymore. Maybe it was for the best. She dressed and left before Natasha or Anna woke, going first to the social security office, then to collect her pass and library cards from Alice McColl.

While she waited in the main library for a computer to become free, she checked her mail. An invitation to a drinks party from the head of the department. A plea for her to join a chamber music group. A letter from the orchestra giving details of their sessions. No more threats from dead men.

A search online for murders in Florida swamped her with thousands of sites, so she restricted the search to Fort Lauderdale. After a couple of hits she found the faces of the ones who’d raped her. They had families. Katya tried to feel some sympathy and couldn’t.

She Googled for information about Valentina’s death or recent murders where women had been mutilated, and hoped no one monitored her search. Phrases like sexual crimes, mutilated corpse, tongue removal, fingers chopped off, excised nipples brought up as many invitations to twisted porn sites as serious information. She narrowed the search to Russian women, then Eastern-European women, but could find nothing about Valentina. She’d just started another search when she heard someone call her name. She blanked the screen and looked up.

“Hello there.” Ethan smiled at her.

Katya stared at him in shock, hardly able to believe her eyes.

His smile widened. “I’ve been thinking about you, wondering how you were settling in.”

Her hand crept to the top of her shirt and pulled it tighter to her neck.

“Time for a coffee?” he asked.

Fuck it, I’ve freaked her out.
Ethan could hardly claim it was a chance meeting but there was no way he could have turned up at the address she’d given on her statement to the FLPD without alarming her. She looked ill.

“I’m not some creepy stalker.” He forced out a laugh. “I was visiting a friend in the metallurgy department and thought I’d take a look around the library on the off chance you were in here. I couldn’t believe it when I spotted you. Do you have time for a coffee?”

She nodded.

Thank fuck for that.

After he called the music department, and they’d verified his identity, he’d been told Katya might be in the library. He’d driven like a maniac to Coral Gables. He’d been lucky he hadn’t been stopped for speeding. The last fifteen minutes had been spent in an increasingly anxious search. He was amazed he’d found her. Thinking about what had happened to her made him desperate to pull her into his arms and take her someplace safe, but there was a long game here. She’d gotten mixed up with someone who’d taken a grisly revenge on the guys who’d raped her.

By the time they sat drinking coffee in the food court, Ethan had spun more lies about his friend in the Metallurgy Department.

“How are you?” he asked. “Missing Moscow?”

“A little.”

“How are your aunt and uncle?”

He watched the little light there was in her eyes fade to nothing. There were bruises on her neck that looked like finger marks.

“Dead,” she whispered.

He gave an appropriate gasp. “What?”

“Murdered.”

“Oh God. You weren’t there?”

She shook her head. “I only—stayed one night. My aunt was sick.”

“Where did you go? I didn’t think you knew anyone here.”

“I’m living with a girl I knew in Moscow.”

“You poor thing.” He took a risk. “You don’t think there’s any connection between the deaths here and those in Moscow? Are you in danger?”

She flinched. “I don’t think so.”

He was sure she’d been abused, but would she tell him? “Do the police have any idea what happened?”

She shrugged and her eyes filled. He didn’t want to make her cry.

“I thought about you when I was on the beach on Sanibel,” he said. “Every time someone stooped to look for shells, it made me chuckle. I wish you could have seen them.”

Her little smile relieved him but it didn’t last long. When she lifted her mug, and he spotted the state of her wrist, his anxiety increased. “That looks sore.” Like she’d been tied up.

She tugged down her sleeve. “A violin string snapped.”

He reached for her hand and she pulled away.

“Are you okay, Katya? You don’t look well.” Pale, with bruised eyes though still beautiful to him.

“Just tired.”

“Did someone hurt you?”

Her face blanked and she stood. “I have to go. Thank you for the coffee.”

He leapt to his feet. “I wanted to apologize for walking out in Paris. I had the chance of an earlier flight, a business meeting to get to and…well, I want to make it up to you. How about dinner? My treat.”

“No. I’m sorry.” She backed away.

“Let me show you around Miami. If you’re tired of the city we could go to the Everglades, or the Keys.”

“I’m working.” She looked like a cornered deer, her gaze darting from side to side.

“Where are you staying? Can I phone you?”
Fuck, I’m scaring her.

“I won’t be there much longer.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You haven’t.” She looked straight at him for the first time. “You don’t know how many times I wished to be back in Paris with you—before you walked away. It was nice to see you again. Goodbye.”

That dagger found its target. Why should she give him the time of day? He followed discreetly. She went straight to the Metrorail and spoke to no one. As he returned to his car, he wondered if he could have handled that any worse.

Ethan hadn’t been back at his desk for more than a minute before Luisa came in.

“I didn’t see you first thing.” She gave a tight smile. “Trying to avoid me?”

“Just busy.”

“I had a great time at the party. Thanks for tidying up.”

“You’re welcome.”
Why the hell did I sleep with her?

“Did you manage to find a place to rent?”

“Yeah, moved in yesterday.”

“That was quick. Does it need much work? I’m good with a paintbrush.”

“It’s fine. Did Frank want something?” Ethan asked.

“No, I wondered if you were doing anything tonight. I could come over to your place and cook you a meal?” She leaned over his desk.

“I promised to go out for a drink with someone, sorry.” He looked down at his notes and pretended to read. He swallowed as she closed his door. Frank might turn into a pumpkin and leave parties early, but he thought Luisa now had Ethan down as one of the rats.

Katya arrived back at the apartment to find Park waiting. She’d spent the journey thinking—what if? But Ethan belonged in a different world, one she couldn’t have. Whatever his excuses for leaving her in Paris, he’d left no note. Why had he looked her out now? Did he think she was an easy lay? Her heart cramped.

“Where’ve you been?” Park snapped.

“Work.”

“Aleksei wants to see you.”

“What if I don’t want to see him?”

“We have a little struggle and I lose another week’s wages.” He lifted the violin from her hand.

She had no strength to argue. “Better than losing your job. For all I know you have three wives and sixteen kids to support.”

He laughed. “I don’t, but thanks anyway.”

She expected to be taken to the other apartment but Park pulled up outside a large house with palm trees in the garden. He carried her violin into the house together with the bag he’d brought to Anna and Natasha’s apartment.

Aleksei tugged her inside. “I can’t believe you went to work.”

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. He clung to her so tightly that Katya found herself melting into him. His desperation seemed more real to her than Ethan’s easy charm.

“I worried about you.” Aleksei stroked her back. “I left you with Natasha and Anna because I didn’t want you to be on your own and you go to fucking work?”

“I wanted everything to be…normal.”

He let her go, but kept hold of her hand. “This is my home. I’ve never shared it with anyone.”

Katya felt him squeeze her fingers. Under her feet were limestone tiles speckled with tiny fossils. In front of her a wooden staircase curled up to a galleried landing and above her head hung a light fitting with dozens of crystal stars. The sort of place she’d thought her aunt had owned. It was hard not to be impressed.

As he showed her around, she kept thinking there couldn’t be any more rooms and he’d open another door. In the basement was a media center with black leather reclining chairs. Through another door was a gym. In the triple garage two cars sandwiched the silver car he’d driven.

“Mercedes convertible and a Jaguar,” he said.

The master bedroom had an enormous en-suite bathroom with a sunken tub. The other three bedrooms also had their own bathrooms. Everywhere was immaculate, but as in the apartment, she saw nothing personal. No book next to the bed. No pile of magazines. No photographs. None of the paintings or ornaments looked as though they’d been chosen for any sentimental reason. No sign of a wife. Aleksei kept up a running commentary. If she didn’t know better she’d have guessed he was nervous.

She’d seen no cameras although there were motion sensors in every room and smoke alarms on the ceilings. His workplace was at the back of the house next to the kitchen. The only room that looked used. Shelves were piled with books and there were two computers and printers on a long table. A well worn black leather swivel chair sat behind the desk.

“This looks like the only room you live in,” she said.

“I spend more time in there than I do in bed. But…”

Don’t say it. Not yet.
Through the window Katya spotted a pool and a hot tub enclosed by a net screen and beyond that a lawn. She followed him back to where they’d begun, a formal sitting room with another high ceiling.

“What do you think?”

“Very beautiful.”

“Why do I feel you’re not impressed?”

“I am. It’s lovely. Your own pool. You’re lucky.”

He tugged her down onto the couch still holding her hand. “I
am
lucky, but not because I have a pool.” He gently stroked the marks on her wrist with his thumb. Katya put her hand on his and did the same to him.

“I tried,” he whispered.

Katya knew what he was talking about. “I know.”

He gave a long shuddering sigh. “I’ll never let you down again.”

“Just
try
not to. Never is impossible.”

He wrapped both his hands around hers. “I can’t remember ever being as angry. I’m still fucking angry. When that bastard made sure he got you and not Sylvie, it was the biggest mistake of his life.”Aleksei’s eyes glittered. “What happened was a reminder to me of where I stand.”

“Who was responsible?”

“Someone I have to deal with. I’m going to make it up to you. I’ve started already. I understand the police are now satisfied you’re not responsible for the deaths of your aunt and uncle, despite the presence of your fingerprints.”

He reached over to a table by the side of the couch and put a plastic bag on the seat between them. Inside were the knives and pillowcase with her bloody prints
.

She sucked in a breath. “How did you get them?”

“Get what? They no longer exist.” Aleksei moved the bag out of sight and took her hands again. “I’ve been thinking about something you said. Do you remember?”

“You broke me, now mend me.”

“That’s what I want to do.”

“Okay.”

“Did you have a good day at work?”

She gave a little laugh at the sudden change in direction. “Yes, did you?”

“Not until now. I have Chinese food warming. Let’s eat.”

He stood and pulled Katya to her feet.

The kitchen had beech cabinets with dark granite counter-tops and brushed steel appliances. An island unit with bar stools stood in the center, but he’d set a table in front of the window.

“Sit down. No need to move the table. You’d only throw yourself onto the lanai.”

He’d remembered the dishes she’d liked before, the coconut chicken and beef in black bean sauce.

“You sure you believe me?” he asked quietly.

She stared at him across the table. Why did his vulnerability endear her to him?
Because he’s not a vulnerable man.
“Yes. Doesn’t mean I’m not angry with you, but I believe you.”

He nodded. “So what happened at the university today?”

“Nothing.”
A man came to see me.
In another life, she’d spent a wonderful day and night with him, though not a wonderful morning. He’d walked out on her when she’d done nothing and Aleksei hadn’t walked away even after what she’d been through. That he still wanted her had to count for something. “Boring stuff.” She gave him a little smile.

“Talk to me about your parents.”

“My mother was very intelligent, cleverer than my father. She was tall and elegant, and had long hair all her life, even when she went grey—through worrying about me.”

“Why did you worry her?”

“I got into trouble. I opened my mouth and spoke without thinking. What about your parents. Did you worry them?”

“My mother said I was a perfect child.”

She laughed and he gave her a rueful smile.

“Did you think she hated me?” he asked.

“No. Parents usually love their children no matter how awful they are. Why did your father send you to a school so far away?”

“He did what he thought best. I had a good education in England.”

“Did he ever hit you?”

“Yes, did yours?”

“Sometimes. I supposed I deserved it. I was difficult, not like Galya.”

She wanted the word back.
Stupid, stupid mistake.
She was worn out and emotional. It had made her careless. Everything could unravel so easily.

“Were you good friends with her?”

Her heart pounded. “I could have been a better friend. She looked out for me. She was kind and dependable, a wonderful daughter.” That’s what they’d said at her funeral. Intelligent, beautiful, quick witted. Everyone loved her, the best friend in the world, the best sister in the world, the best daughter in the world. Perfect Galya. And she was. How Katya had loved her.

“Do you think your parents loved her more than you?”

She glanced at him. “What did I say that made you think that?”

“Nothing. A guess.”

“I don’t think any parent could say that to their child.”

“Sometimes you don’t have to say things.”

He was better at this than her, pretending to be normal. “She was easier to love. I’m selfish, she wasn’t. I’m impulsive, she was careful. I argued, she arbitrated. I got into trouble, and she didn’t. She thought about doing things to make our parents happy. I only wanted to make myself happy. Everyone loved her. I know…”

“What?”

“Sometimes they wished I’d died and not her.” She bit her lip. She’d never said that to anyone before.

“No parent would think that. It’s just part of the grieving process, blaming yourself. How did she die?”

“Murdered.” She stared at him and he showed no surprise. Did he know?

“Did they find who did it?”

“No. What about your brother? What happened to him?”

“He was shot in the head. A hunting accident. A month later my mother killed herself.”

He could have been lying but she didn’t think so.

“I was on my way home, moments away. If I’d walked a little quicker, not stopped to chat to a friend. Who knows? She died in my arms. She’d blown off half her face, and she still tried to smile at me, tell me she was sorry. I thought she loved me, but if she had she wouldn’t have done it.”

Katya reached across the table for his hand. “I don’t think what she did meant she didn’t love you. Grief strikes every heart in a different way. For some, losing a person close to them is so painful they can’t think rationally. They’re so consumed by sadness, guilt and anger they’re blind to anything else.”

Aleksei sighed. “We sit here like grief counselors trying to help each other.”

“We’ve both been hurt. We have that in common.”

“I want you to be happy.” He rubbed her palm with his thumb. “I want you to have everything you want.”

“Why me?” she whispered.

“You’re…real.” He swallowed hard. “Will you play your violin?”

“What would you like me to play?”

“The Swan.”

“Saint-Saens? It’s a piece for the cello.”

“My mother played the cello.”

While Aleksei cleared the table, she brought her violin from the hall and tuned up.

“Let’s go into the lounge.” He sat on the couch and put his feet on the coffee table.

Katya stood in front of him, closed her eyes and played in as low a key as she could manage. It was a slow haunting melody. Easy to imagine a lone swan gliding across a dark lake, silent until the last moments of its life when it sings the most beautiful of songs. She became the bird as she played and only faltered when she felt his hand on her hair.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered. “Please.”

Aleksei stood behind her, slid his hands onto her hips and then around her waist. He dropped to his knees, pressed his face into her back, and felt the music flow through her body. When he’d been a boy, he’d lain on the floor with his head against his mother’s leg as she played, the vibrations rippling through him. He had the same feeling now. She’d told him the story of the dying swan singing for the first and last time in its life and even after he learned it wasn’t true, the idea still mesmerized.

When the last note faded away, Aleksei lifted the violin and bow aside, and still on his knees, took her hands in his. “I’m on my knees begging your forgiveness.”

Her eyes widened as she stared down at him.

“I made a mistake, a miscalculation and you were hurt.” He held her away from his body and looked up at her. “It’s rare for me to admit I’m wrong. I failed to protect you. Can you forgive me?”

I believe you didn’t mean it to happen, but…”

He didn’t want to hear the but. He stood and pulled her into his arms. When she didn’t resist, relief surged through him. He wouldn’t go further. Waiting would prove his sincerity. He pressed his face into her hair.

“I have to go away on business tomorrow,” he said. “Come with me.”

“I have a job to do. I can’t just walk out.”

He sighed but knew she’d like him better for giving way. “Park will take you to buy work clothes on Miracle Mile and get you a cell phone so you can call him when you need collecting. It’s better if you stay with Anna and Natasha when I’m away. I don’t want you to be on your own. I need to know you’re safe. Is that okay?”

“Not sure Anna will be happy.”

“Anna will do as I tell her.”