A shepherd, perhaps.
It felt somehow freeing to be able to unload the story onto Pyotr, and see the man’s eyes fill with tears. To know that someone else grieved the loss of Vadeem’s family, and to hear the kind words, “It wasn’t your fault.”
It felt like his fault. Vadeem had brought it on by not listening to his father, by clinging so desperately to the need to be a part of something bigger than himself. He should have realized the importance of family.
Instead, he had betrayed them.
Just like he’d betrayed Kat.
He’d been running from that fact for the past five kilometers, and in his thoughts for most of the night. He’d betrayed the woman God had sent him. The gift meant to spark in him a little faith.
Pyotr’s words had found a soft place, burrowed deep, and grown like a sweet smelling fragrance over the past twelve hours. Kat, with her ever-present smile, her unconditional love, her buoyant faith, had been sent by God to remind Vadeem he was not alone. No, not by a long shot.
Perhaps he wasn’t the stone-hearted traitor he’d always labeled himself. Perhaps redemption waited for him, if he would find the courage to ask. Maybe he’d even find a woman to whom he could belong, and cherish as his own. The thought stole the breath right out of his chest. He leaned against his apartment building, cooling down, stretching his calf muscles, and listening to regret rush in its wake.
He had to send her home.
Or did he? Her words rang back at him. “You could help me.” He yanked open his apartment door, and started up the stairs, Pyotr breathing heavy on his heels.
Maybe Vadeem could help her. There had to be other clues out there, things they hadn’t yet considered. Anton Klassen had been clever enough to leave behind a journal. What if he left behind something else, something that could lead them to the Crest of St. Basil?
Find Grazovich’s prize and make Kat’s dreams come true in one turn. The idea sent new adrenaline coursing through his legs.
“Vadeem, pal, slow down.” Pyotr huffed a flight below, hanging on the stair rail.
“I have to stop Kat before she leaves.” Vadeem shoved his key into his apartment door lock.
Pyotr trudged up the stairs. “That’s what I’ve been hanging around all night to hear.”
Vadeem headed for his telephone while Pyotr dove into the shower. Pacing, Vadeem listened to the embassy phone ring. A sweet-voiced operator picked up and told him she had no listing for the American he was trying to find.
“Of course not, she’s a guest there.” He described her, thoroughly enough to make it obvious, even to himself, that he had her pegged down to her hiking boots. He guessed he didn’t have to add that she smelled so sweet it made a man cry, but he wanted to. The woman put him on hold while she searched, and he listened to a potpourri of wordless American tunes.
Finally, “I’m sorry sir, but she has already left.”
Vadeem slammed his hand into the counter. “Do you know who picked her up?”
“Just a moment please.”
Vadeem’s heart pounded out the seconds, dread pinching his chest. She probably ditched him. Again. Without a thought to her own safety, she’d most likely hightailed it to the nearest train station and was en route to Pskov, headed smack dab into the arms of one very bloodthirsty smuggler. Vadeem nearly pulled the cord out of the phone socket and tried to calm himself by bracing an arm against the wall.
“Sir? My name is Alicia Renquist. Can I help you?”
Ragged breath through his lungs, then, “Yes, I’m looking for Kat Moore?”
“She left, a while back. She, um, was going to go to the train, but…”
“What?” He knew it. He just knew it. She’d ditched him.
“Well, someone came in after she left, one of your FSB officers. I think he picked her up. She should be en route to the airport by now.” He thought he detected a tone of relief in her voice. “I can send a message for you with the Watsons. They are leaving soon. They’ll be taking the same flight home.”
He fought the sudden lump of regret in his throat. This was for the best. “No, that’s okay,” he said, and put down the receiver. Ryslan had picked her up. Odd, since he hadn’t asked the guy to do it. Especially odd since his partner hadn’t returned even one phone call.
But then again, he was Vadeem’s partner. And partners had a bond that went beyond words. Too bad he hadn’t noticed it until now.
Vadeem was leaning against his kitchen counter, drinking an orange juice and contemplating this new revelation when Pyotr emerged from the bathroom, looking like a bear, his hair spiked in all directions. “Did you find her?”
Vadeem shook his head. “She’s already headed to the airport. I guess my partner picked her up.” He held out the carton of juice to Pyotr who poured himself a glass.
“I thought you couldn’t get a hold of him.”
Vadeem shrugged, but didn’t ignore the strange expression on Pyotr’s face. Their confusion knotted into a tense silence.
“I’ve still got Kat’s book…” Vadeem said, nearly the same moment Pyotr suggested, “Maybe we should head out to the airport and say good-bye to the Watsons before they all take off.”
Vadeem didn’t even slow down to shower.
Chapter 18
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Kat said it for the second time, but she failed to halt Ryslan’s pace nor wrench herself from his vice-grip on her arm. Obviously, Vadeem had been serious about having her hauled off like a sack of grain to the airport. She sent a couple of help-me looks to passersby, hoping someone might meet her eyes, and have mercy on a woman tripping down the street.
Muscovites were clearly used to the oddity on their city sidewalks. Besides, the struggle didn’t last long. Vadeem’s hulk of a partner threw her into the back seat of a white Toyota Camry and slammed the door.
All four locks clicked while he crossed over to the driver’s side. Kat clutched her bag on her lap and swallowed her heart back into place.
Ryslan unlocked his door and climbed into the car, parked conveniently outside the US Embassy, where he’d stopped in to complete the mission on which he’d been sent.
She’d suddenly much preferred to have had the chance to say good-bye to the one FSB agent she actually cared about. She really had wanted to say good-bye. She couldn’t believe this was it, her quest was over. Deep inside she’d been harboring hope that Vadeem would come charging after her, book in hand, furious, of course, but with delight in his eyes, glad to see she’d disobeyed him and would be sticking around.
She couldn’t believe that the man who she had prayed would be in the hallway when she opened the door wasn’t going to come to her rescue and be the hero she wanted him to be. Not the bossy, arrogant FSB cop, but the man who’d sat by her bedside and cried, the man who’d kissed her, gently, igniting a blaze of hope in her chest.
The man she was starting to love.
“Where’s Vadeem?”
Ryslan said nothing as he started the car and pulled away from the curb, his meaty hands gripping the wheel.
She fisted her hands in her lap and clenched her teeth. She didn’t know what made her angrier, that Vadeem hadn’t even valued their budding relationship to see beyond yesterday’s slammed door to the woman who needed him, or that her heart had run out ahead of her, betraying her to fall for the one man she could never have.
Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them back, watching the buildings ramble by as they made their way toward the Kremlin. . and away from the airport.