Don't Say A Word (44 page)

    Julia smiled as a long-ago memory flashed through her head. "Good night," she said. "Sweet dreams."

    "You, too."

    "Don't let the bedbugs bite."

    "Julia."

    "Elena," she echoed. "You know I hate to go to sleep first."

    Elena's soft laugh floated through the shadowy darkness. "I remember that now. You never wanted me to go to sleep before you. Every time I said good night, you said something else, so you'd always have the last word."

    "And so I'd keep you awake." Julia stared at the ceiling, watching the moonbeams play across the room. They had once been best friends, as close as two sisters could be. Twenty-five years had separated them, but the connection between them was already back. "I missed you," Julia whispered into the darkness.

    "I missed you, too," Elena said softly.

    Julia closed her eyes, content now to let Elena have the last word.

    Julia crept out of bed just after eight o'clock. Elena was still sleeping, and the apartment was quiet. She walked into the living room and saw Alex sprawled across the narrow couch. He'd kicked off his blanket and wore only a pair of navy blue boxers. Her breath caught at the sight of him. He really was an attractive man, and she felt a stirring of desire at his tousled hair and whisker-laden cheeks, the sweep of his dark lashes against his olive-skinned face. She wanted to touch him, wanted to run her hands down his strong arms and across his sculpted abs. She wanted to wrap herself around him until they were touching in every possible way.

    Kneeling next to the couch, she leaned over and traced his lips with her tongue. He responded immediately, his hand catching the back of her head and pulling her in for a deeper, longer, more passionate kiss.

    "You were awake," she accused breathlessly when she opened her eyes and saw him watching her. "Why didn't you say something?"

    "I wanted to see what you would do," he said with a grin.

    He had no idea what she'd wanted to do… or maybe he did.

    "Did you sleep well?" she asked.

    "Not bad. I had a good dream. Want to know what it was about? You were the star."

    "What was I wearing?"

    His grin widened. "Nothing."

    She couldn't help smiling back. "You are bad."

    "In my dream you were bad." He pulled her to him, his hands brushing the sides of her breasts.

    She would have liked to strip off her T-shirt and join him on the couch, but she could hear her sister moving around in the bedroom. "Elena will be out here any second," she said, gently pushing him away.

    "Killjoy." He sat up on the couch, running a hand through his hair. "How are you two getting along?"

    "Good." She sat next to him. "I keep thinking it should be more uncomfortable, that twenty-five years should have made us strangers, but there's still a connection between us. We know each other on a very basic level." She felt a little self-conscious at her words. "Maybe there is some sort of twin thing going on."

    A cell phone rang from the vicinity of Alex's pants. Julia tossed him his jeans, and he pulled out the phone. "Hello." He glanced over at Julia and mouthed, Brady. "A bank account number, huh? Where's the bank?" He listened for a few more minutes, then said, "Yes, we found Julia's twin sister, the one you neglected to mention. I know, isn't that amazing? Those two should never have been separated or lost in the system. If you guys hadn't screwed up, they wouldn't have spent the past twenty-five years apart." Alex paused for another moment. "Yes, we do have a key, and I have a feeling it will fit. All right. We'll meet you in an hour, as soon as the bank opens." He grabbed a pen off the coffee table and jotted down an address on the back of a magazine. "Got it. What about protection? Julia and I have been followed more than once." He listened, then said, "Fine, see you then."

    "What did he say?" Julia asked as soon as Alex had ended the call.

    "The numbers scratched in the dolls are for a bank account here in DC. Brady wants all three of us to meet him at the bank when it opens. He also said there's a safe-deposit box, and I have a feeling the key we found in the doll fits right into that box."

    Julia felt a rush of excitement. "Good news for a change. But when did Mr. Brady come to DC?"

    "Probably as soon as my father called him and told him where we were. Brady said there's a good deal of money in the account. And who knows what's in that safe-deposit box?"

    "I can't believe it's right here in DC. We're finally at the end of the trail," Julia said.

    "And at your parents' intended destination. This is where they were coming. It would make sense that whatever they'd stashed away was here. And I believe your mother also performed here."

    "At the Kennedy Center, probably." Julia smiled. "And Elena danced there twenty-something years later. That's nice, isn't it?"

    "It is nice. Your mother wanted you both to have the life she couldn't have."

    "Hopefully, somewhere in the universe she's smiling down on us because we're finally back together."

    "Apparently the bank account is in both your names, with your Russian surname. Brady says he can get past the red tape. He has paperwork to prove that you and Elena are the heirs to Natalia and Sergei Markov. That will allow the bank to release the money as well as the contents of the safe-deposit box to you. I wonder what's in the box," she mused. "It must be valuable enough to still be of interest to the Russian government. Why else would they have people following us?"

    "Only one way to find out."

    She stood up. "I'll tell Elena to get dressed."

    Julia felt nervous and edgy as they drove into the three-story parking garage next to the downtown bank where Brady had told them to meet. She couldn't believe they were finally nearing the end of their search. Soon she would know exactly why someone was after her. She glanced over her shoulder as they entered the garage, wondering if anyone had followed them here to the nation's capital. But there was no one behind them.

    Alex parked the car, and they took a moment to glance around. The parking garage was shadowy and half-full, probably because it was Saturday. A car pulled in next to them. Julia stiffened, then relaxed when she saw Brady get out of the car.

    "You must be Elena," he said as they gathered together.

    "Yes," she said tentatively. "And you're?"

    "Daniel Brady." He turned to Julia. "Did you bring the key?"

    "I have it," Julia said.

    "Good. The bank account was set up in your names," Brady added as they walked toward the bank. "
Yulia
and Elena Markov. I've already spoken to the bank manager and circumvented some red tape to get into the account."

    "How did you do that?" Alex asked sharply.

    "Let's just say I have friends in high places. At any rate, there is five hundred and twenty-seven thousand dollars in cash in the account."

    Julia's jaw dropped. "How did my parents get that much money?"

    Brady shrugged. "I'm sure they had their ways. The bank account has been paying off the rent on the safe-deposit box, which is why it wasn't closed in the past twenty-five years."

    "What's in the box?" Elena asked.

    "I'm hoping there might be something in there to tell us who killed your parents," Brady replied.

    His answer surprised Julia. She hadn't considered that possibility. "Do you think my parents knew who set that bomb in their house?"

    Brady's eyes narrowed. "I see Charles gave you the whole story."

    "He thought I deserved to know." Julia lifted her chin, looking Brady straight in the eye. "And he was right. So I'll ask you again: Do you think my parents knew who killed them?"

    "Your father certainly knew he had enemies in his own party. They were watching him. Love can make a man stupid. They suspected he was softening because of his love for your mother. He had to leave Russia, and we wanted to get him out. But they got there first. With any luck, your father may have left us a clue as to who set that bomb." Brady opened the door to the bank. "After you."

    Julia stepped into the cool quiet of the bank. There were only a few people working, two tellers, a loan officer, and the manager, who came out of her office when she saw them.

    After preliminary introductions, she said, "I've arranged for a cashier's check as you directed, Mr. Brady. It will be ready momentarily."

    "Good. Now we'd like to take a look at the safe-deposit box," Brady said.

    The manager took them over to the vault area where the boxes were located. She asked both Elena and Julia to sign in, then escorted them all into the room where Julia inserted the key into the lock. Her anxiety made her fumble, but eventually the lock turned.

    The manager pulled out the box and set it on the table. "I'll leave you to it."

    Julia looked to Elena for guidance. "Do you want to-" J

    "Go ahead," Elena said. "You know more about this than I do."

    Julia drew in a deep breath and looked into the open box. There was a white business-size envelope with their names,
Yulia
and Elena, scrawled across the top. She didn't stop to open it, setting it aside for the moment. A large manila envelope came next. It was filled with scraps of paper that were yellowed with age and scribbled upon with blue and black ink. It took Julia a moment to realize that the notations were musical scores. She wondered if they had been composed by her great-grandfather. She wanted to linger, but everyone was waiting.

    "Keep going," Alex urged. "You can figure out the music later."

    The final object in the box was a Russian icon, a framed picture of St. George about five by seven inches in size. Julia remembered it hanging over the doorway in her parents' bedroom. In fact, they'd had icons all over the house. For good luck, her mother had told her. Some luck the icons had brought them.

    "That's it," she said. "A letter, musical scores, and a picture." She felt disappointed. "I don't know what I was expecting, but…" She glanced down at the musical scores again. "Wait. If these scores were written by my great-grandfather before the revolution, they could be worth a fortune."

    "Really?" Elena asked. "Who was our
greatgrandfather
?"

    "A famous composer, Ivan
Slovinsky
. He ran to Paris during the revolution. He lived in exile there for the rest of his life," Julia explained. "Our parents must have believed the scores would be worth enough to set them up in a new life." She looked down at the letter. "I guess we should read this."

    "Save it for later," Brady suggested. "Let's get your check and get out of here."

    Julia picked up the envelopes and the picture, and they left the room. The bank manager asked Brady to sign a form, then handed them a check closing the account.

    "Why are we withdrawing the money?" Alex asked, as they made their way toward the front door. "This is a bank. Seems like a good place to keep it."

    "I assume the girls will want to split it up," Brady replied. "If they tried to get the money on their own, they'd need a lot of forms and new identification. I thought I'd make it easier for them. It's the least I can do." He paused, turning his gaze on Julia. "I do want to take a look at that letter just in case there's anything in there to lead us to the people who killed your parents. May I suggest that we go to one of our safe houses, so that we can all feel comfortable and secure? It's not far from here."

    Julia glanced at Alex, who shrugged in agreement. She turned to Elena. "Is that okay with you?"

    "Whatever you think is best," Elena replied. "I'll leave it up to you."

    "We'll follow you," Alex said, as they entered the parking lot.

    "I think the girls should come with me," Brady said. "So I can protect them."

    "I can do that, too." The air between Brady and Alex suddenly sizzled as the two men seemed immensely irritated with each other. "I'll take Elena and Julia. We'll follow you to the safe house," Alex repeated, "and we'll keep the letter and everything else with us."

    Brady looked as if he wanted to argue, then forced a tight smile. "All right. We'll play it your way…for now."

    Julia didn't like the tone of Brady's voice. Was there something else he hadn't told them? She'd thought it was over. They'd found the safe-deposit box. She had the contents in her bag. Everything that had belonged to her parents was now in her possession. She should 350 be feeling happy, not tense or worried, but she couldn't stop the uneasiness sweeping through her. The tiny hairs at the back of her neck prickled as they walked farther into the dark shadows of the garage, which seemed more menacing now than before.

    She wished someone else would come into the garage or a car would drive by. It was too quiet-eerily quiet. The only sounds came from their feet hitting the pavement-four pairs of feet. Or was that five?

    Julia took a quick glance behind her. She sensed someone was watching them.

    She must have paused, because Brady put his hand under her elbow. "Keep walking," he said in a low voice.