Fixed in Fear (8 page)

“Robbie.” Mort nodded toward the scene. “Who's that?”

Mort handed Claire his beer. His gut told him he needed his hands free.

Robbie glanced over from his seated position. “Beats me. Some teacher maybe?”

Claire looked over. “If that is a teacher, she has someone else buying her clothes. Look at that dress. Couture to a children's field day? No. That is no teacher.”

At that moment the woman released the girls from her embrace. Hadley held on to the woman's scarf, pulling it from her head as she stood.

“No,” Mort whispered before he yelled.
“No!”

His alarm brought Robbie to his feet. Mort ran a direct line to where Hadley and Hayden stood, charging through the still-active game, dodging young girls chasing a soccer ball and ignoring two referees and scores of parents screeching at him to get off the field. Robbie was five feet behind him.

“Hadley! Hayden!” Mort roared as he ran. “Stand still. Stay right there.”

The woman looked Mort's way. She kept a gentle hand on each girl's shoulder. Mort watched her hands, hoping he wouldn't need to reach for his service revolver but ready if he needed to.

“Papa! You ran across the game!” Hayden laughed. “You can't do that.”

Hadley pointed to her father. “Yeah, Dad. You can't do that, either.”

Mort came to a stop in front of the three of them, wheezing. He kept his focus on the woman's eyes as he steadied his breath. Blue eyes. As lovely as her mother's. He recalled the first time he'd seen them. She was newly born, squirming and still slippery from her voyage into the world. She'd opened those eyes for the first time and Mort fell in love.

“Hello, Dad.” Allie's smile betrayed no emotion. “It's good to see you.”

“Allie!” Robbie gasped as he caught up with them. “What the hell?” He grabbed his daughters' arms and yanked them toward him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey!” Hadley twisted herself free from her father. “That hurts. And you said a bad word. Two times.”

“This is our aunt Allie!” Hayden jumped and clapped. “We've seen the pictures. You said she lived far away and here she is! Standing right next to us!”

Mort pulled Hayden closer, keeping his hand on her shoulder.

“Isn't it something, Papa?” Hadley skipped over to her grandfather and held his other hand. “Hey, Dad. Did you know it was Aunt Allie who sent us those pretty necklaces? Mom said they were trash, but I knew they weren't. Maybe if Mom knew Aunt Allie sent them she—”

“Girls, go stand by Mom.” Robbie kept his gaze riveted on his sister. “Stay there until I get back.”

“But I want to talk to Aunt Allie.” Hadley tugged on Mort's hand. “Tell him it's okay, Papa.”

“Girls!”
Robbie's bark caused each of the girls to flinch. “Do as I say. Go stand by your mother.”

“Don't yell like that, Dad.” Hadley's brow furrowed. “It's not nice and I don't like it. You're scaring me.”

Mort tightened his hold on each girl's hand. They looked up at him and he did his best to give them a calming smile. “Do as your dad says, okay, you two? We need to talk to Aunt Allie alone for a few minutes.”

“Isn't she pretty?” Hadley was looking up toward her aunt. “You're so prettier than your pictures.”

“Yeah,” Hayden agreed. “How'd you get so pretty related to grumpy old Dad?”

“Girls.” Robbie's tone was softer this time. “Go.”

“No!” the two protested in unison.

Allie's smile didn't change as she addressed her smitten nieces. “I thank you for the compliment, but I can already see you're going to be the most beautiful girls the world has ever seen.”

“Really?” Hadley gushed.

“Not me,” Hayden insisted, but the look on her face signaled a desire for Allie to tell her it was true.

Mort tugged the girls' hands. “Scoot now. Back to Mom.” He looked down at Hayden. “This is a ten-zero, sweetie. Now take Hadley's hand and run back to Mom.”

Hayden's widened eyes and dropped smile told him she understood the code.
Dangerous situation. Proceed with caution.
She set her tiny jaw firm and nodded.

“Come on, Hadley. Gotta go.” She pulled her twin's arm, dragging her away as Hadley shouted her protests. Mort watched them as they ran down the side of the field. He didn't turn back until he saw Claire gather each of them up onto her lap.

“Stay away from my girls.” Robbie took a menacing step toward his sister. Mort grabbed his arm.

“They're beautiful. And I like the school you've chosen.” Allie's voice was calm, her demeanor as cool as if she'd just spoken to her brother yesterday. “If the money I'm sending for tuition isn't enough, let me know. It's important they have an excellent education. It's the foundation for everything.”

Robbie sputtered before speaking, as though he couldn't comprehend his sister's audacity. “The money you send us is drenched in blood. Claire and I wouldn't touch it if we were starving. The only reason we allow you to continue depositing the checks is to keep at least
that
money out of the hands of all those very bad people you associate with.”

“Robbie.” Mort's tone was a warning. He didn't need to provoke Allie. He needed to understand why she was there.

“Your boyfriend's a drug czar, Allie. A murdering, life-ruining, Russian gangster.” Robbie shook his head in disgust. “Stay away from my family.”

“My boyfriend?” Allie turned a quizzical face to Mort before answering her brother. “Do you mean Vadim Tokarev? The man who kidnapped me and flew me to a Moscow hellhole? Beat and raped me just because he could? Is that the man you're calling my boyfriend?”

Robbie's face softened. Mort knew his son was torn. Like Hadley and Hayden, Robbie and Allie had been inseparable as they grew up. Allie had protected her younger brother. In return, Robbie adored her, screening every boy she dated in high school as though he were being vetted for a cabinet position. In his mind, no one was good enough for his sister. But Robbie understood the path Allie had chosen. Vadim Tokarev did, indeed, take Allie away at gunpoint in retaliation for Allie's lover's murdering Tokarev's mistress. It chipped away at Mort's sanity to think about how the Russian might have exacted his ruthless revenge from his daughter. But both Mort and Robbie knew Allie had turned the situation around. She became Tokarev's confidante and lover. She ruled over his international criminal enterprise as a true equal. Robbie couldn't come to grips with the fact that his sister enjoyed the unspeakable wealth Tokarev gained through the misery and death of others.

What Robbie didn't know was that Allie had graduated from being the woman standing next to the criminal and had overseen criminal operations of her own. She'd captained a prostitution ring right here in Seattle that resulted in the deaths of at least three women. And she'd ordered murders herself. Even the execution of an innocent child.

Mort kept that damning information to himself. He saw no reason his son should have to grapple with the knowledge that his sister was a murderer.

“Look, Allie.” The original rage accompanying Robbie's surprise at seeing his sister eased at the mention of the pain she'd endured. “I'm sorry for what you've gone through. But you've made some choices, you know?”

“I miss my family.” Allie sounded the same way she did as a teenager, when Edie would ground her and she'd come to Mort for sympathy. “I just want to see my nieces.” She alternated her gaze between Mort and Robbie. “I want to see my dad and my brother. That's all.”

Robbie looked at his dad. Mort could see the pain in his eyes. He felt it himself.

“So, what's that mean?” Robbie asked her. “You coming home now? What does Tokarev think about that?”

“Tokarev is dead.” Allie's voice held no sorrow. “Months ago. A risk of his chosen career, I suppose.”

Mort was stunned. While his beat was Seattle homicide, he was tuned in to police agencies across the country and around the world. This was the first he'd heard of Vadim Tokarev's demise.

“Where's that leave you?” Robbie wanted to know. “Are you coming home? Are you willing to live a real life?”

Allie brushed a stray lock of sand-colored hair behind her ear. “You know nothing of my life, Robbie. I'm not the monster you think I am.”

“No?” Robbie's anger surged back. “What about your threat to transfer money to the Righteous Red if Claire and I refused your trust for the girls? That doesn't sound monstrous to you?”

Allie smiled again. The same smile so empty of emotion. “I said that to get you to take the money. That's all. I never would have given such large sums to that pack of genocidal maniacs.”

“I saw the papers, Allie!” Robbie was nearly shouting. “I talked to that lawyer you sent over here!”

“Let's stop this,” Mort intervened. “This isn't the time or the place.”

“And it's not going to be
any
time or
any
place near Claire or my girls unless I know Allie's putting that life behind her.” Robbie ran a frustrated hand through his own thick, sandy hair. “Is that what you're telling us, Allie? Are you ready to come home and live an honest life?”

Allie said nothing as she held her brother's gaze. Robbie huffed his frustration and turned to Mort.

“You deal with her, Dad. Just make sure she stays the hell away from my girls.”

Mort and Allie watched Robbie make his way back to where Claire sat with his daughters. Mort saw the twins digging their feet into the turf as their mother and father gathered up the lawn chairs and blankets. They walked with their little blond heads down as Claire and Robbie led them by the hand off the field and toward the parking lot. There'd be no soccer for the twins today. When they rounded the building, Mort turned back to Allie. He stood, letting his eyes drink in the image of the daughter he hadn't seen in nearly a year.

“You okay?” His tone was soft. “You have access to doctors?”

Allie shrugged. “My bruises have healed. And there are doctors all around the world, Daddy. I'm all right.”

Mort tasted the bitter metallic bile at the back of his throat. He was glad Vadim Tokarev was dead. Knowing what the Russian had likely done to his daughter, he hoped Tokarev's death was slow, hot, and exceedingly painful.

“You look good,” he said. “How are you on the inside?” Mort regretted the question as soon as he asked it.

Allie draped her navy scarf behind her neck and crossed her arms over her chest. “You mean, do I need a shrink to tell my troubles to? Maybe someone like Lydia? Is that what you're asking?”

He didn't like the derision in Allie's voice. Lydia had been prepared to die protecting Allie from herself.

“Where are you living these days?” Mort hoped a change of topic might keep the conversation flowing in a more productive way.

Allie shrugged. “I've grown accustomed to hotel living. It's quite convenient once you get the hang of traveling light. I get to experience a lot of different places.”

Mort wondered if she meant she was able to stay ahead of any law enforcement agency looking to arrest her. Or worse. Did she travel around hoping to elude enemies she might have made as she sat beside Tokarev atop one of the largest criminal enterprises in the Northern Hemisphere?

“Why are you here, Allie?” Mort waved his hand to reference the lovely and obviously expensive wardrobe she displayed. “My hunch is you're not here looking for a handout.”

She smiled. “I'm the one who paid off your houseboat, remember? It's like I said. I miss you. I miss Robbie and the girls.” Allie tossed one end of her scarf over her shoulder. The breeze caught and floated it behind her head—a royal train heralding a queen in the midst of a children's field day. Unexpectedly, her voice softened. “I'm lonely. I miss my family. I want to know my nieces.”

Mort pushed his heels into the grass beneath him. He jammed his hands into his pockets. He needed to keep himself from succumbing to the paternal instinct to reach out and pull his wayward daughter toward him into a welcoming embrace filled with the promise of a lifetime of protection. He looked around, past the swarming milieu of girls, coaches, parents, and teachers. He saw an equipment shed off to his right. Mort nodded toward it and started walking. Allie followed in silence, as though she understood he needed more privacy to say what would come next. When they arrived at the far end of the shed, he turned back to her.

“Listen, Allie. The first thing I want you to know is I love you. I miss you like crazy. And despite his anger, I know your brother misses you, too.”

Allie leaned against the rough-sided building. “I sense a
but
coming.”

“No
but,
maybe an
and.
” Mort took a long slow breath and drank in his daughter's polished beauty.
This is what Edie would have looked like if she had the inclination or the money,
he thought. “We miss you
and
we need to know this life you've been living is over.” He steeled himself for what he needed to say. “I know, Allie.”

She tilted her chin, as though confused. Mort saw the dare in her eyes. “You'll need to be more specific, Dad. What is it you think you know?”

An odd thought came to him.
I need a time machine. I need a vehicle to take me back. Back to a time when I could stop her from stepping foot on the road that led us here.
But he wondered how deep into history he'd have to travel. Could he remember a time when Allison Edith Grant, his beloved firstborn, hadn't been determined to break every rule she encountered? No matter how small?

No. He couldn't.

“I know about the prostitution ring. You ran it for Tokarev.”

Allie's eyes flashed for one fleeting moment. With what, he wondered. Rage? Fear? In the next heartbeat he could see she'd regained control of her emotions. Still, she didn't respond.