Chapter 3 - The Photograph Taken Yesterday
Vera had spent most of her adult life outdoors.
Weather made sense to her.
Plants made sense.
An oak tree leaned because wind had pushed it for years.
A rose developed black spot because moisture remained too long on the leaves.
A greenhouse lost heat because glass cracked, seals failed, or machinery broke.
Problems had causes.
Causes could be found.
People were harder.
By three that afternoon, she had learned that the camera hidden beyond her cottage had been installed at least four days earlier.
Nobody could tell her who installed it.
That made her furious.
Nikolai reacted by doubling security.
That made her more furious.
By five, two guards stood outside the greenhouse while she worked.
At 5:12, Vera walked outside.
“You two.”
They straightened.
“Names?”
The taller one blinked.
“Ma’am?”
“I refuse to spend the evening referring to you as Tall One and Other Tall One.”
“Jason.”
“Peter.”
“Good. Jason, Peter, go away.”
They exchanged a look.
“We have instructions.”
“From Nikolai.”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
Vera marched toward the mansion.
Nikolai’s office doors were open.
He stood behind his desk speaking to three men in dark suits.
Vera walked straight through the meeting.
“Out.”
One man glanced at Nikolai.
Nikolai rubbed his temple.
“Five minutes.”
The men left.
Vera shut the doors.
“I have bodyguards.”
“Yes.”
“Remove them.”
“No.”
“I trim hedges.”
“You are currently a target who occasionally trims hedges.”
“I cannot work with two armed men following me.”
“You can.”
“I refuse.”
“You frequently refuse reasonable things.”
“Reasonable?”
Vera pointed toward the windows.
“You have turned my vegetable garden into a security checkpoint.”
“They found surveillance equipment thirty yards from your home.”
“So find who put it there.”
“We are.”
“Then let me work.”
“No.”
That single syllable almost started another argument.
But Vera noticed something on his desk.
Several printed photographs.
She approached.
Nikolai moved to block them.
Too late.
There were seven.
Vera recognized herself in every one.
Outside the grocery store.
At the gas station.
Carrying lumber from the hardware store.
Standing near the town bakery.
Sitting alone at an outdoor table with coffee.
Walking through the estate gates.
And one taken from across the lake.
Her cottage windows glowing in darkness.
Vera stopped breathing.
“You had seven.”
Nikolai said nothing.
“You showed me one.”
“I had received the others later.”
“Stop deciding what I can handle.”
His expression tightened.
“I am trying to keep you functional.”
“I am functional.”
“You haven’t eaten today.”
Vera stared at him.
“That is irrelevant.”
“You drank half a cup of coffee at seven this morning.”
“Are you monitoring my breakfast too?”
“I notice things.”
“Apparently so do your enemies.”
The words landed badly.
Nikolai looked away.
Vera immediately regretted them.
Not because they were false.
Because she saw the guilt in his face.
“Nikolai.”
“They chose you because of me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes.”
“You said you didn’t.”
“I said it because I wanted to be wrong.”
Vera’s anger softened despite herself.
He placed both hands on the desk.
“The Helian Group studies weaknesses. Families. Partners. Employees. Anyone whose disappearance would alter someone’s decisions.”
“And they think my disappearance would alter yours.”
Nikolai’s silence answered.
Vera looked again at the photographs.
A strange emotion moved beneath her fear.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Something more dangerous.
Recognition.
For three years, there had been an invisible line between them.
Employer and employee.
Wealth and ordinary life.
Danger and soil beneath fingernails.
She had treated that line as permanent.
Apparently other people had not.
“Nikolai.”
His eyes lifted.
“Would it?”
“Would what?”
“Alter your decisions.”
He became very still.
“If something happened to me.”
“Don’t ask questions you already understand.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Then say it.”
His eyes held hers.
For one second Vera thought he might.
Instead an alarm sounded.
Not loud.
Three brief electronic tones.
Nikolai grabbed his phone.
“What?”
A voice spoke rapidly through the receiver.
Vera saw the change immediately.
“Where?”
He looked toward her.
“Keep her inside.”
Vera’s temper returned.
“Do not refer to me like luggage.”
Nikolai ignored her.
He ended the call and opened a drawer.
When Vera saw the handgun inside, her stomach dropped.
He didn’t touch it.
He removed a second satellite phone instead.
“Someone crossed the north fence.”
“The camera?”
“Possibly.”
“Then I’m coming.”
“No.”
“I know that property better than your security team.”
“No.”
“I know every drainage ditch, deer path and service trail.”
“No.”
“Nikolai—”
He stepped close.
Not threatening.
Not touching.
Simply close enough that Vera saw exhaustion beneath his eyes.
“Please,” he said quietly. “For once, do not make me fight you while I’m trying to protect you.”
Her answer died.
The office door opened.
Dmitri entered.
“Tracks only. Whoever crossed saw the patrol and turned back.”
“What tracks?” Vera asked.
“Boots.”
“Direction?”
Dmitri looked at Nikolai.
Vera snapped, “If both of you keep doing that, I will lose my mind.”
“Toward the northern ridge,” Dmitri said.
Vera frowned.
“What?”
“You know something?” Nikolai asked.
“Maybe.”
She moved to the estate map hanging on the wall.
“The north ridge is useless if someone wants the mansion.”
“Why?”
“Too steep. Too exposed. But if you follow it east…”
Her finger traced the contour lines.
“…you reach the old irrigation service road.”
Dmitri stepped closer.
“That road is abandoned.”
“For vehicles.”
She looked at Nikolai.
“Not on foot.”
“How close?”
“To my greenhouse? Five minutes.”
Silence.
Vera continued.
“There’s an old pump station.”
Nikolai’s expression hardened.
“Can someone hide there?”
“A person could live there for a week if they brought supplies.”
Dmitri was already calling security.
Twenty minutes later they found evidence someone had used it.
Food wrappers.
A portable battery.
A second camera lens.
And a small notebook.
Most pages had been torn out.
One remained.
Three dates.
Three times.
And one sentence.
SHE LEAVES ALONE ON THURSDAYS.
Thursday.
Tomorrow.
Nikolai read it once.
Then again.
Vera watched his hand close around the notebook.
“Nikolai.”
He looked at her.
Whatever distance still existed between them had vanished.
“You are not leaving this estate tomorrow.”
Vera should have argued.
Instead she stared at the final line someone had written beneath the schedule.
It was only five words.
But they changed everything.
VOSS WILL COME FOR HER.
May you like
Whoever was watching Vera did not merely know Nikolai cared.
They were counting on it.
