Chapter 4 - The Phone She Swore She Would Never Carry
The next morning Vera woke to the sound of someone knocking.
She checked the clock.
6:14.
“This had better be coffee.”
“It is.”
Nikolai’s voice came from the other side of the guest-room door.
Vera sat upright.
Nikolai Voss had brought her coffee.
At 6:14 in the morning.
Either civilization was ending or the situation was worse than she thought.
She opened the door.
He held out a cup.
“No guards standing beside you?”
“They are downstairs.”
“How romantic.”
His expression shifted.
Vera instantly wished she had chosen another word.
She took the coffee.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Neither moved.
Finally Vera said, “You slept?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
“I had work.”
“You had anxiety.”
His eyebrows rose.
“That is not a diagnosis you are qualified to make.”
“You stood in a kitchen until two in the morning waiting for a groundskeeper.”
“An irresponsible groundskeeper.”
“There he is.”
The faintest smile appeared.
Then disappeared.
“The phone.”
“No.”
“You agreed yesterday.”
“I agreed temporarily.”
“This remains temporary.”
“How temporary?”
“Until Helian is no longer a threat.”
“So possibly 2045.”
Nikolai reached into his coat and handed her the satellite phone.
She reluctantly took it.
“There are three buttons,” he explained.
“I know how phones work.”
“This one is different.”
“Nikolai—”
“The red button alerts estate security immediately. The side button contacts Dmitri. Holding both for three seconds activates a silent emergency signal.”
Vera studied the device.
“And the tracking?”
“Always active.”
“I still hate that.”
“I know.”
“Who sees it?”
“My security command.”
“And you?”
“Yes.”
“Can random employees see where I am?”
“No.”
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
She gave him a suspicious look.
He met it without embarrassment.
Vera sighed.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Do not make me repeat it.”
A surprising warmth entered his eyes.
It lasted half a second.
Then Dmitri appeared downstairs.
“Nikolai.”
The tone erased everything else.
They entered the library.
A laptop displayed photographs of the pump station.
Dmitri pointed toward the notebook.
“We found fingerprints.”
“Helian?” Nikolai asked.
“Maybe. But there’s another issue.”
He enlarged a security photograph.
A small metal device sat beneath the pump-station table.
“What is it?” Vera asked.
“Signal repeater.”
“For the camera?”
Dmitri shook his head.
“For the estate radio network.”
Nikolai became motionless.
“Explain.”
“Someone used it to copy security frequencies.”
Vera understood before Dmitri finished.
“They can listen to the guards.”
“Yes.”
“So whenever security moves, they know.”
“Yes.”
Nikolai looked toward the window.
“How long?”
“Impossible to know.”
Vera stared at the photograph.
Something bothered her.
“Zoom in.”
Dmitri did.
“The cable.”
“What about it?”
“That green connector.”
She leaned closer.
“I bought those.”
Nikolai looked at her.
“What?”
“For the greenhouse sensor network. Same connector, same weatherproof sleeve.”
Dmitri frowned.
“Common equipment?”
“No.”
Vera pointed.
“I had to special-order them because the old European pump controls use an unusual diameter.”
The room went silent.
“How many arrived?” Nikolai asked.
“Twenty.”
“How many did you use?”
“Eighteen.”
“And the other two?”
“In the greenhouse maintenance cabinet.”
They were gone.
The cabinet had not been forced.
Only six people had keys.
Vera.
Nikolai.
Dmitri.
The greenhouse technician.
The estate maintenance supervisor.
And the security systems consultant.
Suddenly the threat was no longer beyond the fence.
It had been standing inside.
“Who is the consultant?” Vera asked.
Dmitri answered.
“Emmett Shaw.”
Vera knew him.
Polite.
Forgettable.
Forty-something.
Usually carrying a tablet.
He had eaten lunch beside her twice.
Once he had asked whether she lived alone.
A cold feeling spread through her.
“When was he last here?”
“Three days ago.”
“Before the camera was found.”
“Yes.”
Nikolai was already issuing instructions.
“Find him.”
Dmitri nodded.
“Quietly?”
“Very.”
Vera grabbed her coat.
Nikolai looked over.
“Where are you going?”
“To count inventory.”
“You are not leaving the house.”
“The greenhouse is thirty yards away.”
“No.”
“Nikolai.”
“No.”
She stared at him.
Then she took the satellite phone from her pocket and placed it dramatically on his desk.
“If you want this attached to me, you have to let me move.”
His eyes narrowed.
“That is extortion.”
“I prefer negotiation.”
“You are terrible at negotiation.”
“You’re considering it.”
He was.
Finally he exhaled.
“Two guards.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“One guard and Dmitri.”
Dmitri looked between them.
“I apparently have no vote.”
“Correct,” they said simultaneously.
Vera almost smiled.
Twenty minutes later she entered the greenhouse.
Everything appeared normal.
Rows of roses.
Tools.
Moist soil.
Warm glass.
But now she looked differently.
Someone had entered her space.
Someone had opened her cabinet.
Someone had taken equipment.
She checked the shelves.
Nothing else missing.
Then she noticed dirt beneath the rear bench.
Fresh dirt.
Wrong color.
The greenhouse soil was dark compost.
This was pale gray clay.
Vera crouched.
“Dmitri.”
He came over.
“What?”
She pointed.
“That soil doesn’t come from here.”
“Where does it come from?”
“The lake bluff.”
Nikolai, who had ignored her instructions and followed them anyway, appeared behind him.
“What’s on the bluff?”
Vera stood.
“Your old boathouse.”
Nikolai’s eyes darkened.
“It’s locked.”
“So was my cabinet.”
They found the boathouse door closed.
The lock showed no damage.
Dmitri opened it with a master key.
Inside was nothing unusual at first.
A covered speedboat.
Old ropes.
Storage cabinets.
Fishing equipment Nikolai probably hadn’t touched in years.
Then Vera’s satellite phone beeped.
Once.
She looked at the screen.
NO NETWORK.
“That’s impossible,” Dmitri said.
“Satellite phones don’t need the estate network.”
Nikolai stepped closer.
A second message appeared.
UNKNOWN DEVICE DETECTED.
Dmitri immediately moved toward the rear wall.
Behind a stack of old life jackets they found a compact electronic jammer.
Beside it was another object.
A photograph.
Vera picked it up.
This one was not taken in town.
It showed her inside Nikolai’s greenhouse.
Photographed through the glass.
On the back, someone had written:
HE LOOKS AT HER WHEN HE THINKS NOBODY SEES.
Vera slowly turned toward Nikolai.
May you like
For once, the man who always had an answer had none.
And the silence between them suddenly became far more dangerous than the enemy outside.
