An Uncommon Honeymoon

by Susan Mann

  The group started for the house. Ilya and Sasha slipped their hands in Quinn’s. James wrangled two rolling suitcases while Mila pulled the third.

  “An agency we work with got some things together for them before we left Russia,” Quinn said. “Their sponsors, if you will.”

  “That’s so great,” Katie said. “Most of our residents come to us with next to nothing. We give them new clothes not only as provision, but to show them how valued they are to us. We’re here to restore their humanity.”

  “It sounds like this will be a great fit,” Quinn said.

  They climbed the front steps and entered the house. They were still in the entryway when a sleek, black Labrador retriever trotted toward them. His thick otter-like tail furiously whipped back and forth.

  Katie rubbed his side. “This is Bear. He’s the most enthusiastic member of our welcoming committee.”

  The dog greeted each person with a polite sniff. He received chin scratches and ear rubs in return. When he completed his rounds, he circled back and sat on his haunches next to Sasha. He looked up at Katie expectantly.

  From the interest Quinn read on Katie’s face, Bear’s action was significant. No doubt a therapy dog, she guessed he was signaling something of importance to Katie. Quinn doubted it was a coincidence he’d picked out the most vulnerable of the three to sit by. Her esteem for the ranch grew with each passing moment.

  “Let’s drop your bags in your room and then I’ll show you around,” Katie said.

  They walked straight down a hall and stopped outside a doorway. “This will be your room. We usually have two per room, but we brought in bunk beds so you can be together. If that doesn’t suit you, we can make some adjustments.”

  Quinn peered into the room. The walls were painted a soothing blue. Patchwork quilts covered the three beds. A thick pillow and a stuffed lamb sat atop each. It was homey and inviting. And perfect.

  “No,” the siblings said as one. Mila spoke for all after they exchanged glances. “We want to stay together.”

  “Well, then we guessed right, didn’t we?” Katie said with a bright smile.

  While the kids, with Bear’s assistance, sorted out who would take which bed, Quinn, James, and Katie stood outside the room in the hallway. “Thank you for taking them in on such short notice,” Quinn said.

  “We’re glad we’re able to help.” Katie’s voice lowered when she said, “Especially when we got a phone call from the State Department asking us to take in three American citizens arriving from Russia.”

  “We didn’t take someone else’s place, did we?” Quinn wanted the best for the kids, but not at the expense of others equally in need.

  “No, not at all.” Katie slipped her hands in her pockets. “It was perfect timing. Two girls just left us a couple of days ago. We usually have only girls stay with us, but under the circumstances we’re happy to make an exception. If anything, because of social stigmas, boys and young men coming out of trafficking don’t get the kind of help and attention they need. We’re glad to be here to help Ilya.”

  “How long do your residents typically stay?” James asked.

  “It’s hard to say. Every victim has different issues, different needs. The shortest we’ve ever had was six weeks. The longest anyone can stay is two years. Those are usually cases where it’s not safe to return them to the home because it’s where the abuse started in the first place. So often, these kids run away from home and then end up being trafficked. Sometimes they’re lured away from home by online predators promising modeling or acting jobs. All that to say, when they leave, we make sure each one is placed into a safe, stable environment.”

  “That shouldn’t be an issue here,” Quinn said and gave Katie a summary of how the Semenovs had ended up being sold to work for a drug dealer. “Their parents had no idea what happened to them until recently. They’re more than ready for their children to come home.”

  Katie nodded. “A liaison at the State Department put us in contact with them. They’re completely on board and have already signed the paperwork. And we’ll certainly keep them in the loop. They’ll need counseling and support as well.” She smiled at the kids as they walked out of the bedroom. “Let’s take a walk and I’ll show you around.”

  Katie led them through a sitting room, complete with leather chairs and stone fireplace; the dining room with a long table at the center; and the kitchen. Quinn noted everywhere they went, Bear stayed glued to Sasha’s side.

  They descended a set of stairs and stood in the doorway of a large, open room. The many windows installed in one wall afforded an incredible view of the ranch’s open acreage. Soothing music played as six girls around Mila’s age stretched on mats. At the direction of the instructor at the front of the room, they changed positions.

  “Have you ever done yoga?” Katie asked in a voice just above a whisper.

  Three heads shook.

  “We’ll teach you. You’ll love it.” Katie pointed at the glass door. “Let’s sneak out the back.”

  Single file, they quietly skimmed the wall as they headed for the door. Only Bear’s jingling tags and toenails tapping the hardwood floor announced their presence.

  Outside again, they walked to the building the purpose of which Quinn had yet to divine. “This is our school,” Katie said. “We have several teachers on staff.”

  Mila’s head snapped toward Katie. “We get to go to school?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” They entered the classroom filled with tables, chairs, books, and computers. A whiteboard attached to one wall was covered with algebra written with black marker. “We’ll find out where you are and go from there.”

  Ilya’s shoulders drooped. Chin near his chest, he mumbled, “I can’t read very well.”

  “That’s okay,” Katie said gently. “Our teachers are really good at teaching that.”

  “Science, too?” Mila asked.

  “Absolutely. It’s fully accredited. Everything you learn here in our school will be accepted by the school you’ll attend when you go home.”

  They left the school and crossed the yard. In the distance, a tan and black Rottweiler loped toward them. Quinn could have sworn the big, solid dog had a smile on its face.

  “Hey, Buttercup. The back forty secure?” Katie called out. Buttercup came at them with such speed and exuberance, Quinn was afraid she’d knock them over like bowling pins. She stepped in front of Ilya and bent her knees, ready to take the brunt of Buttercup’s mass hurtling toward them.

  The dog skidded to a stop in front of Katie. “You come to say hi to our new residents?” She thumped Buttercup’s side.

  Much like Bear, Buttercup inspected each visitor with her nose. She was in the middle of sniffing James’s shoes when a ruckus sounded from the goat pen. Her head snapped up and her entire body stiffened. The Rottie’s nostrils flared and relaxed repeatedly as she sniffed the breeze. Apparently, the goats’ issues required further investigation. Filled with a new sense of purpose, she trotted off.

  Katie’s eyes remained on the retreating dog. Her affection for Buttercup was obvious when she said, “As you’ve likely figured out, Buttercup is an important member of ranch security.” She started the group toward the chicken coop. “We’ll check on the chickens and let her sort out the goats.”

  When they reached the pen, Katie picked up a metal bucket by the handle and held it toward Ilya. “Could you do me a huge favor and feed the chickens?” When the boy hesitated, Katie said, “Come. I’ll show you.” The two scooted through the gate. The chickens converged when Katie took a handful of feed and tossed it about. Ilya copied the action. The birds pecked at the ground.

  “I have an important job for you, Ilya,” Katie said, her voice turning almost conspiratorial. “Every day, you’ll need to find the eggs these chickens lay. If you go into the henhouse right now, I bet you’ll find one or two.”

  Ilya’s eyes rounded and he nodded solemnly. He disappeared into the wooden coop. A moment later, he reappeared c
radling a single brown egg. He cupped it in both hands as if it were the most precious thing in the universe.

  Ilya grinned at Quinn with unbridled joy. She smiled back and blinked at the sudden wetness in her eyes. It was true the kids had a ways to go. But in that moment, and for the first time, Quinn truly believed they were going to be okay.

  James sidled up and put his arm around her. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Without having to utter a word, she knew. He believed they would be okay, too.

  “Nicely done, Ilya,” Katie said enthusiastically. “Do you like eggs? If you do, we can have Danielle fix it for your lunch if you want. If not, that’s okay, too. We have lots of food, and Danielle is an amazing cook.”

  Ilya gaped at Katie, clearly astounded by being asked if he would like something or not. “I’d like to have it for lunch.”

  “Super,” Katie said. “Come on out and take it to Danielle in the kitchen. Mila, can you go with your brother?”

  “Sure,” Mila said. “Come on, bratishka.”

  “Meet us at the goat pen,” Katie said as they walked toward the house.

  The remaining group ambled toward the goats. Sasha, with Katie on one side and Bear on the other, walked in front of James and Quinn. Katie talked to Sasha about how she would be helping tend the goats, just as Ilya was now an egg wrangler.

  Quinn held back from engaging in the conversation. She was aware the kids had grown attached to her, and for obvious reason. But she and James couldn’t stay. And it was important for them, especially Sasha, to trust the ranch staff and feel safe in their new environment. James and Quinn stepping back was part of that transition.

  Toward the end of Sasha’s goat orientation, Mila and Ilya rejoined the group. They moved on to greet the horses and learned all would get a chance to care for and ride them. And just as Ilya and Sasha had specific duties, Mila was given additional grooming responsibilities the younger and smaller kids couldn’t perform.

  Now that the tour was complete, they returned to the house. Katie said, “Why don’t you go unpack while James and Quinn and I go over some paperwork?”

  The siblings, and Bear, trundled off while the three adults headed for the room with the fireplace. Once seated, Quinn said, “It’s time for us to leave, isn’t it?”

  Katie’s smile was sympathetic. “I’m afraid so.” She folded her hands and rested them on her lap. “I can see how fond you are of them and how they’ve bonded to both of you. That’s a good sign.”

  “They’re very special young people,” James said, his voice tight with emotion.

  “I can tell,” Katie said. “I’m confident we can help them heal.”

  Quinn slipped her hand into James’s. “If it’s possible, we’d appreciate it if you could keep us updated on how they’re doing.”

  “Oh, for sure. If you want, we can also let you know when you can contact them directly.”

  “We’d like that,” James answered.

  “Good.” Katie handed Quinn a clipboard with a number of documents to sign. When the final paperwork was finished, Katie stood. “I’ll go get them and give you a few minutes to say good-bye.”

  Katie got up and disappeared down the hall. A moment later, the kids shuffled in alone. From their downcast expressions, they knew what was coming.

  Quinn put on a smile, even with the boulder of sorrow lodged in her chest. “It’s time for James and me to go.”

  Ilya’s eyes flooded with tears. “I don’t want you to.”

  “I know, sweetie.” Quinn ruffled Ilya’s golden hair. “But we have to go back to work.”

  “And those chickens look like they’ll be laying lots of eggs,” James added. “You’ll be busy every day.”

  “Will we ever see you again?” Sasha’s voice was nothing more than a croaking whisper.

  “Of course you will,” Quinn said. “We’ll make sure of it, won’t we, James?”

  “You bet.”

  The tears Quinn fought broke free as she gave first Ilya, then Sasha, a final hug. As she embraced Mila, Quinn whispered, “You are one of the bravest, strongest, and most courageous people I’ve ever known.”

  “We can never thank you enough for what you’ve done for us. All of us.” Mila stepped back and grinned as she wiped her cheeks. “And for the copy of Harry Potter you hid in my suitcase.”

  “I didn’t want you all missing out on the rest of the story just because we had to return the Russian one,” she said with a watery laugh.

  After watching them hug James, Quinn gazed into each face one last time. They were exactly where they needed to be. It didn’t make it any easier to leave them, though. As if to cement the idea in everyone’s minds they would all see each other again, she left with, “See you later.”

  After a final wave, she and James turned and walked across the room and out the front door. Quinn blew out a breath and swiped her forearm across her wet eyes. “It’s a good thing I’m not wearing makeup. I’d be a complete mess.”

  James laced his fingers with hers as they strolled across the dirt toward the SUV. “You’re beautiful even when you look like a raccoon.”

  “Thanks. I know you mean it since you’ve seen me that way more than once.”

  He shrugged. Her red, drippy nose and smeared makeup had never bothered him. “Like I’ve said, I’m always happy to be your Kleenex.” He opened her door, and as she heaved herself up into the seat, he asked, “Now that the kids are safe, you ready to go after Borovsky?”

  A renewed sense of purpose flamed in her chest. “Hell, yeah,” she growled. Her thirst for justice overcame her sadness. It felt good. “Let’s go nail that son of a bitch.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Quinn stared at the computer screen and frowned. She’d hit another dead end. She shifted in her butt-numbing chair at her desk inside the CIA library, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples. There just wasn’t enough information. She was never going to figure it out.

  Soft footfalls approached from behind. Before she swiveled around in her chair, she knew it was James.

  “Hey.” He kissed her cheek. “You ready to meet up with Sydney in the lab?”

  She drew a deep breath in through her nose. Her mood lightened as she reveled in his scent. She heartily approved of the Viking cologne he’d purchased duty-free in Reykjavik. “Yeah.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  Apparently her mood hadn’t sufficiently lightened.

  The raspberry she blew might not have been particularly professional, but it perfectly encapsulated her frustration. “I still can’t find Borovsky’s yacht. You would think one as big as Mila said it was wouldn’t be that hard to find.”

  “Too bad she couldn’t remember the name.”

  “It is. But she was just a scared kid. I can’t blame her for not remembering every detail. Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t block it all out of her mind.”

  “True. What about Reem? Was she able to get any intel from Yefimov or Viktor?” He sat in the chair next to her desk. “Get one of them to roll on Borovsky?”

  “Not yet, but let me check again.” She clicked open her email. Two new messages sat in her inbox. “Oh, good. Got one from Katie and one from Reem. Which one first?”

  “How are the kids?”

  Quinn opened the email and scanned it. “They had a good first week and are all settled in. The hope is their parents will be able to visit them in a few weeks.”

  “Great. And what’s Reem got to say?”

  Her breath caught as she scrolled through Reem’s message. “Yefimov is dead.”

  James bolted up. “What?”

  “He was found dead in his cell with a sheet wrapped around his neck. Russian authorities are calling it a suicide.”

  “Suicide my ass,” James said. “Borovsky ordered the hit because Yefimov knew too much and Borovsky was afraid he’d roll.”

  “Which was exactly what we were trying to get him to do.”

  “What about Viktor?”
>
  Her shoulders sagged as she read Reem’s email further. “He’s been released. All the evidence against him was miraculously misplaced. Payment for taking Yefimov out?”

  “Maybe. Probably. Either way, Borovsky got his money’s worth out of his people inside that police department. Dave has to have copies of the video recordings we made inside the drug den. Reem can give them to the police again.”

  “She already did, but not before Viktor was released. He’s gone with the wind.” She slumped in her chair. “Crap. We’re back to square one.”

  “Not exactly. We don’t have to worry about Yefimov and Anatoly anymore.”

  “Silver lining.” She usually felt sympathy at the passing of a fellow human being. But given the devastated young lives those two had left behind, their ultimate and eternal disposition didn’t faze her.

  “And now, with Ziegler’s formula, we have a shot at coaxing Borovsky from his hidey-hole.”

  “Good point.” She locked her computer and stood. “Let’s go see what that green goo of Ziegler’s does exactly.”

  They left the library and proceeded to the Directorate of Science and Technology wing. They badged through a set of locked double doors and strode down a long hallway. Stark white walls and harsh, fluorescent lights gave off a cold, sterile vibe. The faint astringent odor didn’t help lessen the unnerving feeling that made goose bumps sprout over Quinn’s skin.

  “It gives me the creeps down here,” she said. Her voice bounced off the walls. “I hope we don’t accidentally walk into a secret lab with specimens of alien life forms pickled and floating in jars.”

  “You mean in that gross, murky yellow liquid?”

  “Yes! Exactly.”

  “Then don’t go in there,” James said and pointed to a door as they passed.

  A glance at a tag on the wall indicated the room was filled with cleaning supplies. Smirking, she asked, “A janitor’s closet?”

  “See, that’s what they want you to think it is.” They came to a stop in front of another locked door.

  “I get it,” she said. “It’s actually the Langley version of Area Fifty-one.” Quinn swiped her badge, activating a retinal scanner. She positioned her eye in front of the lens. Blue light filled her vision.