Roksi?
She looked up. The wind? Mila?
She saw the little girl in pink again—Mila. Standing behind their father’s bleeding head. Her sister shook her head. No. No. No … no killumdum …
Angie tore her attention away from the distraction of the little ghost and looked back down into her father’s eyes. The color of her own. Full of pain. And hate. He hated her. Her own father hated her and was the most heinous kind of killer.
She pressed the blade across his throat, breaking flesh—
No. No. No, Roksi … stop, Roksi!
She shook herself at the sound of the little voice inside her head, the sweet little voice. Tears flooded her eyes. She was better than this. Better than her father. Better than the sum of her past.
Not again, Angie. Not like the Baptist. No more rage. You’ve found her, you’ve found Mila. Your sister. You’ve come home to her. To your mother. They wouldn’t want this. They don’t want him to make you a killer.
Shudders seized her body.
“Angie!” Maddocks was behind her. “Angie, stop—don’t do it!” His voice came into focus. The sound of the whole world came into focus. Birdsong. The ripples of small waves on the beach stones. His hands were on her shoulders, big, firm, pulling her back, away from her father’s bloody body.
“Drop the knife, Angie. Don’t do it. We’ve got him. We got him.”
But she twisted violently out of Maddocks’s grip, shaking herself free. She bent her face close to her father’s and said, voice low, her lips near his ear, “I’m not killing you, you motherfucking bastard. That would be too easy on you. I’m going to make you pay. I’m going to put you in a cage, just like you caged all those women. For the rest of your fucking miserable life.”
Maddocks hauled her brusquely up onto her feet. She didn’t have the strength to fight him. The knife fell from her hand. It clattered to her boots. Her whole body shook. Her teeth chattered. Tears streamed down her face.
Maddocks turned her to face him. He cupped her split cheek tenderly, looked into her eyes. “Focus, Angie,” he whispered. “I’ve got it. Focus. Go with Bennett here.”
The other male with Maddocks took her hand, drawing her away, leading her down the dock and back to the shore as Maddocks rolled her father over onto his belly and cuffed him. In the distance she heard the thud of choppers.
“They’re here,” Bennett called out to Maddocks. “Takumi’s guys are here.”
CHAPTER 56
A female paramedic finished suturing the cuts on Angie’s cheek and brow in addition to a gash at the back of her head. She must have hit her head in a few places when she was Tasered and fell to the ground. Or perhaps while being lugged unconscious from the hit man’s vehicle to the chopper. She winced as pain sparked afresh under the paramedic’s touch.
“Going to want proper stitches from a plastic surgeon for your face,” the paramedic said with a smile. “But this should do until you get yourself down to a hospital.”
Maddocks was at her side, watching. His presence was like a rock. They were in the living room at Semko Fishing Lodge, and afternoon sun streamed through the windows. The weather had finally broken, and outside bald eagles wheeled against a clear blue sky. Bennett, Maddocks’s pilot buddy, was waiting to fly Angie and Maddocks back to Vancouver.
Maddocks had explained to Angie how he’d located her, and she was humbled. By him. By her own recklessness and drive. But she had what she’d come for now. Answers. How she would yet process everything would be new territory, but her relief was profound. She knew who her mother was, and how Ana and Mila had likely ended their lives, and where the rest of their remains might lie—deep in the cold waters below Kaganov’s old fish pens. It was the resting place from where the little shoe had probably disarticulated from Mila’s foot, floated to the surface of the ocean, and begun its journey, bobbing in currents and winds and storms until it ended up on the beach in Tsawwassen.
The ERT guys had taken off earlier in a chopper with Kaganov in cuffs after the paramedics had flown in to treat him. Crime scene techs were now present and were combing through the lodge. RCMP detectives had also come in via helicopter and were questioning guests, who’d been corralled in another area of the lodge. The old woman in black had been taken away crying. She, too, would be interrogated. A massive forensics dive operation would soon commence at the old fish pens site. If there were remains down there, the team would eventually find them. Police were currently trying to locate Ivanski Polzim and Sasha Makeev. Now that they had names, warrants had been put out for their arrests, and it hopefully wouldn’t be long before they were taken into custody. The DNA profile of one of them would likely match the blood of the 1993 cop killer as well as the DNA from the second semen stain on Anastazja Kowalski’s purple sweater. The ballistics evidence from the drug bust shoot-out would now be examined in conjunction with the ballistics from the 1986 cradle case. Polzim and Makeev were also key persons of interest in the Squamish arson that had killed Stirling and Elaine Harrison. They were all finally going to go down.
As the paramedic exited the living room, Angie said to Maddocks, “Guess I’ll have to go back and face the music myself now.”
He smiled, and it lit up his blue eyes like the clear, sunny sky outside. A pang went through Angie’s heart. Love. It was love, she thought. What else could it be? For this man who continued to save her in so many ways. He had not given up on her when she was so broken that she’d tried to destroy everything good around her. Including him. And what they’d shared.
“Yeah, I’ll need to face the shit, too,” he said, “after splitting in the middle of the Club Orange B bust and taking off after you. But I’ve had a few words with Takumi on the phone. I have a feeling he’s going to want take all the glory himself for leading an international human trafficking op that cut off the head of the North American arm of the so-called Red Octopus.”
Angie’s thoughts shifted to the octopus she’d seen in Anders’s underwater footage, and a small shiver went through her.
“Nailing Kaganov,” Maddocks said, “is also going to send fissures, potentially fatal ones, all the way up through the Prague operation. My gut says Takumi is not going to pursue the fact that I went rogue there for a while, because if I hadn’t, this would not have turned out to his benefit like this. RCMP probably won’t want to proceed with any charges against you, either.”
“I can only hope.”
He held his hand out to help her up from her seat. “Let’s cross our fingers, then, shall we?”
She managed a smile, but it hurt her face. She clasped his hand and came to her feet. “And engage good lawyers, I suppose.”
“That too. You ready to go home?”
“I need to visit that cedar grove one more time first.”
“You sure?”
“Dead sure.” She hesitated, feeling a little silly, but she said what was on her mind anyway. “That’s where they are, Maddocks. My mom and Mila. Not their bodies but their spirits—in the wind that drifts through those ancient trees. I feel as though their voices reach me there. It’s from that place that they called me back to find the answers. From that bay that Mila’s foot floated south, setting everything in motion. I need to go and say goodbye.”
Yellow afternoon sunshine dappled down through the tall cedars as Angie and Maddocks slowly walked hand in hand through the soft, long grass and over the springy moss of the dell. Angie stopped and inhaled the sense of the place once more. Wind rustled, and she felt them—Mila and her mother. Tears filled her eyes.
“It really is beautiful,” Maddocks said, sliding his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. Small birds darted through the boughs. It was not the season for blackberries or dandelions, but the berries and flowers were here, beneath the winter earth, pushing up and getting ready to burst forth in the spring and then fall.
“I want that photo of Ana when the techs are done with everything,” Angie said.
He nodded. “I told them
you’d want it.”
“She was so young. She didn’t abandon me, Maddocks. She was trying desperately to save us both. I can’t tell you how much that means.”
They stood in silence for a moment. Just the two of them. The sensation of the old-growth trees surrounding them like ancient sentient beings was humbling. The sound of the whispering wind through their boughs was haunting, spiritual, a murmur of voices in a language not understood by mere mortals. These trees would have been tiny saplings when the construction of the Notre Dame cathedral had commenced, and the mood beneath them was no less reverent.
“If we do find Mila and my mother’s remains,” Angie said softly, “if the divers manage to bring them up, this is where I will bury them. Lay them to rest. In this cathedral of trees. I did once feel happy here. I—” She swallowed as her throat tightened with emotion. “Maybe I’ll return to this island from time to time to just sit with them. To pick the berries and dandelions.”
“Only if I come with you.”
She glanced up into his deep-blue eyes that had so mesmerized her when she’d first seen him at the Foxy. The look in his features made her heart swell with a warmth, a poignancy that both scared and excited her. “Maybe,” she said softly, “we can use that birthday present you gave me. I mean, when things finally wrap up.”
His eyes changed. His features tightened. “You mean the voucher? The one for the wilderness lodge? Just you and me, far away?”
She smiled. “Well, seeing as I don’t have a job or anything.”
His eyes glistened. He swallowed, reached up, and touched his palm gently, so gently, to the side of her face.
“Marry me, Angie,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Marry me.”
Her brain spun. “You … you mean, be your … wife?”
“That’s generally what getting married means, Angie Pallorino. I don’t ever want to lose you. I came too close. When I thought …” His voice hitched as emotion strangled his words.
Angie stared up into those eyes, incredulous. Yet not. Terrified, yet thinking maybe … just maybe this was everything she wanted. A chance—a second chance to make things work in her life.
Wind gusted suddenly through the ancient cedars like the breath of giant sleeping dragons being roused. Goose bumps rippled over her skin. She opened her mouth to speak, but he touched his finger to her lips.
“Don’t. Don’t say a word right now. I just want you to think about it.”
EPILOGUE
TWO WEEKS LATER
As the seaplane came in to land on the waters of Victoria’s Inner Harbour, Angie could see Holgersen with Jack-O standing at the dock below. She placed her hand on Maddocks’s thigh in the seat beside hers. “Look, down there,” she said as she pointed. “Cavalry is here.”
Maddocks leaned over her to peer out the window and laughed. “Motley crew is more like it. The deviants.”
The pilot banked the plane, came around with the wind, and touched skids to water with a hard bump. They taxied toward the terminal over the choppy surface. It felt good to finally be home after all the debriefings and interrogations and legal meetings with various attorneys. She and Maddocks had been holed up in a Vancouver hotel for the duration, and Angie was more than ready for home. There would be additional questions down the road, followed by legal proceedings, witness statements, and more, but for now Angie and Maddocks were free to go.
They disembarked from the seaplane, gathered their bags, and walked down the dock to where Holgersen shifted from foot to foot, holding Jack-O’s leash. It was sunny, the sea breeze fresh. Gulls squawked above them.
Holgersen raised his hand in a salute.
Angie returned his greeting with a wave. “Didn’t think I’d ever be happy to see that oddball,” she said as Maddocks escorted her along the dock, his hand placed gently at the small of her back.
Holgersen had phoned to let Angie know what Harvey Leo had done—how the veteran detective claimed to have come upon her private meeting with Pietrikowski and Tranquada, and how he’d relayed the information to Grablowski. Angie doubted Leo had just happened to be in the observation room. It was more likely that he’d seen her entering the interview room with the Mountie and IDRU woman, and he’d followed her out of malignant curiosity. She’d bet her ass that he’d turned on the audio feed to listen in. But she’d decided to let it be for now—to let Grablowski write his damn book. But she wouldn’t cooperate with him, and she’d refused to take any reporters’ calls. Her past was done now. They could make of it what they would. She was going to look only forward from this point on.
“Yo! Boss,” Holgersen called as they neared. He dropped Jack-O’s lead.
Maddocks set his bag down, crouched low, and whistled, holding his arms open wide. “Heya, boy, come here!”
The animal hobbled wildly over to Maddocks on his three legs, mouth open as he panted in excitement. Maddocks scooped him up, ruffed his little head. The pooch squiggled in his arms with glee. It made Angie’s heart crunch. She looked away briefly to hide her emotion. It was so close to the surface still. She’d allowed herself to begin to feel, and what was being released from her heart knew no bounds yet. It was as though she’d opened a dam that had been building since she was a child.
Yes, I think I do love this big, tough, and gentle cop. Love him with all my heart.
He glanced at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Wind is making my nose run.”
He cocked a brow, set Jack-O back down, picked up his bag, and took her hand.
Holgersen came up and bear hugged Maddocks, slapping him hard on the back. Then he turned to hug Angie, but he stopped short of touching her, looking awkward instead.
“Hey,” she said, setting down her own bag. She stepped forward and gave the weirdo a hug. It was a first for Angie, but damn, it did feel good once she’d done it. She stepped back, and Holgersen sniffed and rubbed his stubbled jaw. “Good to see yous, Pallorino.”
“Yeah, you too.”
“Vee-hickle is this way.” He scooped up Jack-O as he spoke. “Thought I’d give you guys a ride.”
They walked with Holgersen to where he’d parked.
“So all them new girls that came off that ship is going to be okay?” he said.
“As okay as they can ever be,” Maddocks said. “They’ll go home, be returned to their families. If Kaganov goes for a plea, Takumi’s bunch could use his testimony to nail the Montreal club and the one down in Vegas, plus the one in New York. From there international law enforcement can start working on the Prague bunch. Going to be a long process, but it’s gathering its own steam now.”
As they walked along the harbor front, a yellow sea taxi chugged by. Colors in the harbor seemed crisp, bright, the air clear. Gulls swirled and squawked above as a young boy dangled a fishing line over the edge of the wall. The Empress Hotel across from the waterfront gleamed like a welcoming grand old lady. Angie felt as if a veil had come off winter—and her world. It was as though she was seeing—properly seeing—things for the first time in full focus. In all kinds of complex beauty. Yes, there was sadness in her soul. But also hope. This, she thought, is what it feels to be properly human, whole.
She’d found out who she was—where she’d come from.
To do it, she’d had to go all the way back to the beginning, look into the eyes of a monster, and rather than kill him, she’d managed to conquer her rage demon. She’d gotten rid of the ghosts that had resided down in the basement of her subconscious.
“So I hear them bones they’s been finding down there under Kaganov’s old fish pens has gone to be tested for DNA. Several bodies so far, I hear.” He shot a glance at Angie. “Including a little one.”
She nodded. “All found in an undersea area north of the pens, actually. They’d been washed gradually by a cold current into a deep gulley filled with sediment. It’s going to be a complex and protracted operation to properly search the seabed down there and then to try to identify
all the remains.”
“Those salmon that Kaganov used to farm in that area—they were sent to market all those years ago after they’d been eating human flesh?”
She shrugged. “Probably.”
“I s’pose it’s like that pig farmer, Pickton, eh? Him feeding human meat to his swine before selling them for bacon. People eating that bacon not knowing it was made of bits of missing women.” Holgersen stopped beside his vehicle, beeped the lock. “That was one massive forensics operation out at the pig farm, too. And all them Hells Angels ties to him as well. Guess it’ll be some times before they turn over any of the remains from the fish pen, eh?”
“Yeah,” Angie said. “And then families can finally lay loved ones to rest.”
Holgersen held her eyes a moment, then popped open the trunk. Maddocks took their bags around to the rear of the vehicle and loaded them in while Holgersen opened the driver’s side door. Holgersen stood with his hand on the top of the door. “And that Kaganov’s mother—she knew everything?”
“Yep,” Angie said. “She’s cooperating with investigators. Kaganov’s wife apparently knew, too. Semyon Zagorsky’s wife and daughter also had some idea.”
“Holy. They sure keeps it all in the family with that brotherhood-code-of-thieves or whatever. From them gulag days in Siberia.”
“Kaganov provided their livelihoods,” Maddocks said, coming around and opening the front passenger side door for Angie. “He kept them safe, and he kept them all terrified. He’s a controlling narcissist. They knew exactly what he was capable of.”
Angie inhaled deeply at the thought of what her father was. She shared his genes. But she also shared her mother’s. And her grandfather’s. Danek Kowalski was apparently a political hero of his time. Which made Angie at least half good. Just because her dad was a monster did not mean she was one.
“I can sit in the back,” she said quietly to Maddocks.
He tilted his head. “Go on, get in.”
The Lullaby Girl (Angie Pallorino Book 2) Page 33