Her Rocky Mountain Hero (Rocky Mountain Justice Book 1)

by Jennifer D. Bokal

  There was something different about Cody Samuels. His physicality, his strength of character, his determination, courage...and yes, his gorgeous eyes and nice butt added to the allure.

  “My house is close,” he said. “Less than a mile now.”

  Viktoria was so lost in her thoughts that she had hardly noticed the drive. Although once Cody spoke, she looked out the window and immediately recognized the area from her trip into town. They drove through a narrow canyon of craggy black rocks that eventually led to the town of Telluride. As the canyon opened, brown roadside signs announced directions to the various parts of the ski area. A dozen or so shops that both rented and sold skis and snowboards lined the road. White Christmas lights circled each window and illuminated the displays of jackets, hats and ski pants that were sold there, as well.

  Cody took a left-hand turn and the Range Rover skidded, heading for a small pine tree. He expertly righted the vehicle and they drove another quarter of a mile before he pointed out the window. “That’s it,” he said, “right up there.”

  A blue cottage with red trim came into view. Snow stood halfway up the railing that surrounded the porch. A front light glowed golden through the ever-falling flakes. Next to the cottage sat a detached garage with the same paint scheme.

  “It’s perfect,” Viktoria breathed. “Magical, almost.”

  “Well.” Cody moved closer. “It’s home.” He eased the car into the drive.

  Home. Viktoria envied Cody for having a place to which he could return, no matter how far he wandered. Would she ever again have a place to call her own?

  Their hands had shifted during the drive, now resting next to each other on the console. Flesh pressed against flesh. Viktoria expected Cody to withdraw. Instead, he twined his pinky with hers and leaned toward her. His breath warmed her neck and yet gooseflesh gathered on her arms.

  “You smell nice,” he said. “Like the snow.”

  His words took her breath away. Viktoria leaned closer. She wanted him to kiss her. To grab her and pull her to him and take control.

  He stroked the side of her cheek and his thumb trailed to her lip. “I think we have some business from the woods to continue.”

  “What business is that?” she whispered.

  “Something about a kiss.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I was hoping that you remembered.”

  Cody placed his mouth on hers and a groan of longing escaped her throat.

  “Mommy?” Gregory’s sleepy voice came from the back seat.

  Viktoria moved away from Cody. Pressing her back into the seat, she gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, Captain Kiddo?”

  “I need to go potty.”

  Cody turned off the vehicle and opened his door. Pocketing the keys, he said, “I can show you where the bathroom is, Gregory.” He moved to the back of the Range Rover and opened the door. “Hold my neck. The snow’s pretty deep and we don’t want to get your pajamas wet and cold.”

  Viktoria followed the duo after retrieving the laptop and closing all the Range Rover’s doors. Gregory rested his head on Cody’s shoulder. As Viktoria watched Cody Samuels with her son, she added compassionate to the growing list of qualities to admire.

  Gregory lifted his head from Cody’s shoulders. Her son placed his little hands on each side of Cody’s face. “You saved me from those bad men, didn’t you?”

  “I helped a little, but your Mommy did most of the saving,” said Cody.

  “Yes, but she’s my mommy and she always keeps me safe. Since you helped and you didn’t have to it makes you a hero.” Gregory pressed his forehead into Cody’s so the two were eye to eye. “You are my hero.”

  “Thanks, Gregory,” Cody said.

  His voice was slower, deeper, too, and Viktoria swore that she heard a hitch of emotion in his words.

  Cody scooted Gregory to his hip, removed his key from a pocket in his pants and opened the front door. He set Gregory on the floor and flipped a wall switch that turned on a tableside lamp. “The bathroom is that door over there,” said Cody as he pointed to the left.

  Gregory rushed for the room indicated and shut the door with a loud thump. It was then that Viktoria looked around the cottage. The bottom floor was a single room that encompassed a kitchen, dining area and living room.

  Cody’s taste in decorating had a definite southwestern influence. While most of the walls were covered in vertical planks of stained pine, one wall was stone, with a large fireplace in the middle. A large TV was mounted over the mantel; an image of the room was reflected in its flat screen. A wooden banister wound to the second story. The coffee table was made of a sanded and veneered tree stump. The sofa and loveseat were both upholstered with Native American–inspired fabric in tones of blue and orange. A recliner of coordinating blue leather had a cowhide draped over the back.

  But it was the ceiling that caught her attention. Squares of ornately pressed tin sat above her head. The one directly above the door showed a picture of a chubby baby Cupid, complete with bow and arrow. For the first time, Viktoria wondered about Cody’s love life.

  In one part of her brain she had assumed that he lived in a cluttered bachelor pad with mismatched hand-me-down furniture. But to her, this house didn’t reflect the sensibilities of a single guy. Instead it spoke of security. Closeness. Romantic evenings before the fire. If he was in a relationship she should be irate that he’d kissed her with such passion earlier. Although if he was taken, she’d be more disappointed than anything.

  Viktoria ran her hand over the cool cinnamon-colored marble of the kitchen counter. “Your home is lovely,” she said. “Who did your decorating?”

  Cody gave a noncommittal shrug. “Most of the furniture was here when I bought the place.”

  The need to know if he had been available to kiss her in the woods—and might be again—gnawed at Viktoria. She searched the walls, looking for pictures of Cody and another woman. There were none. In fact, the only personal photo was on the refrigerator. It was a Christmas card from a family of four.

  “All the furniture?”

  “RMJ pays me better than the DEA. I needed a way to spend my money after landing this gig. My territory is the southern part of the state, and a ski place in Telluride sounded good. I bought the place decorated and then went to a local art dealer for some Navajo pieces.”

  “Oh,” she said, suddenly tired. In Viktoria’s estimation, men never went to art dealers unless a woman told them to go, and she should know. Before Gregory was born, Viktoria had worked at a Manhattan art gallery. A good bit of business came from society girlfriends hoping to make the house of their investment-banker boyfriends into a home for them both. “And your girlfriend,” Viktoria said, trying to be professional or at least not emotional, “does she like the art you bought?”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend,” Cody said.

  Viktoria stood up straighter. “You don’t?” Good god. She just gushed, hadn’t she?

  “If I had a girlfriend,” he said as he came to stand beside her, face-to-face. Viktoria’s mouth went dry and her palms grew damp. “I wouldn’t have kissed you.”

  Her eyes were drawn to his mouth and the words that he formed. She brushed her thumb over his bottom lip. “Even if the kiss was just for luck?”

  “Just? There was nothing as simple as a just in that kiss.”

  Cody’s hand slipped around her waist. Viktoria allowed him to pull her closer. Heat collected between their bodies.

  From the bathroom came the unmistakable sound of a toilet flushing.

  “Gregory,” said Viktoria, taking a step back.

  “Gregory,” said Cody. His hands dropped from her waist. “He’s quite a kid. You ought to be proud of yourself. You’re a heck of a mom and good moms are hard to find.”

  Heat crept up Viktoria’s face as pride sw
elled in her chest. The bathroom door opened and Gregory stepped out. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes.

  “Are you ready for bed, Gregory?” Cody asked. “I have a special place for you upstairs. It’s right below the peaked roof, so the ceiling is slanted. Very cool.”

  “Very cool,” said Gregory, his eyes bright. Then his tiny brow creased. “Hey, Mom, how come Cody doesn’t have a Christmas tree?” Gregory asked.

  “Since it’s just me here I didn’t much feel like decorating,” said Cody, answering the question for her.

  “That’s sad,” said Gregory.

  It was. And yet there was no need to make Cody feel worse. “Gregory,” she said, as she lifted a single eyebrow and gave him the mom look. “Stop asking Cody private questions.”

  “But Mommy,” he whined. “I think it’s sad and I don’t want Cody to be sad, especially at Christmas.”

  “And I think that we’ve had a long day and you should get ready for bed.”

  “You’ll sleep with me, Mommy? Right? Just in case those bad men come back?”

  “You’re safe here,” said Viktoria. “But of course I’ll sleep with you.” Truth to tell, Viktoria probably needed the reassurance of her son’s presence more than he needed her. “You go upstairs and I’ll be right behind you.”

  She waited while Gregory shuffled across the floor and up the stairs.

  “I cannot thank you enough,” she said and stopped. She searched for the right words to express her deep gratitude and found none.

  Cody hitched his thumb to a phone that sat on the counter. “I’m going to check in with my boss at RMJ. He’ll need to start making phone calls to the Department of Justice regarding Peter Belkin and his crew.”

  “Good night, then.” Viktoria walked to the stairs.

  “Do you need anything?” Cody asked. “Clean sweats? A T-shirt?”

  Viktoria opened Cody’s coat to reveal the fleece pants and long-sleeved tee she slept in. “I was in bed when we were attacked. So, I guess I’m ready.”

  “Then sleep well.”

  “Although, this is yours.” Viktoria slipped off the coat and held it out as she walked to Cody.

  “Thanks.”

  His fingers brushed hers as he took the jacket and Viktoria paused.

  “You’re welcome.” Viktoria turned to follow Gregory. Part of her had hoped Cody would kiss her again, yet she was fearful of the emotions and desires that came with that longing. Instead, she took her mixed feelings and went up the stairs to tuck her son into bed.

  * * *

  There were two things that Dimitri learned during his years in the Russian army. The first had to do with prostitutes in Saint Petersburg and was hardly applicable now. The second was that food and sleep were essential and should be taken whenever available.

  He woke, remembering quickly that he had fallen asleep in the driver’s seat of a car, parked in a garage of a home.

  After walking for more than an hour in the strengthening storm, Dimitri had stumbled upon a secluded residence. He’d broken into the attached garage and silently stolen the car key, conveniently placed on a hook by the door.

  The trusting nature of Americans always shocked and amused him. Not that he minded, but a Russian would never make their car so easy to steal.

  Not wanting to make too many suspicious noises at the same time, he’d decided to wait. It was then that he fell asleep.

  Dimitri scrubbed his face and then turned the ignition to power the battery. The clock on the dash glowed—3:04. Damn. Several hours gone. If he were going to get to Belkin, then Dimitri had to act now.

  Dealing with the car would be easy, as he could put it in Neutral and push it from the garage. But first he had to get the garage door lifted with an electric opener noisy enough to wake most anyone. The village where Dimitri grew up had few amenities. In fact, he hadn’t seen a color TV until joining the army. Yet, he’d learned and now knew that most garage doors had a safety release. He hoped that this one wouldn’t be an exception. He exited the car and climbed onto the roof, careful to be silent. As he’d anticipated, there was a handle that if pulled, disconnected the door from the opener.

  Dimitri lifted the door upward manually. The storm he left a few hours before was very different from the one that greeted him now. The predicted blizzard had hit the area full force, creating near-whiteout conditions. Still, Dimitri had information that Belkin needed. Luckily the snow was light and powdery; he’d still be able to move the car through it if he left without further delay. He returned to the auto. Sliding the gearshift to Neutral, Dimitri released the break and pushed the car straight back and into the night.

  * * *

  Cody listened to Viktoria’s footfalls as she trod down the hallway of the second floor. He strained to take in the muted conversation that passed between mother and son, but heard nothing beyond muffled voices.

  When Viktoria’s voice from upstairs went quiet, Cody picked up the phone. He dialed the home number for Ian Wallace, his boss at RMJ. At the first ring, Cody checked the time. The clock on the microwave read 3:07 a.m.

  The second ring came and Cody wandered to the kitchen. He filled a glass with tap water and sipped. True, it was an obscene hour to call, but if all that had happened that evening didn’t count as an emergency, Cody didn’t know what would. The third ring was followed by a fourth, and then his boss’s sleepy voice came over the line. “A bit early for a call, Samuels? Or rather late.”

  Cody set aside his glass and moved to the sofa. “There have been some complications with the Mateev case.”

  “How so?”

  For the next several minutes, Cody relayed the story. He didn’t leave out a single event—including his killing the thug to save Viktoria’s life. Cody knew that all his illegal activities had been justified and in the end, he would never face criminal charges. At the same time, he also knew that trying to hide any unpleasant truths was the best way to be implicated in wrongdoing.

  After a moment of silence, Ian exhaled. “One point of clarification. You never actually saw Peter Belkin at the scene of the kidnapping. You only found the boy in a home that you believe he rented?”

  Cody leaned back into the sofa. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead. “Both points are correct, but Sheriff Benjamin clearly stated that Peter Belkin both bribed and threatened him for information regarding Viktoria Mateev’s whereabouts. And the communication we intercepted from the abductors mentioned Belkin personally, as well.”

  “We can only hope that Sheriff Benjamin corroborates your story.”

  “I think he will when pressed.”

  “I’m going to contact someone I trust with the Colorado Bureau of Investigation. Attempted murder is state crime, so they’ll have jurisdiction. They might also retain control of the kidnapping case, since the child never left Colorado. Until this is sorted out, keep Viktoria and her son with you at all times.”

  “Right.”

  Cody gave Ian all the information on Belkin’s rental house.

  “Before ringing off,” said Ian, “I think it best that we only communicate through landlines. We don’t want to make it easy for Viktoria and her son to be found by tracking cell phone signals.”

  “Sure,” said Cody.

  “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be in contact later.”

  Cody paused, uneasy about ending the call without disclosing why he had been at the cabin in the first place. Yet, why had he been given the case? Was it truly a random coincidence, or was Ian also keeping secrets? “There’s one last thing. It’s about the Mateev family.”

  “Yes?”

  “You know the history of why I left the DEA. That I shot a CI and the gun was never found.” Cody paused. He’d shared all the details of tonight with the man, but as Cody’s boss, Ian was entitled to the facts. Could he also
share secrets from the past? “What I didn’t tell you was that the CI was helping me build a case against some major drug dealers. I was in the early stages of pulling together information when the shooting occurred, but he’d given me a crucial name.” Cody hesitated. “It was the same name that made me take the extra steps tonight.”

  Silence followed his confession. Cody listened to the wind howl as it sped down the mountain.

  “Her name is Viktoria Mateev. And the drug dealer I was after is Nikolai Mateev.”

  “And you think she’s related to Nikolai?”

  “I know she is—she’s his daughter-in-law.”

  “Is she involved with the family business?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then it seems as if you need to keep her close and see what you can learn.”

  Ian was right. And yet... “What do you know about that family?”

  More silence. More empty howls from the wind.

  “I’ve heard of the Mateevs before,” said Ian.

  “Not from me,” Cody said quickly. “Except for being let go after the shooting, all the information I just shared was classified and now I want full disclosure from you.”

  “I can’t tell you everything.”

  “Tell me how I fit into the picture. Did you know about the Mateev connection when you hired me?”

  Before he could ask another question, Ian spoke. “You were onto something while at the DEA, Cody. But this crime syndicate is huge. It’s a kraken and would have swallowed you whole—it almost got you killed. But together, we can take it down.”

  “Taking down the Mateev family is all I want,” said Cody, “But who is Nikolai to you?”

  “What I’m about to tell you is top secret, password protected. I was supposed to forget all this information when I left MI5, but I can’t.”

  “I know how to keep a secret,” Cody said.