by Stacia Wolf
Irina's chin lifted, and for the first time Cassie saw a glimpse of strength that must have been core in her personality before the loss of her husband. “No, I will not run,” she said. “This is my home. Is it not?” Cassie nodded. “My husband and I were married for five years. I worked until I became pregnant. Much of my money went into our home. It is as much mine as anyone's. I will not run."
Cassie squeezed her hand. “That's a great attitude, but you have your son to think of as well. Until we know it's safe, you should probably go to a shelter for endangered women. He won't be able to find you there, since they keep the location secret. I'll make sure nothing happens to your house."
Irina's head slumped in defeat, but she nodded. “I cannot go to a hotel this time?"
Cassie shook her head. “Last time, he wasn't threatening you. This time, he is. The place I want to send you has a security guard. You'll be safer there, okay?” Irina nodded again, her eyes sad. Cassie gave her hand another squeeze, then slid out of her chair and crossed to Mike.
He held an arm out to her, and she slipped up against him, soaking in his strength. She felt him press a kiss to her hair, and she smiled up at him.
"She okay?” he asked.
Cassie nodded, sadness touching her. “Yes, she's a lot stronger than she looks. I think I've talked her into going to a shelter. Right now, though, I'm going to take her to get a cell phone. That's the first step."
Mike's smile seemed grim. “Sad world we live in that there has to be a program to give out phones to victimized women."
Cassie raised her brows. “You're right, but at least this society cares enough to provide such a program. Most of it's funded by donations."
Mike pulled her tighter. “I know. I don't like you involved in this, though. I have a bad feeling."
Cassie rolled her eyes. She'd already heard this several times today. “I'll be fine. I can handle myself."
"I know, but that doesn't stop me from worrying. Listen, I need to get to the club. Ernie and I are making a last-ditch proposal to the city planning office, to see if we can get that zoning change."
She studied his face, and saw the worry in his eyes. “It's not going good?"
He gazed out the window. Hiding his feelings, she realized. His distancing himself from her disturbed her; it felt as if he were trying to hide something. “It'll be fine,” he finally said. “If this site doesn't work, we'll find another."
Cassie knew from her days in business law that it was a much bigger deal than what he made it out to be. Time and expense went into research and developing any potential site. She almost offered to help him—the Delistraty name often opened shut doors—but vivid memories of Ken telling her that he only married her for her name rushed through her. No, she wouldn't start down that road again. Let Mike love her for her, not for her family legacy.
So she bit her lip and returned his smile, hoping that he'd be right, that everything would work out for the best.
But if it didn't, would she forgive herself for not helping him? And if she did step in, would she always wonder if he stayed with her out of desire for her, or for her name?
"I'm going to take them downtown and get the phone and shelter set up. Tell Ernie hi, and let me know how it goes."
Her heart thrilled when he pulled her tightly against him and pressed one hot, savage kiss to her mouth. “I will. And promise me something."
His warm kiss filled her with happiness, but the seriousness in his eyes chilled her. “What's that?"
"Don't go to that house alone. You don't know what this guy's capable of."
His frown gave his request more weight. Cassie couldn't think of a reason why she'd go there, so she nodded. “No problem."
* * * *
"I don't know why I keep having to repeat myself,” the cranky woman at the police station said. “But it's going to be at least an hour before an officer can escort Mrs. Richter to her home to gather her belongings."
They'd gone to the woman's resource center, who'd helped Irina with a shelter for endangered women, some food vouchers, a cell phone and had even set her up with counseling. The only thing they'd not provided her with was an escort to help her pack. Their one and only resource officer had called in sick, so they'd referred her to the police, urging her not to go home unless escorted.
Cass matched the cranky woman's attitude tone for tone. “You have to repeat yourself because you've been saying the exact same thing for the last three hours. So once again, can you tell me exactly how long it'll take for an officer to go with us?"
The woman's mouth tightened to a thin line, and her pointy face turned to the computer screen. “Like I said, it's going to be—"
"At least an hour. Yes, I think I got it.” Pushing herself up and away from the extremely unhelpful help desk, Cassie searched out Irina, and found her walking up and down with an irritated Andy. The woman took one look at Cassie's face, and her welcoming smile faded.
"Not yet?"
Shaking her head, Cassie smiled grimly. “No, and I don't see us getting bumped up to the top of their priority list."
Irina nodded. “I talked to an officer and he says that many of them are directing traffic at a Mariners game."
Cassie groaned. “I'd forgotten about that. We could be here for a while. I could call Cal again.” Once again, her brother wasn't answering his phone.
Irina shook her head. “This is so...how do you say? Asinine. We are two grown women, and he is behind bars, is he not? Why can we not go?"
Cassie glanced around, hoping an officer would come to her rescue. She'd promised Mike, but all this waiting was stupid, and poor Andy showed every sign of starting a major meltdown any moment. How much longer could he last?
"Do we know when he will be released?” Irina asked. Stan Richter had been found a couple of hours ago in Irina's house. They'd been told that he would be having a bail hearing soon.
Cassie shook her head. “I asked earlier. They wouldn't give me any information. Just that he'd be processed in the next few hours.” She hesitated, then dove in. “I'll be honest with you. If we go over there, he could show up. But I don't think he'd really do anything too stupid, and we both have cell phones. But sometimes desperate people do crazy things."
Andy started to cough, and Irina thumped his back. “His cough, it is getting bad again. I forgot his medicine at the house."
"Medicine?” Cassie's brows arched in surprise. “You didn't tell me he was sick."
Irina nodded. “Yes, he has...what is the word? Ear defection. He is taking pink stuff."
Cassie smiled. “Ear infection?"
Irina nodded. “Yes, he has ear infection, and he needs to take medicine. Plus baby Tylenol, for the pain. I left it at home.” She rocked Andy, who, as if trying to emphasize his mother's statement, tugged at one ear.
Cass watched the distressed baby with a growing sense of doom. If she waited, Andy would get worse. They could try to get more medication, but that would be another delay. The house was twenty minutes away, tops. They could go there, swoop in, grab what they needed and be at the shelter within the hour.
Stupid Mariners. Actually, Cassie loved a good game, but right now she'd love a police escort more.
She tried Cal's number, but once again it went directly to voice mail. Either he had no signal or he'd shut it off again. She'd called Mike as well, with the same results.
She heaved in a deep sigh. “Okay, fine. Let's just do this. In and out, ten minutes, and we go back for the rest of your stuff when we have a proper escort."
Irina nodded.
* * * *
In the bright sunlight, Irina's tiny home, with its vibrant rose beds and cheery annuals, didn't seem very threatening. Cassie pulled the T-bird up front and killed the engine. “I don't have a lot of room in this car, especially with the other car seat,” Cassie said. The woman's resource center had loaned them one until Irina retrieved her own. “So let's grab necessities—medicines, clothing, toothbrushes, some
favorite toys, things like that."
Irina nodded. She'd grown up in a war zone, Cassie had learned, so quick exits must have been common. She didn't like the haunted look in the other woman's eyes, though. Smiling to reassure her, she hopped out of the car.
"Let's go do this."
Entering the house, Cassie stopped, shocked. “Irina, what happened in here? It looks like you have demolition going on.” There were two gaping holes in the drywall, a spot where the carpet was pulled up, and the ceiling sported a large hole as well. Drywall dust covered the room and chunks lay scattered across sofa cushions tossed on the floor.
Irina's mouth tightened. “The hole in the ceiling was not there this morning. The carpet, it was fine this morning, now look! The other holes were there when we moved back in. I do not know why."
Cassie eyed the damage. “Looks to me like he's looking for something.” She stepped over some drywall and picked up a sofa cushion, tossing it on the couch. “What a mess."
"I do not know what he would be looking for.” Placing Andy in his playpen, Irina glanced up the stairs. “I will go pack clothes. There is formula and bottles in the kitchen. Plus some baby food."
"I'll grab them.” Cassie entered the kitchen to find dry goods tossed over the counter and on the floor. Drawers were pulled out and cupboards left open. The fridge stood open as well. Shutting it, Cassie surveyed the mess with disgust. More of Stan Richter's handiwork, she figured. When his wife and son had died in that car accident, he must have slipped a few cogs.
Her cell began to chirp. Fishing it out of her purse, she glanced at the display. Her stomach knotted. Mike. His meeting must be over. And here she stood in Irina's house, having broken her promise. Now she'd have to hide her whereabouts from the man she loved. Or not answer it.
No, then he'd worry and come looking for her.
Man, this really sucked.
Answering the phone, she said, “Hi, Mike. Meeting all done?” Darn, she sounded too chirpy.
"Yes,” he said, his tone clipped.
"Is everything okay?"
"Better than I expected, but we'll talk about it later. Where are you?” No, he didn't sound happy at all.
Trying to lighten the mood, she said, “Are you in a hurry, big guy?"
She didn't even hear a chuckle. “No, just worried about you. I don't like this situation with Irina. I have a bad feeling."
"Well, we had to wait for the police to escort us to Irina's house, and we're on our way to the shelter.” That's not exactly a lie, she told herself.
"Great. So what do you think, about another hour? I'm thinking that tonight would be a great movie and take-out night, before we head to the club."
"Cassie, he tore apart my bedroom. He even cut my mattress.” Irina rushed into the kitchen, carrying Andy. Stumbling over some jars of food, she grabbed Cassie's arm for balance.
"Cass?” Mike's voice barked in her ear. “You're at her house now, aren't you? And why do I have the feeling that there's no cop with you?"
Heart hammering as she took in Mike's anger and Irina's distress, Cassie played her one lame card. “You said alone, Mike. I'm not alone. Irina's with me."
"Damn it, Cass, you know what I meant. Either with me or the police. She's no protection."
"As far as I know, he's still being processed. We're fine. Please don't overreact."
"I'm not overreacting. Get out of there, and we'll go back later and get their stuff."
Glancing out the window, Cassie wondered how it could look so serene outside and be so chaotic in here. “We're almost done. We'll be leaving in a few minutes."
Mike's anger seeped into his voice. “No, get out now. Damn it, I can't believe you did this. You never had any intention of keeping your word to me, did you? We've barely begun this relationship and you've already started lying."
Dread sank into her gut like a rock. “Mike, please don't overreact. I—"
"Cass.” Irina crushed her upper arm in a painful grip. Twisting around, her heart stopped.
A gun pointed in her direction. Stan Richter held it chest high, his beefy hand shaking. His voice however, sounded cold and calm. “Get off the phone, lady. It's time we settled this. Once and for all."
* * * *
"Damn her.” Mike stepped on the gas as his heart raced out of control. He held his cell phone to his ear while he navigated traffic one-handed. Cassie hadn't turned hers off, instead slipping it somewhere, in a pocket or her purse, where Mike could listen in. He could hear bits and pieces of the conversation. He'd called the police from the bar phone, but he didn't know if they'd get there soon enough to help the two women and the little boy. Luckily, Irina was listed in the phone book and the address was only a couple of miles away. He didn't know what he could do, but he had to try to save Cassie.
He couldn't believe she'd lied to him. Especially about something so dangerous. Didn't she have any common sense? Did she value the truth and their relationship so little that she'd lie to him to get her own way?
It smacked of Sharon and their relationship. She'd lied all the time to him. Her outings with friends, shopping, movies with her mother. All turned out to be cover-ups for her dates with other men. Mike couldn't stomach another relationship like that.
"Tell me what you want, Mr. Richter.” Cass sounded calm and in control. Good. If she showed fear, that could rile the man. Even in his anger, Mike admired her for keeping her head.
Keep him talking, Cass. I'm coming as fast as I can.
* * * *
"Tell me what you want, Mr. Richter. You're looking for something. Walls torn up, floors damaged. What do you think it is that Irina has?"
Cass stood facing the man, Irina and Andy tucked behind her, between Cassie and the counter. Stay calm, Cassie. Keep your face impartial and unemotional. Don't let him see you're afraid.
Stan Richter's face reddened. The gun wavered in his hand, a clear sign of his unfamiliarity with the weapon. Cassie's heartbeat accelerated. Please, don't panic and start shooting.
"What is it, Stan? Did you leave something in here when you sold the house to your son? Something you want back?"
His hand shook even more. She must have hit a nerve. Cassie pressed Irina further behind her, felt the baby kick her back.
"It's mine. My wife's gone. Anything that belonged to her belongs to me now. She had no right to give it to my son, and he had no right to leave it to her.” He almost spat the last word; Cassie felt Irina tense.
"What's yours, Stan? What is it you think Irina has?"
"I know she has it. My wife told me she'd given it to the boy, and when I told him I wanted it back, he said it's for the brat. Hell, I doubt that baby's even his."
Irina's breath sucked in harshly. Cassie didn't have to look at her to know she bristled with outrage. “So this thing—this is what it's all about? Your kicking her out of the house, your tearing the place up, even the threats? It's all to get back this whatever it is?"
"A coin collection.” Stan's mouth tightened. “My father-in-law left it to my wife. It should be half mine, but she wouldn't let me around it. She was afraid...” He stopped abruptly, glancing away from Cassie. Ashamed, perhaps?
"He gambles,” Irina said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He doesn't know when to stop."
"Shut up!” Stan yelled. His panic hung over all of them like a thick fog. “How did I get into this? All I want is that damned coin collection. It's mine, I deserve it. Not her."
"Coin collection? You mean that box of old coins? This is all over that?” Irina stepped out from behind Cassie before she could stop her. “That's what you're after? You put us through all of this for those?” Her laugh sounded bitter. “They're not here. They are at the bank. Eric put them there right after his mother gave them to us."
"Coins?” Cassie stared at Irina. “What kind of coins are we talking about?"
Irina shrugged as she shifted Andy to her other hip. “I do not know. Andy tried to explain it to me, but I do not underst
and United States money very well. There were many coins, in little containers, and in many coin books. Some coins are gold, some are silver, most are old. Many of them are gold with a lady on them, twenty dollars each."
Gold coins? Cassie tightened her gaze on Stan. “Liberty head golds? Twenty dollar pieces? Is that what we're talking about?"
He sneered. “There are some, if I remember right.” Under her unbending stare, he added, “Probably a hundred."
Worth about a grand each, and if in decent condition, thousands more, if she remembered right from her grandfather's discussions about his collection. After politics and trying to control his family, coins were his greatest obsession. “That's only some of the coins? What are the rest?"
"Rolls of Morgan dollars, some Peace dollars, some others.” He smirked. “Addie's parents collected them for years, then she added to it. But she wouldn't let me around it, said it was for our son.” His laugh sounded hollow. “Fat lot it'll do him now.” He waved the gun barrel toward Irina. “What is someone like her going to do with all that money?"
All that money. If that box held as much as she thought it did, they were talking about at least a quarter of a million dollars, if not more. “Stan, we can talk about the coins and who they belong to later. Right now, we need to figure out how to get you to put that gun down."
"Those coins are mine!” He waved the gun in the air; his eyes widened as his voice grew louder. “We're going to go get them. Now.” He pointed the gun toward the front door. “You're going to get the coins for me, Irina, or I'll hurt the baby. And your bitch lawyer here. Now move."
Irina started toward the door, retrieving her purse on the way. As Cassie passed him, he wrapped his arm about her throat. “I know you were talking to someone on the phone. If the cops show up, you're my shield. And don't try any crap or I'll shoot Irina in the back."