In the Hush of the Night

by Raymond Benson

  Was this to be her fate forever? To be the plaything of this … beast? To her, this man was the devil incarnate.

  “I am so happy that The Bear sent you to me,” he had told her. “You are my therapy for the month.” She didn’t know what that meant, but it proved to her that the man was insane. He had said he was a soldier. That he had killed many people. Apparently, she was supposed to be impressed by this. All it did was reveal his sickness and depravity.

  It was even more disturbing when he said that his “friends” would have their turns later over the weekend.

  She’d been told back at the house in Chicago that her assignment was a “rental.” Surely that meant her ordeal here was temporary? She would eventually be sent back, right?

  Or would she never leave the woods alive?

  If God wasn’t able to kill her, Yana vowed to find a way out of this hell. For weeks, she had yearned for merely an opportunity to escape. Now she was so frantic and desperate to act that she knew she would kill them if she had the chance.

  30

  On Friday morning, Annie walked in to her cubicle and noticed the red light blinking on her phone. She set down her thermos and lunch and punched the buttons to listen to the message.

  “Um, hello, Special Agent Marino, this is Miranda Ward. I’m Jason Ward’s sister. You might remember that we met when I was with my brother at Starbucks a while back? I believe I told you then that I work in Indianapolis at Safe Haven, a not-for-profit that provides support and assistance for women and children who are victims of domestic abuse and other crimes. I’ve recently been put in charge of a new initiative that deals with human trafficking. Jason told me about your job with the FBI and I was wondering if we could talk. I’m going to be reaching out to the FBI field office here in Indiana, but I thought since there was a personal connection between you and my brother that perhaps I could start by talking to you. If you could find some time to get back to me, I’d love to have a chat.” She ended the message by giving out her phone number and email address.

  Annie was pleasantly flattered. After putting her lunch in the community refrigerator and checking her email, she dialed Miranda’s office.

  “Miranda Ward.”

  “Hi, Miranda, it’s Special Agent Annie Marino, FBI Chicago.”

  “Oh, hi! Gosh, thank you for calling!”

  “My pleasure. So your brother revealed classified information and gave you my phone number, did he?”

  “Oh dear, was he not supposed to?”

  Annie laughed. “I’m kidding. No problem at all if he did. Jason’s great, by the way. I couldn’t ask for a better coffee buddy.”

  “Yeah, well, for a younger brother, he’s not bad. Well, let’s get to it, shall we?”

  Annie spent the next fifteen minutes talking about the Civil Rights Division and specifically some of the Human Trafficking Squad’s efforts to combat the crimes. Miranda outlined what she had planned for her organization, and Annie gave her feedback. Once that business was completed, Annie said, “I look forward to seeing you again in person at Jason’s wedding, assuming I’ll be invited.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be invited. Jason says he really likes you. I look forward to seeing you again, too.”

  “I don’t think I’ve run into him much lately. He must be spending more time at his fiancée’s house.”

  “Well, this weekend he’s up in Michigan with Nat’s brother at their cabin in the woods. They’re doing some kind of macho male bonding thing.”

  “Oh, really? I didn’t think he got along too well with Trey Paley.”

  “You know Trey?”

  “I don’t. I’ve met his father, and I’ve met Nat.” She almost said that she’d been looking for Trey, but caught herself.

  “Well, he’s a piece of work. Between you and me, that guy has some problems. In fact, I’m a little worried about Jason being up there with Trey Paley and a bunch of alcohol and guns.”

  Annie thought about that. “I’m sure he’ll be all right. Jason’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Well, it was nice talking to you, Annie—may I call you Annie?”

  “Sure. Don’t hesitate to call again if you have any more questions.”

  When she hung up, Annie got a bad feeling. Jason was alone with Trey Paley. She dug out her cell phone and dialed Jason’s number. It went to voice mail, so she left a message for him to call her.

  Surely it wasn’t possible that Jason was involved. No way.

  Was it right to recognize the shadow of doubt that was instinctual? She had been trained to read people. It was absolutely appropriate for her to suspect him, she was just being thorough. Jason was an innocent soul, she knew it in her heart.

  It was that thought process that led her to—

  “Oh my God …”

  Jason was very possibly in danger.

  Could Makar Utkin be up there with them in Michigan as well? She didn’t believe he was “on vacation,” like she’d been told. He was probably in hiding, and what better place than a remote cabin in the woods? He was, after all, a close friend of Trey’s. She needed to talk to them both. Could she kill two birds with one stone? That prospect appealed to her, but there wasn’t much she could do sitting in Chicago. She pulled up Chief Daniel’s contact info and made the call.

  “Police department.”

  “Is Chief Daniel there?”

  “No, ma’am, he’s on vacation for a week. Can I help you?”

  She winced, having forgotten about that. “Captain Mike?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It’s FBI Special Agent Anne Marino.”

  Aside from part-time officers on call, Captain Mike Baines was all alone at the station.

  Annie drummed her fingers on the desk. “Listen, there’s a person of interest at the Paley cabin that I’d like to talk to. I think he’s there. I know Trey Paley is there, and another man by the name of Jason Ward.” She didn’t want to give it away that she knew Jason. “Is there any way you can find out if Makar Utkin is there? Do you know him?”

  “I know Mack. He’s a good friend of Trey’s. He’s been up at their cabin a few times.”

  “Do you know if he’s up there now?”

  “Well, Agent Marino, I don’t know. I didn’t even know Trey was there. It’s his property, he can come and go as he likes.”

  “I realize that. Just wondering if maybe you saw him in town, picking up supplies or something.”

  “No, ma’am, I ain’t seen him.”

  “Can you find out without, you know, tipping your hand that I’m interested in talking to him? If he’s there, I’ll drive up, and we can go visit the place. Maybe take another officer with us?”

  Mike Baines was silent for a moment, then he answered. “Yeah, I think I can sneak up there, like, and see what I can see. You going to be around later?”

  “You can reach me on my cell phone. Let me know, okay?”

  “I’ll try to get up there this afternoon and call you back.”

  “Thanks, Captain Mike.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Annie hung up. Captain Mike was a country bumpkin, but at least he was a law officer who knew the area. She got up from her desk and walked to SSA Gladden’s office. She knocked on the frame of the open door.

  “John?”

  “Good morning, Annie.” He was going over reports, not looking up at her.

  “I might have a chance to interview Makar Utkin and Trey Paley. I think they’re both up in Michigan at the Paley property. I’m waiting on a call-back from the police captain up in Lakeway. He’s going to let me know if they’re there. If they are, I think I’m going to drive up and talk to them. I’d have at least one or two officers for backup.”

  Gladden’s eyes went up to her. “I’ll let you be the judge on that. There’s no one out of Detroit that can do it?”

  “Agent Caruthers is still in the hospital. I don’t know who’s handling his workload. Look, it’s my case, sir, I
’d like to be on top of it.”

  Gladden shrugged, said “Fine,” and went back to his work.

  Annie returned to her cubicle and found an email from the Russian ALAT in her inbox.

  Agent Marino—

  St. Petersburg police raided the location of the buy-a-slave website servers. The storage unit was rented by a man named Eduard Volkov, who, on further investigation, was revealed to be a non-existent entity. However, security cameras on the street were examined, and guess who visited the storage facility in June?

  Our friend Fyodor Utkin!

  Computers were seized and are now being torn apart for evidence.

  Will be in touch.

  Colin

  Things were falling into place. She hadn’t heard back from Greg Paley, but that was probably a moot point now. Annie knew it was likely that his son was at the cabin in Michigan. Considering what she just learned about Fyodor Utkin—if his son Makar was involved with him—then Trey Paley could be implicated as well. Was Trey working for The Bear? Was he The Bear? If any of that were true, then there was nothing Greg Paley could do to stop the wheels of justice. His son was going down. Sometimes bad things happened to good families.

  She checked with Cyber and Financial to see if there was any news on their ends, but there was nothing she didn’t already know.

  Now she just had to wait to hear from Captain Mike.

  31

  Trey and Makar slept late on Friday due to the previous night’s consumption of alcohol. The cabin was quiet when Jason awoke around eight. The sofa had been surprisingly comfortable once he settled in to sleep. He must have been conked out when Trey returned to the cabin. Jason was usually a light sleeper, so he found it odd that someone coming through the front door didn’t wake him.

  He got up and dressed. Then he sat on the sofa in the common area and thought, Now what? He didn’t want to wake the other two, and there was no telling what kind of a mood Trey would be in. Jason figured since Trey wasn’t very nice when he was sober, he probably wouldn’t be very personable with a hangover.

  Although he would have liked to have prepared breakfast, Jason didn’t want to make any noise in the small kitchen area, and he questioned whether or not he had permission to scrounge around for food anyway. His curiosity got the better of him, and he moved quietly to the cabinets and opened the drawer. The ring of keys that Trey had taken the night before was back in place. He contemplated it for a moment, and shut the drawer. He decided to go outside. The cabin door was unlocked, and he stepped out into a crisp, bright morning.

  The smell of the air was the first thing that struck him. It was so fresh and clean, as if he’d just placed an oxygen mask over his mouth, especially after the foul tobacco-heavy stench of the cabin. The leaves in the trees rustled pleasantly with a light breeze. Birds chirped and insects cricked. Jason had never felt such an overwhelming sensation of nature than at that moment. No wonder people bought cabins in the woods. Even though getaways such as this held stereotypical reputations of a place where the boogeyman usually got you, there was something to be said about this location’s serenity and beauty.

  The ground around the cabin was damp but solid. The road back to the highway, however, was still muddy. Jason walked along the edge of the road in an attempt to limit the amount of mud he would pick up on his already caked shoes. It was a pleasant hike, the temperature being moderately cool. It took him twenty minutes to get to his car, and he found the blinkers still going. Jason turned off the hazard lights and tried starting the car. The engine kicked on, which was a good sign, but when he attempted to free the car from the sludge puddle, it was still no good. The rear tires continued to spin. He’d definitely need help pushing it out.

  This time he left the blinkers off. Jason walked back to the cabin along the opposite side of the road this time. He quietly opened the door and stuck his head inside. All was quiet; it appeared that the sleeping beauties weren’t up yet. It was about nine o’clock. Softly, Jason shut the door and continued to explore.

  First he went around the perimeter of the clearing where the cabin stood. Beyond that demarcation was the thick, foreboding forest in every direction. The illumination amid the trees was fine, although it was significantly dimmer here than in the clearing. Jason knew it would get very dark in there once the sun went down.

  Now he had all day—to do what? He was considering leaving as soon as he got his car freed. Trey really didn’t want him there. His thoughts lingered on the events of the night before. He couldn’t be hiding something, could he?

  The thought bounced into Jason’s head, and he felt a jolt. What if he was? When Trey saw him yesterday, the guy looked like he would explode. Jason detected a note of guilt in Trey’s admonitions, as if there was something that was scheduled to happen that he didn’t want Jason to know about.

  He entered the path behind the cabin that led into the woods, where the alleged hornet-infested shed was supposed to be, off-limits. Jason walked slowly, imagining that at any moment Trey would jump out from behind a tree and yell at him for disobeying his rules. The path was damp, but not muddy. Boot tracks were plainly visible, going back and forth.

  It wasn’t as far as he’d expected. Just straight ahead, thirty yards or so, and then around a bend. The shed. It stood still and lonely, surrounded by the encroaching forest. No windows. Just a door.

  With a padlock on it.

  Jason moved closer and thought he heard something. It was a high-pitched sound that had a lyrical quality to it.

  Birds? No …

  It was a human voice. A girl. A girl singing. A girl singing to herself. In another language …

  Oh my God—she’s inside the shed!

  Jason approached the door and knocked. “Hello? Is someone in there?”

  The singing stopped. Silence.

  “Hello?” He knocked again. “Is someone in there? Can I help you?”

  The woman’s voice called out. “Hello?”

  “Hello? Who’s in there?”

  “Are you … one of them?”

  “What? One of who?”

  “Oh God, oh God, are you here to rescue me?” she cried out.

  “What?” She had a foreign accent of some kind. Russian?

  “Help me, help me, please! I am a captive! They are keeping me prisoner and … abusing me! Help me!”

  Jason’s heart froze. He couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe.

  “Hello, are you still there?” the woman cried. She sounded desperate.

  “Yes, I am. Are you … are you serious? You’re a prisoner? Can you get closer to the door?”

  “I am chained to the wall near the bed. I can’t reach the door! Please get me out! These men will kill me!”

  Chained to the wall?

  “Hold on. Stay calm.” Jason, however, was about to burst. His adrenaline was pumping furiously and his heart pounded in his chest. “What’s your name?”

  “Nad—my name is Yana! Yana Kravec!”

  “Yana Kravec.”

  “Yes!”

  “All right, Yana. My name is Jason.”

  “Jason.”

  “I’m going to try and get help. I think I know where the keys are. But the guys who did this are still here. If they’re up, I don’t know if I can get to them. I’ll try. Or I have to get away and get help. Hang tight, all right?”

  “Please. Please hurry. I do not think I can take another night of that man. The soldier. He is a monster!”

  She means Trey. Jesus.

  “Okay, try to keep calm. I’ll be back.” He turned and hurried back up the path to the cabin. Along the way, he pulled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and tried to call 9-1-1. Still no service. He didn’t know why he thought there might be any during daylight. They were as isolated as an island in the middle of the sea.

  Before he reached the clearing, he stopped moving, observed the cabin, and noted that there was no sign of movement. He went around to the front and carefully opened the door—


  —and found Trey and Makar sitting in the common area with coffee cups in their hands.

  “There you are,” Trey said. “We were wondering what happened to you.”

  “I, uh, went to check on my car. It’s still stuck. I hope maybe when you’re ready, you’ll help me get it out of the mud. I think I should just go on back to Chicago. The sooner we get my car out, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”

  Trey wrinkled his brow. “Why are you leaving? Come on, stay. We’re going hunting.”

  “Nah, I think I’ll get on back.”

  “Jason, we’re going hunting, and that’s that. Now shut the door and come inside. We’ll get your car out later. You want coffee?”

  After a mediocre plate of scrambled eggs and bacon that Makar had prepared, Trey said, “Technically, the best time for hunting is early in the morning. Get out before dawn and be in place when the sun comes up. But this time of year, the black bear sows are in prime instructional mode to their six- or seven-month-old cubs. They could be out looking for food. I’ve encountered bears in the middle of the day before.”

  Jason did not want to go hunting. He’d been suffering through breakfast, wondering how he was going to get away and get help for Yana. At the same time, as he looked at the faces of Trey and Makar, he couldn’t fathom the cruelty and inhumanity in front of him. To think that the man she had called a “monster” was going to be his brother-in-law! Jason had to tell Nat. He had to let Mr. Paley know what his son was doing. There was no way around it. He thought he should contact Nat first, and persuade her to get her father involved. Mr. Paley would know what to do.

  The thought did cross his mind—how much did Nat know about her brother? She was smart, perceptive, had received a degree in psychology, for Christ’s sake. Surely she could see that Trey was way beyond “psychological problems.” Was she in denial? Was her entire family in denial?

  Had her old grandfather Maxim been trying to tell him something with the distinctive squeeze of the hand? Trying to warn him?

  When he was finished with his meal, Trey took the plate into the kitchen. He scraped the remains into the trash and turned on the faucet to rinse the dish, but there was no dish soap on the counter. Instinctively, he opened the drawer—but the key ring was no longer there.