Don't Say a Word

by Barbara Freethy

"Alex would want me to get you to safety," Brady said. "He knows help is on the way. He'll be fine. Trust me."

  "If help is on the way, then we'll be safe there, too," she argued.

  "I don't know how many more men are in the garage."

  Julia thought about the two men who'd followed them to St. Helena. Maybe there were more people involved. But who were they? And if there were more of them in the garage, then Alex was definitely in trouble.

  "I demand that you turn this car around."

  He ignored her.

  "Please," Elena muttered from the backseat. "Please, do what she asks."

  Brady tossed Julia a look that told her he was going to do exactly what he wanted. "I know what I'm doing. I've been in these situations many time before."

  She supposed that was true, but it still didn't make her feel better. Her instincts were screaming in protest, her gut telling her something was terribly wrong.

  "We need to look at that letter," Brady continued. "You may have incriminating evidence in your bag. We can't allow it to fall into the wrong hands. It might threaten not only your own security, but that of others in our government as well."

  His serious words reminded Julia that this mystery had begun a world away. She wondered if the letter from her parents would finally answer all of her questions.

  "We're almost there," Brady said as she began to open her purse. "Hang on." He spun around a corner on two wheels, the tires squealing in protest.

  Julia's heart leapt into her throat as Brady dodged in and out of traffic. She hoped Brady wouldn't kill them on the way to saving their lives. Five minutes later they were heading out of the city, across the Potomac and into a residential neighborhood. In fact, the area was almost rural, with lots of space and land, with a house every quarter mile. Julia had no idea where they were. Finally, Brady pulled into the driveway of a modest one-story home that was set apart from its neighbors by tall trees on each side of the property. "Inside," he said, looking around as he escorted them into the house. Julia barely had time to see the living room before Brady pushed them into a back bedroom. "Safest place in the house," he said.

  When they were all in the bedroom, Julia finally let herself breathe. They were safe, at least for the moment. That security hadn't registered with Elena, whose blue eyes were dark and worried. Her skin was pale, and beads of sweat lined her forehead. Elena was probably even more confused than Julia. Her sister hadn't spent the past week running from some sinister force the way Julia had.

  She turned to Brady, suddenly aware that he had taken the contents of the safe-deposit box out of her bag. The letter he'd expressed interest in had been tossed onto the bed. Brady was now fiddling with the frame on the Icon.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  He didn't answer her. Instead, he produced a small screwdriver and took the frame apart. His eyes lit up as he pulled out a dark red stone that caught the sunlight. A ruby?

  Julia had the sudden feeling the surprises weren't over yet. "Oh, my God! Is that real?"

  "Oh, yeah," he muttered.

  The ruby was followed by another huge stone, then another, until there were six in all: an opal, a diamond, two sapphires, two rubies—a fortune in jewels.

  "I knew it," he said in satisfaction. "I knew they were in there."

  "What do you mean, you knew they were there? Where did they come from?" Julia demanded.

  For a moment it didn't appear that he would answer her; then he shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter if you know. The jewels belonged to your great-grandmother. She was a favorite with the Imperial Court. She received one perfect stone after each performance and had them sewn into her costumes. Then the revolution swept across Russia. The costumes disappeared. Tamara claimed they'd been stolen, but it was rumored that she'd hidden them away." His smile grew smug as he faced Julia. "Your mother told me about them one night. She said they could be used to buy her family's freedom. How could I resist an offer like that?" He glanced down at the stones. "I've waited twenty-five years to hold these babies," he muttered, closing his fist around the stones. "They're finally mine."

  "Yours? They're ours," Julia corrected.

  "I don't think so."

  Julia looked into his cold, dark eyes and saw the truth. Brady had been in Russia at the time of the defection. He knew about her parents. He knew about the jewels. He'd probably worked both sides. He hadn't wanted to help her parents defect; he'd wanted to get the treasure. She swallowed hard, realizing where her thoughts were taking her. She was probably staring at the man who'd set a trap for her parents. "It was you, wasn't it?" she asked, the words escaping from her lips before she could consider the wisdom of saying them. "You're the one who killed my parents."

  "They double-crossed me," he said flatly. "They set me up to think I already had the jewels in my possession. It was their ticket to freedom, but they gave me fakes. They deserved what they got."

  "They didn't deserve to die," she protested, pain and anger filling her soul at his callous disregard for their lives.

  He shrugged. "It had to be done. I couldn't let them leave the country with the jewels."

  His coldness, his complete lack of conscience, was now starkly evident. How could Julia have missed it before? How could she and Alex have been taken in by his offers to help? That answer was obvious now, too. They'd trusted Brady because Charles and Stan trusted him. Did the other two know of his duplicity, or had they been conned as well?

  "Did anyone ever suspect you?" she asked.

  "Of course not," he said in a cocky tone. "I was too clever. The Russians thought the Americans had done it. The Americans believed the Russians had done it. No one ever knew it was me. And no one ever will." He pulled a gun out of his jacket and pointed it at her.

  Elena gasped. "No!"

  Julia began to shake. She'd never been this close to a real gun before. It was terrifying, but if she was going to die, she had to know the rest. "Why?" she asked. "Why did you kill them? Why didn't you just steal the jewels and disappear?"

  "I couldn't take the chance that I would be discovered," he said smoothly. "I told them it was the perfect plan. They give me the jewels. I get them out of the country. Only the real plan was they give me the jewels; then they die." His expression turned ugly, his mouth curving with anger and disgust. "But they tricked me. They gave me fakes. I didn't find out until after they were dead. I thought you were all dead. I thought the game was over. Then a little photograph appeared in a magazine, and I knew there was still a chance the jewels had gotten out with you and your sister. It just took until now to find them, but they're mine now. And it's over. It's all over."

  "Why didn't you come after us before?" Julia asked. "Why wait until now?"

  "You were hidden away by the time I got to the States. I found Elena." He tipped his head toward her sister, who was shivering so hard, Julia could hear her teeth rattling. "I went through her stuff. I saw the dolls, the necklace, but she had nothing else. I thought that you must have it all—that Sarah had taken the treasure, that she was the one who'd outsmarted me. But she'd covered her tracks so well, I couldn't find her."

  So her mother had saved her life.

  "Sarah didn't know what she had, did she?" he asked.

  "I have no idea what she knew," Julia retorted: "But she had me. That's all she wanted."

  "She always did think small."

  "Don't say that," Julia told him angrily. "You don't know anything about her."

  "And I don't care," Brady replied. "This conversation is done. I'm going to finish what I started. Give me your purses. You won't be calling anyone for help. Put them on the ground and push 'em over here."

  Julia didn't want to obey, but he had a gun, and she couldn't think what else to do. She put her handbag on the ground and kicked it toward him, wondering how on earth they could get out of this situation alive. She tried to reassure Elena with her eyes, but Elena wasn't stupid. She knew they were in big trouble. Now Julia was glad that Alex wasn't wit
h them. Maybe he'd survive if she didn't. The thought was terrifying. She didn't want to die, not now, not when she finally knew who she was and what she wanted.

  Brady tossed their purses through the open door, his eyes focused on the two women as he backed away. "Think of it like this—at least you'll go together, and it will be quick. Over in a flash," he said with a cruel smile.

  Julia's heart began to beat double time. Her parents had been killed by a bomb going off in their house. Was that what Brady had planned for them? Was he going to blow up this house with them in it?

  "You must listen," the man pleaded.

  Alex didn't want to listen, but since he had the Russian pinned up against the garage wall, one arm against the man's windpipe and no backup in sight, he could either knock him out or give him a chance to say his piece. "Talk then."

  "Brady. He's the one who killed Natalia and Sergei."

  There was a spark of truth in his blue eyes, eyes that looked remarkably similar to Julia's, Alex thought. Not that he trusted this guy, but it suddenly occurred to him that Brady was gone, as were Julia and Elena. "How do you know?"

  "I'm Roland Markov. Sergei's half brother," he said breathlessly. "I have a driver's license. In my pocket," he added. "I was going to show it to you."

  Alex sent him a skeptical look, but he had to admit that despite the fact that Brady had yelled, "Gun," there was no actual evidence of a weapon. "Where is it?"

  "In my inside jacket pocket."

  "Don't move," Alex ordered, holding the man with one hand as he reached into the pocket. He pulled out a brown billfold and flipped it open. The driver's license photo was accurate. So was the name. The address was in Los Angeles. "You're a long way from home," he said. "And you were in San Francisco. Julia saw you several times. You broke into her apartment and mine."

  Roland shook his head. "No, that wasn't me. I saw Julia at the radio station, yes. I spoke to her in Russian. I wanted to see if she understood. She got scared and ran. But I didn't break into her apartment. That was Brady. I saw him and another man enter her building one day. I wasn't sure if it was him. It had been many years since I'd seen him."

  Alex didn't know what to believe. "I chased you through the park. You tried to grab Julia's bag."

  "No, that wasn't me. I don't run fast. If you chased me, you would have caught me."

  Alex had to admit the man was big and a little slow, which was why he'd been able to pin him against the wall.

  "I saw the photograph of Elena in the LA newspaper," Roland continued. "I read the story, and my wife said I must go to San Francisco and see if it is really her."

  The fact that Roland correctly identified the girl in the photo as Elena made Alex believe he was telling the truth. He slowly released him, but stayed close.

  "So why didn't you just introduce yourself?"

  Roland's tongue darted out, sweeping his bottom lip in nervousness. "I realized the girl in San Francisco is Yulia. When I saw others watching her, I became afraid. I didn't know who killed Sergei for sure. Could be secret police, could be friend, could be anyone. I think they come back now to kill Yulia. Or to get what they hadn't gotten before. I decide it is best to wait and watch."

  Alex stared at Roland. "Get what?"

  "Natalia had several precious stones from a century ago. She and Sergei told me they would use them to start a new life. And they would send for me when they could. When they died, I didn't know what happened to the jewels, until I saw the picture of Elena. If she was alive, perhaps she had the jewels, too."

  The treasure, Alex thought. He finally knew what it was. "Wait. Why do you think Brady killed Sergei and Natalia? How could he get the treasure if they were dead?"

  "Sergei was worried about betrayal," Roland said heavily. "He told me he had made elaborate plans for the defection to work. Brady must have thought he had the jewels or that he could get them once Natalia and Sergei were dead." He paused, his eyes sad. "They were so careful, but they still trusted the wrong man."

  "And Brady let everyone think that the Russians had done in their own people," Alex said slowly, as the pieces of the puzzle came together. "Very clever. So where are the jewels?"

  "I believe they were hidden in the frame of a picture."

  Alex's heart sped up. The Russian icon. "Dammit. We have to find Brady."

  "I've been following him since yesterday," Roland said. "He went to a house this morning. It's not far from here."

  "Let's go." Alex ran for Elena's car. Fortunately, he still had the keys in his pocket.

  "We should hurry," Roland said. "Once Brady has the stones, he'll have no reason to keep Elena or Yulia alive."

  Alex's heart jumped into overdrive. He gunned the motor and tore out of the parking lot, following Roland's directions to the highway and praying he wouldn't be too late. "Maybe Brady doesn't know the jewels are in the icon," he said hopefully.

  Roland didn't answer him. Alex shot him a questioning look. Roland met his gaze, then shrugged. "He knows." There was something in that fatalistic shrug that disturbed Alex. "Tell me something, Roland. Did you come here to save the girls or to get the jewels?"

  "Perhaps the girls give me small token of gratitude." Alex was disappointed, but also relieved to get an honest answer for a change. "I won't let you hurt Julia or Elena," he warned.

  1"I don't want to hurt them. They are family."

  "Rich family now," Alex commented. He didn't know if he trusted Roland or not, but he'd deal with him later. First he had to find Julia before Brady found those stones.

  Julia saw Brady backing toward the door and knew they had only one chance to escape, and it was now. No time to plan, think, or analyze. She drew in a big gulp of air, praying she was making the right decision; then she let her instincts and her anger take over. This man had killed her parents without remorse. She would not let him kill her and Elena, too.

  She threw her body at the arm that held the gun, hoping to knock it out of his hand. Instead she heard a gunshot, and they both tumbled to the ground. She waited for a searing pain somewhere in her body, but she could feel nothing but an intense desire to stop him from shooting again.

  Adrenaline gave her strength and determination as she wrestled for the gun. Brady was bigger than she was, stronger. He knocked her across the face with the back of his hand. Stars exploded behind her eyes. She'd never taken a punch before, and the pain was shocking. But she couldn't let it stop her. He was scrambling to get to his feet. She jumped on him again, knocking him down on the dusty hardwood floor.

  He reared back in fury, throwing her against the bed. Her head bounced off the corner of the bedpost, and another shot of pain screamed through her body. She struggled to get her breath, to move. She had to move!

  But Brady was getting away.

  He stumbled toward the door.

  Julia watched in horror, unable to do anything but wait for her breath to come back and her muscles to follow her command.

  Suddenly Elena moved. She picked up the only other piece of furniture in the room—a simple wooden desk chair. Brady was so intent on reaching the door, he didn't see her coming. Elena whacked him over the head. The sound of the wood cracking against his skull was something Julia would never forget, but her relief when he landed on the ground with a dull thud was even better.

  For a split second she and Elena simply stared at him, unable to believe he wasn't moving, wasn't getting up, wasn't waving the gun in their faces.

  The gun… Julia finally got her feet back under her. She grabbed the gun near his hand and tossed it across the room.

  "We've got to get out of here," Elena cried, grabbing the envelopes off the bed. "Hurry. The house is going to explode."

  "Not without the stones," Julia replied. She forced herself to open Brady's clenched fist, terrified that at any moment he would wake up and grab her arm.

  "We don't have time. Please," Elena begged. "The bomb could go off at any second."

  "Go without me. I'll be right there." />
  "No, I can't leave you behind."

  "And we can't leave the jewels behind. They belonged to our great-grandmother." Julia peeled Brady's fingers apart. Even unconscious he seemed determined to hang on to those stones. Finally, she got his hand open enough to take the jewels. She grabbed their purses on the way out of the bedroom, and they dashed toward the front door, hoping against hope they'd get out in time.

  As they hit the porch, the cool air struck Julia like a welcoming hug. They were out. They were free.

  A car came screaming down the street. Alex.

  Her heart sang again as he jumped out and came running toward them. He was alive. He was all right. Thank God!

  "Brady?" Alex asked, meeting her halfway up the walk. "Where is he?"

  "Inside." She grabbed his arm as he headed toward the house. "There's a bomb," she yelled. "There's no time." She pulled him back toward the car, shocked to see the Russian get out of the vehicle. "What is he doing here?"

  "Long story," Alex shouted. "But he's family."

  His words were cut off by an enormous explosion. A roaring, thundering sound was followed by blazing heat and a tornado of flames that threw them to the sidewalk. Alex's body came over Julia's as debris and fiery ash rained down on their heads. After the initial blast, Alex got up, and they scrambled toward the other side of the car, collapsing onto the ground. Julia saw Elena and the Russian hiding there, too, their bodies paralyzed with fear and shock as they gazed back at the inferno that had once been a simple house.

  "You're all right?" Alex asked, his worried gaze searching Julia's face while his hands ran up and down her arms. "He didn't hurt you?"

  She shook her head, swallowed, tried to speak. Finally, she tipped her head toward the Russian. "Who?"

  "Uncle," Alex said. He gave Elena a reassuring nod. "He's your uncle Roland. I don't know what his story is yet, so don't get too close."

  Elena was staring at the man as if she'd seen him before. "I remember you. You always gave us chocolate."

  Roland smiled. "Yes, that was me. Your mother used to scold me. She said I was spoiling you."