Reunion Under Fire. Geri Krotow
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chipper, casual. Annie made a show of reaching into the drawer of the antique table and pulling out skeins to replace the yarn Kit was purchasing, displaying them in perfect symmetry.
“Yes. She is my friend.” Quietly, with certainty.
“I’ll see you ladies later. Don’t you dare miss tonight, Kit!” Ginny gave them a wave as she gathered up her bags and walked out of the shop, the large front door opening and closing with the familiar sound of the squeaky wood that surrounded the stained-glass window.
“That doorjamb needs to be trimmed. It’s swelled every summer since I can remember.” Annie looked at Kit, who’d taken her skeins to the counter and still looked like a rabbit ready to bolt into the nearest bush.
“I love the old feel of this place.” Kit’s words were softly spoken, wishful.
“You strike me as the contemporary type. Your sense of style is beautiful.” Annie referenced Kit’s chic urban style, from her sleeveless silky turtleneck, long linen cardigan and flared crops. Her stacked sandals revealed perfectly manicured toes, and her designer bag cost more than Annie’s New York City rent.
“Thank you. I do like modern things, but there’s nothing like the comfort of the familiar.” Kit gazed at the balustrade that followed the stairs behind the counter up to a peekaboo corridor above the built-in bookcases that led to Ezzie’s apartment.
“You know, Kit, if you ever need anything, you can stop in, or call me. I’m not my grandmother, and you don’t know me yet, but you can trust me.” Annie rang up Kit’s order and added her personal cell phone number to the back of the shop’s frequent-buyer card that she handed to the woman. It was far less incriminating than if she gave Kit her NYPD business card and her abuser found it. “My number’s on the back. You’re one skein away from a free one.”
“I don’t keep these cards.” Kit frowned at the punch card. Silver Valley was like any other American town in that the local business owners did everything financially possible to reward repeat customers. Annie wasn’t surprised that Kit didn’t save them. Abused women learned to leave no trace of where they’d been, what they’d done. It made fewer waves at home from a prying husband who wanted to control their every move.
“Oh, well, I didn’t know. I’m still getting to know all of the regular customers.” Ezzie would have known, and she’d know why Kit didn’t keep the cards. It was probably because she didn’t want her husband to know where she shopped, in case he went through her wallet. Annie had heard every breach of personal boundaries in her career with NYPD.
“No, you didn’t. But I feel you do. Know.” Kit’s eyes dropped all previous defenses, and for a long moment she stood at the counter, emotionally naked to Annie, who saw fear, trepidation and an unexpected emotion. Determination. Kit was going to fight whoever was hurting her.
Annie handed Kit her bag of yarn. “I’m here.”
Kit’s hands shook as she took the bag. Without another word she turned and walked out of the shop.
Annie might not have expected to bring her law-enforcement therapy skills to bear this soon into her stint at Silver Threads Yarn Shop, but having a sense of purpose related to something she knew allowed a sliver of light to slant through the veil of doom she’d carried here from New York.
* * *
Joshua Avery walked through the Silver Valley Police Department, trying to remember that for the time being he was Officer Avery again and not Detective Avery. He’d asked for a temporary demotion so that he could be around more for his younger sister.
The building was unusually quiet, especially for a Friday morning. Everyone was either off, out on patrol or attending a law-enforcement conference in the next town over. He had to admit he was a little disappointed no one was around to see him back in his working blues. As a detective he hadn’t worn his Silver Valley PD uniform in more than a year, and he was grateful it still fit. He’d gotten used to his civilian clothes while he served as an SVPD detective, but had to admit that being back in uniform felt good.
“Morning, Josh.” SVPD Chief Colt Todd motioned to him to enter his office. “Don’t get too comfortable in that uniform, Josh. As soon as you get your sister settled, I’ll need you back as a full-time detective.” Tall with graying hair, Colt still looked like a man in his prime, fitness-wise.
“Yes, sir.” Josh, along with the rest of SVPD, would follow their leader through fire because of exactly this—Colt’s ability to be compassionate while still letting an employee know he thought the person was the only one for the job. Without hesitation, he’d given Josh a reprieve from the near-24/7 routine of detective work. Josh’s younger sister, a disabled adult, needed to be placed in a full-time care community, and Josh needed time to pick the right place for Becky. But Josh couldn’t afford extended leave, so going back in uniform was a good compromise for both him and SVPD.
“As for this weekend, I’ll need you to man the fort while most of the department is in Carlisle for the ROC strategy session.” Colt referred to the Russian Organized Crime deterrent conference, run this weekend at the county seat.
Josh nodded and listened as Colt ran down the issues he wanted him to keep his finger on. Since ROC had come to Silver Valley, the entire department had been putting in extra hours, scouring the community for any evidence that the criminals had sent yet another group of trafficked underage girls to the area. ROC had initiated a shipment to Silver Valley a couple of months ago, and SVPD had played a role in saving the girls, freeing them from the degrading work, legal and illegal, they’d been enslaved to before they ever touched American soil. Like the flow of ROC heroin into the area, the sex trafficking trade was relentless.
“You’re also going to be the top guy here while I’m at the conference all weekend. I’ll be back on Monday morning to check in, and of course call me with anything you need to.”
“Copy that, Chief.” He hoped the station would stay quiet so that he could go home for dinner with Becky. And to continue his search for an apartment for her, as much as he didn’t want to think about it.
“Look, Josh, I know you’d rather be in the thick of the ROC problem with everyone else right now. And I’d love to have you there. It hurts like hell to lose you as a detective, even if it’s only for a few weeks or so. I’m sorry about the setback with your sister. You’ll be working as a detective again soon.” Colt looked at him. “It’ll be no longer than a few weeks, right?”
“I hope not, Chief. The more regular hours on patrols and at the desk are better for Becky and me as we adjust to our new reality. It’s coming together. We were spoiled when she went to school every day, and then all the day camps she was eligible for in the summer. Since she graduated from high school, her requirements have changed. I’m close to finding her a more permanent living arrangement.” It killed him to say it, but he forced the words through his teeth. Becky didn’t need him as much anymore, didn’t want him as much. It was time to let her become as independent as any mentally challenged young woman could. She’d drawn a sucky hand with being deprived oxygen at birth, giving her lifelong mental difficulties that were umbrellaed under the description of Pervasive Developmental Disorder, PDD. They included developmental delays, attention deficit disorder and anxiety. To make matters worse, she’d been dealt another horrible hand when their parents had been killed in a car crash a decade ago. But she’d made the best of it and was happy, as happy as a nine-year-old in a nineteen-year-old body could be. Josh couldn’t ask for more. Except for a promise that nothing bad would ever happen to her, which he knew was impossible.
“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, Josh. You’ve done a fine job of raising your sister, and your parents would be pleased.”
“Thanks, Chief.” Josh stood up. He didn’t like it when people complimented him on what he’d done. It was what any other brother would do, and he never felt worthy of the praise. He did his job—he took care of his sister. “Is there anything else?”
“No, Josh. Only the usual—let’s keep it rolling and do