Geri Krotow - Her Christmas Protector

“Yes, ma—Claudia.”

Claudia patted her knee.

“That’s my gal. Now, let’s try to figure out how the man you saw on the football field could have made it here in time to be waiting for you when you drove up.”

“If he knew that I lived here ahead of time, then he knew I was undercover. That means there’s someone on the inside of the Trail Hikers who’s leaked the information, doesn’t it?”

“No, impossible. All of us have the highest level of clearance not only by government standards but by our standards. There is someone at the SVPD who knows about us, of course. Theoretically it’s possible that he leaked it...or that someone overheard him talking to me. But I doubt it.”

“How do you know it’s not him?”

Claudia answered with one decisive shake of her head.

“It’s not him. Our contact at SVPD is a virtual vault when it comes to operational security.”

“You’re that sure, huh?” Zora had a hard time believing anyone could be trusted completely. She’d held clearances and guarded national secrets for her entire career. Even the best of agents made mistakes, left files in the wrong place, spoke about something they shouldn’t have in an unsecured area.

“Let’s focus on the region around the farmhouse.” Claudia pulled a tablet out of her designer leather tote and tapped polished fingernails on the surface. A satellite image of Zora’s property appeared, taken in the spring, judging from the heavy foliage on the oak trees that peppered her yard.

“The timing doesn’t match, Claudia. Even with driving back to the station and getting into my car, it would take me only five or seven minutes longer than if I’d driven straight from the high school. Which we’re presuming the shooter did, if it’s the same guy?”

Claudia sat, her chin resting on her hand as she leaned over the tablet from the corner of the ottoman.

“It’s far-reaching but indeed possible. If he was driving a four-wheel-drive vehicle, he could have made it via these three farm roads.” Claudia used her cursor to mark the route. “He would have had to hide his car in the woods here or here.” She circled the copse of trees nearest to Zora’s house, and one a mile or so away.

“Bryce tried to pursue him and had the area blocked off within minutes of me going down. I find it hard to believe that no one saw anything at all while the shooter escaped. Don’t you find it odd, too?”

“I do. Unless the shooter lives around here.”

Zora sat up straight and immediately regretted it as a sharp stab of pain bit through her rib cage.

“Easy, Zora.”

“I’ll relax once we have the bastard. I know all of my surrounding neighbors. None of them look like the man I saw at the football game.”

“Like you, he could have been wearing some kind of disguise.”

“Has anyone done a profile on the residents?” Zora had a sinking feeling in her stomach. It was sickening to think one of the neighbors that she trusted to get her mail or watch Buttercup could be a killer.

Claudia swiped her tablet a few times until a spreadsheet of the Trail Hikers’ findings on her neighbors appeared.

“That’s fast work.”

“It’s what we get paid for.” Claudia handed the tablet to Zora and leaned back. “Robert Blumenthal, the Trail Hiker you met during your initial read-in, did the work.”

“It’s impeccable.” She’d expect no less from the agent who had, in two days, briefed her into the Trail Hikers and taught her their history, mission and capabilities. On top of that Rob had certified that she was proficient in a variety of weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat.

The Trail Hikers had to be dependable. It was part of what made Zora agree to sign on for a five-year stint. The other part had been that she knew she was going to miss the navy in terms of being operationally relevant. As much as she loved counseling and the people she helped, nothing compared to helping local and national LEA take down the bad guys in the most expeditious manner possible.

“Looks as if my neighbors are all trustworthy, thank God.”

“Which leaves the shooter on the loose.”

* * *

“Sit down with your father and eat your borscht, Zora.” Anna motioned at the spot near her father, Adam. Zora’s Ukrainian immigrant parents had given her a love for authentic Ukrainian cuisine as well a new name when they adopted her. They were as American as anyone but when it came to food, no one made a meaner borscht than Anna.

“I can’t thank you enough for setting up the tree for me, you two. I don’t know when I’d have gotten it off the back porch.” They’d cut down two trees last weekend and Zora had brought the smaller noble fir to her home, leaving it on the back porch to settle in a bucket of water.

Adam and Anna had set it up while she napped, and they had all decorated it together. It lit up the front room, its glow visible from the table where they ate.

“Your mother tells me you’re involved with more of your detective work, Zora.” Adam’s gravelly voice was in stark contrast to his fit form. Seen from behind, he looked thirty years younger than his true age.

“It’s not my work, Dad, it’s with a private agency. They were looking for someone with my background for some local work.” She’d given them minimal information on her work with the Trail Hikers and they hadn’t pressed it, accepting that it was similar to the type of work she’d done in the navy. She hadn’t been able to talk about that, either.

“Counseling’s not enough?” Anna slid into the chair opposite Zora, next to Adam.

“Yes, it’s more than enough. But it’s good for me to still give back in some way.”

“You owe nothing to no one.” Adam spooned the hot red broth and appeared calm but Zora knew better. Under his steady exterior was a bear that, once disturbed, could be formidable. And when it came to his only child, Adam was overprotective and immovable.

“Dad, it’s not as if anyone is forcing me to do this. I want to. And I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“We’re talking about it because we love you, Zora.” Anna spoke quietly from her seat, her bright blue eyes reflecting her concern.

And the same stubborn attitude as her husband.

“I know, Mom, and I appreciate that. I wouldn’t be here without either of you.”

“You’d be here, lubovichka , just with another family. We’re blessed that we got the pick of the litter.” Adam laughed at the family inside joke. They’d done all they could to draw Zora from the hardened shell she’d arrived with when the social worker had dropped her off in Silver Valley. Zora didn’t remember those days clearly, only that she’d taken months to learn to cry again, to allow her heart to open and pour forth incredible sorrow and grief over what she’d experienced in the True Believers cult. The trauma and emotional abuse she’d been subject to with the cooperation of her biological mother...

She shuddered.

“What? What did I say, Zora?” Adam’s bushy silver brows meshed into one.

“Nothing, Dad. I’m just thinking of how grateful I am that you both took me in.”

“We didn’t take you in like you were some bum off the streets. We adopted you.” Anna’s voice wrapped around Zora’s heart like a hand-knit alpaca throw.

“We would have taken her in if she were a bum, too. Enough of this.” Adam pointed a salad fork at Zora. “You need to relax. You did your navy time, and you don’t have to do anything that’s so dangerous anymore.”

Working for the Trail Hikers was far more dangerous on a day-to-day basis than her navy job had been, but she wasn’t going to volunteer that to her parents. They’d been through enough, worried plenty about her over the years. Not to mention their own struggles before and after they immigrated to America.