A sudden rush of tears had her bolting from her seat on the couch. She couldn’t bawl like a baby while participating in a meeting with NSWC.
That was not Valkyrie behavior.
In the bathroom, she closed and locked the door, then leaned against the sink and stared into the mirror, wondering if she was going to cry, puke, or do both.
As always, her mother’s face stared back at her.
Bile surged, and she flipped the lid on the toilet just in time to lose the contents of her stomach. After the spasms passed, she heard Rand outside the door. “Kira? Can I help?”
Just his voice was a balm. She wasn’t alone in this. She’d blithely walked right into a trap, but Rand had chased her across an ocean and was there to whisk her out of her biological father’s house and get her back to a safe house she’d never even considered she might need.
What would have happened that first night if she’d accepted Reuben’s invitation to walk her to the hotel? What if Rand hadn’t been there yesterday when she’d actually met with him?
He hadn’t wanted her to meet their father. Hadn’t wanted her in Malta at all.
The text she’d received her first night in Malta: You shouldn’t have come. It must’ve been sent by Reuben.
“Kira?”
She rose to her feet. “I’m okay.” Fine would be an overstatement, but okay felt close enough. “You need to get back to the meeting. It’s important.”
“You’re important.”
“I am. But not in the same way. I’ll get myself together and rejoin as soon as I can, but you need to be there now.”
“Take all the time you need.” His footsteps retreated down the short hall.
She splashed cold water on her face and gave herself the pep talk she usually reserved for social anxiety. This was an entirely different kind of anxiety, but maybe it would respond to the same deep breaths and affirmations.
She remembered her break in the gallery, another pep talk she’d given herself, when she was feeling the loss of her beloved parents.
Were Conrad and Anna the actual monsters?
Another memory from that night at the gallery tickled the back of her mind. All at once, she remembered Laskin. She hadn’t met him, but she’d seen him.
Forget self-affirmations, those wouldn’t help, but this would. A purpose. A proactive role. As Rand had said, it was time to play offense while they had the ball.
She no longer wanted to cry or puke. No, she would rejoin the meeting and be the Valkyrie they needed. There was a new threat to Little Creek, and she could help.
She blotted her face with a towel. One more deep breath and she grabbed her purse from the hall table and made her way to the living room, where Rand sat before a magnificent view of the deep blue Mediterranean with his laptop propped on a trash can in front of him.
Her heart squeezed at his sheer beauty. But he’d shown her he was so much more than a pretty face and muscles. This wasn’t a fling for him. He wanted a relationship.
Her past was a mess, but he offered her a future. She wasn’t alone anymore.
She would do everything she could to deserve him. Starting now.
She sat on the couch next to him. He took her hand and pressed it to his heart. She felt the heavy beat. It was soothing. In the small box on the screen that showed the two of them, she could see their entwined fingers. He wasn’t hiding the change in their relationship status from his commanders or his team.
She waited for a pause in the conversation, but none came, so she jumped in, having no clue what they were discussing. “I might be able to get us into Laskin’s house.”
Her words were like a record scratch.
In the silence, she added. “If not his house, then one of his businesses.”
The SEAL sitting next to Chris said, “You mean the house on Gozo?”
“Yes.” Her belly churned, and she took a steadying breath. “With everything going on at the villa, my brain skipped over the fact that I’ve seen Laskin before. When he showed up at the villa, I was reeling from learning Darth Vader is my father and Reuben…” She shook her head. “I didn’t really look at Laskin. Even here, seeing his photo on the screen, it didn’t register. But I saw him. Friday night, at the gallery.”
“I don’t remember seeing him,” Rand said. “I didn’t get a photo either. Freya would have caught that.”
“He left before you arrived. He’s an art patron, like Reuben, and he was there to support the glass artist, Juliette Vella. From their body language and what she said, I gathered they’re lovers. She gave me her card.” She reached into the side pocket of her purse, produced the item, and held it up to the camera. “And invited me to visit her on Gozo. She specifically wanted me to see her work in a gallery on the island.
“I think it would be…prudent for my client, military thriller author Randall Fallon, to be interested in investing in her art. He saw her work on Friday night, and it’s actually quite amazing. A good investment. But more important, I’m pretty sure the Gozo gallery is owned by Laskin. He and Reuben are involved in some sort of competition where Juliette’s work is concerned. I wouldn’t be surprised if Laskin told Juliette to invite me to visit because he already knew I’m Kulik’s daughter.”
Chapter Forty-One
“I’ve heard of Juliette Vella and know about her connection to Laskin.” Teague’s face reddened as he spoke, which was somewhat humiliating given that he was a SEAL in a room full of them, but what he was about to reveal could land him in a psych eval that he could very well fail.
Still, he had to speak, no matter the future cost. He had information that could speed this investigation along.
He cleared his throat. This was it. No turning back. “When I was recovering from injuries received during the Lake Olympus Lodge Exercise, I researched Laskin.” He was tempted to justify his actions, but most would understand, even if they didn’t approve.
“NSWC has their own analysts who are trained in that sort of thing.” The statement came from a lieutenant he didn’t know.
Teague shrugged. “Still, I have information that’s relevant.”
