Page 11 of Special Agent Anastacia

“I’m so sorry. Did their place survive?”

“Just. Thanks to the crew who kept their home watered down and fought the blaze back. They worked hard long hours and saved the whole district. Not like those idiots just here, giving me a hard time. Strutting around with his effing scorpion tattoo, acting like a bigshot.”

Hanna’s expression underwent a dramatic change. “A tattoo of a scorpion?”

Both adults heard the shock in her voice, and both turned to see the color leave her face. “What?” Ana moved closer, put her arm around Hanna’s shoulder, and spoke with authority. “Tell me.”

“It can’t be. I saw him die.” Hanna lifted her stunned eyes to Ana. “The man who shot my parents had a scorpion tattoo.” She shuddered, then added, “But he died. I watched him get shot.”

Ana pulled Hanna’s face into her chest and caressed the back of the girl’s head, stroking her messy hair. “Hanna, it’s okay. No doubt there’s many Russian men with those types of tattoos. I’ve heard that criminals get them done in prison. And, they have a lot of men jailed in that country.”

Lew spoke up, “Yeah, and they let the sons of bit… idiots out and force them into the army to fight for their country. As if criminals give a hot-damn about their nationality.”

Ana hid her grin at Lew’s stumbling way of making a point. Just then Maria, his partner, entered the store, which thankfully changed the subject. After introductions, they visited together until the girls gathered their bags and headed back to the car.

While they settled in their vehicle, Hanna spoke her opinion in a no-nonsense tone. “I like your friends, Ana. They’re very nice.”

“Most people around here are. We tend to look out for one another around here. Now, let’s go and see what mother nature has in store for us at the cabin.”

Chapter Eight

Hanna nodded and rolled down her window, liking the forest smells that took her back to her own country. While driving, she’d remembered the men they’d passed before entering the store. Had the rude, leaner man worn tattoos? He could be the right height whereas the other dude with him would be too short.

Her mind swam in circles, fear being the predominant emotion. Not wanting to let Anastacia see this reaction, she’d hidden it while they were meeting with her friends. But it hadn’t faded and having those memories haunt her now bothered Hanna. She couldn’t go around thinking that every immigrant who looked Eastern European might be another killer like the one from her horrid dreams.

Unwilling to share her fears, she glanced around as they drove a few minutes more before pulling onto a road that turned out to be a long driveway. An impressive log house awaited in the distance.

Determined to shake off her worries, she took the time to survey her surroundings and found pleasure sparking her heart. Ana had been right. This was a gorgeous spot. The large trees that framed the cabin gave the scene a forest-like appearance. She loved seeing late flowering bushes that circled the small piece of front lawn and raising her eyes, she noticed the lake shimmering in the far distance.

It looked surreal in its isolation away from the urban area they’d recently left. Her body relaxed into it’s first real calm since the black day she’d lost her parents. Serene now, she let herself flow into the looming peaceful feeling.

Suddenly, she sensed utter silence and looked over to notice her cousin having a moment of her own. Trying to see everything through Ana’s eyes, she took in the shabby look of negligence – a cabin unlived in – and understood how difficult it must be for Ana to see it like this.

There was a heavy wooden picnic table on what looked to be a slate patio, with an overhanging matching framed pergola acting as a cover for shade. Broken branches and piles of dried grass, weeds, and leaves surrounded that area, piled up against the furniture, giving it an unloved appearance.

Remembering how long the cabin had been uninhabited, Hanna understood the shoddy appearance. Even a couple of years of neglect mattered in this kind of climate, as noted in the overgrowth of the plants and the scruffy appearance of the place in general.

Without saying a word, she reached her hand across the center console and patted Ana’s fist still clenching the steering wheel. As if she’d been burnt, Ana swiftly removed her hand but stopped in midair as if she woke from a dream. Before Hanna could withdraw her unwanted gesture, Ana grabbed her hand and clung.

“Sorry. I’m not used to anyone understanding how difficult this is for me. Seeing my father’s sanctuary in such bad shape brings his death home to me like nothing else. He’d never let things deteriorate like this. Dad came here as often as he could get away and spent long hours manicuring those rhododendrons, deadheading them in the fall and cutting back the branches. Said working with beautiful plants and living in the forest helped heal the human madness he faced every day on the job.”

Hanna gripped Ana’s hand, clinging harder. When she spoke, her voice softened with emotion. “My family used to have a beautiful house too. My father owned a wonderful farm with many employees. And Mother nursed in the local hospital. That’s before the war destroyed it all. At the end, we moved to my grandmother’s small country house outside of Mariupol to take care of the old woman before she died. Father and Mother provided for us from the huge garden… and we had some chickens.” Hanna’s laugh held no humor. “Chickens. Lord help us. They meant everything.” Another snicker followed. “They reminded me that we were better off then most.”

“You mean because you were alive.”

“Yes. That had become the measuring stick to use by then. So many others had not only lost everything, but thousands had died.”

Ana swore and without trying to hide the words. “Jesus Christ. It’s a crazy world, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Filled with mean, crazy, horrible… horrible people.” Remembering the past, Hanna spit out the choking words from a dark place.

Hearing the hate-filled reply seemed to spur Ana on. Her hands encircled Hanna’s face, forcing the girl to look into her eyes, insisting her words were heard. “Hanna, look at me. Right now you might believe everyone has a black soul but everyday Isee a different truth. There are angels among us who prove the opposite. I’ve met many myself, and they bring me hope. Cling to that when you’re feeling blue, and hate fills you up. Believe those words. Okay?”

Hanna’s eyes filled with a softness that lessened the tension. “I do believe. You and your mom… you’re my angels.”

Chapter Nine

For the next few hours, Ana kept Hanna busy, helping her unload the car and bringing some semblance of order inside the cold cabin. She found a huge stack of dry logs her father must have chopped on his last trip and carefully built a warm fire. This helped dispel the feeling of emptiness throughout the high-ceiling, open concept of the living room, dining room, and small kitchen.

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