Page 57 of Heart of Frost and Scars

“Oliver.” She melts when she sees him, her smile sad and full of affection.

He doesn’t move as she walks to him and wraps her arms around him. My wife is a hugger. Oliver is not. But he tolerates it, maybe even secretly loves it. The old fuck has a soft spot for her.

What I wouldn’t give to feel her arms around me again.

“Frankie, you look well.” He steps out of her embrace, polite and professional. “Though it seems you could use a good meal. What would you like?”

She glances at the table, at our half-eaten plates. “Kody and I would love your Eggs Benedict. I’ve been dreaming about it for months.”

“Yes, of course.” With a crooked smile, he turns to Kody. “You are Rurik’s youngest son.”

“That’s what I hear.” Kody frowns.

“It’s a pleasure, Kodiak. I’m Oliver, at your service.” He bows deeply, either to piss me off or to hide whatever emotion sneaks onto his face.

Probably both.

When he takes his leave, Frankie sits at the table between Leo and me.

“What did you break?” Her gaze goes to my busted hand.

“A wall.”

“A wall is better than a face.” She purses her lips. “What did we miss?”

I catch them up on the relevant parts of the conversation. Then Leo picks up where we left off, asking me about the narrative I’m feeding the press.

“I’ll show you.” I remove Frankie’s phone from my pocket and launch one of the major media websites.

Pressing play on the headline story, I slide the phone to them.

They hover over the screen as a well-known news anchor informs the nation that the wife of billionaire mogul Monty Novak was abducted by his estranged brother last year. The brother, Denver Strakh, held her in a cabin in the Arctic for nine months, where he also kept his son and younger brother, whom he kidnapped and raised in isolation. Over the winter, the food ran out, and Denver didn’t survive. Half-starved, the survivors found a way to escape on a plane and crashed near Fairbanks. They were released from the hospital this morning.

Frankie’s eyes close briefly. Kody remains unreadable, taking in the information.

“You told them Denver died of starvation?” Leo’s gaze grabs mine.

“I led them to that conclusion without outright stating it. The details surrounding his death haven’t been disclosed. But because abduction was involved, the detectives want to meet with each of you.”

“They want to interrogate us.” Frankie sits back.

“They’ll ask questions, yes. I held them off as long as I could and pulled strings so we could deal with it here in Sitka. But they’re growing impatient. I expect them to show up here today or tomorrow. We need to corroborate a story before that happens.”

“Melanie has my journal.” She rubs her temple. “The whole story is in there. Denver’s murder, Wolf’s suicide, the abuse that we all endured…”

“No crimes have been reported outside of the kidnappings. If you want it to remain that way, keep the story as is. If you want Denver’s crimes exposed, be prepared for a long, messy, and very public investigation.”

“No.” Kody stiffens. “Denver is dead, appropriately punished, and will never hurt anyone else again. The abuse he inflicted…that stays among us. No one needs to know about our history.”

“Except your psychiatrist.” She cocks a red eyebrow.

He scowls.

“Psychiatrists are mandatory reporters.” I tap my fingers on my knee, thinking. “But in your case, the crime isn’t active, and your kidnapper allegedly died of starvation. Your psychiatrist won’t need to report the information to law enforcement. That said…” I take a steady breath. “The press is speculating that there’s more to the story. Kidnapping implies assault and abuse. Since they don’t have evidence, they’re digging for it. We don’t want them digging.”

“So you promised them an exclusive.” Her shoulders bunch up.

I can almost hear the echoes of Denver’s abuse ringing in her ears, and I fucking hate it.

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