Page 23 of Shared By 3

I nod and point at him. “I love you. Yes. Exactly.”

“Nerds,” Hunter says under his breath.

I take a few deep breaths. “Give me time with the letters. I’ll go over them and-”

“If it was someone I knew, I’d recognize the handwriting or the words they use,” Mr. Volkov says. “Shouldn’t you be planning a wedding, picking out dresses, choosing ... colors?”

“Don’t you talk down to me,” I snap, bringing my hand down on the table and facing Mr. Volkov like it’s just the two of us. “I tolerated it when I was new to this, but I’ve done more than half of what your men have.”

His lips twitch.

“I won’t play the highlights for you, since I know your memory is fine. More importantly, you’regoingto be at our wedding. You’ll be at the engagement party. You’ll be at the bachelor party if they want you there, you’ll be at the damn rehearsal, and if I want you at the dress fitting, you’ll give Vanya tissues when she tears up,” I finish.

He blinks at me and swallows once.

Hunter groans. “Take charge more, dorogaya. You’re so damn good at it.”

“Valerie, I appreciate your determination, but what can letters tell us? We don’t have a way to check the envelopes for saliva. I could hack a few systems for fingerprints, but if a person isn’t in the systems, it’s not going to help,” Chase says.

“It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” I ask him.

He considers it, then nods. “Lief, get the envelopes. We need prints from anyone who has touched them. Get tweezers and a lighter as well, so I can pull up the stamps and check under that for prints.”

“We sound like the police,” Mr. Volkov groans.

He speaks a language other than Russian, his eyes flicking to me. I shouldn’t have let on that I know Russian so early.

My men jump into action, leaving Mr. Volkov and me with the copies of the letters, alone. Together. With the expectation it’s going to go well.

“I don’t like this,” Mr. Volkov says as I exchange copies with him, reading over the threat to his life.

“It doesn’t warm your heart that someone’s thinking so much of you?” I ask before making a note on my own piece of paper, then grab another copy, comparing the handwriting and word choice.

“I’m referring to being alone with you. Your manipulation skills are ... beyond reproach, but it raises questions, especially considering how easily you use them,” he clarifies.

“My, I, you. Me, I, you,” I say out loud.

“What?”

“Mr. Volkov andnewMr. Volkov. The writer never uses your first name. He never calls you a businessman. It’s only ‘you’ and ‘Mr. Volkov’ as if they don’t know your first names. That’s crazy though, you can find everything online. It’s intentional,” I mutter.

“Which means what?”

“And ‘We’ is only used one. It’s a partnership. Whoever is writing this thinks that you’ll agree to killing yourself, Chase, Hunter, to save the ‘women’–also not named.” I tap the paper. “Why is there a code to where you’re supposed to meet, when they never ask to meet? They ask for an answer. It makes little sense.”

“You realize you sound insane,” he replies.

“Just like the letters.” I meet his eyes. “You say you’ve been threatened before. Did you ever discover who it was prior?”

“I get many letters. Threats from low-level thugs, from businessmen I refuse to work with. Even police who can’t get a reason to put or keep me behind bars,” Mr. Volkov answers.

“Any like this? Without your first name, signed Xoxo. That’s a more feminine sign off. Did you have a mistress or girlfriend or something after Vanya?” I continue.

Mr. Volkov continues to stare at me, like I’ve grown a second head. I motion for him to answer. “I can have Lief’s replacement check.”

“Da, do that. This is someone who’s been watching you and-” His words catch up to me. “Lief’s what?”

Lief himself opens the door. “Chase is taking care of the computer aspect of our mission. What can I assist with?”

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