Snowbound With The Secret Agent (Silver Valley P.D. Book 7) Read online

  Keeping an innocent witness close...too close

  Silver Valley P.D.’s most dangerous case yet

  When Portia DiNapoli accidentally witnesses a deadly crime, she becomes the Russian mob’s most wanted. But she’s not running anywhere—she’s teaming up with undercover agent Kyle King to protect the small town she loves. But what blooms between them is an instant, lethal attraction that could be the love of a lifetime. Or one they won’t survive...

  “You’ve got to know that I’m a full-partnership kind of guy, Portia. Since you kissed me last time, it’s my turn to kiss you.”

  “Aren’t we kissing each other?” She spoke in a whisper as she watched his mouth move around his words, saw the flick of his tongue against his teeth. Her knees were wobbly, sure, but it was the insistent hot pulse between her legs that shook her. She’d do anything this man let her, allow him to do whatever he wanted. Portia wanted Kyle as she’d never wanted another man. It didn’t make sense; she barely knew him—

  His fingers touched her temple. “Stop, Portia. You’re thinking too much. If either of us stops to think this out, take it to its logical conclusion, we’re going to miss out.”

  “Yes.” Her lips throbbed, too, wanting this kiss to start so that it could never end.

  “I’m going to kiss you now, Portia. Is that okay?” His breath warmed her face, and she loved the intimacy of his scent mingling with cinnamon and maybe a linger of the morning’s coffee. Other than his hand on her neck they weren’t touching. She swayed and her pelvis moved with her, needing to know if he was as turned on as she.

  “Stop talking, Kyle.”

  * * *

  We hope you enjoy the Silver Valley P.D. miniseries.

  * * *

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  Dear Reader,

  Snowbound with the Secret Agent is my favorite kind of romantic suspense to write—two opposite worlds colliding in the middle of a snowstorm. Portia and Kyle discover a sizzling attraction as Portia becomes the target of a Russian organized crime ring’s assassin. For those of you following the Silver Valley P.D. series you already know that ROC has infiltrated the Pennsylvania town, and the brave members of SVPD and the Trail Hikers secret agency are fighting their deadliest opponents yet. But there’s still love and sexy romance, as evidenced by Portia and Kyle’s journey.

  Meeting my readers is an incredible gift. Please connect with me at www.gerikrotow.com.

  Peace,

  Geri

  SNOWBOUND

  WITH THE SECRET

  AGENT

  Geri Krotow

  Former naval intelligence officer and US Naval Academy graduate Geri Krotow draws inspiration from the global situations she’s experienced. Geri loves to hear from her readers. You can email her via her website and blog, gerikrotow.com.

  Books by Geri Krotow

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense

  Silver Valley P.D.

  Her Christmas Protector

  Wedding Takedown

  Her Secret Christmas Agent

  Secret Agent Under Fire

  The Fugitive’s Secret Child

  Reunion Under Fire

  Snowbound with the Secret Agent

  The Coltons of Red Ridge

  The Pregnant Colton Bride

  The Coltons of Shadow Creek

  The Billionaire’s Colton Threat

  Visit the Author Profile page at

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  To Michelle Mioff-Haring.

  Thank you for your friendship and your tireless support of Silver Valley.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Excerpt from A Soldier’s Honor by Regan Black

  Excerpt from No Stone Unturned by Julie Moffett

  Chapter 1

  Something was wrong in Silver Valley, Pennsylvania, but Portia DiNapoli couldn’t put her finger on it. It wasn’t the weather, which had been hellacious since Christmas. She couldn’t remember such a cold, snowy winter since her childhood. And it wasn’t the stress of putting together the town’s largest charity event, the gala to raise funds for the library she ran and the homeless shelter where she volunteered many hours. If she thought about it deeply enough, the sense of doom had more to do with the story she’d read in the Harrisburg newspaper that proclaimed the area was under siege from Russian Organized Crime. Silver Valley had been named as the center of ROC’s efforts to move everything from illicit drugs to weapons. It struck at her heart, because Silver Valley was where she’d lived her entire life.

  Although right now, having to dress in several layers to go anywhere in town, it was hard to believe even ROC could run criminal operations from here. Silver Valley had turned into a frozen tundra from the relentless winter.

  She’d arrived three hours before opening to work at the Silver Valley Library. She needed the time to work on the gala, which was now less than a month away. And she loved the quiet of the historical building, the way it always felt like a warm hug, even in the January predawn hours. Pennsylvania remained gripped by the tenacious hand of a polar vortex; arctic air had mercilessly swept the state and frozen everything in its wake. More surface area of the Susquehanna River was frozen than ever previously recorded.

  It took her a full two minutes to unwrap from her layers of winter protection. She’d opted to walk the few blocks from her small apartment, even in the cold. Portia loved the four seasons and especially winter, but even she was relieved to be inside the warm building and not on the icy streets.

  As she settled into her spot behind the main circulation desk, she tried to let the library’s familiarity soothe her, but to no avail. What was different this Monday morning from all the others she’d spent in the facility? Her week had started out great with her usual walk to work, she’d had a great cup of coffee at the local shop in the building next to her apartment and there weren’t any pesky emails from the central library staff demanding her attention. But she couldn’t shake the sense of danger, the feeling that made her skin crawl and her stomach churn.

  This had to stop.

  Besides reading about ROC, she’d spent too much time learning about the fight Pennsylvania was waging against the heroin epidemic, finding out that Silver Valley had more than its share of opioid ODs and near-ODs. Since one of her closest friends from high school had become a victim of a lethal dose of heroin laced with fentanyl right before Christmas, Portia had questioned everything about her life and the community she held dear.

  She resolved to get lost in the more positive aspects of her job and clicked open the gala files.
Reviewing the guest list to date led to perusing the silent auction items, which always buoyed her spirits. The generosity of the average Silver Valley citizen touched her pragmatic heart.

  “Portia.”

  Portia jumped in her seat, startled by the sudden appearance of Brindle, her assistant.

  Brindle had joined the staff while still pursuing her undergraduate degree at Penn State, Harrisburg and now was on to postgraduate work.

  “What are you doing here so early? And, ah, good morning.”

  Brindle’s mouth twisted into an apologetic grimace. “It’s not that early.”

  Portia looked at the clock. She’d been here for two hours already?

  “Sorry to startle you, but I had to get out of my sister’s house. Her baby was up all night, and I have two exams this week. I’ve been at the diner since four, and I was hoping you were in early today. I left my car in their lot and walked over.” Brindle knew that Portia came in early many days, especially in January, during the weeks before the gala.

  “No problem. As you can see, I came in for the quiet, too.” Brindle was taking night and weekend classes to achieve a master’s degree in library science, and she also knew from firsthand experience how stressful working full-time and pursuing a degree was.

  “I’ll use one of the study rooms if you prefer.” Brindle seemed truly sorry to intrude upon Portia’s space.

  “No, that’s not necessary. I just boiled water for tea, or rather, I did when I came in. It’s in the insulated pitcher. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  They settled into their respective workspaces and Portia’s mind wandered yet again. She’d been doing a lot of this lately. Drifting when she should be getting something done, like finalizing the list of items to be auctioned off for the gala. Instead she’d scared herself half to death.

  Robert hadn’t helped. She’d dated the local politician, helped him organize the personal details of his campaign. She was vehemently opposed to most of his platform, so no way would she help him with the actual campaign events. If she dug deep enough, she had to admit that she’d hoped to change him. Make him at least see her point of view on many issues. But it had never happened. When had trying to change someone else ever worked for her? A snort escaped her and she tried to cover it by sipping her tea. Brindle looked up at her and offered a smile.

  “Sorry. Thinking out loud.” She raised the ceramic mug as if she hadn’t spent another sleepless night tossing and turning, wondering where ROC’s next victim would show up.

  Robert hadn’t supported anything that helped drug addicts, including the fund-raiser she’d done for Silver Valley’s homeless shelter, where she volunteered at least one evening or day per week. She was glad she’d dumped his sorry butt. Unfortunately she’d also found out he’d been messing around with one of his supporters, a local lawyer. Her logical side demanded that his cheating ways would make the breakup that much easier, but it hadn’t. She’d talked it out with her best friend, Annie, and decided to take a break from men for the time being.

  Shoving thoughts of her cheating ex aside, Portia skimmed the morning emails, all the while regularly checking the one monitor dedicated to library security. There were five security cameras in the building, one on each floor and one at each entrance. The back entrance was employees-only and in fact only used as an emergency exit. The screen was divided into quadrants and she’d so far been able to help a senior who’d fallen in the back corner of the cookbook section, break up several different teenaged couples who were clearly aroused by the smell of paper and last fall she’d ushered out a raccoon who’d smelled the tray of cider donuts intended for the toddler Halloween story time.

  But she’d never seen a person completely dressed in dark clothing from head to toe, fully hooded, trying to pry open the back door of the building with some kind of instrument. In broad daylight. Well, if not complete daylight, dawn, as the sun was climbing over the Appalachian Mountains.

  Portia shot out of her chair and made for the back. “Do me a favor and keep an eye on the back exit’s security screen, Brindle. If it looks like anything serious, call 9-1-1 for me.”

  Brindle’s eyes widened and she got up from the worktable and walked over to the monitor. “Will do.” Portia would have laughed at her obvious trepidation but she had to get to the back door and tell the person to knock it off. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to chase interlopers away from the back door. It was an easy place for teens to hang out, next to the 24/7 diner and two buildings down from the pharmacy.

  Even so, she couldn’t remember ever having to stop someone from trying to pry the door open before. The images of the headlines about ROC flashed through her mind and she forced herself to take a deep breath. Yes, Silver Valley was under fire from an established crime ring, but what were the odds that ROC had any interest in the town library?

  * * *

  Ludmila Markova couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, but it was nothing she wasn’t used to. Whether the police or FBI or one of her superiors, someone was always keeping tabs on her.

  So be it. Right now she had to make sure she delivered the goods to the library so that the other worker would know where to find their delivery.

  She’d gained many points with Ivanov, ROC’s local leader, when she’d come up with the communications plan. Because their cellular phone calls were always in threat of being monitored, and the same with email or SMS, they’d needed a way to pass information back and forth. The transportation manifests were complicated, especially the ones involving shipping heroin. Exact instructions were needed for each delivery; each pickup and every gram of product had to be accounted for.

  Let the American law enforcement groups search her group’s technological devices. They’d never find what they were looking for. She was the best, trained by the Federal Security Service, or FSB, in Russia. It had earned her a visa to the US under an assumed identity.

  She hoisted her backpack up higher, walking quickly to the library’s back entrance. At this hour, with the building still closed for another twenty minutes, she’d get in and out with no fanfare. The only problem was the security camera, which she couldn’t risk disabling because she wasn’t certain if it was tied to the local police or not.

  No matter, this was why she wore a ski mask. The camera would never capture her face, not with enough detail for identification. Someone would have to be in her personal space to see her eyes and her mouth, and even that wasn’t always enough. Besides, if anyone got that close, she’d eliminate them. She never left a witness alive. It could spell too much trouble down the road.

  She had to keep this job with Ivanov, her current boss. For just one more operation. Anything was better than going back to Russia and having to be at her government’s bidding again. A one-nighter with an oligarch led to the slick deal that got her here.

  She planned to keep herself out of Russia for the rest of her days. Whether she found a quiet life under an assumed identity in the US or Canada didn’t matter to her. She wanted freedom from the constant killing, always having to take orders from above without question. Whether she’d be able to give up the life that she was the best at in the world was a valid question she needed to address, but not now. For now, she had to remain the trained assassin that she was, the best that ROC could ever hope to have on its side.

  Only one more mission and she’d disappear, go somewhere where no one would find her. Start the free life she’d always dreamed of. Before her own government had killed her family.

  The lock on the door would be an easy pick, but she preferred the much quicker muscle method. She pulled a long knife from her backpack and wedged the thin end into the line that separated the steel door from its frame. Using her body weight as leverage, she began to break into the Silver Valley Public Library. In three more minutes, she’d deposit the laptop where the next operative would find it, where s
he’d told them to look. It would take them all of thirty seconds to download the information onto a USB stick. If library personnel caught them, they could play dumb and claim they’d forgotten to sign the computer out at the front desk.

  Her plan was foolproof, as was everything she did. Two more shoves and the door would open. She was three minutes from completing this part of her mission.

  * * *

  Portia’s breathing ramped up as she passed row upon row of books, DVDs and then periodicals, making her way to the stairs, where she sped down to the children’s level. The exit door was at the base of the stairs and the stairwell reverberated with the sound of metal on metal. The unknown person was still at it, working on the door.

  What the hell?

  Portia pushed the long bar handle in, shoved the door open and squinted against the bright motion detector light. The sun had begun its rise behind the building, as well; it was a sharp contrast to the stairwell’s dim interior.

  “Excuse me, can I help you?”

  The person straightened, and the first thing Portia noticed was the cold emotion in the glacial blue eyes under the winter facemask. The second thing was that the person—a woman, judging from the figure under her jacket, the makeup on her eyes and lipstick on her very red mouth—was holding one of the library’s dozen laptops. Portia knew it was a Silver Valley Library computer from the identification stickers on its cover.

  “Hey, our laptops are for in-house use only. Why are you—”

  Before she finished, the woman shoved Portia in the chest, knocking her backward. The assaulter whirled around and ran toward the railroad tracks that divided the library property from the rest of downtown Silver Valley.

  Portia scrambled to her feet, and against the voice in her brain that screamed for her to wait for the police, she took off after the laptop thief. Silver Valley Library had mysteriously lost ten laptops in the past six months. It ended with her, today. Now. Without hesitating, she took off after the assailant. She hadn’t lettered in track and field at Silver Valley High for nothing.

 
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