Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [131]
"Who were our parents?"
"Natalia and Sergei Markov."
"Natalia Markov, the ballerina? She was our mother? That can't be right. You must be mistaken."
"I'm not," Julia said. "You really didn't know? No one ever told you that you resembled her in any way?"
Lost in thought, Elena didn't say anything for a long moment. "I can't believe it. Natalia Markov. No one ever put the two of us together. But then, why would they?"
"You must have inherited her talent," Julia suggested. "I don't know if I did. I never had an opportunity to dance, but it never really spoke to me, either. I've always loved music more than dance."
"What happened to her? And to our father? How did they die?" Elena asked.
"In an explosion at the house. Our father worked for the Russian government. Apparently he offered to exchange information for freedom."
"Who took us out of the country if our parents were dead? And why didn't they leave us with our grandparents? Didn't we have grandparents?"
Julia hadn't thought that far back. "I don't know about our grandparents. I know our great-grandparents were tied to ballet and music, but they were probably dead before we were born. I was told that U.S. agents smuggled us out of the country somehow; the details have yet to be explained to me."
"They couldn't leave you there after your parents died," Alex interjected. "You probably would have been killed. In fact, I hate to speed up this reunion, but you both may be in danger. And we need to discuss how we're going to address that possibility."
"What do you mean?" Elena asked. "How could we be in danger?"
"My photo was published in the newspaper in San Francisco, with an article announcing that I was the orphan girl," Julia explained. "Then both my apartment and Alex's were ransacked. Someone tried to mug me, and we've been followed. It's all very disturbing. It appears that someone, whoever killed our parents, thinks I have something of value, some sort of family treasure that was going to support our parents and their new life here."
"What kind of a treasure?" Elena inquired with a bemused shake of her head. "This is such an amazing story."
"No one seems to know exactly what the treasure is. When I found out about you, I knew I had to warn you. Since they know I'm alive, it stands to reason they know or suspect you are, too."
"I certainly don't have a treasure," Elena said. "I don't have much of anything."
"I have two things from our past." Julia reached into her handbag and pulled out the necklace. "We each had one of these, remember? You were wearing yours in the picture."
"Yes, of course," Elena said. "I still have it."
"I also found this matryoshka doll." Julia set the doll on the coffee table. "Some of the pieces are missing. Do you have them?"
A light sparked in Elena's eyes. "I do. I'll get them." She went into her bedroom and returned a moment later with the necklace and the doll. "One of my foster parents tried to take these away from me once. I had to fight to get them back. They were all I had left of my family. I wasn't going to give them up. Sometimes I slept with them under my pillow just in case one of the other kids tried to steal them."
Julia frowned. It didn't sound as if Elena had had a very good life.
Elena opened the largest doll, which belonged to Julia, and said, "I want to put them together so they fit right."
As she did so, Julia flashed back to a similar scene. Her mother had taken the dolls apart on her bed. She'd said she wanted them each to have some dolls to take with them on their trip. So she'd divided them, every other one, then handed each of them a set of the dolls. She'd told them a story… What was that story?
"She told us about these dolls," Julia said slowly. "Do you remember?"
Elena thought for a long moment. "She said the doll had been painted for her grandmother."
"She was a dancer, too," Julia said. "Tamara Slovinsky. You followed in their footsteps, Elena. You lived their legacy." Elena blinked quickly, and Julia realized too late the pain her words had created. "I'm sorry. I forgot."
"No,