She felt closer to her mother than she’d done since she’d died, standing alone in her studio. Working on the initial drawings her mother had left behind, continuing the thought and flow of the design to its natural conclusion, she felt a connection with her spirit, understanding her mother’s aim, where the unfinished lines should go. She realized that, if it weren’t for Daidan, forcing her to work on the collection, she’d always have avoided it. And she’d never have made that connection with her mother.
After a while Taina held the sketch up to the light as she tried to figure out if she’d got the detailing right. Narrowing her eyes, she inspected the placement of the diamonds and smiled slowly, nodding to herself as she scanned outward to the platinum settings and further to the span of platinum and gold pieces that held it in place. They looked as fragile as gossamer. But they’d be as strong as the diamonds itself. The stylistic influence of her mother was there, but there was something of her, too.
Taina set to work again. The minutes drifted by until she lost track of the time she’d spent there. It was only when the room dimmed that she blinked and looked around. The sky had clouded over and the light had changed in the room. But it wasn’t that that had disturbed her. She could distinctly hear someone moving around downstairs. She froze and her mind immediately returned to the encounter earlier with the Russians in the hotel. She must have forgotten to secure the alarm. She looked around, remembering with a paralyzing fear another time she’d been trapped in a room at the top of a flight of stairs with no way out. She couldn’t let that happen again.
She stepped quietly, avoiding the creaky floorboards, to where the tools were. She picked up a small sharp hammer used for piercing metal and walked behind the door and raised the hammer. This time she’d defend herself.
The door swung open and nearly banged into her. “Taina!” Daidan’s voice echoed around the space. “Taina!” he called again and she could hear the fear in his voice.
“Daidan!”
He swung around. “Thank God, I’ve found you. My men went to the wrong wharf. Given your previous reaction, I didn’t imagine you’d come here. Anyway, what the hell were you doing behind the door?”
“Protecting myself,” she said with a rueful smile. “I thought you were an intruder.”
“I could well have been. It’s not safe for you to be here on your own.”
“You’re obsessed with the idea that someone’s after me. It has to stop, Daidan. Now. I can’t live like this.”
But Daidan didn’t answer. Instead, he stalked over to the window and peered out, being careful to hide behind the curtain so no one could see him. “Come here, Taina. Look out here. What do you see?”
Puzzled, she did as he suggested and came up beside him and looked out. The beautiful buildings framed the trees in the park below, above which a cloudy sky held in the heat. There were more people walking around now, some of whom were tourists taking photographs. “It looks like normal. What am I meant to be looking at?”
“Down there, partly concealed by the trees.”
Her sweeping gaze stopped. There were two people smoking in a studied, nonchalant way. They glanced nervously toward the building from time to time. She shrugged. “So? They could be anybody.” But even as she spoke she felt uneasy. She recognized one of the men. He’d been in the hotel with the Russian group.
“They’re not anybody, Taina. They’re Solntsevskaya Bratva, the Russian mafia. They’re part of the Kuzmich family who own the Chukotka mine.”
“Kuzmich?” Then suddenly she remembered when she’d seen the man in the hotel. It must have been years before when he’d met with her father. She walked quickly away from the window. “Christ!” She sat down at the desk and held her head in her hands. “Christ,” she repeated. Then she shook her head. “But they have interests in businesses in Helsinki—probably here in Katajanokka for all I know.”
“Yes, they have business interests and our business threatens theirs. Our new safety measures have made us popular with buyers and we’ve taken some of their market share. It’s also made their workers more demanding. Which does not make them very happy, to put it mildly.” He turned away from the window and turned to look at her. “Have you any idea what these people are capable of?”
She shook her head. “You’re exaggerating. Surely all that stuff is made up by the media.”
“No, it’s not. You’ve lived too long in a secluded world. It’s my fault. I didn’t want to worry you and protected you too much. It’s time you learned what we’re up against.”