By Storm Chase
Burned out ex-undercover detective Cassidy Stone leaves London for a new life in Moscow, but her past continues to haunt her. Life begins to look up when a favour for the embassy leads her into a lethal ambush, and into the orbit of Dmitri Milyukov, a fun loving millionaire who shares her passion for extreme sports. Cassidy slowly learns to love again – until she stumbles on proof that Dmitri is at the center of a carefully plotted Red Mafia corporate espionage operation aimed at her employer. Worse, there is a gruesome murder in her office, and everyone is convinced Cassidy is the killer…
Murder in Moscow: a thrilling tale of passion, romance, intrigue, betrayal and murder.
Excerpt from Murder in Moscow by Storm Chase
She heard the sound of running feet coming towards her. More trouble, Cassidy thought. If they had reinforcements, she was definitely dead.
The one with the martial arts training was fumbling in his pocket. Frightened he had a gun, Cassidy knew she had no more time for trickery and deception. She went in fast and close and took him in the solar plexus with a swift eagle strike. As he slumped, his hand came up with a knife.
The sight of it produced a surge of fear that provided an extra spurt of strength and determination. Cassidy moved in close and banged her hands over his ears, bursting his eardrums while she kneed him in the balls. He folded like a sack, retching with a high squealing sound.
“Are you all right?” With surprise Cassidy saw it was Dmitri. He moved lightly, stepping over the unconscious man at his feet. Cassidy hadn’t seen him go down. It must have been fast. As her first victim stirred and tried to sit up, Dmitri gave him a casual kick in the ribs. “Stay down,” he ordered. It was a hard voice, used to command. The man slumped instinctively.
Police, Cassidy thought. He must be plainclothes division.
Looking around he smiled at her. “That was great,” he said. “Karate with a bit of Muay Thai improv. Or was it taekwondo? Either way, love it!”
“Thanks,” Cassidy said warily. Having done routine paperwork like converting her drivers’ license and getting her residence card, her experience was that the Moscow police always had their hand out. She wondered how much this would cost her.
Dmitri saw with interest that his redhead was completely unmoved both by the attack or his appearance. She was breathing a little fast but otherwise she looked cool and composed; as if it was completely normal to stand about talking while three muggers were heaving their guts up all over the street. She really was something. He grinned companionably at her. “Let’s get this scum cleared away, huh?”
He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Instantly there was an answering call.
Shit, Cassidy thought. She didn’t want to be mixed up with official reports even though clearly the handover was off.
Dmitri saw her wariness and thought she might not remember him. Men were probably trying to get her attention all the time. “Remember me? I’m Dmitri. We met earlier. Can I buy you a drink?”
Cassidy stared at him. “What?”
“A drink. I really wanted to ask you to dance but after this you must be thirsty, so drinks first and a dance later?”He was drunk, Cassidy decided. No sober man would ask her for a drink while stepping around three semiconscious, retching, groaning men. Dmitri looked sober but he must be plastered. Cassidy stifled a groan. A clandestine meet that had been a complete fuck-up and now a tanked up copper looking for a date. Terrific. This just couldn’t get worse.
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