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Secret Target
Sergey Baksheev
Translated from the Russian
by Boris Smirnov
Translator Boris Smirnov
© Sergey Baksheev, 2019
© Boris Smirnov, translation, 2019
ISBN 978-5-4496-1535-0
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Annotation
The Noose is a series of detective novels about a woman detective. Protagonist Elena Petelina is a tenacious, creative and decisive woman with an unsettled personal life. Besides investigating crimes, she must solve the problems afflicting her loved ones and delve into the secrets of the past – all while she strives to love and be loved.
Book1: Secret Target
Book2: Dangerous Evidence
Secret Target. The Russian Investigative Committee entrusts its most difficult cases to Detective Elena Petelina. Now the detective faces yet another mysterious murder. Each person associated with the crime has his or her own secret, and somehow one of these secrets involves Elena’s own father as well as her brother who disappeared many years ago…
Copyright © Sergey Baksheev, 2019
1
What’s keeping her? How much longer till that skank gets back?
Pressed flush against the steering wheel, Inna watches the green gates to the private residence. The autumnal dusk helps conceal her car, as does the roadside brush she’s parked behind.
What if I got the address wrong?
She looks around frantically. The address post by the gates reads «24.» The street sign at the intersection reads «Dorozhnaya Street.»
This is the skank’s house alright. She’ll be back from work soon. Come on, what’s keeping her? And what if she’s working late tonight?
Inna checks her watch for the hundredth time. Its hands tick with the urgency of molasses and a new fear grips her tighter than the last.
Maybe it’s me who’s late and she’s home already? Then all is lost!
But at long last something stirs in the vacant, suburban street. Inna wipes the cold sweat from her forehead with the palm of her gloved hand and sinks back into her seat. Through her sunglasses and the steering wheel, her eyes follow the approaching xenon beam as it glides along the fence. A car turns onto the silent street. The tires rustle and the beam splits in two, tracing a smooth arc over the bushes until it comes flush up against the closed gates. Inna recognizes the Volvo’s silhouette. That’s the car she’s been waiting for. In the twilight it looks darker, but as the door opens, the interior light rewards her anticipation.
The car is red.
The automatic gates remain closed.