with the fly-fishing guides, their wealthy clients, and seasonal residents of this idyllic community.
Most mornings, she could be found sitting on a bench on Central Avenue, sipping from a to-go cup of coffee. Just another young girl in yoga pants, scrolling away on her iPhone or reading a magazine, taking in the warm sun and clean mountain air. Her bench just happened to give her a perfect view of anyone going into or coming out of Flathead Bank & Trust across the street.
Tanya was worried that she wouldn’t be able to identify the man that she’d been asked to locate. From the photos, he looked similar to a decent percentage of the men in town: late thirties, tall, probably bearded. She began to typecast the men she observed, each of them falling into one of a few molds: mustached cowboy locals, scruffy fishing guides, pudgy summer tourists, or obviously wealthy Californians with property nearby. None of them had the hardened look of a combat veteran.
It was late morning, and she was about to give up for the day; she’d offered to work a double and needed to shower before opening for the lunch crowd. She started to walk up the sidewalk toward her home a few blocks away when she saw a Toyota Land Cruiser turn down Central. The off-road SUV looked to be of an older vintage but was in like-new condition and tricked out with an aggressive bumper, lights, and a roof rack.
Interesting.
She leaned against a light pole and pulled her phone back out of her pocket.
The driver was the correct height, about six feet tall, and had broad shoulders and thick arms. He wore jeans, a T-shirt, and hiking boots and looked like he might fit in with the guide crowd. A ball cap and sunglasses shielded much of his face and a dark beard masked what was left. The black glasses looked different from the typical fishing shades so popular in town, but it was his demeanor that gave him away. While nearly everyone else she saw walked with a carefree attitude or had their face buried in their phones, this man’s vigilance set him apart. His head moved constantly, as he took in his surroundings before locking the door of his truck. He reminded her of a fitter version of some of Koychev’s men who sometimes passed through Brighton Beach, hard and serious.
He disappeared into the bank, and she went back to her bench. She opened her camera app and prepared to frame a photograph while looking like she was mindlessly shopping or checking a social media platform. She sat with her knees to her chest to steady the shot and, when he emerged from the bank, she took a burst of photos followed by a video. He opened the back hatch of his SUV and retrieved what looked like a case for a musical instrument, which he carried two storefronts down into a place called Glacier Archery.
Tanya sent a text message with the video and photos to Koychev in New York, then rose from the bench to prepare for the lunch shift.
CHAPTER 19
Whitefish, Montana
REECE DIDN’T HAVE AN exact routine, but he would head to town at least once a week. He would hit the bank, the post office, the archery shop, and the bookstore. He had become a bit of a regular at Loula’s and would often stop in for a late breakfast or lunch during his forays into civilization. One of the waitresses, with an accent he’d narrowed down to somewhere in the Balkans, had a crush on him. She always commented on how polite he was. Despite her best efforts, though, he hadn’t asked her out.
When he walked through the door of the cafe, Tanya knew that she had about thirty minutes until he would be done eating, maybe longer if Elitza was extra chatty. She waited impatiently before making her move, just in case he’d left his wallet or phone in the truck and came out to retrieve it. After an agonizing few moments, she crossed the street with what to anyone but the closest observer appeared to be a black cell phone in her hand. She knelt next to his right rear tire as if to tie her shoe and reached as far under the vehicle as she could. Her view was blocked by the running boards, but they would also prevent anyone from spotting her handiwork without physically crawling under the SUV. She twisted her shoulder and knelt further