Assassin Deception (24 page)

Though somewhat cleaner, she still felt uncomfortable. Sighing, Chloe realized with annoyance it was the price she would have to pay for her freedom.

Chloe exited the washroom and almost ran into Mich. The vase teetered within her hands and she grabbed for it, but Mitch was faster. He caught the glass before it could topple to the ground. One of the buttercups slid soundlessly to the floor.

Chloe reached for the vase, heart in mouth, but Mitch kept it from her. He stooped to pick up the fallen flower. He held it under her chin for a moment, smiling, then settled it behind Chloe’s ear.

“Why is it women like flowers so much?”

“They’re beautiful,” Chloe stammered, teeth gritted. Her hands shook slightly and she clamped her arms to her sides, stilling her inner turmoil, fearful for a moment she had been caught.

“So are you. Too bad they don’t make a vase big enough to hold women. I might gather a few myself, to stick on a table and admire.”

“When flowers are picked and confined they eventually die,” Chloe reminded him, feeling a bit confined herself.

“You just pick more.”

“I’m beginning to understand why you annoy your wife,” Chloe couldn’t help saying with a glare of disapproval.

Mitch laughed, obviously amused at her expression, and handed her back her flowers. “I’m hungry,” he announced, still smiling down on her.

Thank God! Chloe thought. She was pressed for time. She wanted to be out of there before dark. “I’ll get started on lunch right away,” Chloe said demurely, and moved off around his large frame as though to appear subservient.

It had been difficult, but Chloe had managed to mix a few of the baneberries with a few of the buttercups. Not many; she wanted him sick, not dead. Thankfully Mitch had no interest in her cooking, especially when she had made him a few entrees to keep his mouth occupied.

Chloe had shaken her head ruefully at him; she had thought Damien ate a lot. She never realized there was more than one man out there who needed to eat lunch before eating
lunch!
Perhaps it was another skill that required a warm-up.

Chloe mixed a small amount of her concoction into the food, disguising it and the bitter taste in a fruity, syrupy sauce. Her heart pounded and her hands shook as she poured it over Mitch’s heaped plate of blueberry pancakes and sausages and served him, as always, first. Mitch wasted no time; he had inhaled over a quarter of his food before Chloe had even sat down.

“How is it?” Chloe asked.

Mitch tried to smile at her with a mouthful while nodding his head vigorously. She took that as a sign he liked it. She sat planning, eating slowly while her mind worked at a furious rate. The cupboards possessed a great amount of food. Maybe she could pack some things in a pillowcase.

Having been through every cupboard, she knew where to find the flashlights, candles and matches. She wondered how cold it would get at night. She hoped Dirk had thought to pack her a sweater, although knowing Dirk, he would. Regardless, she would grab a blanket.

Depending on how incapacitated Mitch was to become, she wondered if she could get her hands on his gun. She might need it against vicious animals, although she shuddered at the thought of not only the animals, but the weapon. She wondered if Mitch had a cell phone and if it was able to get reception surrounded by all of these huge hills.

Dirk would be beyond furious with her when he found out what she had done. A shiver ran through her at the thought. She had never disobeyed Dirk like this. Chloe determinedly stilled her worried thoughts. This was all his fault. He should never had drugged her and taken off with her to begin with! Perhaps this would make them even. Still, she couldn’t help but swallow hard, Dirk was huge, his wrath was fierce, and she didn’t like being on the receiving end of it.

Absently, Chloe noted Mitch waving his coffee cup at her. She rose dutifully to fill it, wondering if he would come up from his plate for air. Again, she settled into her chair and picked up her fork, toying with her own lunch, feeling too nervous to really eat.

“I got stuff to do when I’m done,” Mitch announced, sitting back. He sipped at his coffee, watching her reaction.

Chloe’s felt a moment’s panic. If he locked her up before becoming ill there was no counting on how long she would be trapped before he could stumble his way to her room. She’d been hoping to have at least a day’s head start or longer. A person could get terribly hungry if they were trapped in an escape-proof room.

“Please, Mitch, don’t lock me away. Isn’t there something I can do to help you, anything at all?” she implored.

“Nope.”

“What if I putter around in the kitchen?” she suggested, feeling desperate. She needed at least half an hour. “I know we just had lunch but what if I make you a loaf of freshly baked bread? There isn’t anything that tastes better than warm, just from the oven bread, dripping with butter, crisp on the outside and tender on the inside. I promise it will melt in your mouth. You won’t be sorry.”

* * * *

Mitch thought about it for a moment as though pondering her dilemma. He found he enjoyed the way she pleaded so prettily with him. When his wife wanted something she just took a good whack at him. He could monitor her from the other room while on the computer.

He needed to check in with Dirk. He would want to hear what she was up to, and he doubted he would be impressed if he were able to hear Chloe screaming and pounding from upstairs.

That she would escape wasn’t even really a threat he worried about. He knew she was afraid to risk his wrath. Most intelligent women were…except perhaps his unruly wife, and at least two of his sisters, maybe three. Besides, his mom was the last one to ever make him home-baked bread.

“You make the bread. If you’re a good little girl and I decide dinner is decent enough I might even allow you to watch some TV and cuddle with me later,” Mitch offered graciously and somewhat condescendingly.

Chloe batted her eyelashes at him and smiled gratefully, her insides seething… Arrogant prick! If she were a good little girl indeed! She hoped his insides exploded so badly he would skid off the toilet seat!

* * * *

Mitch moaned; Chloe offered a moan in reply. She had no sooner placed the risen bread in the oven when Mitch stumbled into the kitchen.

Chloe had been sitting at the table, waiting rather impatiently. When she heard Mitch approaching noisily, she laid her head across her arm and whimpered. When Mitch grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back, his somewhat angry expression was mollified when he gazed into her chalk white expression and sorrow, tear-filled eyes.

Chloe had been able to wipe a generous amount of flour over her face and work it in. She looked like death; a small bit of berry juice smeared under her eyes gave her a somewhat ghastly appearance.

A healthy sniff of cut onion caused her eyes to tear effectively, and convincingly. She took labored breaths through her mouth in a pant. She whimpered pleadingly for him to help her. She was frightened, she sobbed.

Mitch had helped her to her stumbling feet and they both flopped onto the couch in the living room, moaning in unison.

* * * *

Mitch held his dizzy head in his large, sweaty hands, his belly rumbling in agony. Never in his life had he felt so sick. He shot a quick glance over to Chloe, who sat weeping, holding her own middle.

“Must have been something we ate,” Mitch grumbled.

He tried to stand and was once more awash with dizziness. He shook his head, attempting to clear it, but it made matters worse. His bottom flopped to the couch and he leaned back, trying to think, his eyes closed. He couldn’t lock Chloe up. If he felt this bad, she must be dying; she was such a little thing. He needed to get a hold of Dirk again. If he could just make it to the computer. Mitch moved cautiously, with agonizing slowness.

“Mitch, I’m cold,” Chloe cried out suddenly.

“Baby, I gotta get us some help. The food must have been tampered with; that means we’ve been made. Too dangerous, gotta secure the house,” Mitch mumbled.

The discussion he’d had previously with Dirk was enlightening. He had never dreamed the deception the man had explained in great agonized detail. He needed to keep Chloe close.

Mitch removed Chloe’s hand, tried to rise, but slumped once more from the effort. The movement exhausted him; he was getting steadily worse. Still he made an effort to yank a blanket around Chloe’s shivering body.

Never in his life had he felt so sick. His head spun with his motion. He wanted to vomit. Perhaps if he could just sleep for a few minutes… He knew he shouldn’t, too dangerous, but just a few…

* * * *

Chloe placed a bucket near the floor beside Mitch. She pulled the blanket up under his chin and settled a pillow beneath his sweaty head. He wasn’t such a bad guy. He was, after all, only following Dirk’s orders. Of course he would believe Dirk over her. She stilled the pang of remorse that filled her; none of this was her fault.

“Mitch,” Chloe said. She shook him slightly, then moved back out of his reach just in case.

* * * *

Mitch stirred; he tried to focus. Chloe’s body wove back and forth before him in a swaying motion. Her face seemed to shift in a surreal way, fading in, then out. Her voice sounded faraway and eerie.

“Mitch, there’s cool water here in the jug for you. I put it in your reach with some of the bread. I’ll lock the door behind me, you’ll be fine. I’m the one who tampered with the food, making you sick, but I swear the bread and water are fine. We haven’t been made. I also have your gun.”

“Trying to kill me?” he rasped, incredulous. His sunken, blackened eyes gazed at her.

“No, just keeping you out of my way. I need to get to James.”

“James needs…needs you away, Dirk says too dangerous for you to be near him,” Mitch stammered.

“I didn’t shoot James, Mitch. Whoever did is still out there. James is in danger.”

“You…danger…”

“No, Mitch, I’m not a danger to him or anyone, I swear.”

Mitch gagged and vomited and Chloe turned red with realization; perhaps she could be somewhat dangerous when she needed to be. Mitch was trying to rise and she realized it was time to go. Chloe reached down and grabbed a white bulging pillowcase filled with various items. She reasoned it would be easier to carry that through the woods than lugging her bulky suitcase.

“Just rest, Mitch, you’ll feel better in a little while,” Chloe lied. She hoped if he thought this would only last a few hours he would wait to track her, thinking he would be able to follow her easily if she only had a few hours' head start.

Chloe slung the pillowcase over her shoulder and grunted. It was heavy. She was unsure where she was or how long it would take her to make her way to a road. She knew she had to try. James would do no less for her.

She needed to prove she was loyal, if for no one else than for him. She had been so hurtful towards him the last time she saw him. She had to see him at least one more time. She wanted to tell him she was sorry and that this time she would listen with an open mind. After all, their family was indeed different from the average family, allowances needed to be made.

“Chloe, wait!” Mitch cried out, trying to reach for her as Chloe turned to go.

“I can’t, Mitch, James needs me. I promise you’ll be fine…and I really am sorry, but this isn’t my fault. Dirk never should have left me here, and he never ever should have considered it was me who shot James.”

Chloe turned and headed for the door. She could hear Mitch struggling to rise to stop her, but he couldn’t. He called for her again frantically, telling her to wait, stop, she would be sorry. Chloe ignored the threat. She walked through the front door and pulled it tightly behind her.