Perfect Assassin (8 page)

“Thirty?”

“No.” Jacy stopped in the doorway and turned around. She was smiling, and he shook his head, smiled back. “Need a pain pill to sleep?”

“No. I’m fine.”

She certainly was fine. A fine-looking young gir…woman.

“Don’t get up without my help.”

“So if I call, you’ll come running?”

“I’ll come limping. Remember, I’m disabled.”

“You were offended by that?”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Good, then you should be careful when you criticize someone else.”

Jacy frowned. “I didn’t do that.”

“Yes, you did. You think I’m skinny.”

“What?”

“You said at supper that a stiff wind would knock me over.”

“That’s not the same as skinny, honey. You’re far from that. Fine-boned, not skinny.”

Her smile got bigger. “Then you like how I look?”

“You’re perfect. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Holic mentally made a list of the things he would attend to the minute he escaped from Clume: a hot bath, the hard-on between his legs and feeding his hungry belly with a rare steak. In that order.

And he would have all three very soon. The Chameleon had given him his promise.

But first he would make good on his promise. He still had a few cards up his prison-uniform sleeve, and he always finished the game.

After all, a man’s word and his loyalty were his most prized possessions.

The Chameleon was a very smart man. He would not throw him to the wolves.

He unwrapped the bandages from his hands, and slowly moved his fingers. He was getting the feeling back. The pain was less every day. He smiled. Yes, very soon he would have his hands back and then…

Let Merrick and his doctors think he was finished. A useless turd in the bottom of the toilet. Soon they would realize they had made another deadly mistake.

Since he’d been caged like an animal his hands had begun to heal, the feeling slowly returning.

“Yes, Merrick, the game is far from over. In fact, a new game is on the horizon.”

Holic picked up the bandages and wrapped his hands once again.

Billy Mason Crow Feather showed up two days later. He showed up hungry, inviting himself for breakfast.

He had prepared a list of questions, but he also had some news to share.

“Sorry I didn’t get over here a few nights ago, Moon. I was in Missoula and didn’t get back home until midnight. But I think I found out who she is.”

The news had Moon stepping back and letting Billy rob a piece of bacon off the plate next to the stove. It was early and he was the only one up.

“Help yourself, Billy. You always do. Don’t be shy.” Jacy headed to the table with three plates and spun them into place.

Billy poured himself a cup of coffee, then made himself comfortable at the table after stealing another piece of bacon. He pulled out an airline passenger list.

“I checked all the folks on the flights into Missoula the day she took off with Marty. All are accounted for except one. Alun Beltane. She flew in from Canada: Edmonton, Alberta, to be exact. It’ll take some time to search further, but for now that’s what I’ve got. But if you want to take it from there, then I can concentrate on the crash itself. I’m up to my elbows in paperwork on this one. That plane should never have been allowed to take off.”

“I can do that,” Jacy agreed, feeling eager now that he had a place to start.

Alun… It was an unusual name.

He had slipped into her room last night and watched her sleep. She had tossed and turned, mumbled more European phrases. She didn’t wear any rings, and she appeared too young to have a husband, but anything was possible.

“Did you hear me, Moon?”

“What?”

“I said, I’d like to talk to her. I’ve got some questions.”

“She’s not up yet. I’ll go wake her. Breakfast is ready anyway.”

Jacy left Billy and seconds later entered Prisca’s room after a solid rap. She was still sleeping, curled into a protective ball. He limped to the window and opened the curtains, then slid up the shade. She never moved.

“Alun,” he said softly, trying the name out, wondering if it would wake her. It didn’t.

He moved to the bed and sat down beside her. A few strands of hair were across her face and he brushed them aside.

“Hey, wake up.”

She blinked open her eyes, moaned, a moment of confusion on her face. “Moon?”

“It’s me. Billy’s here.”

“I’ll need to dress.”

“Can you manage?”

She tossed the sheet aside. She was again wearing his red flannel shirt. When she had changed, he didn’t know. Or why. It hung on her small shoulders and the top two buttons were open.

She had slight breasts—he remembered that and his eyes were drawn to the pale skin.

“I have a pair of jeans around here somewhere.”

He stood and searched out the jeans. She dropped her pretty legs over the side of the bed. Jeans in hand, he came back and bent down to slip her legs into the holes.

She was moving more slowly than yesterday and he worried about that.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“My muscles are so stiff.” She rubbed her neck. “I could soak in a hot bath for an hour.”

“After breakfast.”

“All right.

“You’ll have to help me stand.”

He leaned forward, put his hands on her slender waist. “Put your arms around my neck, and give me your weight.”

She looked down at her jeans. The legs were hiding her feet. “Are you sure?”

No, he wanted to say. The last thing I need is you against me, and my hands moving up your bare legs and sexy ass. But again he didn’t relay what was going on inside his head.

“We can do this,” he said, “trust me.”

She smiled, and he smiled back.

Slowly she slid her arms around his neck, and then he was standing and moving her jeans up her thighs and over her small butt as she dangled against him.

“You remember Billy?”

Pris nodded as Jacy carried her into the kitchen. She was nervous as to what she was going to hear, but she could and would get through this. To cause suspicion at this point would be a disaster.

“Yes, I remember,” she said and let go of Moon’s neck as he sat her on the kitchen chair across from the BLM supervisor.

Before she knew it a cup of tea was in front of her and Moon was back at the stove dishing up scrambled eggs.

Matwau stalked into the room, sniffed Billy, then came and sat next to Pris. She reached out and stroked his head and then said, “What did you come to ask me? Moon said you had some questions for me.”

“You still having a hard time remembering things.”

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

“I did some research on a number of incoming flights into Missoula. Marty always worked out of there. The airport flight plan has his plane flying out at ten-twenty that night. I checked the passenger lists on the larger flights that came in. I went back two days prior. All the passengers were accounted for except for one.”

While Billy scratched the large bald spot on the top of his head, and munched on a piece of toast, Pris tried to remain calm, aware Moon’s eyes were on her now that he’d delivered breakfast to the table.

What was Billy about to tell her? She didn’t dare look worried. She should look hopeful. She went through the motions.

“The missing woman’s name is Alun Beltane. Does the name sound familiar? Ring any bells, darlin’?”

It certainly did, but confident that it was a name with no history, she said, “I don’t know. But if you say that’s my name, then it must be.”

Billy scratched his bald spot again, then took a sip of coffee. “Well, I’m pretty sure that’s your name. Until we get our hands on concrete proof we’re not a hundred percent sure. But it feels right. You flew in from Edmonton.”

“Edmonton?”

“That’s in Canada.”

She nodded as if he was telling her something she didn’t know. She would play this out, feeling more confident now. It would be difficult to verify a name she had put together from two gravestones in an unkempt cemetery.

She’d spent three days in the city of Edmonton procuring a number of new identities. After money had changed hands, Prisca Reznik had become Alun Beltane, and three other people as well. She had learned the technique from a master. Otto had been able to get them in and out of every country in Europe. Whatever they had needed, he’d seen to it, and explained how it was done. Otto had once said, “When money is no object you can buy anything your heart desires.”

She knew how to play the game. After all she was her father’s daughter, and she’d read through his instructions countless times.

“Every head accounted for,” Billy was saying again. “I talked to a bunch, personally.”

“Are you saying I live in Canada?”

“Time will tell.”

What did that mean? Pris wondered. And what did that look that Billy had just given Moon mean?

“So that’s what I have so far. Now then, what do you remember about the crash? When you regained consciousness?”

In this Pris decided to tell the truth. If he thought she was Alun Beltane, that gave her time.

“When I was conscious, and I don’t know how long I was out, I couldn’t move. I was cold and I thought I was going to die. I lay there for hours while the plane burned. I should have tried to get the pilot out, but I couldn’t move.”

“It wouldn’t have done much good. From what we can tell he died on impact. If you were in your seat belt you must have unhooked it and crawled out.”

“I don’t remember that.”

The fear of dying washed over her again, and she relived that frightful moment when she’d thought she was going to die. Something must have shown in her face because suddenly Moon was on his feet, his hand cupping her shoulder.

“That’s enough, Billy. She doesn’t remember, so let’s leave it alone for now.”

“But I got a report to write, Moon, and—”

“Start writing it from the information you have.”

His tone was hard-boiled, and the BLM supervisor clamped his mouth shut. Nodded. “Okay.”

“Now are you having a second helping of breakfast, or are you late for another appointment?”

“No, I got another stop to make. I want to talk to Koko, and if I time it right she’ll ask me to stay for lunch.”

“What do you need to talk to her about?” Jacy asked.

“There’s a few holes in her story I got to clear up.” He stood, his eyes locking with Prisca’s once more. “If you remember anything, darlin’, let me know.”

When Billy left, Jacy said, “You didn’t eat much.”

“Maybe later. I think I’d like to take that bath now.”

“You’ll have to keep your leg out of the water.”

“I think I can manage. Help me to the bathroom?”

And he did help her, carrying her as he had before, while Pris clung to him, trusting that if she needed more help, all she would have to do was call out his name.

Koko arrived at Moon’s cabin midafternoon. She brought with her a homemade pie, and a special basket for
sisttsi nan.
Her vision surrounding the young woman had continued, only she was on a different mission at the moment.

“How is our little bird today?”

Koko ignored her grandson’s scowl and stepped past him. She looked around and smiled at the clean home he lived in.

Issohko
had become a very self-sufficient man over the years and her pride swelled. He’d been a wild and reckless young boy in his youth. Had seemed to seek out trouble on every corner. But the boy had grown into a man, and she’d given thanks in her prayers for the man named Merrick for that. He’d reached inside her grandson and pulled out the goodness. He’d seen the real Jacy Moon Madox behind the angry young half-breed, and she would forever be grateful.

Oh, her grandson wasn’t perfect, no one was. He still had a quick-trigger temper, and he embraced danger like an old friend—but in a different way now.

“What’s in the basket?”

She glanced at the covered basket. “It’s for s
isttsi nan.
Alun. Billy says that’s her name. A pretty name, but…”

“But what?”

Koko shrugged, then set down the basket on a narrow table by the door and removed her pink scarf. “Be a gentleman and help me off with my coat,
issohko.
”

Jacy did as she asked and hung it on the coat tree next to the table. When he reached for the basket, Koko snatched it and hooked it on her arm.

“The pie is yours. You’ll know what to do with that.”

“Well
our bird
went back to bed. I checked on her a few minutes ago and she’s curled up in a ball like she intends to hibernate the rest of the winter. I’m a little worried. Maybe she has internal injuries. Vic could have missed something.”

“She’ll be fine very soon.” Koko walked into the living room, noticed the fire glowing, and she moved toward it to warm up. “It feels good in here. I got a chill walking over.”

“You should have called. I would have come for you.”

“It’s good to walk. It keeps my old joints loosened up. My arthritis warns me that the storm that missed us yesterday will come tomorrow.”

“I’ll get her up,” Jacy said. “She’s been in bed long enough.”

“She will feel better in the morning.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Which room is she in?”

“What’s in the basket, Koko?”

“Nothing that would interest you. A few things. Things men don’t think about unless it’s affecting them and their own needs.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Think about it. You’re a smart boy.”

His eyebrows arched and Koko knew he understood what she was telling him without getting specific.

“And how the hell do you know she needs
that?
Come to you in the rocker this morning?”

“As a matter a fact, it did. Could account for why she’s been in bed hibernating all day, as you call it. Now, which room?”

“One door past mine.”

“Put the teapot on.” Koko pulled a bag of herb tea from her pocket and tossed it at him. “This will help her to feel better.” Then she headed down the hall.

She rapped on the door, then walked into the bedroom. As Moon had said,
sisttsi nan
lay on her side with her knees drawn up. But she wasn’t sleeping.