Читать книгу Perfect Assassin - Wendy Rosnau - Страница 11

He felt betrayed, but mostly he felt an overwhelming amount of guilt. He should have seen this coming. Her skills were flawless, but her heart….

Though she was Holic’s daughter, and had his blood flowing through her veins, he had always felt she was more like her mother Mady, a gentle spirit. And it was that wholesome spirit that he had fallen in love with.

Da, he loved her. No one would ever know how much, or how much he needed to have her return that love.

Otto pulled up the collar on his leather coat, then brought the pale-gray scarf he’d given Prisca to his nose. Her sweet scent collected around him. It soothed him and made him anxious at the same time.

When he had found her gone, he had also found the cashmere scarf. He had vowed in that moment, as he’d slipped it around his neck, not to take it off until he found her and returned it to her.

Three months ago when Holic had given him the assignment as his daughter’s keeper it had felt as though he’d been given the keys to the king’s castle and all the golden eggs in the cellar. And with the gift, suddenly his life had purpose. Prisca was his purpose. To guide and protect, nurture and love.

That was the best part. His reward in return was to be close to the woman he loved. To enjoy a life where every minute of every day put him in her company.

He had loved Miss Pris forever, from the moment he had seen her at age ten. He’d been twenty and yet he had known that she was the one. He’d waited and kept his eye on her as she grew to become an adult, and in that time his love had grown, too.

Why had she left? Had she left the mission, or had she left him?

Their work was timely. It was critical that they stay on schedule. She knew that. Knew the importance of each kill. They had talked daily about their agenda. The kill-file was like a detailed map. If they followed the plan to the letter it would be as easy as shooting ducks out of the water at a summer carnival.

The only catch to the entire mission was to stay on schedule. One delay made the file useless.

He had called her phone when he’d realized she was gone. When she hadn’t answered, he had left several messages. But she hadn’t answered any of them.

Why? What had happened? Had she willingly left him?

The thought of her hurt made him crazy. He would never forgive himself if he had allowed harm to come to her.

Did she know how worried he was? How he hadn’t been able to sleep since she had left?

He had been careful not to push her too hard in the work. He’d also been careful not to show his feelings too much. She was young, and he hadn’t wanted to scare her. But he often wrestled with the idea of telling her.

Secrets were the seeds to unhappiness. That’s what his father used to say. It would be good to share his feelings with her. It could bring them closer. Maybe she felt the same and she was just waiting for him to make the first move.

He needed her to love him as he loved her.

Otto walked past the flight schedule in the airport and saw a dozen delays. Thankful that none of them affected him, he headed for gate seven. His destination, Poland.

He raised the gray cashmere scarf and brushed it slowly across his cheek. Then brought it to his nose and inhaled sharply. Like a stiff snort of cocaine, the scent of sweet ginger and spice energized him and refueled his cause, as well as his love for Miss Pris.

Prisca woke up in a warm bed, the smell of bacon heavy in the air. She woke up slowly, groggy, aware she was sharing her pillow with something furry.

She sat up, startling awake whatever was sleeping next to her. The fur pile jumped up with a growl, and Prisca screamed.

The door burst open and that startled her, too, and she clutched the blanket to her bare breasts as a stranger appeared with a metal spatula in hand.

“What the hell is wrong?”

“That’s what’s wrong,” she hollered back, because he’d shouted the question at her.

“Weeko, dammit, Moon told you to stay out of here.”

“Weeko? What’s a weeko?”

“That’s her name.”

“What is she?”

“A raccoon. You’ve never seen one before?”

“No. Does it bite?”

“If she’s cornered. I’ve been bitten a few times.”

“Then get it out of here.”

The stranger scooped the raccoon under his arm and started out the door.

“Wait.”

He turned. “Yeah?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Vic Krandle.”

“Moon’s friend?”

“That’s right. I worked on your leg last night. You don’t remember?”

“Vaguely.”

“That’s because I gave you a shot to put you out while I sutured your leg.”

Moon’s friend was average in weight and thin. He wore fashion jeans and a lemon-yellow sweater. He didn’t look like anyone Koko’s grandson would be friends with. He had a city flair about him, his hair short, and his hands looked as though they hadn’t ever been dirty once.

“Where’s Moon?”

“He left before dawn with the BLM to go back up to the crash site.”

“BLM?”

“Bureau of Land Management.”

Prisca stiffened. “They’re investigating the crash?”

“That, and bringing down the remains of Marty Stollen.”

Prisca looked away.

“Sorry. Billy mentioned he would be by to talk to you as soon as they got things settled on the mountain.”

“Today?”

“No, I don’t think so. Moon talked like he might not be back until tomorrow. But who knows. He said you don’t remember your name. Any change this morning?”

“No.”

Prisca turned and stared out the window, not wanting to remember anything about those terrifying minutes when she knew they were going to crash into the mountain.

“You all right?”

She looked back at Vic Krandle. “I’d like to get out of bed, but I need some clothes.”

“You didn’t come with clothes. I don’t know if you remember that or not, but don’t worry. We’ll get you some eventually. But for now, Moon left you a shirt of his.” He pointed to the red plaid flannel that hung on the log bedpost.

She eyed the shirt, then scowled at Vic. “That’s all there is?”

“Your left ankle is pretty swollen. You won’t be up and around for a while. Best to stay off it as much as possible.”

“I would prefer a doctor’s opinion on that.”

Pris was anxious to get out of there. If they were investigating the crash they might find her missing bag. Depending on how thorough they were, they might discover her secret.

“I’m a doctor, of sorts. A physical therapist, actually. But I spent a year’s internship in New York before I found my calling. There will be a scar on your leg, but I did my best.” He started for the door. “Moon will be back with Koko before long. Just sit tight, and don’t worry about anything. When the man gets back he’ll work on finding out who you are.”

“The man?”

He stopped and turned around. “Moon. I’ve learned over the months I’ve been here that there isn’t much he can’t do. Say, how old are you? You look pretty young.”

“I’m… I don’t remember.”

This game was getting too hard to play. She needed to escape, only how and when? If she had her cell phone she would break down and call Otto. Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t have it with her. What would she tell him?

“Where am I?”

“Montana.” The raccoon started to squirm under his arm, and he dropped the animal outside the door and she scurried away.

“Yes, but where exactly?”

“On a lake called Two Medicine.”

“That doesn’t help much.”

“I guess we’re about a hundred miles south of the Canadian border.”

Canada. She was close to Canada. The thought revived her. That’s where she would escape to. Soon, very soon.

“I’m from D.C. I was planning on going home today. Moon showing up last night with you changed my plans. But I guess I don’t mind. This place has started to grow on me. The man, too. He’s ornery, but smarter than most, and tougher than anyone I’ve ever worked with.”

“Worked with?”

“He wasn’t ever supposed to walk again after his accident. I moved in to rehabilitate him.”

“Is that why he limps?”

“He was in a wheelchair for months, but he beat the odds. No surprise. As I said, he’s one tough sonofabitch. You hungry?”

“I could eat something.”

“I’ll bring you in a tray. Then we’ll talk about your injuries and what you can expect in the next few days.”

Jacy was relieved to see his grandmother at the crash site when he, Billy and Tate arrived with the BLM crew. They had followed the trail she had promised to leave for them.

He had been thinking about her, had worried all night—in between worrying about the woman who hadn’t let go of him the entire trip down the mountain.

He understood her concern for the young woman—Koko was a caring soul. More generous than anyone he knew. She took on the problems of the world as if they were her own. But he was pretty sure she hadn’t told him everything about her vision. She was keeping something to herself and he wanted to know why and what she was holding back.

He looked over the site. The plane was pretty much gone, scrap metal and charred ash smoldering in the crisp morning air. It would be hard to say what had caused the accident, but there would be a thorough investigation. The plane wasn’t that old, but it had seen a lot of miles, with mostly thrift maintenance. Any number of things could have caused the aircraft to go down.

“His distress call was generic,” Billy said. “He was losing altitude. Nothing more.”

The crew started to go to work, and Jacy limped over to his grandmother who sat cross-legged in front of a small fire with her eyes closed. He crouched down next to her and touched her shoulder. She blinked open her eyes and when she looked up at him, she smiled.

“Good to see you, Grandson. Our little bird is safe?”

“She’s at the cabin with Vic.” He studied Koko’s face, said, “So what’s going on? What haven’t you told me?”

“Things aren’t clear yet. I’m still seeing pictures in my mind. But I’m sure it will all make sense soon enough.”

“Yesterday you seemed anxious to return to the crash site.”

“I did want to spend some time here, but sisttsi nan needed better care than I could give her, so I chose to start down the mountain. I didn’t want to leave Marty. His spirit was troubled.”

“Marty?”

“He was afraid at the end. I felt it. I have prayed for his spirit to take flight. For peace on his journey. He soars now with the eagles.”

Jacy fastened his eyes on a backpack. “And that?”

“It’s sisttsi nan’s bag. I found it over there.” Koko pointed a distance away from the airplane rubble. “It must have been thrown from the plane. Her personal things and clothes.”