Hidden Trump (Bite Back 2) (28 page)

“Hey, full moons are good. Much better light to go running in the woods.” There were some background noises. “Hold on a second.”

I could hear him speaking to someone, promising to be out in a couple of minutes. Then he came back on.

“I gotta go. The client is back on board. I just want to be sure they’re going to stay that way. I’m back in Denver tomorrow, and I’ve set up a meeting with the alpha in the morning.”

He gave me the address of a ranch off the Deer Creek road, out near the national parks, southwest of the city.

“Amber, this is a very bad time,” he warned.

“It’s never a good time.”

“Just give the alpha some leeway, okay? His name’s Felix Larimer.”

“Alex, I’m not accusing Felix of anything—”

“You are, whether you mean to or not.”

“What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is the Athanate poking their noses into our business when it suits them and freezing us out when it doesn’t. Athanate making decisions on behalf of the whole paranormal community without consulting anyone else, and then demanding accountability from us. Taking and never giving. The world doesn’t revolve around the Athanate concerns, Amber.”

“Ouch. Sorry. I’ll be nice. And I’m not there as a rep for the Athanate.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off on you. It will help if you make it clear you’re just there personally. Look, gotta go.”

“Are you coming with me?”

“I’ll be there. See you tomorrow.”

We signed off and I sat thinking it through.

Hmm. ‘Be there’ rather than ‘come with.’

There was some justification in what he said about Athanate, at least in the way I’d be perceived. Maybe he had a point that Athanate tended to think the world revolved around them. Diana hadn’t made any mention of Were or Adepts in her plans to talk to the government.

I didn’t want to make trouble for Alex with his pack.

There was a text message on my cell, ordering me back to Haven. It was from Tom, who quoted it as coming from Skylur. Well, the decoy was running. I deleted the message.

I wasn’t as late as I feared. I got there just as Jen’s driver, Kingston, was emptying some bags from the trunk of her car. She’d been shopping and I saw she’d even had Tullah in tow.

“Another new car, honey?” Jen asked.

“It’s just on loan for a couple of days. Am I late?” I said.

“You’re early,” Jen said as we kissed cheeks. “Hell, early enough we can decide where to go for dinner.”

Tullah was quiet. She must have known where I’d been, and I guessed that was the reason. I would have to talk to her privately later.

“Why not eat in?” I said as we walked in.

“My treat.”

Now Jen and I would have to talk. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford it. She had to be one of the richest people in Denver. It was all about my pride, and the sting when my sister had accused me of being dependent on Jen. Also, if I argued it and paid, it’d have to be on my card and I didn’t doubt the FBI would be tracking that if they were bugging my cells.

“You can’t just keep taking me out for meals. And I haven’t got anything to wear,” I said.

Tullah suddenly moved off down the hall. “I’ll go change,” she called over her shoulder.

Kingston came back from the other way. “All done, Ms. Kingslund.”

“Thanks, Kingston. That’s it for today. See you tomorrow, usual time.”

He slipped out the front door, and Jen took my hand and pulled me, protesting, along to the guest suite.

I realized why Tullah had run off. Jen hadn’t been shopping for herself.

“No, Jen. You can’t keep doing this.” I wasn’t really angry. Not really. I understood it wasn’t her fault. The total cost of all the clothes she had bought me probably meant as much to her financially as it would for me to buy Tullah a coffee. She just didn’t see that there was a difference. “Can’t you see the problem?”

“No, honey, all I could see was you don’t have any clothes left.” Now she was angry with me. There was more than a lack of understanding there. I could see a frustration boiling underneath. It wasn’t the cost, but this meant so much to her, and I needed to puzzle it out, quickly. The air felt dry as tinder, as if a spark might set it off.

“What do you want me to do?” she snapped. “How can I make it better if you won’t let me?” Her blue eyes seemed lit from within. She was seconds from blowing up.

I ran out of smart words, and I did the thing I knew I really shouldn’t do, because, despite that, it was what I wanted to do. I slipped my arms around her. Her body was stiff.

“I don’t need you to do anything, Jen. It doesn’t need making better.”

The breath left her and with it, all the tension from her body. Her hands slid over my back, and I closed my eyes.

“Sorry,” she whispered against my neck, lips like butterflies on my skin.

I smiled.

“What?” She pinched me gently.

“Just something totally inappropriate and cheesy I nearly said.”

“You can’t do that, honey. Tell me,” she said, “or the dinner’s off.” Hidden in a joke, she was asking if it was all right to go out, and I guess, having retreated from arguing about the clothes, I might as well capitulate on everything.

“Okay, we’ll go, but I choose where.”

“Done. That doesn’t get you out of telling me what you were thinking, sneaky.”

“Just how lovely you look when you’re angry. I did warn you it was cheesy.”

She giggled. “Really?”

“Yeah. Take it from me, that is really cheesy, I promise you.” She hit me. Luckily, it’s difficult to punch someone you’re hugging.

“You going to try some of the clothes on, honey?”

I could imagine getting my clothes off, but I was having difficulty imagining getting others back on in a hurry. And she hadn’t said anything that made me think she’d wait outside.

“Shy?” Her face looked so innocent.

I laughed. “After ten years in the army? No, Jen, not body shy. But actually, I do need you to do something for me.” I ran my fingers up into her hair, enjoying the feel of it. Little shivers ran down my body. If I didn’t stop this soon, I wasn’t going to be able to. I kissed her forehead. “I need you to wait until after the weekend, and I can explain everything about me, before we take it any further.”

She looked up at me, flushed but resigned. “Okay, honey.” I guess she’d gotten used to me being strange, and asking strange things. Her hands sank to hold my hips and rested there. Her teeth nervously worried at her bottom lip.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m not going to change my mind. I know we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”

I tilted my head and looked at her, wondering. She knew about werewolves; part of her case had involved Alex’s pack. And I guess, like many things, once you’ve opened your mind, all kinds of other thoughts present themselves. Had she figured out what I was? At least approximately.

“So,” she said carefully, “do I miss you on nights with a full moon?”

I giggled. “I’m not playing twenty questions, but moonlighting is strictly Hollywood.” Before I could shut my mouth, my little demon made me say, “You might get me to howl, though.”

She looked up at me, big blue eyes blinking. “Why, honey, whatever do you mean?” Butter wouldn’t melt, etcetera.

I persuaded her to go off and change into something more casual while I picked out an outfit from the clothes she had bought me. She’d nailed it on the size and her taste was excellent. Not a single price was left on the clothes, but I could imagine. At the end of it, though, I was still in jeans and a shirt, just way upscale.

I was out before Jen, and Tullah was waiting in the sitting room. She smiled a little at the clothes. “That went way better than it might have, then,” she said.

She was still subdued.

“What’s up?” I asked, sitting beside her. I assumed she was expecting me to launch into a lecture from her parents.

I could see her check that Jen wasn’t around yet. She took a deep breath. “How well do you know Alex?”

A little chill settled in my stomach. “Not well at all. Not really. Why?”

 “I shouldn’t have gotten involved, Amber.” She rubbed her face. “But when you said that Alex’s old girlfriend had died, I had to check. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Check what?”

“There’s no death certificate,” said Tullah. “She’s officially listed as missing.”

I struggled to stay calm. “Hope was a Were too, I’m pretty sure. There are many reasons that it might not be a good idea for a human coroner to see her.”

“Yeah. It’s probably nothing, and I know you can take care of yourself. I had to tell you though. I’m sorry.”

“You did right, kiddo.” I wasn’t going to worry about this tonight. I would ask Alex tomorrow and he’d explain to me. Fine.

I gave her a hug just as Jen came in. Thankfully, my problems didn’t suddenly increase. Jen had figured out my relationship with Tullah, and all I got was a whisper in my ear when Tullah was on the phone making the reservation.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it was nothing really.”

Tullah was booking us in to Lario’s. My choice and the steaks were to die for.

“Is that your hand on my butt?” I murmured.

She sighed. “Just checking the fit, honey. Did I get it right?”

“Feels good,” said my demon. “The fit, I mean.”

She chuckled wickedly and then behaved herself as we piled into the Jeep. After making sure cell numbers were up to date, I let the guards stay at Manassah.

Lario made a fuss of me. I hadn’t been in for a month. Well, I couldn’t afford to eat there regularly, even with the discount I got. With kisses on cheeks all around, he ushered us to a corner table and let the wait staff loose on us. I doubt Lario noticed it was Jen; he wasn’t interested in much outside of his restaurant, but the staff knew who she was and the service zinged.

The steak and the wine did the job of unwinding us all. So much that I ended up agreeing to go out with Jen the following evening, not to a restaurant, but to the site of her new Quarter Horse race track. It was out towards Golden, on the west side of Denver. Although the stands and facilities would be a long time coming, the Quarter Horse Association wanted to run some inaugural races to celebrate. Jen had to attend the planning for a media ceremony formally signing over the site. I groaned inwardly; I had just agreed to go to a business meeting.

On a completely different topic, the meal turned out to be a gold mine for me. Jen mentioned in passing that she was considering buying some art from a gallery owned by one Floyd Underwood.

Tullah had read my update on the Quinns’ case, including the strong suspicion that Underwood had been responsible for the theft of the medal. Without so much as a glance in my direction, Tullah became fascinated by Underwood’s gallery and the range of his collections. The wine worked on Jen as well, and she chatted, happily and indiscreetly. I felt several twinges of guilt, but hey, it wasn’t me asking the questions.

“…and you wouldn’t believe the private military collection he keeps in his office.”

“Military? Like medals and so on?”

“Yeah. He showed me a couple. Not my thing, but he has pretty much every medal type ever awarded.”

Tullah, you just earned yourself a stripe.

I simply knew that the medal would be in his private collection, in his office, at the Keynes building in Capitol Hill.

Back at Manassah, Tullah headed off to bed while Jen poured herself a brandy nightcap.

“Not for you, honey?” She held up my favorite rum.

I shook my head.

“Heading out again?” Her voice was flatter. Not so happy.

“I have to go check out something on a case,” I said. Another late night, but it made sense for creeping around the old bowling alley. I changed the topic. “You know, it’s not secure enough here.” I tested that the patio doors were locked. Through them I could see the larch border stirring in the wind and the distant lights of the Country Club twinkling. “Maybe you should get one more of Victor’s guys back to patrol the grounds?”

“Enough guards. But all the more reason for you to be here.” She sipped her brandy. “That’s when I feel secure.”

I didn’t rise to the bait. Yes, I had saved her life twice, and yes, she was safer if I was around. I just couldn’t be all the time.

“Also, I have a shotgun in my room,” she said. “I used to shoot clay pigeons.”

A shotgun that might or might not be loaded, that might have been fired ages ago by someone who used to use it to shoot at practice targets. Not going to be good enough if I had my way.

Jen finished her drink.

She paused and I could see her think through a dozen things to say, but in the end she chose to keep it simple.

“Be careful. Please.”

I gave her a hug and waited till she’d closed her door before going to my suite.

I rummaged through my walk-in closet and found a dark sweatshirt. I changed into my work boots and took out my gloves, black ski cap and a stockman’s coat. I’d liberated the coat when I’d busted Tucker’s drug smuggling operation, and one of Jen’s staff had patched, cleaned and weatherproofed it. The night had turned wet, and I would be glad of it. It would also make me look twice as big and, even better, it would hide things.

From the trunk of the car I picked a couple of things for it to hide. I was already wearing the HK in a shoulder holster. I added the silencer. I took a shorty pump action shotgun for use as a last resort when silencers wouldn’t be any good. And my old entrenching tool. Personally, I’d never entrenched since boot camp. Sure, we used the tool in Ops 4-10. We called it our portable toilet. I wouldn’t want that tonight, but it had a lot to recommend it for breaking into old buildings.

I checked my messages on the octopus. Matt had sent me an update—
Power use at the bowling alley fell off a cliff this afternoon. Car auction place still cold, has been for a week.

Crap. I tried to kid myself that it could just be they’d decided to move somewhere more pleasant to hide out. I still had to go; the bowling alley was my only trace on Hoben. I was tired of shadow boxing. I growled. I needed to hit something. And I might get lucky and find a clue to where they’d moved to, or maybe where they’d keep Larry.