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Authors: Nichole Chase

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BOOK: The Accidental Assassin
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I wrapped it around and managed to stick my small pistol in without shooting myself in the butt crack. I tucked the sweater in, making sure to fluff it in the back.

“Here,” she said. She dug in the bag and pulled out a small black cardigan. “This will help.”

I pulled it on and stepped into the shoes she’d chosen for me to wear. There was also a pair of pearl earrings stuck to a small cardboard card. I popped those in my ears and checked my reflection. My hair was disheveled, but the rest of me looked ready to be a sex-pot on her way to a job interview. Not bad at all.

“Let’s go.” The little woman picked up one of my new bags. “We need to get you a briefcase and small travel bag, but first we should get your hair done. It looks like you tumbled out of bed from a one night stand.”

“Gosh, you know how to make a girl feel good about herself.” I rolled my eyes before tucking the money Owen had given me into my bra. My lips pursed as I fought a scowl. I didn’t usually stick things in my bra for safekeeping, but this skirt didn’t have any pockets and I couldn’t just carry it around in my hand. Lots of women thought it was a perfectly acceptable place to store things, but in high school I had worked at a grocery store. When you have a woman dig sweaty coins and soaking wet bills out of her bra to pay for her frozen pizza and beer, you just couldn’t think of sticking stuff in your bra again. Boob sweat wasn’t something that should be shared.

We stopped by a small boutique where I purchased a purse, travel bag, and briefcase. From there we hurried to get my hair cut. The stylist was not impressed with my hair care routine. I was lectured on the damages of putting your hair up while still wet, moisturizing, and hair masks. By the time she had passed me on to the makeup artist I’d promised to never skip a mud treatment for my hair. Once they had deemed me acceptable, I was released from the chair that I’d been trapped in, and staggered to the front desk where Mavis waited.

“What do you think?” She eyed me critically.

“I feel like a plucked chicken.” I touched my forehead gingerly.

“Excuse me?” Mavis cocked her head to the side.

“Never mind.” I shook my head. “Am I satisfactory?”

“Yes.” She handed money over to the woman at the register. “Our car is out front. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I reached and took her large purse so that I could carry it to the snazzy black sedan waiting for us. I was careful to stay half a step behind her as we exited the building. Practicing for our time in Scotland.

“So much for keeping a low cover. This is rather ostentatious,” I muttered under my breath.

“People will be looking for an anxious American woman wearing giant sunglasses and a hoodie. They will look right past the business woman and her assistant.” She smiled over her shoulder. “People see what they want to see.”

“That’s what Owen said.” I frowned. “But if people are looking for me, won’t they see me?”

“Not if your nose is buried in your phone or tablet as I give you work to do. They will only see an overbearing boss and an overworked lackey. The key is to be your part. If you play it right, no one will notice you.”

“I’m a terrible liar, Mavis.” I shuddered. “And I doubt I’m a much better actress.”

“That’s why you have me. Relax.”

A man with a black hat opened the back door for us. Our bags were already in the car and once inside, I started stuffing my new clothes into the carry on we’d just bought, careful to remove all the tags.

“Right then. Here are our tickets.” Mavis opened an envelope that had been in her seat. “Refer to me as Ms. Thomasino.”

“Won’t you need to hand them your ticket?” I looked over the paperwork she was handing me.

“They won’t fuss if you hand it to them and I’m there with you. We want them to think that you are used to doing everything for me. My personal lackey.” She opened her briefcase and brought out a tablet and phone. “These are yours. Georgie procured these for us while you were getting your hair done.”

“Georgie?” I looked up at the driver. He was an older man, nondescript, his little black hat covering short gray hair.

“Georgie has done odd jobs for me for a very long time.” She smiled at the man watching us in his mirror. “Isn’t that right, Georgie?”

“Aye, it is. Long time now.” His accent was so thick I could barely make out the words. “Ever since I caught her trying to steal my wallet.”

“It wasn’t your wallet, Georgie.” Mavis pretended to frown. “I’d watched you nick it from the mark talking to a PC. Fair game.”

“A’ight then.” He smiled the way a grandfather would at his favorite grandchild. “I’ve not been able to shake her since. Somehow ended up on her payroll.”

“You know the most interesting people, Mavis.” I put the tablet and phone in the briefcase. Careful so I wouldn’t bend anything, I put the tickets and my new identification in the purse. Both bags looked obscenely empty.

“You have no idea, dear.” She smiled. “But Georgie is useful.”

“Aye, and trustworthy.” He winked at me through the mirror.

“As long as I’m paying the best.” Mavis glowered.

“Ah now, you never let me down,” Georgie announced. “I printed out the papers you asked for and picked up the little things.”

I wasn’t sure exactly what Georgie had said, but looked through the bag and smiled.

“Chapstick!” I pulled a tube from the bag and held it to my chest. “Oh, I’ve missed having my Chapstick.”

“It’s the little things in life.” Mavis held her hand out for the bag and passed out the pens and mints. She handed me the rest of the stuff, which consisted of toiletries, and I put them in the overnight bag.

“Where are we headed now?” I looked out the window, watching as the city rushed by. I’d barely scratched the surface while touring the last week. There was still so much more to see.

“Kings Cross.” Mavis was playing with her cell phone.

“Are we taking the Hogwarts Express?” I couldn’t help my grin. Kings Cross was one of the places I’d been planning on visiting. “Will you take my picture at platform 9 ¾?”

“Sure, we’ll stop and take selfies pushing the pretend cart through the wall.” She leveled her gaze at me, her best you-are-an-idiot look firmly in place.

“C’mon. It’s Harry Potter! I need my picture taken there.” I leaned back in my seat. “This whole being on England’s most wanted list has put a real cramp into my tourist plans.”

“After this is all over I’ll take your picture wherever you want.” Mavis closed her purse and clasped her hands. “And think about it. You’re about to ride a private jet all the way to Paris. I bet you didn’t plan on that when you decided to move to England.”

“True.” I shrugged. “Of course, I won’t be me on the flight, and I’ll be praying that no one tries to kill us the whole time.”

“Focus on Paris. We’ll make time to stop at a bakery. Nothing smells quite as good as a Parisian bakery first thing in the morning. The fresh bread, the sweet fillings, candies. You have to experience it.” She looked over at me. “I’m sure we’ll be able to make time for that at some point.”

“So we can make time for éclairs, but not for the Hogwarts Express?” I pouted.

“You know, I thought it would be easier to travel with you than with Kenny.”

“Funny.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s Harry Potter. Shouldn’t you have some sort of British pride when it comes to the Boy Who Lived?”

“Of course I do, but I’m not going to take your picture while you pretend to run through a brick wall. We need to look professional and dignified. Have Owen bring you back.”

Right. I was going to ask Owen to take me to Kings Cross just for a picture. I sighed. I’d love to do normal things with him, like traveling, picking out where to eat, or apartment shopping. Hell, I’d love to know that I could yell at him for not replacing the toilet paper. And was I really considering finding a place to live with him? Like the big bad assassin would be happy to settle down and have plants. Or pets? A little puppy, maybe. Not to mention I’d sort of like to have kids one day which would definitely send Owen running for the nearest assassin bunker.

Thinking about him made my chest hurt. What if something had happened to him and Kenny? What if they didn’t make it to Scotland? Would I go through with the plan without him? Just me and Mavis?

No. We were in this together. If he didn’t show up, I’d be hell bent on finding out why. For some reason I had this horrible feeling that he was just waiting to die, waiting to go down in a blaze of glory, and it made me sick to my stomach. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to go back to being normal after all of this, but I knew I wouldn’t manage even a fake normal without Owen to lean on.

“Have you heard from the guys?” I managed to keep my voice calm. Maybe she wouldn’t even think it was odd to ask.

“We’ll see them when we get there.” She didn’t say anything else, which I took to mean she hadn’t heard from them, not that she thought they were dead.

I watched the scenery as we drove, taking in the sights, trying to memorize street names. I’d learned that seeing distant places in movies and television shows rarely conveyed the reality of the location.

When you got to this place that you had built up in your mind from television shows or movies, you were either let down or overwhelmed. Your reaction rarely hit in the middle. Unless you went somewhere you’d never thought about visiting before. When I’d been in high school I’d gone to Ottawa. It wasn’t a place I’d ever daydreamed of traveling to, but I’d enjoyed it. There hadn’t been any big shock and awe moment and no real letdowns.

London had a lot of places that were everything that I had pictured and very few places that had been a disappointment. I’d really enjoyed most of my time in the city. Well, until I was being shot at.

Or accidently killing people with my car.

Kings Cross was another one of those places that I’d looked at online, read about in travel magazines, and looked forward to seeing. This place was in movies, books, television shows that I adored. I’d imagined a massive hub, where people were always coming and going. I’d grab a train to go see different things, maybe meet new people.

I wasn’t disappointed. People on forums had complained that the station was dingy and not very attractive, but thankfully, they had just finished a major refurbishment. The bricks looked fresh and there was a ton of natural light streaming through skylights.

Georgie had dropped us off and I’d followed behind Mavis like a good little employee. We had exactly zero problems getting on the train, which I found a bit worrisome. Either they were very lax or Mavis had greased some palms. I was willing to bet on the latter.

The pistol strapped to the small of my back felt like a blinking beacon to everyone that looked in my direction.

“Keep up, dear. I don’t want to lose you in the car. I’ll need my laptop once we’re settled.” Mavis’s voice carried back to me.

“Yes, ma’am.” I picked up my speed and stopped looking around like an idiot. I wasn’t here as a tourist today. I was here to play the part of adoring assistant.

It was unlikely that anyone was watching for us, but it didn’t hurt to be in character. The more I practiced, the easier it would become. Plus, Mavis enjoyed the charade, which made it hard to stay peppy and adoring. When she’d thrust her jacket at me to carry, I’d thought about stomping her into the ground.

She’d make a little squish sound.

Instead, I kept my head down and followed the clicking of her heels as we walked. It was difficult to keep from looking around to see if we were being followed.

The train was what I expected. Mavis had bought First Class seats, so we weren’t crowded or stuck with someone else’s arm in our ribs. We were on the single side of the car, which meant our seats faced one another and there was a small table in the middle. A window lined up perfectly with our seats and I was excited to watch the countryside slip by before night fell. We wouldn’t be making it into Edinburgh until late tonight.

“Why don’t you sleep?” Mavis set her laptop on the small table. “I have a few things to take care of and you look tired.”

“Really, Ms. Thomasino, I look tired? That’s so odd after my week at the spa.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t roll out of bed looking like a female hygiene commercial.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I think I want to watch the scenery for a bit.” I settled back into my chair. “Unless you’d like me to help you with anything.”

“No, I’m working on stuff that has nothing to do with our current trip.” She leaned closer to her computer. “I have a book in my bag if you’d rather read.”

“No thanks, I’m good.” This conversation was eerily normal considering that we were traveling under aliases and in possession of illegal weapons.

Instead of focusing on my current situation, I let my mind drift as the train began to move. Being in another country made even the simplest things seem foreign and exotic. I was going to enjoy watching all of the green grass and trees before the crap started to fall.

 

BOOK: The Accidental Assassin
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