Painting the Roses Red

by Allyson Lindt

  “Hello?” His greeting was tentative.

  “Hatter.”

  Silence stretched over the line, followed by a heavy sigh. “Dormouse. I should have known you had my number.”

  “Tell me you’re not keeping tabs on me, and I’ll apologize.” She forced a chuckle.

  “We are,” Blake said. “Is this a friendly call? You wanted to shoot the breeze? Or do I need to count how long it will take you to trace me?”

  “I don’t want your location.” She meant it. He was safer with her knowing the barest minimum about his and Reagan’s lives.

  “So what can I do for you?”

  Lisa picked her way through underbrush and trees, trying to grasp the right words. She was less likely to spill anything to Blake than she was Trinity. Why did she call? “You’re about one of the only people in my life who hasn’t betrayed me.”

  His laugh was sharp and genuine. “I was a double agent. I was literally a part of your organization to betray you.”

  “That’s true.” She swept her gaze around the property. “But I knew that about you from the start, and you still never have. You know enough.”

  “We just want to be left alone.”

  She didn’t blame him. “I’ll give you that. I just... Ephraim is looking for you. He wants to know you’re all right, and I haven’t told him anything.”

  Birds and the rustle of leaves in the wind were her background noise.

  “Will you tell him I’m all right and leave it at that?” Blake asked. “I know that’s a big favor.”

  It really wasn’t. Not compared to most things she agreed to. She did need something from him in return though. “That depends on what you say to my next question.”

  “Which is...?”

  “Do you trust Ephraim?”

  “With my life.” Blake didn’t hesitate. “I don’t say that lightly, and I only trust Reagan as much.”

  What would that be like? “I’ll pass along your message. Take care.”

  “That’s it?” Blake sounded surprised.

  “It’s more than enough. Goodbye.” Lisa disconnected. None of this was right, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

  As she headed back to the cabin, her phone buzzed. She pulled up the news report that had triggered the alert.

  The Queen is Dead?

  Her stomach turned itself inside-out.

  She scanned the article for highlights. Someone believed to be the elusive Queen of Hearts had been found dead.

  Who...?

  Lisa kept reading.

  ...long time associate of the crime boss Jabberwock...

  ...primary suspect in the deaths at Bill Whisk’s office...

  Now she knew what Whisk’s fix had been. Frame her.

  It didn’t matter if Whisk knew this article was out there. The key was keeping him from discovering that Lisa read it. Time to turn in an Academy Award Winning performance.

  She replaced her mask. The key was to not panic, and not let Whisk know anything was up.

  And in the meantime, find a way out of here, and put a contingency plan in place in case the headlines became reality.

  She recorded a brief message and saved it.

  When she got back to the cabin, she set up a secured folder with all of her data about Jabberwock. About his associates. Everything she knew. She wasn’t ready to give up Jabberwock’s empire until she’d accomplished her goals, but if she died, she wanted everything to burn.

  She needed to check in every 24 hours. If she didn’t, all of this information would be sent to Ephraim, along with the message she’d recorded.

  Lunch went the same as always. Good food. Basic conversation. She was a little wooden, but she had been since they visited Dexter. The behavior was expected.

  Whisk returned to his room for the afternoon, and she dove into work, and the night she and Whisk were shot at.

  It was stupid of her to not follow these threads before. She’d believed his story about the gunman being for him. Why else would he flee the city?

  To isolate her.

  She hadn’t recognized anyone on his staff that night. Now, she poked and prodded into the names of the people found dead in his building. The first couple came back as working most recently for temp agencies. A couple more as security guards for hire.

  Fucking asshole set her up. In ways she’d never expected.

  Obsession is a powerful motivator. As long as you’re the one driving. Whisk’s voice echoed in her thoughts, overlapping with Alex’s.

  I need to tell you something. The memory of one of the last times she talked to Alex slammed into her. I met someone.

  At the time she’d been both nervous and excited. Part of her worried he might leave her, but most of her knew he wouldn’t. Who? Give me details, she’d prodded.

  You’re both going to love each other. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but...

  And she’d known the rest of the thought without him speaking it. But Jabberwock is a threat.

  Alex never got to tell her. They’d asked Jabberwock for time off, and the request pushed him over the edge. Sawyer was convinced Lisa was planning to leave him. He’d killed Alex to keep that from happening.

  But Alex couldn’t have been talking about... No. Lisa pulled up a photo of him, and traced her thumb over the glass.

  “It’s been a lot of fun watching you flounder.” Whisk’s voice came from behind, startling her. “Did you finally put the pieces together?”

  This was where she died unless she talked fast. She’d never been more certain of anything. “What pieces?”

  “Let’s not do that. We’ve moved past the bullshit, haven’t we?”

  Apparently not. “He wasn’t talking about you. He couldn’t have been,” Lisa said. If Alex had been in love with Bill, her words would make sense.

  “Alex was right. Back then, I would have adored you.” Was that regret in Bill’s voice? It didn’t matter. It was as phony as everything else about him. “I might have even loved you as much as he did. But what you did to him...”

  Lisa’s chest ached at the memory. “His death broke me.”

  “Obviously not completely. You look functional to me. You can’t be the best and be broken, so which is it?” Bill’s sorrow vanished.

  “I killed Jabberwock for what he did to Alex. I don’t know how you found out, but you were right about him being dead.” It was a last-minute plea. Not that she thought it would make a difference.

  “Huh.” Bill huffed. “Lucky guess on my part. That paranoid fuck never would have let you run loose the way you have for the last six months. Game’s over for you, I suppose. Do you think Wonderland will survive without its Queen?”

  “God, I hope not.” She reached for her gun.

  He pressed a barrel into the back of her skull. “Finally. Something we both agree on.” He cocked the hammer.

  Epilogue

  Ephraim stared at the page of the book he was reading. None of the words had stuck, and he’d re-read the same paragraph several times. He didn’t need to be in Manhattan anymore. Queen had given him what she was going to. Blake wasn’t here.

  He could go home any time. But he wouldn’t be doing anything different there, and here, he got clean-up service once a day, and someone else did the laundry.

  His phone rang, and he snagged it from its spot on the nightstand. “Yeah.”

  “It’s Greg. You still in the city?”

  Greg was another Marine friend. Ephraim had lunch with him a few weeks ago, so they could catch up. Greg didn’t know anything about who Blake had been associated with, but Ephraim had let slip he was looking into Jabberwock.

  “I am,” Ephraim said.

  “This Jabberwock guy... I don’t suppose you ever met any of his people?”

  Ephraim hesitated. He didn’t want to give Queen up, but he wasn’t sure why not. “I’m not sure. Why?”

  “We have a body down here, and we’re trying to make a positive ID. Supposedly, she’s the Que
en of Hearts.”

  No. Ephraim almost dropped his phone. “I’m not sure if I can help, but I’ll come down now.”

  He didn’t wait for Greg’s reply. His mind was a blur as he drove to the police station. He barely knew this woman, but if she was dead, any answers he could uncover about Blake were gone.

  Time seemed to speed by and crawl at the same time as he tracked down Greg, and was shown the Medical Examiner’s office. When the body was pulled from the freezer, his breath lodged in his throat.

  He nodded to let the ME know that yes, this was Queen of Hearts.

  But it wasn’t. She looked a lot like Queen. Same hair color. Similar build. Why did he lie?

  Ephraim didn’t know.

  “Expensive jewelry.” The ME handed Ephraim a bag of the woman’s personal effects. “18 karat gold. Diamonds.”

  Through plastic, Ephraim examined two earrings—a crown and a heart on gold posts. “She was The Queen of Hearts.” Who also wore stainless steel because she was allergic to most metals.

  His phone buzzed, and he fished it from his pocket. It was a new email. His pulse hammered in his ears when he saw Queen’s name on the screen. His nausea swelled. “I need to run. Call me if you need anything else.” He kept his tone polite, but couldn’t hide that he was in a hurry.

  He headed out to his SUV.

  Did Ephraim want to keep pursuing this? He’d called Blake obsessive all those months ago, for refusing to walk away despite having an out. Now he was considering surrendering everything—comfort, security—and replacing it with a Most Wanted tag attached to his name.

  It might not come to that, but he couldn’t rule it out.

  Ephraim’s battered Explorer sat at the far end of the lot, away from lights and security cameras. People knew he was here. Jabberwock’s people. Whisk’s people. But there was no reason to make tracking him any easier.

  The compulsion to read the message was overwhelming, but he’d wait until he was in his own room, in a copper shielded tent that provided at least some measure of privacy from prying eyes and ears.

  The ten-minute drive back to his hotel felt like an eternity and a half. He locked every bolt when he stepped inside. It only took a couple of minutes for him to erect the makeshift faraday cage he’d brought with him. It was basic and ugly, but it was effective.

  He booted his laptop, waited while a series of security protocols loaded, and then opened the message. Now that he was here, trepidation kept him from opening the email. If he didn’t, though, he’d never have his answers.

  That was the only thing he’d wanted, after all this time. Answers.

  The email held a single link to a secure server. He steeled himself and followed the link to an audio file. After a laborious scan for anything malware related, he clicked Play.

  “I hope to God if you’re listening to this, you’re Ephraim.” Lisa’s voice carried from his speakers. “If not, then I hope you enjoy this traipse into voyeurism. At the risk of sounding cliché and melodramatic, if you’re hearing this, I’m dead.”

  He couldn’t do this without alcohol. He grabbed the bottle of Jack from the nightstand, and took a swig directly from the bottle.

  “The people you’re looking for didn’t met the same fate I did. I know. I arranged their safe exit.”

  Thank fuck. Finally an answer. Blake was safe. That should reassure Ephraim. This was the point where he could stop listening. Pack everything up and go home.

  He let the recording continue. “I’m going to give you what you need. You’ll avenge me. This will give you the kind of prestige that will allow you to retire peacefully, if you choose to use it to walk away. Please choose that. If any god still hears my prayers—one of chaos or death maybe—don’t do what Blake did. You deserve a better fate than the one he chose. I’m going to give you everything you need for law enforcement, to destroy Jabberwock’s empire.”

  Ephraim wanted another drag off the Jack. To numb his mind. To help him make stupid decisions.

  Instead, he hit Pause and went to make himself a pot of coffee. It was going to be a long night, and he needed to process every word he was about to read.

  He lost track of time as he sifted through the documents. Testimony in the form of death bed confession held a lot of weight for a judge and jury, and right now most of the world thought Queen was dead.

  Was she? Her message said she was, even though it wasn’t her on the ME’s table. If she wasn’t dead, where was she?

  Ephraim sifted through more of the documents she’d provided. Enough data to arrest several people associated with Jabberwock, and with Bill Whisk.

  Queen implicated herself as well, and handed over her real name. Lisa Hayes.

  And she gave him a name in the police department, a Detective Hughes, who she said would probably do brutally good things with this information.

  Ephraim knew Blake was alive now. All he had to do was hand this information over, and walk away.

  Why wasn’t he booking a flight right now?

  He didn’t know, but he wasn’t leaving until he uncovered what had happened to Lisa Hayes. It seemed he didn’t need the Jack to help him make stupid decisions.

  THE STORY’S NOT OVER yet. To find out what happens to Wonderland, and all of its inhabitants, check out Reigning Hearts.

  › Click here to grab your copy of Reigning Hearts today

  About the Author

  USA Today Bestselling Author Allyson Lindt is a full-time geek and a fuller-time contemporary romance author. She likes her stories with sweet geekiness and heavy spice, because cubicle dwellers need love too. She loves a sexy happily-ever-after and helping deserving cubicle dwellers find their futures together.

  Read more at Allyson Lindt’s site.