by I. T. Lucas
Whatever the real story was, she couldn’t talk about it because it was a military secret.
But since there was plenty that Yamanu was hiding from her, he had no right to pry, and a change of topic was in order.
“Have you been modeling ever since, or did you take a break for college?”
“Much to my parents’ disappointment, I didn’t go to college. My sister went for both of us.”
“How did that work? Is she your identical twin who changed outfits while hopping between classes?”
Casting him an amused sidelong glance, Mey slapped his arm. “You’re funny. Jin is twenty months younger than me, and she recently graduated NYU with a degree in business management. We want to launch our own fashion label one day. I’m going to handle the design part and model our line, while Jin is going to run the business side.”
When she’d started talking about her sister, Mey had sounded happy, but towards the end her tone turned a little sad.
“I sense that there is a problem with your plan. Did Jin change her mind?”
“Not that I’m aware of. We knew we had to save up money to start the business, so it wasn’t going to happen right after her graduation. She was offered a well-paying job with a large bonus if she stayed on for five years. But she was awfully secretive about it. She said that they had her sign a nondisclosure agreement, and that she couldn’t tell me anything about it. She left two weeks ago, and since then I’ve only gotten two short texts from her, and I’m worried. It’s not like her. We used to talk several times a day.”
“Did you try to call her?”
“Many times. Phone calls, texts, emails. In her second text she said that there was no reception over there. From what I understand, she can get to the one spot where there is sporadic reception only once a week.”
“That’s indeed odd.”
Mey seemed relieved that he didn’t try to dismiss her fears as irrational.
“That’s what I thought. And then she said something about how modeling is a great job, when she used to sneer at it. Do you think she was trying to hint something?”
“Possibly. Any idea what?”
Mey sighed. “I wish I knew. The only thing that comes to mind is that I shouldn’t accept any job offers outside of modeling. But why?”
“Maybe her next text will offer another clue.”
“Yeah, I had the same thought.” She stopped in front of an apartment building. “This is where I live. Do you want to come up and check for intruders?”
She sounded hopeful, and he hated to disappoint her again. “I have to. Otherwise Ari will bite my head off. It will only take a couple of minutes.”
Hopefully, she wouldn’t try anything because Yamanu wasn’t sure he would be able to say no.
He had taken his potion today, adding one more dose to the regular two, but he hadn’t meditated. The potion only took care of the physical cravings, but he needed the meditation to get his mind in the right place.
As Mey entered a code to open the front door, he examined the security camera mounted above it and approved. It was a relatively new model.
Once inside, they entered the elevator and Mey pressed the button for the eighth floor.
“It’s a nice building,” he said just to fill the silence.
“The apartment costs a fortune, but there are four of us. We each pay two grand.”
He whistled. “That’s pricey.”
“I’m sure that the suites you guys are renting at the hotel cost an arm and a leg.”
“We get a discount. It’s family owned.”
“Ah. That explains it. Does it have anything to do with Ari’s father?”
The elevator stopped and they got out. “What makes you think it’s her father who is the important person?”
“Is it her mother?” She opened the door to her apartment.
“Can’t tell you that.” He winked.
Flicking the lights on, Mey shrugged. “Whatever. We each have our secrets.”
When she made a move to walk in, he put a hand on her arm. “Stay here by the door. It will only take me a couple of minutes.”
“Okay.”
If anyone was there, Yamanu would have sensed it by now, but after her sister’s story, he wasn’t taking any chances. Mey was right about it all smelling fishy.
She watched him as he checked the kitchen, opening every cabinet that was big enough for a person to hide in. When he was done with that, Yamanu continued to the bedrooms. First, he opened all the doors and let his senses flare out. No one was there, but he made a show of looking under the beds and inside the closets and bathrooms.
When he finished, he returned to the living room. “All clear. But I want you to have my number.” He flashed her a smile. “Just in case you need a big strong guy for any reason at all.” He pulled out his phone. “Here is my number. Call me, so you’ll have it in your contacts.”
She looked at it and frowned. “Is it an international number? I don’t recognize the area code.”
“It’s a private network. Don’t worry about the cost. For you, it will be like a local call.”
She shook her head as she punched in the numbers. “Ari’s mother must be someone really important.”
Nice try.
He didn’t respond. When his phone rang, he answered it and then hung up.
“Don’t hesitate to call me. I mean it. Day or night. If anything seems even slightly suspicious to you, call.”
“Why? What are you thinking?”
He leaned and kissed her cheek. “I’m thinking that a beautiful woman like you, alone in an apartment, is not safe.”
As her heartbeat sped up, and he scented her arousal, Yamanu knew he had to get out of there as soon as he could.
“Well, I have to run.” He pulled the door open. “I hope to see you tomorrow at dinner.”
“I’ll try to make it.”
“Lock the door behind me.”
“I will. And thanks for walking me home and checking that everything was okay.”
The disappointment in her eyes was killing him.
“Anytime. Goodnight, Mey.”
24
Mey
“Please tell me that we are done.” Mey plopped onto Julie’s folding chair and let her arms hang down.
She was tired of forcing herself to think positive thoughts and smiling at the camera. All she wanted was to get to the nearest coffee shop and get herself a gallon-sized cappuccino, made from whole milk, sweetened with brown sugar, and screw the calorie count.
She was so sick of it all.
Jin was wrong about modeling being a mindless job. Other than acting, it was probably the only profession that required mental gymnastics to keep up the right mood. Right now, Mey could’ve rocked the bitchy, angry one, but that was not what the client wanted. He wanted happy, cheerful, mischievous, sexy, none of which Mey was feeling.
Where was an M-16 and a practice target when she needed one?
Derek scrolled through the thousand or so pictures he’d taken. “For today it seems that we are. Good job, Mey. You really gave it your all. No wonder you are exhausted.”
“Here.” Julie handed her a bottle of water.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want me to take you home?” Derek asked.
“No, drop me at the nearest Starbucks. I’m in the mood for a venti cappuccino.”
Julie shook her head. “Even with skim milk, do you know how many calories that thing has?”
“I don’t care. Not today.”
“Rough date last night?” Julie asked.
“No date.”
“Ah, so that’s the problem.” Julie cast her a knowing look.
“I really don’t want to talk about it. Can you hand me a bunch of makeup wipes? I don’t want to walk into Starbucks looking like this.”
“I’ll do it.” Julie made quick work of cleaning her face. “Do you want me to put a little eyeliner back on?”
“No, thanks. I want
to give my skin a rest.”
“In that case, let me apply some moisturizer with sunscreen.”
“Thank you. That I can really use.”
Mey tanned easily, which was both unhealthy and not a good look on her.
Despite her protests, Derek dropped her off at the Starbucks nearest her home, which probably added at least half an hour to his drive.
“See you tomorrow bright and early.” He waved before pulling into the street.
“Thank you for the ride.” She waved back.
Inside the coffee shop, Mey did exactly what she’d planned, ordering a venti cappuccino made with whole milk and at the last moment adding a chocolate croissant.
She was going to pay for that, but right now she didn’t care.
Choosing the corner seat next to the window, she sat with her back to the rest of the customers and pulled out her phone.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a message from Shimon. It must have come in while she’d been placing the order because she’d checked her phone before Derek had dropped her off.
She called right back.
“Mey.”
“Hi, Shimon. Thanks for getting back to me. Do you have anything about Jin?”
“Yes and no. She didn’t book any flights, not under her name. And if she bought a train or bus ticket, she did it with cash. The last activity on her credit card was a charge from Bareburger, which she made the same day she left for her new job.”
Mey slumped on the barstool. “So, you found nothing.”
“Well, as I said, yes and no. I checked her phone records, and there were none. Everything was wiped clean, which is next to impossible to do. Everything ever said over a cellular connection, and every text message, it can all be retrieved. Whoever cleaned Jin’s was a top-notch pro. Probably someone from your government. I can’t think of anyone else who could have done it.”
Mey shook her head. “It doesn't make sense. Jin is a twenty-four-year-old girl with nothing to hide.”
Except for her special ability.
Mey tried to remember if they had ever talked about it over the phone or texted each other about it. If what Shimon was telling her about the phone records was true, and she had no reason to doubt him, then someone might have hacked into their communications and discovered their secrets.
“I wish there was more I could do for you,” he said.
“You did plenty. Thank you for putting so much effort into this.”
“For you, anytime. Are you coming home for a visit sometime soon?”
“I have no plans at the moment, and certainly not until I find out what's going on with Jin.”
“When you do, give me a call.”
“I will. And thank you again. You’re the best.”
He chuckled. “So I kept telling you. Bye, Mey.”
Disconnecting the call, Mey smiled. Shimi was so full of himself, but at least it wasn’t empty boasting. He had the right to be cocky.
It was a shame that things hadn’t worked out between them.
Maybe he had left because he thought she was too skinny, too.
Ugh, enough of that. She took a long sip from the cappuccino and grimaced. It was too heavy and didn’t taste as wonderful as she thought it would.
After throwing the half-full cup into the trash, Mey took one last bite of her croissant and threw away the paper bag it came with.
She was still wearing the high heels from the photo shoot, but she had a pair of flip-flops in her bag, and she took them out before heading home. It was less than a ten-minute walk, but there was no reason to do it in four-inch heels and tower over everyone on the street.
Talk about stares.
So far, she had only two clues about Jin’s new job. Her sister was most likely working on something top secret for the government, and it could be somewhere in West Virginia. Perhaps near that radio free zone, which would explain the communication problem.
Then there was the possibility that Shimon had made her aware of. If they’d mentioned their abilities over the phone, talking or messaging, then Jin might have been recruited for that top secret job because of her talent.
She could be the perfect spy. Heck, she could be the best spy anyone could dream of. All she had to do was to meet the suspect and touch him or her, and bam! She could spy on them wherever they were and report what she saw and heard.
But if they, whoever they were, knew about Jin’s ability from tapping into their phone conversations and texts, then they also knew about Mey’s special talent. It could also be used as a spying tool, maybe not as good as Jin’s, but still useful. Mey didn’t need to meet the person or touch them. All she had to do was be in a room that person had occupied recently.
That could explain Jin’s cryptic comment about Mey’s modeling career. Was it a hint not to accept job offers that seemed too good to be true?
As the clues started to form a possibly scary picture, Mey’s senses went on high alert, and she looked over her shoulder.
Was the guy in the baseball cap following her?
Nah, it was probably paranoia. If the government was involved, they had no reason to send someone to follow her. They knew where she lived, and most likely also about her Mossad days. And if they hadn’t known before, they might know after her phone call to Shimon. The word Mossad hadn’t been mentioned, but she had a feeling that the American Secret Service could find out anything about anyone.
Just in case the guy was a creep, Mey didn’t turn into her street and continued walking straight ahead. After a few minutes, she glanced over her shoulder again, but the baseball cap guy was gone.
That didn’t mean he was gone for good. If he was following her, he might employ evasive maneuvers, staying out of sight for a little while and then popping up again. Or, he could have taken the cap off. Without it, she wouldn’t recognize him.
Mey kept on walking, stopping here and there and pretending to look at storefronts while casting inconspicuous glances back.
He wasn’t behind her, but then she caught his reflection from the other side of the street, leaning against a lamppost and pretending to read on his phone.
Damn.
What was she going to do now?
Going home was a no-no. The guy might not be from the government, but he might be a would-be rapist stalking her.
She could go into another coffee shop and wait him out, or she could call Yamanu.
He’d told her to call him if she sensed something suspicious, right?
And besides, even if she got rid of the creep following her, she would be afraid to go home and sleep in the apartment alone.
Pulling out her phone, she found Yamanu’s contact and called him, at the same time committing to memory everything about the guy across the street.
He answered right away. “Are you in danger?”
“Are you psychic? I’m on the street not far from my apartment and I have a feeling someone is following me. You told me to call you if I sensed something suspicious.”
Damn, what if he thought that she was making it up just to see him?
“Are you near a busy coffee shop or a restaurant?”
“There is a steak house about two minutes’ walk ahead.”
“What’s the name?”
“Barron’s. I mean Barron’s Steak House.”
“Get in there. I’ll join you in less than five minutes.”
She felt the tension leave her shoulders. “I really hate inconveniencing you like that, and I might be panicking over nothing. But I’m scared.”
“It’s not an inconvenience. Now get moving. Don’t stay in one place and hold your purse close to your body. How are your self-defense moves?”
She heard him opening a door and then closing it. “Decent.”
“Do you have anything you can use as a weapon?”
“A high-heeled shoe?”
“Are you walking in them?’
“No, they are in my satchel. I was on my way from a photo shoot.”
“Yeah, good idea.”
“Don’t hang up. Keep the line open.”
“Okay.”
25
Yamanu
Yamanu ran all the way to the steak house, ignoring the startled looks of passersby, the few watch it shouts, and the many gaping mouths. He was running at an unnatural speed, but with his height and his long black hair flying behind him, people probably thought that he was an athlete turned actor shooting a commercial.
He didn’t care. Mey had sounded frightened, and she didn’t strike him as someone who panicked over nothing.
He still heard her over the earpiece, asking for a table for two, thanking the waiter, and then ordering a glass of water. So, he knew she was okay, but she’d sensed something, and that was enough to turn on his fight or flight instinct, or rather just the fight.
No one scared his woman and got away with it.
Wait, whoa. His woman?
Where did that come from?
His friend. Mey was his friend, not his woman.
And no one threatened Yamanu’s friends without suffering his retribution. Yeah, that was better.
Crossing a distance that would’ve taken a human about twenty minutes at top speed in less than ten, Yamanu stopped at the door and took a deep breath. When he pushed it open, he saw Mey sitting at a table in the back but facing the entrance.
Smart girl.
To never turn your back on a potential threat was basic survival instinct, but not everyone had it. Humans, especially those living in big cities, had lost their sensitivity to danger triggers.
She smiled at him. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I ran.”
“No way. Did you steal someone’s bike?”
He pulled out a chair. “I wouldn’t do that. I would offer to pay for it.”
“What if you didn’t have time to negotiate?”
“Then I would yell that it’s an emergency, throw the money together with my business card at the biker, and take off.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Good solution. I’ll remember that next time I have to confiscate someone’s bike.”
