"That she does," I said.
Donna gave me one last searching look, then turned to Edward. She drew him away towards a car three down from us. They talked quietly together while I waited in the still, dry, heat. Since Donna had tried for privacy, I gave it to them, turning away and gazing off at the distant mountains. They looked very close, but it's always been my experience that mountains are seldom as close as they appear. They're like dreams, distant things to set your sights on, but not truly to be trusted to be there when you need them.
I heard Edward's boots crunch on the pavement before he spoke. I was facing him, arms crossed lightly over my stomach, which put my right hand nicely close to the gun under my arm. I believed Edward when he said we had a truce on, but ... better cautious than sorry.
He stopped by the car one slot over, leaning his butt against it, arms crossing to mirror me. But he didn't have a gun under his arm. I wasn't sure that a bounty hunter's license was enough to get him through an airport metal detector, so he shouldn't have been able to have a gun or large blade on him.
Unless of course he'd picked it up from one of the cars, where he'd hidden it. It would be something that Edward would do. Better to assume the worst and he wrong than assume the best and be wrong. Pessimism will keep you alive, optimism won't, not in our line of business anyway.
Our line of business. Strange phrase. Edward was an assassin. I wasn't. But somehow we were in the same business. I couldn't quite explain it, but it was title.
Edward gave me a pure Edward smile, a smile meant to make me uneasy and suspicious. It also usually meant that he meant me no harm and was just yanking my chain. Of course, he knew I knew what the smile usually meant, so he might use it to lull me into a false sense of security. Or it could mean just what it seemed to. I was overthinking things and that was bad all on its own. Edward was right, I was at my best when I let my gut work and kept my higher functions in the background. Not a recipe for going through life, but a good one for a gunfight.
"We have a truce," I said.
He nodded. "I said, we did."
"You make me nervous," I said.
The smile widened. "Glad to hear you're still scared of me. I was beginning to wonder."
"The day you stop being afraid of the monsters is the day they kill you."
"And I'm a monster?" He made it a question.
"You know exactly what you are, Edward."
His eyes narrowed. "You called me Edward in front of Donna. She didn't say anything, but you are going to have to be more careful."
I nodded. "I'm sorry, I caught it, too. I will try but I'm not half as good a liar as you are. Besides, Ted is a nickname for Edward."
"Not if the full name on my driver's license is Theodore."
"Now, if I can call you Teddy, maybe I'd remember."
"Teddy is fine," he said, voice totally unchanged.
"You are a very hard man to tease, Ed ... Ted."
"Names don't mean anything, Anita. They're too easy to change."
"Is Edward really your first name?"
"It is now."
I shook my head. "I'd really like to know."
"Why?" He gazed at me from the black sunglasses, and the weight of his interest burned through the glass. The question wasn't idle. Of course, Edward seldom asked any question he didn't want an answer to.
"Because I've known you for five years, and I don't even know if your first name is real."
"It's real enough," he said.
"It bugs me not to know," I said.
"Why?" he asked again.
I shrugged and eased my hand away from my gun because it wasn't necessary, not right this minute, not today. But even as I did it, I knew there would be other days, and for the first time I really wasn't sure that both of us would see the end of my little visit. It made me sad and grumpy.
"Maybe I just want to know what name to put on the tombstone," I said.
He laughed. "Confidence is a fine trait. Over-confidence isn't." The laughter faded and left his face around the glasses cool and unreadable. I didn't have to see his eyes to know they were cold and distant as winter skies.
I pushed away from the car, hands empty at my sides. "Look, Edward, Ted, whatever the hell you call yourself, I don't like being invited here to play monster bait, and find you dating the new age mom of the year. It's thrown me, and I don't like that either. We have a truce until the case is solved, then what?"
"Then we'll see," he said.
"You couldn't just agree to stop being engaged to Donna?"
"No." His voice was small, careful.
"Why not?" I asked.
"I'd need to give her a good enough reason to break her heart and the kids'. Remember, I've been spending a lot of time with the kids. How would it look to just vanish on them?"
"I think her son wouldn't mind. Peter, wasn't it? I think he'd love it if Ted would vanish."
Edward turned his head to one side. "Yeah, Peter would love it, but what about Becca? I've been in her life for over two years and she's only six. Donna trusts me to pick her up after school. I drive her once a week to dance lessons so Donna doesn't have to close the shop early." His voice and face never changed as he spoke, as if it was just facts and meant nothing.
Anger tightened my shoulders and traveled down my arms. I put my hands in fists just to have something to do with my body. "You bastard."
"Maybe," he said, "but be careful what you ask me to do, Anita. Just walking out could do more damage than the truth."
I stared at him, trying to see behind that blank face. "Have you thought about telling Donna the truth?"
"No."
"Damn you."
"Do you really think she could handle the truth, the entire truth, about me?" he asked.
I thought about that for nearly a full minute while we stood in the heat-soaked parking lot. Finally, I said, "No." I didn't like saying it, but truth was truth.
"You're sure she couldn't play wife to an assassin? I mean you've only met her for half an hour. How can you be so sure?"
"Now you're teasing me," I said.
His lips twitched almost a smile. "I think you are exactly right. I don't think Donna could handle the truth."
4
THE CAR BELONGED to Ted, even though Edward was driving it. It was a square and big something between a Jeep, a truck, and an ugly car. It was covered in red clay mud as if he'd been driving through ditches. The windshield was so dirty only two fans of clear space remained where the windshield wipers had washed away the mud. Everything else had dried to a reddish-brown patina of dirt.
"Gee, Edward," I said, as he opened the back hatch, "what have you been doing to this poor whatever it is. I've never seen a car so dirty."
"This is a Hummer, and cost more than most people's houses." He raised the hatch and started putting my bags inside. I offered him my carry-on, and when I was close could smell that new car smell, which explained why the carpeting in back was still nearly pristine.
"If it costs that much, then why doesn't it rate better care?" I asked.
He took the carry-on and put it on the new carpet. "I bought it because it could go over almost any terrain in almost any weather. If I didn't want it to get dirty, I'd have bought something else." He slammed the hatch shut.
"How can Ted afford something like this?"
"Actually, Ted makes a fine living off varmint hunting."
"Not this good," I said, "not off of bounty hunting."
"How do you know what a bounty hunter makes?" he asked, peering around the filthy car at me.
He had a point. "I guess I don't."
"Most people don't know what a bounty hunter makes so I can get away with some purchases that might be out of Ted's price range." He walked around the car toward the driver's side, only the top of his white hat showing above the mud-caked roof.
I tried the passenger side door, and it opened. It took a little bit of work to climb into the seat, and I was glad I wasn't wearing a skirt. One nice thing about wo
rking with Edward was that he wouldn't expect me to wear business attire. It was jeans and Nikes for this trip.
The only business thing I was wearing was the black jacket slung over my cotton shirt and jeans. The jacket was to hide the gun, nothing more. "What are the gun laws like in New Mexico?"
Edward started the car and glanced at me. "Why?"
I put on my seatbelt. Evidently, we were in a hurry. "I want to know if I can ditch the jacket and wear my gun naked, or whether I'm going to have to hide the gun for the entire trip."
His lips twitched. "New Mexico lets you carry as long as it's not concealed. Concealed carry without a permit is illegal."
"Let me test my understanding, I can wear the gun in full view of everyone with or without a carry permit, but if I put a jacket over it, concealing it, and don't have a carry permit, it's illegal?"
The twitch turned into a smile. "That's right."
"Western state gun laws are always so interesting," I said, but I started sliding out of the jacket. You can wiggle out of almost anything while remaining seat-belted in a car. Since I always wear a seatbelt, I'd had a lot of practice.
"But the police may still stop you if they see you walking around armed. Just make sure you're not here to kill anybody." He half smiled when he said the last.
"So I can carry as long as it's not concealed, but not really, not without getting questioned by the police."
"And you can't carry a gun of any kind, even unloaded, into a bar."
"I don't drink. I think I can avoid the bars."
A wire fence edged the road he pulled onto, but did nothing to take away the flat, flat distances and the strange black mountains. "What are the mountains called?"
"Sangre del Cristo -- the blood of Christ," he said. I looked at him to see if he was kidding. Of course, he wasn't. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why call them the blood of Christ?"
"I don't know."
"How long has Ted lived out here?"
"Almost four years," he said.
"And you don't know why the mountains are named Sangre del Christo? Do you have no curiosity?"
"Not about things that don't affect the job."
He didn't say, a job, but the job. I thought it was odd phrasing. "What if this monster that we're hunting is some kind of local bugaboo? Knowing why the mountains are named what they're named may mean nothing, or it may have to do with a legend, a story, a hint about some great blood bath in the past. There are very localised monsters, Edward, things that only come above ground every century or so like really long-lived cicadas."
"Cicadas?" he asked.
"Yeah, cicadas. The immature form stays in the ground until every thirteen or seven or whatever their cycle is years, they climb out, molt, and become adults. They're the insects that make all that noise in the summer time."
Whatever did those people wasn't a giant cicada, Anita."
"That's not the point, Edward. My point is that there are types of living creatures that stay hidden, almost totally hidden, for years, then resurface, are still a part of the natural world. Preternatural biology is still. So maybe old myths and legends would give us a clue."
"I didn't bring you down here to play Nancy Drew," he said.
"Yes, you did," I said looked at me long enough to make me want to tell him to watch the road.
"What are you talking about?"
"If you just wanted someone to point and shoot, you'd have brought in someone else. You want my expertise, not just my gun. Right?" He'd turned back to the road, much to my relief. There were small houses on either side, most of them made of adobe, or faux-adobe. I didn't know enough about it to judge. The yards were small but well-tended, running high to cacti and huge lilac bushes with surprisingly small bundles of pale lavender flowers on them. It looked like a different variety from the lilacs in the Midwest. Maybe it took less water.
Silence had filled the car and I let it, watching the scenery. I'd never been to Albuquerque, and I'd play tourist while I could. Edward finally answered then he turned onto Lomos Street. "You're right. I didn't ask you down here just to shoot things. I already have backup for that."
"Who?" I asked.
"You don't know them, but you'll meet them in Santa Fe."
"We're driving straight to Santa Fe now? I haven't eaten yet today. I was sort of hoping to catch some lunch."
"The latest crime scene is in Albuquerque. We'll catch it, then lunch."
"Will I feel like eating afterwards?"
"Maybe."
"I don't suppose I could talk you into lunch first then."
"We've got a stop before we hit the house," he said.
"What other stop?" I asked.
He just gave that small smile, which meant it was going to be a surprise. Edward loved to try my patience.
Maybe he'd answer a different question. "Who's your other backup?"
"I told you, you don't know them."
"You keep saying them. Are you saying that you already have two people for backup, and you still needed to call me in, too?" He didn't say anything to that.
"Three people backing you on this. Geez, Edward, you must be desperate." I'd meant for it to be a joke, sort of. He didn't take it that way.
"I want this case solved, Anita, whatever it takes." He looked grim when he said it. So much for my sense of humor.
"Do these two backups owe you a favor?"
"One does."
"Are they assassins?"
"Sometimes."
"Bounty hunters like Ted?"
"Bernardo is."
At least I had a name. "Bernardo is a sometimes assassin and a bounty hunter like Ted. You mean he uses his bounty hunting identity like you use yours as a legal identity?"
"Sometimes he's a bodyguard, too."
"A man of many talents," I said.
"Not really," he said. Which was a strange thing to say.
"What about the other guy?"
"Olaf."
"Olaf, okay. He's sometimes an assassin, not a bounty hunter, not a bodyguard, and what else?"
Edward shook his head.
His noncommittal answers were beginning to get on my nerves. "Do either of them have any other special abilities besides being willing to kill?"
"Yes."
He'd reached my limit on "yes, no" answers. "I didn't come down here to play twenty questions, Edward. Just tell me about the other backups."
"You'll meet them soon enough."
"Fine, then tell me where the other stop is."
He gave a small shake of his head.
"Look, Edward, you're getting on my nerves, and you've already pissed me off, so cut the mysterious crap, and talk to me."
He glanced sideways at me, a glimpse of eyes from the edges of the dark glasses. "My, my, aren't we touchy today."
"This isn't even close to touchy for me, Edward, and you know it. But keep up the noncommittal crap and you are going to truly piss me off."
"I thought you were already pissed off about Donna."
"I am," I said. "But I'm willing to get interested in the case and forget to be continuously pissed. But I can't get interested in the case if you don't answer questions about it. As far as I'm concerned your backup is part of the case, so either start sharing info or drive me back to the damn airport."
"I didn't tell Olaf and Bernardo you're shacking up with a vampire and a werewolf."
"Actually, I'm not dating either of them anymore, but that's not the point. I don't want to know about their sex life, Edward. I just want to know why you called them in. What are their areas of expertise?"
"You broke up with Jean-Claude and Richard both?" For one of the few times since I'd met him I heard real curiosity in his voice. I wasn't sure if it was nice to know or disturbing that my personal life interested Edward.
"I don't know if we broke up, it's more like we aren't seeing each other. I need some time away from them before I decide what to do."
"What are you thinking a
bout doing to them?" And there was a note of eagerness now.
Edward was only eager about one thing. "I am not planning to kill either of them, if that's what you're hinting at."
"I can't say I'm not disappointed," Edward said. "I think you should have killed Jean-Claude yourself before it all got too deep."
"You're talking about killing someone who has been my lover off and on for over a year, Edward. Maybe you could strangle Donna in her bed, but I'd lose sleep over something like that."
"Do you love him?"
The question stopped me, not because of the question but because of who was asking it. It seemed a truly odd question coming from Edward. "Yeah, I think I do."
"Do you love Richard?"
Again, it seemed odd talking about my emotional life with Edward. I have a few male friends, and most of them would rather have a root canal than to talk about "feelings." Of all my male friends I was talking to the one I thought would never discuss love with me. It just wasn't my year for understanding men.
"Yes, I love Richard."
"You say, you think you love the vampire, but you simply answer yes about Richard. Kill the vampire, Anita. I'll help you do it."
"Not to put too fine a point on it, Edward, but I'm Jean-Claude's human servant. Richard is his animal to call. The three of us are bound by vampire marks into a nice little menage a trois. If one of us dies, we may all die."
"Maybe, or maybe that's what the vampire tells you. It wouldn't be the first time he's lied to you."
It was impossible to argue without looking like a fool, so I didn't try. "When I want your advice on my personal life, I'll ask for it. Until people start ice skating in hell, save your breath. Now, tell me about the case."
"You get to tell me who to date and who not to, but I can't return the favor?" he asked.
I looked at him. "Are you angry with me about my stand on Donna?"
"Not exactly, but if you get to give me advice on dating, why can't I return the favor?"
"It's not the same thing, Edward. Richard doesn't have kids."
"Children make that big a difference to you?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yeah, they do."
"I never figured you as the maternal type."
"I'm not, but kids are people, Edward, little people trapped by the choices the adults around them make. Donna's old enough to make her own mistakes, but when you screw her, you're screwing her kids, too. I know that doesn't bother you, but it bothers me."
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