The Mysterious Stranger (The Confidence Game Book 3)

by Ainslie Paton

  It hadn’t felt at all like a problem for the few minutes he held her in his arms, felt her tremble and wanted nothing more than to keep hold of her, and that, right there, not wanting to let her go, definitely was a problem.

  It wasn’t just because he’d worried about her too.

  There were tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers in the greenhouses. The barns were locked up but that was when she told him about the keys, about his suitcase, which was waiting for him in his new cabin when he got there with her map this morning, and about calling Orrin out.

  Fucking Orrin who’d not said a word about it when they’d talked on-site, even when Zeke brought up wanting to be able to protect Rosie.

  “Not giving me a simple answer about where you were pissed me off,” she said, when they came to a stop beside an overgrown field, well off the beaten track. “I made a nuisance of myself. The upside was grabbing these.” She held up the large bunch of keys she’d hidden in the tangled roots of a huge tree. “Losing these must’ve stung. It’s not like they can cut keys here and if they suspected me, I’d know about it by now.”

  She gestured to the first barn. “Farm equipment. The other one is a parking garage. Trucks, bikes, cars and a small bus, a couple of empty shipping containers. We now have ready access to as many getaway cars as we want. No signal jammer.” She tucked the keys back into their hiding spot. “The building on the sports field is full of bats and balls. I still need to check the clinic, school and the nursery.”

  The intel was superb, not immediately useful, but necessary. The idea of her being out snooping around at night made him twitchy, and that was a problem. They were partners. Equals. Rory was a skilled professional. They knew what the job entailed and the risks of it and he had no right to any opinion about her actions unless they directly endangered him or any of the Continuers. She wouldn’t thank him for doubting her capabilities. Especially because lately she’d doubted them herself.

  “It’s too obvious for the signal jammer to be in the office but I’m going to check it tonight to make sure,” she said.

  HQ was a single large cabin. The only building with a second story. It would be quick work to search it. “We’re going to check it out tonight.”

  She grinned. “If your poor, weary bones can take creeping around cat-burglar style?”

  His weary bones moved fast enough to swat her pert little ass, earning him a kick aimed at his shin that almost connected. He backed off, hands up in submission. “What’s this dance tonight?” There’d been talk about it in the dining hall at breakfast.

  “Highlight of the season, Cadence says. We need to show up, be seen. Go do our break and enter and then make sure we’re back before the final waltz or whatever.”

  It was a good plan. Better if they could find a drawer full of cell phones and he didn’t have to find an excuse to go whooping it up in a spruce forest.

  “Come on.” She shifted her weight foot to foot, her ponytail bobbing. “I have to get back.”

  Her lunchtime shift. “Wait. Tell me about this job.”

  She stopped moving. “It’s the torture they devised for me. You got hardcore work and sleeping rough and I got being made to feel useless.”

  “Oh shit, Rory, that’s—” It was like they’d guessed part of the real reason she was here was to restore her own faith in her abilities.

  She kicked at the ground. “Cult indoctrination 101.”

  They were stripping her of her competence to make her feel insecure. That and her fear something bad had happened to him, thanks to Cal and his hyper-vigilant warnings, explained her reaction last night. She was much more herself this morning.

  “Wait them out. This is a long con, we won’t get it all done in the first week.”

  She grinned. “That’s good because I don’t think you’re quite ready to be a father.”

  He scrubbed both hands through his hair. “I happened to mention that, did I?”

  Rory had a smart-ass expression on her face. “It was a notable info drop.”

  That’s all it would ever be. “They’re big on growing the next generation. But they’re not so big on the family unit. Traditional families are considered quaint. A hangover from the decay that’s tolerated, especially for those that came in that way, but they’re otherwise discouraged.”

  “Another way to isolate people,” she said. “If they want you to father a kid, you have to bond with someone.” She shuddered. “And that means they’ll expect me to bond with someone. There are pregnant women galore here.”

  “We have time before we have to worry about that. They might be a little detached from reality but they’re not going to want us to breed until they know they control us.” The whole concept made him itchy. But it wasn’t any worse than the idea of casual end of the world slavery.

  “You didn’t hear what the women said about you in the dining hall. You won’t need to try hard to find a starter wife.”

  He grimaced. “Very sure I don’t want to hear about that. I did learn they think pregnant women approach sacredness.”

  She shifted foot to foot again. “They’re right about that. Women have been raising families without deadbeat dads for centuries.”

  Rory was on point there. But the Continuer approach essentially institutionalized it. All the men on the construction crew were fathers, none of them had any hand in bringing up their kids and claimed that was a benefit. They might not have voice-activation tech, but fatherhood inside Abundance was hands-free.

  “We really have to go,” Rory said, “I get the night off, no corners to hide in at a barbecue. I can’t be late for lunch.”

  Since he could eat a tractor, he had no complaints about that.

  He didn’t see Rory again until that evening when he called at her cabin to collect her. Cadence opened the door with curl up and die written all over her face. “Oh, it’s you. She’s in the bathroom.”

  No point antagonizing her. “I can wait out here.”

  “Suit yourself.” She left the door ajar and disappeared from view.

  He called after her. “Thank you for letting me stay over.” Then shook his head at his transparent attempt to soften her.

  She appeared in the doorway, frowning. “I know what you’re doing.”

  He pulled a face. “Barking up the wrong tree?”

  She tried not to smile. “I don’t want to like you. I don’t like most people, so don’t go feeling special about that.”

  He gave her a full-wattage smile, known to melt enraged mothers and lacy panties. “Got it. Not into people.”

  Cadence flushed. “Rosie,” she yelled. “Come do something with your brother. He’s awful even when he’s clean.” Then she shut the door on him.

  Mid-double take, Rory opened it. “Oh for God’s sake, come in.” She grabbed his arm and yanked him inside. “Cadence is just messing with you.”

  “No, I’m not,” Cadence said. She was pacing in the space between the galley kitchen and the dining table. “I don’t want to go tonight.”

  “So don’t,” Rory said.

  “I’ll get a black mark against me if I don’t.”

  He cut a look at Rory and she shook her head. Black marks were new intel. “Is that real?” he said. “You can earn black marks and someone keeps a tally of them?”

  Cadence stopped dead. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She curled her arms over her head and bent at the waist. “They wouldn’t want you knowing that. Not yet. Oh God, I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up telling you. Black marks are real. You can get them easily. Too easily. I fucked up. I fucked up. I’ll get another black mark.”

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We won’t say anything. No one has to know.” Rory approached Cadence cautiously, but she reacted by straightening up and backing into the kitchen table making it bark on the floor.

  “Don’t touch me. You’re bad enough, Rosie. You ask questions all the time. You’re supposed to be quiet, freaked out.” She gestured at Zeke. “He makes me anxious. I fucked
up telling you about black marks. I fucked up.”

  Zeke pulled out one of the kitchen table chairs opposite where Cadence stood, her body rigid, arms wrapped around herself, breathing in tight hard gasps. He sat to make himself smaller, less threatening. “I’m sorry I make you nervous. I don’t mean to, but I understand how that might happen. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better right now?”

  He figured she’d ask him to leave, point to the door. “This is my fault. I’m having a panic attack.”

  “Tell me how to help.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. There’s nothing you can do.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I left? If Rosie left? But we wouldn’t want you to be alone while you feel this way, unless that’s what you want.”

  Cadence looked from him to Rory and back again. Her fear was visceral and present, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to talk her down. “Don’t go,” she said, covering her face with her hands.

  “We’re not going anywhere till you feel better,” Rory said.

  It was muttered and fragmented, but Cadence was berating herself, calling herself stupid over and over. A mantra made of her dread.

  Rory moved a chair out and Cadence sat. She was sweating, eyes large and gaze unsteady, still breathing too fast. Rory settled beside her but made sure to put distance between their chairs.

  “I have a friend called Halsey,” Zeke said. “He had panic attacks when we were kids.” Cadence gripped the table with both hands and locked her eyes on his. “They went for about twenty minutes. I used to hug him and make him breathe with me until he felt better.” Because it freaking scared the fuck out of him to see his kid brother drowning in fear. “After that he’d punch me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why did he get them? It’s just how he’s made. Why did he punch me?” Zeke shrugged. “Because I was a shitty friend and a slow learner. I did dumb things that scared him.”

  “Does he still get them?”

  “He still has anxiety, but he’s learned how to protect himself from the worst of it and lately he’s been more relaxed about leaving his comfort zone.”

  Cadence softened her grip on the table, but her eyes filled with tears. “I get like this when I have to be social. I don’t like most people.” She hugged herself, rocking slightly. “I hate feeling like this. I hate that you saw me this way. You shouldn’t have come. It’s a mistake. It’s not what it seems. When you get a black mark, they make you do things you don’t want.”

  He kept his attention on Cadence. “You don’t need to be afraid. You’re Rosie’s cabinmate, and Rosie is my world, has been since we were kids.” No lie in that. “I will protect her with my life.” Or that. “I’ll protect you too. I won’t let anyone make you do something you don’t want.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  He was momentarily stumped for a response. Cadence was every Continuer and every well-meaning person who’d been taken advantage of by someone with an evil agenda. She had his protection without question. That’s what being a Sherwood meant.

  “Because I’d ask him to.” Rory to the rescue. “And because he always keeps his promises.”

  Tears spilled from Cadence’s eyes and Rory moved her chair closer, leaned a little so their shoulders were almost touching. Cadence went the rest of the way, leaning into Rory and then accepting Rory’s arm around her back as Rory said, “We’ll work it out. We’ll stick together.”

  He took that as a sign the worst had passed, rumbled around in the kitchen and found herbal tea, made a mug for Cadence and put it in front of her. She was breathing more normally and had stopped crying. He had to take advantage of that. She hadn’t meant to tell them about black marks. Like as not she’d clam up once she’d fully recovered.

  “Why are you worried about getting a black mark?” he said.

  “I’m not.” She pushed the mug away. “It was nonsense. Doesn’t mean anything. I was raving.”

  That wasn’t clamming up, it was throwing chains and a padlock around a problem, setting it in cement and sinking it in the sea.

  “Is that true? You seemed really frightened,” Rory said.

  Cadence looked at the table. “It was nothing.”

  “You can punch me,” Zeke said.

  She looked at him like he’d announced he had wings.

  He shrugged. “Just a suggestion. I have it on good authority it will make you feel a lot better.”

  She reached for the mug. “You think I’m crazy?”

  “No more than Rosie or me.”

  Cadence took a sip of the tea. It had a fragrance he couldn’t identify, but that could be because it’d been a week since he’d had a sugary, milky, coffee-flavored concoction and he had cravings.

  “If you don’t do what you’re told, you get a black mark in the Origins book. If you get enough black marks, you have to leave. That means you won’t be saved. You have to go back to the decay to die. I wouldn’t make it out there. I wouldn’t.”

  “That’s why you were so worried when I went to HQ,” Rory said.

  “Maybe they already gave you a black mark.”

  “How do I find out? How many do you have to get before they throw you out?”

  “Only Orrin knows.”

  Rory played her part. She stood and shifted about as if she was genuinely worried. “People really get told to leave?”

  Cadence nodded. Zeke glanced at Rory. If that was true, why had they been unable to find escapees to talk to? Were there other ways people were forced to leave Abundance, never to be heard of again?

  “That’s why you have to go to the dance, isn’t it? Why you can’t stay home,” he said.

  “I can’t risk another black mark. I didn’t bond last year. They warned me I had to bond, and I didn’t. I didn’t do it for two years and now my time is up.”

  “Bond with me,” Rory said, sliding into her seat. “If we bond then they can’t give either of us a black mark.”

  “It doesn’t work like that. A bond is only between a man and a woman who have sex to have children. Everything else is just friendship. And every fertile woman has to bond every year until she’s had six children.”

  “Do you want to be a mom?” Rory asked. Zeke would’ve sworn he heard the word six ricochet inside her head.

  Cadence gulped the tea and coughed hard. “I don’t want to go back to the decay, so yeah, I’ll be a mom if it means I get to stay. Do you?”

  “Hell, no. I’m not ready to be a mom.”

  Cadence hissed. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.”

  “It’s just us though, right. We’re roommates.”

  “I’m supposed to watch you, so I can tell Spencer how you’re settling in.”

  “You mean spy on me. I figured.”

  “I had to do it.” She pushed her chair away from Rory’s. “I had to go through your bags. I didn’t have a choice.”

  “You’d get another black mark.”

  Cadence’s head was lowered, and she spoke to her lap. “I should tell them Zack stayed here, that you go running everywhere at night. I don’t want to do it.” She looked up. “I won’t tell if you don’t say anything about the panic attack, about me not wanting to bond, about me telling you the truth now.” There was an edge of fear in her voice again. “You could do it and it would maybe clear your mark but—”

  Rory cut her off. “We won’t do that. We’ll be our own little family and take care of each other.”

  “I’ve never really had a family. My parents didn’t care about me, gave me money to leave them alone. I don’t know why you’d want to be my family?”

  “Because our dad didn’t care about us either,” Zeke said. Nothing further from the truth. They were quiet while Cadence digested that.

  “You still make me nervous,” she said eventually, her voice steadier, almost back to her prickly cactus self.

  He grinned at her tear-streaked, flushed face. “I’ll try not to make any sudden moves.”
/>   At least none that she needed to worry about.

  Chapter Eight

  The sweet smell of hickory wood fire and barbecue made Rory’s stomach growl as they arrived at the playing field for the social, but the press of people, the capering of kids shouting and chasing each other around, made Cadence hunch in on herself.

  Zeke had promised they wouldn’t leave her alone at the party. She couldn’t fault him for it. He was the only one of the Sherwoods to regularly take a long-term deep-cover role. Everyone else for the most part played themselves with necessary modifications for safety.

  In the last few years he’d been a beard-wearing art-dealer, graying at the temples, arrogant and aloof, and a rare-wine broker, mysterious, impatient and sporting a British accent. No doubt once they’d finished here he’d go back to playing a character part with disguises and tics that marked him out as different to the real Zeke.

  One of the reasons he’d been so keen to do this job was that despite the operational cover story, Zack Woods was Zeke Sherwood. There were no put-on attitudes or costumes, there was minimal acting required. He got to play a slightly toned-down version of himself.

  And the real Zeke Sherwood was a good man with a generous heart.

  As they stopped at the edge of the gathering to let Cadence gather her courage, Rory knocked into him, letting her shoulder brush his arm, her hip briefly graze his thigh. It was a shorthand way of expressing her joy at having him close, her appreciate for his consideration He put his hand to the back of her neck and gave her a playful shove, but since he didn’t let go she stumbled and bounced against him.

  “Careful,” he said, grinning down at her.

  “Quit it,” she groused, foxing annoyance, and squirming out of his grip. She needed to get him alone to tell him she was going to go hit up HQ like she’d planned. It would be safer for only one of them to go missing.