by Wendy Rosnau
“A nineteen-year-old who can shoot an Austrian Steyr as good as her old man. Perfection has replaced perfection. That’s what Holic told Merrick.”
“I know what the hell she is. And what she isn’t. Holic no longer controls her thoughts or her actions.”
“She’s killed two agents. One of them was ours.”
“I know that.”
“And you told me she came here to kill you.”
“Because she thought her mother was dead and that I was as much to blame as Bjorn. But as you can see, I’m not dead.”
“What’s with the duct tape?”
Jacy’s jaw clenched. “A new fashion statement here in Montana. Like it?”
He headed into the living room, picked up the iron poker and stirred the hot coals in the fireplace.
“She tried something, didn’t she? She tried to kill you.”
“Before she made the phone call to her mother we had a little scuffle. But I handled it. She won’t do anything like that again.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then you trust her?”
Jacy looked over his shoulder. “Trust is a delicate matter, but yes, I trust her.”
“And me? I haven’t betrayed you, Jacy. You can still trust me. I’m worried about your choices in this situation, but I haven’t sold you out. What I came here for was—”
“To change my mind. Not happening.”
“If I move, is this damn animal going to castrate me?”
“No. He’s keeping an eye on you because he can hear in my voice that I’m not happy with you right now, but he won’t do anything unless I tell him to.”
“That’s comforting.” Pierce slowly took a seat on a chair near the fireplace. Matwau followed and sat down on his haunches a few feet away to watch his every move. Pierce asked, “Where is she?”
“Asleep. And, no, I’m not going to wake her. She’s exhausted. She’s had a helluva day.”
“Damn possessive, aren’t you?”
“I won’t deny it. She needs someone to stand beside her right now.”
“And you’ve elected yourself that someone.”
“I won’t deny that either.”
Jacy tossed a log into the fire. Taking a seat on the end of the couch, he said, “Holic lied to her. She’s been a pawn in his game since he took her with him that night he left Groffen and headed for Glass Mountain. Actually, before that. He bought her a gun when she was ten and put her on a firing range. He may be in an iron cell, but he’s still controlling things from the inside.”
“I agree. And since we learned the Chameleon is still alive he’s probably still on his payroll.”
“I still don’t understand that. How can the Chameleon still be alive?”
“The DNA work is complete. The body we have has been positively identified as Pavvo Creon.”
“Creon’s been dead for years.”
“That’s what we thought. Looks like we were wrong. Do you have any coffee? I’ve had a chill in my bones since I left D.C.”
“It’s that thin Southern skin of yours,” Jacy remarked.
It was while Jacy was making coffee that Pierce got a phone call from Merrick.
Chapter 15
Merrick sent Sarah home in a cab, then hurried to Onyxx headquarters. When he got there he immediately went to the holding block. It was true, Otto had strangled a guard and escaped. The building had been searched and the conclusion was that he’d walked out of the building wearing the guard’s uniform.
How in the hell could that happen?
In his office Merrick gave Pierce a call. “I want you here right away. What? You’re in Montana! What the hell are you doing there?”
“I came to talk to Jacy.”
“To convince him to bring in the girl?”
“Oui, something like that.”
“Jacy is more involved with this girl than you wanted to admit. Deny it.”
“I can’t. He’s being stubborn.”
“I like stubborn, when it’s working for me, not against me. And my agents don’t call the shots. I do. Did you talk to her?”
“Not yet. I just got here. But I’ve never seen Jacy like this. He’s not going to hand her over without us cutting her a deal. He tells me she knows who has the kill-file.”
“Who?”
“Otto Breit. If we can get him to talk—”
Merrick swore. “That’s the reason I’m calling. Otto Breit escaped from his holding cell tonight. He strangled a guard and took his ID. We don’t have any leads on where he’s gone.”
“When?”
“The guard was bringing him a meal tray. So my guess is six hours ago, but it hasn’t been confirmed yet. I put a double guard on Holic at Clume, but hell, this is suddenly turning messy. Get back on a plane and make sure Jacy and Prisca Reznik get on it with you. Pronto. And tell Jacy it’s damn hard to see where you’re going with your head stuck up your ass, so pull the plug.”
Holic lay on his bunk feeling smug and victorious. Let Merrick think he needed surgery to fix his hands. Let them think that he was vulnerable. Pathetic, even.
He was neither. He’d agreed to become the sacrificial lamb to twist the knife a little deeper, and for his loyalty he was going to be well paid.
The Chameleon had promised him a substantial bonus, far more than ever before to play this lock-up game. At first he’d thought it was a joke—hearing the Chameleon’s voice on the phone months ago. After all, he’d believed, like everyone else, that the Chameleon had died in Greece. But it wasn’t true. Onyxx had failed again.
Holic had heard the smug pleasure in the Chameleon’s voice when he’d said the words. The game was never going to end, the Chameleon had promised, and Holic believed him. The man was a master criminal—the best in the business.
Holic rolled onto his side, ready to settle in for a restful sleep. He closed his eyes, and a vision of Prisca came to him.
“Oh, yes, perfection,” he mused out loud. His daughter was his fruit, and he had taken great care in nurturing her, and watching her mature into a ripe beauty.
She loved him; her loyalty was unblemished. It was all part of the grand scheme that was going to set the intelligence world into a catastrophic tailspin. A conspiracy that would make him as rich as the master himself.
Prisca woke up cold. She stirred, rolled over on her back and pulled the blanket up to her chin. That was when she realized Jacy wasn’t in bed with her any longer.
She sat up and blinked to focus in the darkness. The room was ice-cold, and she saw that the window was open. That Jacy was a shadow standing by the open window looking at her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He came toward her, and she realized that he was no longer limping. That there was something different about his confident gait. His height… He seemed taller, and he was wearing a coat.
Then she caught the pungent scent of oranges drifting on the cold night air. She clutched the blanket as recognition dawned.
Otto had found her.
She pushed back the blankets and got out of bed. She was wearing one of Jacy’s flannel shirts and a pair of underwear. As her feet came in contact with the wood floor a chill raced up her spine.
He motioned to her to be quiet and when he raised his hand, she saw that he had a gun. He glanced at the door, then he did something unexpected—he scooped her up in his arms and hugged her so tight that her breath caught.
“Oh, Miss Pris,” he whispered close to her ear. “I’ve been so worried. I’m sorry I let this happen to you. But I’m here now, and you’re going to be safe again.”
He loosened his hold on her and when her feet were back on the floor, she looked up at him. Without warning he lowered his head and kissed her. It was solid, and rife with emotion—a blatant expression of his true feelings for her.
Da, he loved her. Loved her with his whole heart, in the same way she loved Jacy Moon Madox.
“Come, Miss Pris
. I’ll get you safely away, and then I’ll come back.”
Then I’ll come back. He meant he would come back to the cabin and kill Jacy. There was no way she could let that happen.
“I’ve seen to everything,” he said as he pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her, then grabbed her hand and led her to the open window. “I’ll carry you. It’s not far. I’ve brought you everything you need,” he promised as he climbed back out the window, then held his hands out to her.
In that moment Pris made a decision, and at the fore-front of that decision was Jacy’s safety. She had no idea where he was at the moment, but Otto was definitely armed and it was evident that he meant to kill Jacy.
Quickly she slipped through the window and into Otto’s arms.
Pierce had just shoved his phone into his pocket when the phone that hung on Jacy’s kitchen wall rang. Jacy reached for it as he slid a cup of coffee to his friend.
It was probably Tate drunk somewhere and needing a ride. Well, this time he was going to have to get his ass back home on his own power. He didn’t have time for Tate’s nonsense at the moment.
“Hello.”
“Issohko?”
“Yes, Grandmother. Why are you calling so late?”
“It’s sisttsi nan. I’ve had a vision, and I fear she’s in danger. I see a shadow hanging over her. He’s come for her.”
“Who, Grandmother?”
“The one who seeks her, Grandson. A shadow from the past.”
“But she’s fine. She’s asleep.”
The minute he said the words he heard Matwau growl, and he walked back into the living room to see the animal had left the room and was headed down the hall. Jacy swore, said, “We’ll talk later,” then hung up the phone.
He hurried through the living room and passed Matwau in the hall. He flung open his bedroom door, and a blast of winter air stopped him cold in his tracks. Koko’s warning was real. Pris was gone.
The shadow from the past had already come and gone.
Jacy turned around and saw Pierce standing in the hall. He realized he was saying something, asking him what the hell was going on.
“She’s gone,” he heard himself say, and the words were hard to swallow—churning up bile in his gut.
“She’s run off.”
“No,” Jacy said. “Someone came through the window and took her. Pris would never leave on her own.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I know, dammit!”
“Maybe she rethought things. She’s Holic’s daughter. Maybe she was playing you, and—”
Jacy spun around, “If you finish that sentence I’m going to break your jaw. She’s not like Holic. Never was and never will be.”
“Then I’ve led him to her,” Pierce said.
“What?”
“When Merrick called just now he said Otto Breit escaped from his holding cell. What if he followed me here?”
That Otto had slipped into his house and taken Pris made Jacy livid. Right now he’d rather see her in the hands of the agency than in the hands of Breit—a man who cared for her beyond friendship.
Jacy left the house, with Pierce on his heels and Matwau out in front of him. They tracked the footprints through the snow—one set of man-size prints—concluding that Otto had taken Pris by force and was carrying her. The prints led them through the woods a mile to the road where they found tire tracks. A vehicle had parked, then turned around.
It was Breit, Jacy concluded. Who else would have followed Pierce? It all fit together too damn neatly.
He recalled how he’d left Pris in his bed. She’d been wearing one of his shirts and not much else. If Breit was in a hurry—and that made sense—then she’d been stolen right out of his bed with no shoes and no coat.
“Sonofabitch.”
“What are you thinking?” Pierce asked.
“She couldn’t get away from him if she wanted to. She was wearing damn little for clothing.”
Jacy watched Pierce raise his eyebrows.
“I guess that means you two made up after she tried to kill you.”
“It means I care about her more than my own life.”
Pierce shook his head. “That explains why you’ve been acting like a grizzly bear since we found her gone.”
“I don’t need to hear a lecture on agency policy and personal involvement.”
“I wasn’t going there. As an old friend of mine used to say, the heart doesn’t discriminate. Not by age or creed. It just feels what it feels. Like a homing pigeon.”
“If you knew her like I do then… No, if you knew her the way I do, I’d have to kill you. Which is what I intend to do to Breit if he’s harmed her in any way.”
“After we get a confession from him and the kill-file,” Pierce reminded.
Jacy hesitated, then said, “Otto isn’t only Pris’s partner. He’s in love with her. What if he feels betrayed for finding her in my room? What if he’s as cold a bastard as Holic? When you interrogated him, what did you think?”
“That he’s not the kind of man to walk away from a fight. Personal or otherwise. He strangled a guard at the agency to escape. A bold act. He had no idea he could walk out without being stopped. That takes balls.”
“Then we don’t have a lot of time to find out where he’s taken her.”
“He won’t go far. My guess is he’s going to want to take us on. But first he’s going to tuck her away somewhere safe.”
“It would be for the best. I don’t want her in the middle of this.”
“Like it or not, Jacy, she’s smack in the middle. She’s been there from the moment she was born. We don’t choose who our parents are. We get what we get, good or bad.”
The comment reminded Jacy that Pierce had never spoken of his own family—only of an elderly man named Saber Lazie.
“So where would Otto Breit take her?” Pierce asked.
“He’s driving an SUV judging by the tire treads. I guess I’m back checking motels in the area.”
“You mean we are. I’m going with you.”
Jacy headed into his office, and Pierce trailed after him. Jacy went to a steel safe in the corner and opened it with a combination from memory. He pulled out a rifle, and two handguns, then went back down the hall to Pris’s bedroom. He quickly packed a pair of jeans and a sweater for her. Her brown soft leather boots. Then he grabbed her wool coat.
Pierce continued to trail him. “Where are we going first?”
“East Glacier, then Browning.” Jacy dialed Koko, still speaking to Pierce. “If he does head back here I plan to have someone close by to give us a heads up.”
Jacy told Koko what had happened, not in great detail, but enough to explain why he would be gone. “Tell Tate I want him to get over here. Tell him I want him sober and packing some heat. And I want him to stake out the house from the barn. He should be able to see the surrounding area and who comes and goes from the second story. Tell him I don’t want him showing himself. This guy we’re tracking is armed and dangerous. Tate is to stay put and give me a call if anyone shows up. That’s all.”
“Be careful, issohko. I’ve seen more in my vision. Sisttsi nan isn’t the only one in danger. It walks with you, too.”
Pris convinced Otto to stop at the Mountain View Motel in East Glacier. It was where Jacy had found her, and where her Bronco still sat.
Otto agreed, then rented a room under an alias. He took in their bags, and checked out the room while she sat and waited in his white SUV. On the ride, he had handed her a bag that had clothing in it. Inside she’d found jeans, sweaters, a pair of boots and socks. She had pulled on the jeans and footwear. He’d even bought her a new wool coat. She had noticed he was wearing the scarf he’d given her months ago, and on the ride, he had slipped it off his neck and handed it to her.
As always, as if nothing had changed, Otto had seen to every detail. He seemed to know what she needed in every area of her life. He’d even bought her a bag of oranges—
his favorite, not hers, but he insisted she eat one a day because it was good for her.
He hadn’t spoken much as he’d carried her from Jacy’s cabin to his awaiting vehicle. Only how sorry he was that he’d allowed her to be captured.
What would he think if he knew she had left Vienna on her own? Pris decided not to tell him. He seemed different, more protective than ever, and more than anxious to deal with Jacy.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Did Jacy know she was gone? Did he think she had run?
He no doubt did. He would come after her either way. That’s why she needed to find out where the kill-file was as soon as possible, and where Otto stood in all of this.
Had her father taken him into his confidence? Did Otto know her mother was alive?
She had been aware while she’d dressed that he’d glanced her way more than once. That he’d stared at Jacy’s shirt a long while once they had pulled into the motel. What had he been thinking? Did he know whose room she’d been sleeping in?
When they were inside, he said, “I bought you two sweaters in your favorite colors. There is no longer a need to wear that.” He pointed to the flannel shirt as she took off the black coat he’d brought her.
She opened the bag that he’d packed for her and pulled out a soft blue cashmere V-neck, then entered the bathroom to put it on. It was dawn now and the day looked gray and threatening. More snow wasn’t going to help her escape once she made her move.
When she came out Otto had taken off his black leather coat and was seated at the table peeling an orange.
“Sit down, Miss Pris. We need to talk.”
“Da, we do,” she said, then sat across from him. She wasn’t sure how to begin to find out what she needed to know. Carefully, she asked, “How did you find me?”
“I followed the agent from Washington.”
“What agent?”
“The Onyxx man named Pierce Fourtier.”
She recognized the name. Jacy had talked about a man named Pierce, but he hadn’t told her he was expecting him at the cabin.
