by Eva Chase
“Yeah. Here are the coordinates. I found a good spot. Equally isolated.” I crinkled a slip of paper as if I were passing it to him. “We’ll need some construction work too to set up new buildings.”
“I’ll add that to the list.” Bash smirked at me, enjoying the con. “Is there anything else you need from me right now?”
“Just lay low. They’ve been sticking close to me—I’m not sure how they’re managing it. I don’t even trust my phones anymore. I’ll signal you the usual way if we need to talk again.”
“It’s a pleasure to work with you as always.”
He tipped his head to me, and I nodded to give him the go-ahead to leave. As he walked away, I glanced toward the wall.
I could wander off myself and let John head back to report on what he’d heard unhindered. But it would be a lot more fun to keep him on his toes. We wouldn’t want him to feel he’d gotten what he wanted too easily, would we?
I suppressed a smirk of my own and let out a sigh, deliberately letting my feet scrape against the ground as I headed around the wall so he’d have a little warning.
John’s walking stick knocked the stone in his haste to hustle away. When I came around the wall, he was standing by a map of the park several feet closer to the gate, his face only slightly flushed. Not a bad feint—not bad at all. I pushed my mouth into a frown and marched over.
“Hello again,” I said, propping myself against the sign. “I’m starting to think you’ve signed up as my new shadow. The old one does work just fine.”
John blinked at me, doing a decent job of pretending surprise, even if he didn’t quite have Sherlock’s poker face. He was rather terribly adorable.
“Jemma!” he said. “I was just passing the time while Sherlock’s off on some mission he didn’t want to explain.” He hesitated. “Oh, that’s very clever. You followed me here and managed to slip in ahead, didn’t you?”
He shook his head with a wry smile, and, okay, I could give him credit for an excellent gambit. Spinning the situation so the accuser suddenly became the accused was one of my favorite tactics too.
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Oh, no, don’t try to turn this around on me. Why would I need to follow you around when your only business here is messing with me?”
“Maybe it’s a real coincidence then,” John said, still smiling. “What are you doing here, then? Playing tourist?”
I shrugged. “I like watching animals when I have a spare hour or two. They’re so much simpler than human beings. It looks like you just got here. What were you looking to see first?”
He glanced back at the map, which I suspected he hadn’t really studied in his hurry to look as if he were studying it and not eavesdropping. “Ah, I’ve always been fond of the chimps. Mainly because they aren’t all that simple.”
“I hadn’t made it that far yet,” I said. “Why don’t I join you? And you can buy me an ice cream to make up for acting like a stalker.”
“Of course you would want an ice cream,” John said, sounding amused, but he was studying me at the same time. Wondering what my intentions were, no doubt. Eager to get back to report to Sherlock, but also probably hoping he might catch me in a tiny slip that would give him even more to report. And he might have another reason or two to like the thought of sticking around.
I wet my lips. “I didn’t leave my sweet tooth behind in London. Come on.” I gave his arm a gentle shove, and he went, twirling his walking stick before applying it to the ground.
It wasn’t far to the nearest ice cream stand. I asked for chocolate and grinned while John dug out the cash to pay. He couldn’t quite manage to look disgruntled about it.
He also couldn’t quite manage to stop his gaze from twitching to my mouth as I gave the creamy chocolate scoop a generous swipe of my tongue. The flicker of hunger in his eyes was almost as delicious as the treat in my hand.
It might have been too long since I’d gotten to act on my own carnal appetites. My work over the last several weeks hadn’t required any intimate encounters—and, to be honest, the thought of picking up some random man in a bar just to scratch an itch hadn’t been all that appealing after the very satisfying time I’d had in London. Where was I going to find anyone with Garrett’s passionate determination, or John’s earnest enthusiasm, or Sherlock’s unplumbed depths of desire?
It wasn’t safe to let myself even consider Bash.
Better that I let those memories fade a little longer. As fun as it was to tease, what were the chances any of the trio was going to give me another shot between the sheets now that they had some idea of who I really was?
“So, you like chimps, hmm?” I said as we strolled that way. I slipped my hand around John’s elbow and licked the ice cream again, feeling the thump of his pulse under my fingers.
“They say the apes have an almost human-like intelligence,” John said, keeping his tone casual enough. “I always wonder what they’d tell us if we could properly communicate.”
“Probably to leave them the hell alone already,” I remarked, and John chuckled. “Speaking of human intelligence, what did Sherlock tell you about this mission he’s abandoned you for?”
John’s fading chuckle turned into a cough. “I think I’m offended that you figured there was any chance I might answer that.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” I patted his arm soothingly. “I have no doubts about your loyalties. Presumably he’s investigating something to do with me, so perhaps if you told me I could offer some assistance.”
John outright laughed at that. “Oh, I’m sure you would. Assistance in pointing him in completely the wrong direction.”
“I didn’t lead you that far astray in London, did I? You got your man.”
“I guess we did.” He stopped at the edge of the path between two of the enclosures and turned to face me. His expression had become abruptly intent. “Who are you really, Jemma? Is this you, the way you’re talking with me now, or is it just another mask you’re putting on?”
The unexpected question pricked at me. “What makes you think any of it is a mask?” I said tartly. “I was the woman you got to know in London, the one you believed was a ‘kindred spirit.’ I’m the woman I am now. I’m whoever I need to be as the situation requires it.”
He held my gaze as if trying to read more than I’d said from my eyes. “No one’s just a collection of appearances. There has to be something you want, something that drives you, beneath all that.”
“I never said there wasn’t.”
He shifted his arm, freeing it from my grasp and cupping my elbow in his own hand. “When we were talking that one night in London, you told me you lost someone important to you a long time ago. That was true, wasn’t it?”
An uneasy shiver ran through my chest to my gut. This wasn’t where I’d intended this conversation to go. I should never have shared that with him.
“I told you a lot of stories,” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “But I know what real grief looks like. I lost my older brother, years ago—to carelessness and alcohol, but he used to be the person I looked up to most.” He swallowed the roughness from his voice. “The way that feels, I could see in you.”
Kindred spirits indeed. Except he’d lost the sibling who should have been protecting him, and I’d lost the one I should have protected.
My stomach had tightened into a ball, but I kept my smile on my face and grasped onto the one thing I could control. I couldn’t let him see he’d put me off balance, so I’d have to throw him off just as much. And I knew exactly the way to spin this conversation around.
I rested my hand on his broad chest, lowering my eyes to look at him through my lashes. “Are you trying to turn me into a fair maiden who needs to be rescued, John? You don’t need to go to that much trouble. You’re sweet, and I do love sweet things. We could go back to wherever you’re staying right now, and I’d happily show you how much.”
I slicked my tongue over my nearly finished ice cream.
A flush raced up John’s neck with a slight hitch of his breath. He stepped back, and I let my hand fall.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said.
“Maybe not,” I said agreeably, already feeling steadier on my feet. “But doesn’t that make you want to do it more? What could it hurt, really? You don’t honestly think another little dalliance with me would put you in any danger, do you?”
His jaw worked. “I don’t know.”
“You want to know the truth?” I eased a tad closer and let my voice drop as low as a caress. “I am fucking dangerous. I can kill a man with my bare hands, and I know because I’ve done it. But I haven’t needed to go to those lengths in years, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible. So really, you’re perfectly safe.”
John’s lips parted, but he didn’t appear to know what to say. For all his body had tensed, his pupils had dilated while I’d spoken. I’d frightened him a little, and oh, how that turned him on.
He didn’t want a damsel half as much as he wanted to tempt peril, and he could see both in me, wrapped up in one neat bow. I’d give him some time to stew on that.
Before he’d recovered himself, I bobbed up to kiss his cheek. “Enjoy the apes. You know where to come looking for me when you make up your mind.”
I slipped away and headed for the entrance. If he made any move to follow, it wasn’t fast enough. I strode past the gates and on down the street to hail a cab.
I could almost call checkmate. We’d see where the game led next.
Chapter Seven
Sherlock
“I don’t know what this all adds up to other than it’s very, very weird.” Garrett jabbed his kebab skewer toward the end of the table where I’d laid out a map of the country. He’d brought take-out dinner for the three of us to the two-bedroom suite John and I had managed to obtain across the hall from his own room. The common living-dining space gave us plenty of room to discuss our discoveries and strategy.
The sharp flavor of the meat lingered in my mouth, a little heavier on the spice than I generally preferred, but I didn’t see the value in complaining to the inspector detective. He’d been in a rather combative mood since we’d first seen Jemma.
I pressed down on the last bit of tobacco I’d scooped into my pipe and brought the stem to my mouth to take a few puffs while I lit it. The rich earthy smoke filled my lungs and smoothed out my thoughts into clearer lines.
“Perhaps ‘weird,’ but we can piece together a decent picture from the evidence we’ve gathered.” I tapped the map. “She’s gone off surveying the less-traversed areas of the country’s mountain ranges. She expressed interest in moving a small community from an isolated spot of high elevation to another. Whatever that community means to her, it’s something important and that she believes our involvement would interrupt. I think we can safely assume local law enforcement wouldn’t be pleased if they found out either.”
“What could she have an entire village doing for her?” John asked, leaning back in his chair. He hadn’t completely sat still since he’d returned from his mission to observe Jemma’s secretive meeting at the zoo. Normally I wouldn’t have paid his restlessness much mind, but it was becoming unusually prolonged.
I studied his expression. “I’d imagine there are any number of illicit ventures she could be involved in. Obviously our next task is to locate this ‘commune’ before she can relocate their base of operations and determine what work they’re doing for her. Did she say anything while you were with her that gave even a small hint?”
“No,” my friend said. “Not that I caught on to, anyway. She’s very careful about what she says.” He paused, rocking the chair’s front feet a little off the floor. “It did seem like something had changed since we last talked, though.”
Garrett’s head jerked up. “In what way?”
John twisted the handle of his walking stick in his grasp, his mouth slanting at an awkward angle. He looked at the map rather than either of us. “When I spoke to her a few days ago at the cathedral, she made a point of saying that we were ‘done’—that she wasn’t going to have anything more to do with us if she had her way. Today… She suggested I take her back to my room so we could, ah, pick up where we left off.”
He’d kept his voice reasonably even, but the tips of his ears had flared. That explained a few things.
It shouldn’t have mattered—it didn’t matter—and yet a little spark of irritation flickered up inside me. That she was still coming on to him that way? That he had clearly been tempted?
No, it didn’t matter at all. I snuffed out the spark and made myself chuckle. “She’s certainly never been shy.”
“But that means something has changed,” Garrett said. His shoulders had tensed, but his tone was almost hopeful. He tossed his cleaned skewer onto his plate. “She wants something from us—maybe just to know how close we are on her trail. She’s willing to get close to us to accomplish her ends. We could use that willingness, couldn’t we?”
I shifted my full attention to him. He hadn’t talked quite like that before. “What do you mean?”
He spread his hands. “Turn her tactics around on her. If we can get into her room, we’d have a chance at lifting one of those phones or her tablet where she’s doing so much of her planning. We might see something useful, or she might give away something in the heat of the moment.”
He paused and seemed to notice for the first time that both John and I were staring at him. His mouth tightened. “What? It isn’t as if we haven’t already crossed a hell of a lot of lines dealing with her. If you don’t want to sleep with her, then don’t sleep with her. I was just making a point.”
“A fair point,” I said mildly. “I’m only wondering whether you could be dispassionate enough to come out unscathed. She got under your skin quite a bit on our first run around.”
Garrett glowered at me, but he couldn’t argue that fact. “I’d know what I’m getting into this time,” he insisted.
He’d have to forgive me for not being entirely convinced. “Your line of thinking is solid, all the same,” I said. “Putting aside physical intimacy, her overture to John suggests she’ll be more open to entertaining conversation—flirting, as it were, with possibilities.”
I took another puff on my pipe and nodded to myself. Garrett and John were too romantic by nature to stay detached when Jemma had already stirred up their emotions. What she and I had exchanged had only ever really been a quid pro quo transaction.
I straightened up. “I think it’s time I spoke with her directly again. Perhaps I can tease out a few answers—ones she might not even realize she’s giving me.” A quick check of the tracking app on my phone showed me she was currently at her hotel a quarter mile away.
“You’re going now?” John said, looking as if he were about to get up and then catching himself.
“No time like the present. From the conversation you overheard, covering up her activities will be difficult, but she’s pursuing the options with some urgency.”
Garrett crossed his arms. “And we should just sit around here while you have your chat with her?”
“No,” I said. “You can get to work searching for signs of small secluded habitations in Croatia’s areas of higher elevation. Between the two of you, you should have enough knowledge and connections to come up with a few avenues of inquiry.”
“Sherlock,” John started, with a note in his voice that made something twinge low in my gut, like—like a moment it wouldn’t do either of us any use to think about. I glanced at him, and he gave me a sheepish smile. “Be careful.”
“I think I can hold my own against one woman, brilliant as she may be,” I said.
It was hardly worth summoning a taxi when my destination was less than a ten-minute walk away. This section of Zagreb didn’t have quite the same austere quality as the streets I’d often roamed through in London while sorting through my thoughts, but stretching my legs as I passed the modern storefronts s
till brought a certain calm. I tuned out the jangling of the radio playing through an open car window and focused on the task ahead of me.
In Jemma’s hotel, I strode up to the front desk with an ingratiating smile. The only time they’d seen me before, I’d been in full disguise—I didn’t expect anyone here would recognize me. Thankfully, we’d managed to determine what name Jemma had checked in with through a brief comment overheard.
“One of your guests asked me to have you call up when I’d arrived to meet with her. Ms. Matthams. You can tell her Sherlock Holmes will be waiting for her in the bar.”
“Of course, sir,” the woman behind the desk said. She looked at her computer and picked up the phone to convey my message. I was trusting that Jemma would be curious enough about my intentions to come down.
“I will. Thank you,” the clerk said to whatever Jemma had responded, and hung up. “She says she’ll be down shortly, sir.”
I tipped my head to her in thanks and headed into the bar. At this time in the evening, the stools along the slick glass counter were mostly taken, no two free side-by-side. I found an empty table in a corner that wasn’t too noisy, ordered a martini, and sat back to watch for Jemma’s arrival.
Several minutes passed. I sipped my martini and tried not to dwell too much on the growing possibility that she was toying with me. I was ninety-nine percent certain she’d make her appearance. Well, perhaps ninety-five, at this point.
I was down to the vicinity of eighty percent when Jemma’s slim form emerged under the bar’s glaring lights. The red waves of her hair drifted over her shoulders in stark contrast with the dusty rose hue of her silk blouse. Her slacks looked neatly pressed. She’d changed since this morning’s outings. Earlier, or just now, for me?
She wasn’t carrying her usual large leather purse but a simple cloth clutch a slightly deeper shade of pink than her blouse. The color in her cheeks as she dropped into the seat across from me suggested she’d rushed some coming down. I certainly didn’t imagine the thought of meeting me had provoked that reaction on its own.