And possibly Dade.
It hadn’t escaped her noticed that he was looking for exactly the same things she was. He’d been trained the same way. His accent was clearly American, so he couldn’t be KOS. But he’d been trained to kill, to know how to disappear.
Again, she wondered just who he was.
Dade slid the mattress off the box spring. In the center of the bed the surface sagged. Dade grabbed the pen from the bedside and stabbed a hole in the thin material, ripping it toward him. As he pulled it aside to reveal the interior of the box spring, a semiautomatic Colt M4 Commando stared Anna in the face.
She felt her stomach drop.
You trusted her. You should have known.
Anna felt sick as the truth was hammered home. Every meaningless conversation Shelli had engaged her in about the weather had been carefully calculated to gain Anna’s trust. Every casual question about Anna’s apartment, her family, how she’d spent the weekend before taking on sinister meaning now.
Dade pulled a handgun from the box spring. He flipped it over in his hand, clicked the magazine free, dropping five bullets into the palm of his hand. He was clearly comfortable with the weapon. He picked up another one, disarming it the same way.
Anna looked from Dade to the small arsenal. If she could distract him for just a minute, she might be able to get her hands on a weapon …
“She didn’t have time to dispose of these properly,” Dade observed. “She left in a hurry.”
“Maybe she planned on coming back?” Anna asked. She inched closer to the hollowed bed. There was a Sig pistol sitting near the edge. It was small, slim, would fit easily in the pocket of her jeans. All she needed was a second to slip it on her person.
Dade shook his head. “I don’t think so. Would you have come back?”
No. She would have run as far as she could. Probably what she should be doing now.
“Check the bathroom,” Dade directed.
Anna wavered a minute, eyeing the pistol.
But, as if he could read her mind, Dade snatched it into his hands and relieved it of ammunition just as he had the others.
It had been a long shot anyway. If Dade was as good as he appeared, no way would he have let her sneak the gun into her pocket.
Don’t worry. There will be another opportunity. There always is.
Instead, she did as directed, leaving Dade to examine Shelli’s arsenal as she slipped into the adjacent bathroom. Dade left the bedroom door open, she noticed, keeping one eye on her as she opened the bathroom drawers, the medicine cabinet. As with the kitchen, everything was in order to look like a typical single woman’s apartment. Tylenol, Midol, and a pack of Band-Aids sat in the medicine cabinet. None of them ever opened.
She pulled open the bathroom drawers. Comb. Brush. Both void of any hair or sign of use.
Anna sighed, shut the drawer. It was futile. If Shelli had ever had personal effects here, she had taken the time to dispose of them thoroughly.
“What do you think of these?” Dade asked, coming into the room behind her. In his hand was a stack of postcards. Three were decorated with pictures of the wharf. One showed Coit Tower, another Ghirardelli Square. Dade handed her the one of Ghirardelli.
Anna flipped the card over in her hand. Sprawling script in ballpoint pen filled the back.
Had a fab time. You must come next time to check out the people. See you soon!
Kim
Nothing odd, nothing sinister.
Yet, Anna didn’t trust it for a moment.
“Where did you find these?”
“Her closet,” Dade answered. “She ever speak of a ‘Kim?’”
She shook her head. Now that she thought of it, she wasn’t sure Shelli had ever mention names of any of her friends or family. It wasn’t as if Anna had asked. She’d only halfway listened the entire time, to be honest, too worried about giving something away herself to pay attention to what Shelli had been giving away.
“They must have been important if she kept them,” Anna said. She flipped the card back over. “This one was postmarked just last week.”
Dade flipped through the others. “They’re all postmarked within the last two months. Meeting sights?” he asked. “You think maybe she was meeting ‘Kim’ at Ghirardelli Square?”
Anna shrugged, handing the card back to him. “It’s possible. If so, the last meeting was recent.”
He shoved the stack into his back pocket. “Well, she’s not coming back here,” he said. “Whatever she was doing here, she’s done. She left the extras, took what she needed.”
“Laptop. Cell phone. Cash.”
He nodded. “That’s what I’d take.”
Me, too.
Dade pulled his cell from his pocket. “Let’s call her.”
“Why?”
“Ask if she’s okay. You’re concerned after what happened at the shelter, you want to check up on her. We need to find out where she is.”
“You really think she’s going to tell me?”
Dade shook his head. He flicked his index finger across his touch screen. “No. But we can trace the call.”
She looked over his shoulder. “Don’t tell me there’s an app for that?”
“There is on my phone,” he said, pulling up a clearly homemade program. “What’s the number?”
Anna rattled off Shelli’s cell from memory. She and Shelli had often called each other if one or the other was running late—a common issue with city public transportation what it was.
Dade dialed it in, then hit the speaker phone button. “Keep her on as long as you can.”
She nodded, listening to the phone ring once, twice. Four times in she began to worry Shelli wasn’t going to pick up. Finally, the unfamiliar number must have piqued her curiosity, as Shelli’s voice came through the receiver.
“Hello?”
Now knowing what Shelli really was, the sound of the so familiar, yet completely unknown, voice brought a jump of emotion to Anna’s throat. She ignored it, swallowing hard and focusing on the task at hand.
“Shelli? It’s Anna.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Anna. I didn’t recognize your number.”
“I lost my phone at the shelter. I’m on a friend’s,” she quickly covered. “Are you okay? I’ve been so worried about you.”
“I’m fine. Shaken, but I’m physically fine,” Shelli answered, playing the role.
“Oh, I’m so glad.”
“How are you?” Shelli asked. “Where are you?”
“I’m…” Anna looked to Dade. He made a motion with his hands to keep her talking. “I’m fine. I’m staying with a friend.”
“What friend?”
Anna looked to Dade for direction. His face was stony, staring at the phone. Anna could see a grid on the screen, the area slowly narrowing.
“She’s in the City,” he mouthed.
“Um, just an old friend,” she said into the phone. “From college,” she lied.
“Where are you?” Shelli pressed again.
Where are you, Shelli? For that matter, who are you?
“Daly City,” Anna lied, giving her a location just south of San Francisco. “I’m staying at her house for a while.”
“Good plan,” Shelli said slowly. Anna could feel the questions in the statement.
“Listen, I’m glad you’re okay, but I have to go,” Shelli said.
Dade shook his head violently. “Keep her on,” he whispered.
“Wait! Uh, Shelli … the dog. The new recruit. Is he with you? Is he okay?’
There was a pause on the other end. “He’s fine,” Shelli said slowly. She was beginning to suspect something, Anna could tell. She was asking too many questions, chatting too long for no reason.
“Is the dog with you? Where are you?” Anna asked.
“We’re both safe.”
“Are you in the City?” Anna asked.
Shelli paused. Then said, “Good-bye, Anna.” And hung up.
“Shit!” Dade turned away from the phone.
“Did you get it?”
He shook his head. “Somewhere north of Market Street. That’s as close as I could get. I needed three more seconds.”
“She didn’t believe me. She knows I know.”
He gave her a hard look. “You pressed too hard. You scared her.”
“What was I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know! Jesus, what do you usually talk about?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Anna said. “She knows.”
Dade shoved his phone in his back pocket. “There’s nothing left to see here. Let’s go.”
Anna followed him out the door, waiting while he pulled it closed behind him. Anyone who saw the knob laying on the ground would know the apartment had been broken into, but by the time they could report it, Dade and Anna would be long gone.
Though, gone where, Anna had no idea. All she could hope was that another escape opportunity presented itself before Dade decided he was ready for her to be gone for good.
* * *
They arrived back at the SUV to find Lenny whining in the backseat, pacing and pressing his nose to the windows.
“He needs to go to the bathroom,” Anna said.
Dade glanced in the rearview mirror. “Again?”
“He’s been grazing on that dog chow all day. Besides, he needs some exercise.”
Dade cracked his neck from side to side. “Fine.”
Anna reached for the door handle to let the dog out, but Dade’s hand clamped down over hers.
“But, I’ll take him. You stay here.”
She paused. “It won’t take long.”
“Good. I don’t have long.”
“I can walk him.”
Dade gave her a hard look. “As long as I have the dog, I know you won’t bolt.”
Unfortunately, true. And he’d read her intentions correctly. While Lenny clearly did need to find a square patch of grass quickly, she’d hoped to create an opportunity. She was going to have to be craftier than that.
“Fine,” she agreed, slipping into the passenger seat as Dade opened the backdoor and unwound Lenny’s leash from the front seat. As soon as he was freed, Lenny leapt from the car and bounded across the street to sniff a small patch of grass outside Shelli’s building, pulling Dade behind.
Anna took the opportunity to flip on the radio, scanning the AM news stations for any mention of the shelter. One station had a correspondent on the scene but knew precious little about the situation, speculating that maybe gang activity was involved. Which suited Anna fine. The less the authorities knew about the whole thing the better, as far as she was concerned.
Ten minutes later, Dade loaded Lenny back into the car and slid behind the wheel again. He turned the engine over and pulled into traffic, heading north.
“Where are we going now?” Anna asked.
“We need somewhere to regroup. Eat, sleep, plan our next move.”
“A motel?” she asked.
He nodded.
While what he said made sense—it was growing dark now and they couldn’t very well drive forever—the idea of sitting in one place for any length of time made her instantly antsy. The more stagnant she was, the easier it was for someone to catch up to her.
That had been her motto, to a greater or lesser degree, over the last few years. She’d never stayed in one place more than six months, often staying far less than that if something began to feel unsafe. Like two years ago in New York when she’d overheard a snippet of Bosnian spoken in a bar one night. Chances were it was coincidence, but it was enough to convince Anna to flee the East Coast. She’d spent two weeks checking into various motels, making plane reservations she never kept, and buying train tickets to destinations around the country, all the while plotting a steady path toward California. She’d landed in Los Angeles first, easily blending into the masses there. She’d taken an apartment in Burbank, then a loft in Santa Monica. Rented a room in the San Gabriel Valley, moved south to a complex in Orange County, then spent three months in a mobile home park just north of San Diego before deciding she’d left too many footprints in Southern California. She’d been in San Francisco since then, bouncing from one end of the city to the next, covering her tracks at each spot, starting over again at the next.
Though, clearly she’d left too many footprints here, too.
“This place will do,” Dade said. He pulled off the main road into a small parking lot and cut the engine.
Anna looked up. They were just outside the Mission area of San Francisco, older buildings running up against new developments, creating an eclectic mix of antiques and modern architecture, high-dollar real estate competing with seldom-maintained eyesores. Beside a pair of high-rise condos sat the Bayshore Inn. It struck Anna as a typical motor inn—a two-story, L-shaped building with rooms running the length on the top and bottom. A swimming pool sat out front, dead leaves floating over its surface, a couple of rusted lounge chairs sitting pitifully at its side.
Anna waited in the car while Dade again buckled the leash on Lenny, taking the dog with him as insurance as he entered the motel’s office and secured them a room. She watched him through the front window, bringing out the same charming smile for the clerk on duty as he’d worn in the Laundromat the previous night, playing the happy tourist. He handed the man a stack of bills—dealing only in cash again, she noticed—then took a room key from him.
The entire exchange took less than ten minutes, and Dade was back, grabbing a black duffel bag from the back of the SUV.
“Let’s go,” he directed, motioning Anna out of the car.
She complied, grabbing her own duffel before following Dade to a unit on the bottom, in the corner of the L.
The room was small, but it worked. A pair of double beds were flanked by nightstands, a TV sitting on a dresser across. A small bathroom was through a door. Anna walked through to the bathroom first, filling a plastic ice bucket with water for Lenny, who immediately plopped himself down in front of the TV and lapped gratefully.
“Sit down on the bed,” Dade instructed.
Anna paused. She didn’t like being told what to do under the best of circumstances. And this was clearly not the best. But, since she had little choice, she complied, eyes on him the whole time, slowly sinking down onto the pastel bedspread of the double closest to the door.
Dade reached into his bag, emerging with a pair of metal handcuffs. He then crossed to her, securing one of the bracelets around her left wrist and the other to the metal headboard.
“Just in case,” he said.
Anna wriggled her wrist, testing the bonds. Her hands were small, but not small enough to slip them free.
She watched Dade open drawers, checking the contents of the room almost as if by habit. While there was no way anyone could have anticipated their stay here, he was clearly a guy who didn’t trust anywhere to be secure.
He pulled a menu from a Chinese place out of the nightstand and turned to her.
“Hungry?”
She wasn’t. But she knew that whatever stretched in front of them, she should take her chance to refuel now. She nodded, then listened as Dade ordered Kung Pau chicken for two to be delivered to their room.
“Make mine tofu,” Anna cut in.
He paused. “Tofu?” he asked her.
“I’m a vegetarian.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
She shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of eating defenseless animals.”
“You’re joking, right? An animal rights assassin?”
“Ex-assassin,” she corrected him.
He shook his head, but repeated her order into the phone. When he hung up, he said, “I’m going in the shower.” He grabbed his gun and cell, then disappeared into the bathroom.
* * *
Dade shut the door behind him. He turned on the water, then grabbed his cell and dialed.
Three rings in it was answered.
“Dade,” the man on
the other end said, recognizing the number.
“What the hell is going on?” Dade asked, trying to keep his voice low.
There was a pause on the other end. Then, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, who else did you hire to take out my target?”
Another pause. “Just you.”
“Bullshit. Someone else is stalking her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I went to take my shot this morning and someone beat me to it.”
“She’s dead?” the other man asked.
Dade shook his head in the empty bathroom. It was starting to fill with steam, distorting the reflection staring back at him in the mirror above the chipped sink. “No. She’s not. But apparently there are several people who are working on that.”
“Who?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
Dade could hear the man on the other end inhale, breathing deeply. “That’s not important right now, and I urge you to remember what is.”
“And that would be?”
“The job is supposed to be done by the end of the week.”
Dade ran a hand through his hair. “I know.”
“Anything else is outside your realm of concern.”
“Like hell it is,” Dade said.
But the man ignored him. “Your only concern is doing the job you were hired to do. Our employer will not be happy if it isn’t done. And when he’s not happy, there will be consequences.”
“Don’t threaten me,” Dade growled out between clenched teeth.
“That’s not a threat. It’s fact.”
“Let me talk to our employer,” Dade said.
He could hear the man on the other ends shifting. “You know that’s not possible. I’m your contact. Anything you have to say to him you can say through me.”
“Fine. Tell him I’m not making a move until I know what the hell kind of game he’s playing at,” he ground out, then stabbed at the OFF button.
* * *
The second she heard water running, Anna sprang into action.
She jumped off the bed, stretching her left arm as far as she could while remaining tethered to the headboard, using her right hand to look through the nightstand drawers for anything she could use as a weapon. A pen, a Bible, a stack of postcards featuring a painting of the motel that was much more wishful thinking than reality.
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