Shiloh

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Shiloh Page 26

by G. J. Walker-Smith


  I leaned down so we were eye to eye. “I’ll make it simple,” I whispered. “Are you a thief, Shiloh?”

  “No,” she shakily replied. “But they are, and we’re in a whole world of trouble because of it.”

  I straightened up and folded my arms. “Explain it to me.”

  My sisters are shameless drama queens, but not even they could’ve spun the tale she told. It was impossible to believe that my neighbours of seven years were the masterminds behind a million dollar diamond racket, and when she claimed they’d threatened to kill me it was impossible to stay in the room. With an appalled groan, I nudged past her and headed for the bedroom. She followed.

  “Stop!” I warned before she spoke again. “I don’t want to hear another word.”

  Hoping to find a shirt, I kicked through the mess on the floor. Shiloh scooped one up and threw it at me. “We have to leave, Mitchell,” she said. “If you’re not off the grid by five o’clock, they’re going to kill you.”

  As I locked eyes with her, every single day that we’d spent together played through my mind. “What’s gotten into you?” I mumbled. I barely recognised the girl in front of me. At some point in the last eight hours, my bright, sweet, level-headed girl had lost her mind.

  “Please, Mitchell,” she begged. “You have to believe me.”

  I didn’t believe her, and I was angry that she’d gone off on such a farfetched, crazy tangent. I dropped my shirt on the bed. “You’re wrecking us,” I warned. “Stop it.”

  She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I’m trying to save us.”

  We were getting nowhere fast. “We’re done here,” I said, heading for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To roll around in the ocean for a while,” I replied, throwing my arms wide. “Far, far away from the crazy.”

  ***

  Adding to my pissy mood, the waves that morning were rubbish. It was hardly worth paddling out there but I had a point to make. I had never dealt well with drama, especially drama of this magnitude. For a few short minutes I considered paddling to South America just to be sure I’d escaped it.

  Making sure I thrashed every muscle in my body, I lay flat on my board, dragging my arms through the water until they ached. When a cooler head prevailed, I headed back to shore.

  I wasn’t surprised to see Melito and Vincent sunning themselves on their deck when I arrived home. It was routine and normal, and made Shiloh’s crazy accusations seem even more off kilter.

  “How are you feeling this morning, Adonis?” asked Melito, waving me over.

  “A little rough,” I sheepishly replied, slowly wandering toward them. “It was a great night though.” At least, I think it was.

  Melito threw back his head and laughed. “It’s always a wonderful evening when the company is good.”

  I leaned my board against the railing and stepped onto the deck. “It is,” I agreed. “It’s nice to have you home.”

  Vincent stood up and made a rush for the front door. “Don’t go anywhere,” he ordered. “I have a plate of leftovers for you.”

  I smiled. This was the Greeks at their best. It was ludicrous to think they were anything other than eccentric, generous souls who relished a quiet life on the beach as much as I did.

  With Vincent gone, Melito turned to me. “Did Shiloh enjoy her evening?” he asked. “I haven’t seen her today.”

  Hopefully, the smile I gave looked genuine. “She’s a little bit fragile this morning,” I said diplomatically.

  He nodded sympathetically, but it was Vincent who replied. He handed me a huge platter of pastries. “She’s going to need a little bit of extra love and attention this morning,” he suggested.

  I usually baulked at their misguided relationship advice but I made an exception. Wondering if they might be able to shed some light on her crazy mood, I asked why.

  The look Melito flashed me was like nothing I’d ever seen from him before. It was a sinister smirk that cut right through my body. “Because she’s trying to decide which is more valuable,” he replied. “The three hundred diamonds she stole from us or the life of her oblivious boyfriend.”

  He said it so casually that I wondered if I’d misheard him.

  Then Vincent chimed in. “Poor thing.” He chuckled. “I can understand her dilemma. The diamonds are worth a lot of money.” He scrunched up his nose as if he smelled something bad and looked me up and down. “You, not so much.”

  The shift was dizzying, and no amount of thinking time would’ve helped me make sense of it. Without a word, I dumped the tray of pastries on a deckchair and jumped off the deck. I was almost home when Melito called out to me. “Remind Shiloh that time is of the essence, Mitchell. If she doesn’t make her decision by five, we’ll decide for her.”

  Vincent pointed his hand at me, pointing his fingers like a gun. And then, in a blow that I felt, he pulled the invisible trigger.

  Juju

  SHILOH

  The front door slammed so hard that the whole shack shook. A short moment later, Mitchell appeared in the doorway of the bedroom looking nothing short of terrified.

  “Pack a bag.” The tremble in his voice was one of pure fear. “I don’t know what the hell you’ve gotten us into, but we need to get out of here.”

  I was way ahead of him. I pointed at the duffle bags on the floor. “I’ve already done it,” I replied. “All you need is your passport.”

  I was prepared to abandon everything without a second thought, but it would’ve been remiss of me to expect the same of him. Mitchell stood in the small front room looking lost, which made me wonder if he truly grasped what we were about to do.

  “You’re not coming back here,” I said gently. “You know that, right?”

  His eyes darted in every direction but mine. “I don’t know anything, Shiloh.” When I reached for his hand, he shrugged me away. “What do you know?”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” I promised. “But now’s not the time.”

  “Tell me one thing,” he muttered. “Are you a thief?”

  “I swear to you, I don’t have their diamonds.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted to form a humourless smile. “You’d never lie to me, right?”

  There was no possible way to answer his question without making him hate me, so I ignored it. “We have to go.” I thrust his bag against his chest. “I don’t know if we’re going to get out of this mess, but we have to try.”

  ***

  It wasn’t the first time I’d switched off all emotion in order to get a job done, but it was a detachment the Mitchell couldn’t understand. Apart from asking me where we were going, he didn’t say a word on the short journey to Mimi’s place, but she was exempt from the silent treatment.

  When she met us at the front door and asked if he was alright, he answered. “I’m fine, Mimi,” he mumbled, glancing back at me. “All things considered.”

  Mimi pulled him through the door and turned her attention to me. “Come,” she said. “I have something to show you.”

  “I have something for you too,” I replied, following her into the house.

  The inside of Mimi’s home looked exactly as I thought it would. Brightly coloured cushions were scattered on the floor, heavy woven fabrics covered the windows and posies of bay leaves hung above the doorways. It was basic and homely, and being there felt ten times safer than the shack.

  Mitchell seemed to be breathing a little easier too. He sat down on a cushion in the small front room, and when a little boy poked his head around the door, he called him over. “Ronaldo, my man. How are you, mate?”

  With a cute bright grin, he ran over and piled onto Mitchell’s lap, eager to show off his toy truck.

  With Mitchell distracted, I pulled Mimi aside. “I have something to show you.” I pulled the calico bag out of my pocket. “I found these under the shack,” I murmured. “Charli hid them there before she left.”

  Mimi snatched the bag. “Trick rocks
,” she announced. “I told you angels watched over him.” She glanced back at Mitchell. “He will be safe now.”

  I didn’t share her optimism, but wasn’t game to say so out loud. “Trick rocks, Mimi?” I pointed to the bag. “Please tell me that’s a pet name for high grade diamonds. I need them to be real.”

  She frowned. “No, dumb girl. They’re just rocks. The angels fill them with good juju to make them look like diamonds,” she explained. “They trick the devil into thinking they’re real.”

  From what I could tell, the angels had made a bloody good show of it. They looked completely authentic, but I wasn’t sure that the Greeks would be fooled. “I need to trick two vicious devils,” I whispered. “If I can’t, Mitchell is going to get hurt.”

  “The devil’s eyes are blinded by greed.” Mimi rattled the bag. “These will save my dumb boy.” She spoke with absolute certainty. “And now you need to find a way to repay the angels for their good deed. Pass on the good juju.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have time to deal with angels, Mimi,” I replied. “One job at a time, okay?”

  Her harsh frown hinted that a nasty lecture was on its way, but she managed to hold back and change the subject. “I got the thing you wanted,” she said before throwing her head back and calling out to someone in Afrikaans.

  A man came rushing in from the back room. I recognised him instantly. It was the meet-and-greet man from the mine.

  “This is Baako,” said Mimi. “My cousin.”

  He vigorously shook my hand. “Whatever you need, Mrs Shiloh,” he said. “I will get it for you.”

  It was the same line he’d greeted me with on the first day I met him – only now, I appreciated it a whole lot more.

  “Do you have something for me now?”

  Nodding at a rate of knots, he reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a gun. “It’s a nine millimetre Glock,” he announced, haphazardly waving it around.

  Keeping a firm grip on Ronaldo, Mitchell jumped to his feet. “Jesus Christ,” he snapped. “Are you out of your minds?”

  I couldn’t blame him for wondering. Baako had no clue what he was doing. I quickly snatched the gun, ejected the clip and hid the magazine in my pocket.

  “Do you know how to make it work?” asked Baako, pointing at it. “Pull on the trigger underneath.”

  Mimi slapped the back of his head. “Stupid boy,” she chided.

  I racked the slide back and forth, expelling the bullet from the chamber. When it popped out and fell to the floor, Baako scrambled to pick it up.

  I tucked the gun into my waistband. “It’s empty,” I assured Mitchell. “Perfectly safe.”

  He shook his head at me, appalled. “Who are you?” The bitter question raged out of him.

  Before I could speak, Mimi piped up. “She’s Good Witch Batman, dumb boy.”

  Her answer made me cringe, but Mitchell didn’t react. He just stared straight at me. And at that moment, I knew I’d probably lost him for good.

  ***

  Mimi’s house should’ve been the end of the line for Mitchell. Her home was safe and isolated. All he had to do was wait for Agent Grace to sort out travel arrangements and get him out of Kaimte. But the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

  “I’m not staying here,” he grumbled. “Wherever you go, I go.”

  “This is nothing to do with you, Mitchell,” I reminded him. “You’ll be safe here.”

  He dangled his keys in front of me. “If you want to leave, I’m driving.”

  For the briefest of moments, I considered pulling the gun on him, but then considered the reason behind the stubborn stand he was taking. Mitchell was feeling angry, confused and betrayed, but despite all of that, he cared about me – possibly more than I deserved.

  “Fine,” I yielded, slapping my hands on my sides. “Let’s go.”

  He didn’t ask where we were going, for which I was grateful. Easing into the news that I was heading to see Louis Osei would’ve been impossible, but Mitchell knew Kaimte back to front. As soon as we pulled into the deserted market square, he figured it out.

  “Louis is in your posse now?” He sounded disgusted. “You’re some piece of work, Shiloh.”

  Mitchell couldn’t speak to me without snapping, which was soul destroying, even though I understood it.

  “No,” I replied. “I loathe him as much as you do.”

  He huffed out a sombre laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  And therein lies the rub. I had fooled him – a million times over. I was not the woman he thought I was. He didn’t misjudge me or make a mistake. I’d systematically deceived him day after day for weeks – and I still wasn’t able to tell him why.

  “Melito and Vincent hired Louis to build an airstrip,” I explained as the car rolled to a stop. “That’s where I’m supposed to meet them with the diamonds. The problem is, I don’t know where it is. I’m hoping Louis will tell me.”

  It was the most information I’d given him in hours. Mitchell stared through the dirty windscreen, probably trying to process it.

  “Why are you doing this?” he finally asked. “There’s no need to deliver anything to them – and don’t say it’s for my benefit. They can’t make good on their threat if they can’t find me,” he reasoned. “All we have to do is leave.”

  If I were the petty crook that he thought I was, getting out of Dodge would’ve been the perfect solution. But I had a job to do, and keeping up my end of the bargain with Dan meant that I had no choice but to see it through to the end.

  “I promise you.” I glanced across at him. “Everything will make sense soon.”

  His head lolled back. “You keep saying that,” he muttered. “Don’t promise me anything.”

  I reached for the door handle. “Are you coming in?”

  There was no way I was going to leave him alone in the car, but it seemed polite to ask. He wasn’t coping well with being told what to do, and I’d done nothing but make demands since he woke up.

  “No,” he replied. “Louis is your mate, not mine.”

  I glanced in every direction, scoping out our surroundings. On market days, it was the most crowded place in town. Today, I hardly recognised it as the same place. With the exception of Louis’ Range Rover parked next to us it looked deserted.

  “I’m not going to argue with you.” I took the gun from my waistband. “Have it your way.”

  Mitchell leaned to the side, horror-struck. “What are you going to do, lady?” he asked. “Shoot me?”

  “No, stupid.” I took the clip out of my pocket and jammed it into the gun. “There are seventeen rounds in this gun.” I held it to the side and racked the slide. “And now it’s loaded.”

  I tried handing it to him but he refused to take it. “Peace loving beach bum, remember?” He patted his chest. “Total pacifist. I wouldn’t know what to do with that thing.”

  “Well, if someone approaches the car and tries to kill you – let’s say, an angry Greek bloke – shoot him.”

  Still, he refused to take it.

  I set it down on the dashboard, reminded him that it was loaded and got out of the car.

  “Shiloh,” he called.

  My heart flipped purely because his tone was gentle. “Yeah?”

  “Be careful, okay?”

  I gave a tiny smile. “You too.”

  ***

  Thankfully, Louis was alone in the shop, sitting with his feet up on the counter while he watched TV. As soon as he saw me, he switched it off. “My beautiful friend,” he drawled, throwing his arms wide. “What brings you here today?”

  I didn’t feel the need to butter him up with small talk so I got straight down to business. The more I talked, the wider his eyes grew, and when I got to the part about needing directions to the airstrip, he nearly exploded. “I told you not to get involved with the bad men!” He rushed to my side of the counter. “If you go to them, they’ll kill you.”

  “It’s not me I’m wo
rried about at this point.”

  Louis took a step back. “Mitchell?” he asked. “The devil is on your back and your concern is for him?”

  “Yes,” I replied simply.

  “Mitchell is as good as dead.” His callous words sliced right through me. “You need to get as far away from him as you can.”

  “Please Louis,” I begged. “Just tell me where the airstrip is.”

  He paced around the cluttered shop, perhaps considering his options. Louis Osei was not renowned for being a generous soul. He gave with one hand while taking with the other, but at least he was upfront about it.

  He turned back to me. “What will you give me in return?”

  I didn’t even need to think about it. “Information.”

  “I already know plenty, beautiful friend.”

  I cocked one eyebrow. “You don’t know what I know.”

  It was more intrigue than Louis could handle. He grabbed a pen and some paper off the counter and quickly drew me a map. His demand for information came before he’d even put his pen down.

  I snatched the map from his grasp. “There’s a GPS fitted to your vehicle,” I revealed. “It’s hardwired into the wiring of the steering column.”

  I couldn’t work out if the expression on his face was one of betrayal or fury, but when he grabbed a screwdriver from under the counter and marched to the door, I decided it was the latter.

  By the time I got outside he’d already begun ripping the car apart. Shards of black plastic littered the ground, and he was still knocking the stuffing out of it with hard jabs of the screwdriver.

  If anyone should’ve enjoyed seeing Louis’ prized Range Rover take a thrashing it was Mitchell, but when I looked over at the jeep, he looked as horrified as I was.

  “What does the GPS look like?” yelled Louis.

  I pointed at the small black box hanging off the now exposed wiring. Louis shoved me aside, leaned into the car and ripped it out.

  I had no idea what he was screaming in Afrikaans as he stomped it into the ground, but it didn’t sound friendly. “When I find out who did this, he is a dead man!”

  “Calm down,” I urged. “You’re going to blow a gasket.”

 

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