by JL Wilson
I dabbed at the hamburger, sans onion and garlic, I had cooking in a separate skillet. "Why would I?"
He started to drool, his tail wagging slowly. Aw, come on. Share with the poor doggie.
"Don't you think I've shared enough? My house, my wallet, my time?" I snorted. "Poor doggie, my ass."
It's good for you. Cerberus inched forward so his chin rested on the kitchen island. It's good for the soul to share.
I decided to ignore that comment. "Meyer probably wouldn't bother setting up his own company when a company already exists with all the people in place that he needs."
Hmm. Good point. He was silent for a time, standing in a beam of sunlight that warmed the floor. Are you going to seduce her?
I stirred the sauce then glanced over my shoulder at Cerberus. His head was cocked to one side as though evaluating my prowess at the stove. There was a wistful quality in his voice. "She seems resistant to my charms. I don't think it will be that easy."
Would you--? He shook his head, collar jingling.
"Would I what?"
Nothing.
"Between you and David Delacroix, I think Lucinda has enough people looking out for her welfare."
Delacroix? He's dead, isn't he?
I turned back to the pan on the stove so Cerberus wouldn't see my face. He hadn't sounded surprised. So he knew Delacroix was alive? What kind of games was Cerberus playing with me? I set aside the un-garlic hamburger to cool and layered the lasagna ingredients into two heavy, hand-glazed casserole dishes I bought in Spain the last time I was on assignment.
Delacroix approached you?
I spooned sauce over the noodles and grated on the cheese. "He called me. He knows a lot about what's going on." And he knew a lot about how I felt, but I wasn't going to discuss that with Cerberus. "Do you think he was infected by Meyer?"
What makes you think he was infected? Perhaps he simply faked his own death.
I hadn't considered that. I did so now as I arranged the layers of lasagna, then put Cerberus's portion onto a saucer. "Here you go."
He gobbled up the half-pound of hamburger in a few moist gulps. Thanks. Mind if I take a spin outside? I need to stretch my legs.
I hesitated, wondering about leash laws and loose dogs. "I really don't have time to take you for a walk."
I'll be good. I'll stay nearby and away from the killer Bambi. He leaned his chin on the island counter, wagging his tail in brisk whaps against the cupboards. Come on. I need to run.
I suddenly envied him his freedom to go outside at any time, run like a crazy thing, then come inside and flop down to rest.
"Okay." I touched the controls that opened the door to the garage and he was away like a shot, racing down the steps and out in a blur of white and black. I followed more slowly to watch as he leapt over the low hedge that edged the driveway, twisted in mid-air and raced toward the woods with a happy bark.
I'll be back soon! he shouted over one shoulder.
He vanished into the woods. I remained in the garage entrance, staring into the distance. What would it be like to change your shape at will? To be a cat, panther, wolf, dog, falcon all in one day? For an instant I envied him his life.
Then I remembered. Companions were trapped in a shapeshifter's body until penance had been served, either theirs or that of their loved one. What would it be like to know that you held the fate of someone's redemption in your hands? Worse yet, what would it be like to know that someone held your fate in their hands? I shivered in the sunlight then went back into the house.
Fifteen minutes later, I had the lasagna in the fridge and the tiramisu chilling. I had also hard-boiled a dozen eggs. Maybe I could talk Lucinda into dying them for me. Of course, first I'd have to talk her into coming to my house.
Cerberus returned at the same time the valet service arrived for Lucinda's car. I gave them the keys and directions to her office as Cerberus scraped his paws at the doormat. He jingled ahead of me into the office. Feels like spring out there. Things are starting to green up. Any more thoughts on Meyer?
I paced in front of the cold fireplace. "No. None of it makes sense." My phone rang and I answered using the headset clipped to my sweater. It was Parker Madison.
"Can you talk now?"
I switched the call to the conference phone on my desk. Cerberus looked up at the sound of Parker's voice. "Yes, I'm alone."
Cerberus turned around three times then flopped onto the braided rug. Thanks for relegating me to the ranks of non-entities.
"You know what I mean," I said in a low voice. "Why the accelerated schedule for the hit?" I asked Parker.
His response was delayed because of the security system installed on the line. "I'm not sure, but apparently something is going on at the company where the subject works. Have you had a chance to research her?"
"I've met her." I sank into my leather desk chair and propped my chin on my hand to stare out the window. "In fact, she's coming over for dinner tomorrow."
"Really? That's getting close to your target."
I recognized the cautious humor in Parker's voice. "I suppose you could put it that way. You didn't answer my question."
"I was told that it might be necessary to shift the date. Do you foresee a problem?"
"I'd like to know why she's the target."
There was a long pause. I watched as a robin bobbed across the lawn outside the window. Where was it finding food? Robins were bug eaters. Surely there weren't any insects available in Minnesota's thawing earth.
"That's not your concern." The humor was gone from Parker's voice.
Cerberus looked up at me. Be careful how you push him. Madison's smart enough to start wondering why you're balking.
I stared at the dog. His pale blue eyes appeared blind in the filtered sunlight that lit the room. "How do you--" I switched to telepathy. How do you know what Parker Madison is like?
He blinked. I told you. I'm here on special assignment.
Special assignment. I shot him a glare. "I am concerned. I understood my previous targets once I did the research," I said into the conference phone. "They made sense. Lucinda Delacroix doesn't appear to be a threat to anyone. Something doesn't add up and that bothers me."
"You better than anyone know that looks are deceiving."
Fatuous answer, Cerberus said with a snort.
I took a chance. "I'm not sure if I can do this by Friday."
"If you don't, I can find someone who can."
Cerberus and I exchanged a look, both of us nodding at the same moment. A line was being drawn. Did I want to cross it now or later? "This is my responsibility. I'd just like to know why the sister is so anxious to see Lucinda killed and why we're working for a private citizen." I waited, wondering if my guess about Cara hiring the hit was correct.
Parker's voice was sharp. "We're not working for a private citizen." I could imagine him in thought, picking and choosing morsels to tell me. "We have reason to believe that Lucinda Delacroix is consorting with terrorists."
I almost laughed out loud. "She's a humanitarian."
"The evidence shows she's involved with a scientist whom we've been watching."
"Masterson? She's not involved with him." Even as I said the words, I felt that stab of doubt again. Had she lied to me? Was she sleeping with Masterson?
Not Lucinda, Cerberus said. She doesn't lie.
The dog's words restored my sanity. He was right. Lucinda had no reason to lie to me about her relationship with Robert Meyer.
"Our evidence shows that--"
"Your evidence is wrong. She's not sleeping with Masterson. If anyone is, it's her sister. The one who turned her in."
"I told you, it wasn't the sister."
"Then who did it? Who gave you this so-called evidence?"
"It's not the sister," Parker said. "It's the niece."
Kathryn Delacroix had it in for Lucinda? Was it her plan or did Meyer put her up to it? If my guess was right, Kat and Meyer were sleeping together.
Was this part of Meyer's plan to take over Delacroix Labs?
Then I remembered that conversation with Kat Delacroix. Something didn't fit here. She didn't act like a woman in love. In fact, she acted as though she didn't trust Meyer. "I didn't know we did hits for private citizens."
"I told you. She's not a private citizen."
I digested that bit of news for a moment. "Really? What is she?"
"You don't need to know. All you need to know is that we have evidence that it's imperative to get rid of Lucinda Delacroix."
"What about the scientist?" I asked. "Why aren't you targeting him?"
"We are."
Another assassin? Cerberus asked.
It made sense. Parker wouldn't put all his eggs into one basket. Then I shook my head. I had Easter metaphors on the mind.
"You don't need to know about that," Parker said.
"Of course I do. It might interfere with my plans."
"What exactly are your plans? You know it has to look like an accident. What are you considering?"
I straightened up at the insistent tone of his voice. Cerberus padded over and stared up at the phone. I don't like the sound of this. Why does he care? He's never cared before.
How would you know? Before the dog could answer I said, I know, I know. Special assignment. "I'd rather not discuss that," I said aloud. "The fewer people who know the details, the better."
"Well, whatever you decide to do, make it flexible. Be prepared to move on Friday if needed. Can you do that?"
I walked to the French doors, staring at the sun streaming through the trees. There was no way anyone would harm Lucinda, either on Friday or any other day.
My, my. Haven't you changed?
I glanced at Cerberus, sitting next to the desk and staring at the phone like a caricature of the RCA-Victor dog.
Are you convinced now? Do you know she's Persa? he asked.
I looked at the world outside, avoiding his gaze. No. But she's Lucinda and that's enough. I said aloud to Parker, "Of course."
"Nico..."
I turned, surprised, to stare at the phone. Parker sounded apologetic. Cerberus must have heard it too. He cocked his head, one ear flopping inside out like the stuffed bunny sitting on the kitchen counter. "Yes, Parker?"
"We're getting a lot of pressure on this one, from very high up. Be careful."
"How high up?"
"Let me put it this way. If something goes wrong, I don't know if I can help you."
"Then I'll have to just make sure nothing goes wrong." I tried to sound off-handed and confident. I must have succeeded because Parker said,
"Good. Keep me updated on your progress. Be prepared to move on Friday."
"Understood."
I touched the microphone switch on my sweater then jammed my hands into my jeans pockets. "What do you think that meant?"
Cerberus went past me to sit at the door, staring at the melting snow. I think it means we've got our work cut out for us. If we're not careful, Lucinda might not be the only victim on Friday. He looked at me over his shoulder. You may be immortal, but I'm not. I'd like to keep my skin intact and keep Lucinda's skin intact too. It might be tricky.
I heartily agreed.
Chapter Ten
I stared down at the fat prospectus in front of me. I had read and re-read it, but the words were blurring together. Too much had happened in too short a time. My head felt as if it was exploding from all the information stuffed into it.
Persa.
Lucinda.
Meyer.
The disconnected threads of my life were all being gathered, right here, right now. I pushed away from my desk and walked to the window. Cerberus snored on the rug, his front paws twitching with his dream. I smiled at the sight. His body was long and lean, the dense fur emphasizing rather than disguising his muscular length. Stretched out he looked almost as tall as me. I leaned over and splayed my fingers in the air over one of his leathery black paws. It was enormous, almost as big as my hand.
His eyelids flickered and opened. For an instant he was unfocused then with a snarl he drew back from my outstretched hand in a curious sliding motion, avoiding contact with me. Get away, he growled. Don't touch me.
I jerked my hand upward. "Why not? You let Lucinda touch you."
She's different. He sidled across the room, glaring over one shoulder at me. She's special.
The damn ungrateful dog--after all I'd done for him. "Yeah, she's so special she dumped you with a stranger." I stalked out of the room. "I'm going for a run. If you want out, wait for me by the garage door."
I didn't stay to see his response. I took the stairs two at a time to my bedroom, stripping off my shirt and tie as I went. I dragged on lightweight sweats and my running shoes then came back down to the kitchen. Cerberus was sitting by the kitchen door, his muzzle pressed to the crack as though to sniff out the world beyond.
I'm sorry, he said in a low voice. You startled me.
I didn't reply, just touched the control to open the door. He bounded into the garage then to the driveway, waiting for me near the azalea bushes that edged the pavement. Their buds were fat with energy, waiting to burst forth at the first true sign of spring. I wish I felt so alive.
Our neighborhood had no sidewalks, so I started at a quick walk down the street for a warm-up. "Do you need a leash to stay nearby?" I asked as Cerberus's jaunty plumed tail bounced ahead of me.
I know the rules, he said without looking at me. I'll follow them, mostly. Which way?
"I don't care." The sun was starting to edge downward toward the horizon. The long shadows on the street flickered in the light, making images dance on my retinas. "Let's go to the park." I gestured to the left ahead where the path led into the woods. "There's a good trail there."
I know. I checked it out. The killer Bambini use it. Oh, look, there's the cookie lady. Hey, Cookie Lady! I loved the cookies and that Easter bunny was great. Cerberus woofed a greeting to Mrs. Taylor, who was sweeping the winter's accumulation of road salt and dirt out of her garage with a shop broom that was almost as big as she was. The dog loped up her drive, tail wagging as he barked.
"Hello," she called out, setting the broom aside to give Cerberus a brisk head-rubbing. I glared at the dog.
She rubs good. He scooted around to peer at me from behind her legs. Sorry. I just don't like it when men touch me. Must be a guy thing.
Guy thing, my ass. "Come away from her, she doesn't want your muddy butt on her boots," I said to the dog, who now sat on Mrs. Taylor's foot and stared up at her with unabashed adoration in his pale eyes.
"Oh, I don't mind, Nico. What's her name? You never did tell me."
"It's a he and his name is Cerberus." I gestured to the dog. "Come on. Let's go for our walk."
I like her. He leaned against her leg. She smells good. She smells like cookies.
"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to impugn your masculinity." Mrs. Taylor laughed as she gave Cerberus a push to get him moving. "Will we see you both tomorrow night for the potluck? With your lady friend, perhaps?"
I shook my head. I didn't need a security system when I had Edna Taylor. Even though our houses were separated by a street, large yards and trees, my neighbor undoubtedly knew when Lucinda had arrived, when she left and what she looked like.
"I've asked her but I'm not sure if she's available." I edged toward the park, whose entrance lay between Mrs. Taylor's house on the west and Martha Neilson's house on the east. "Come on, dog. Let's get moving."
"Did that man find you?" Edna asked as Cerberus trotted toward me.
Both the dog and I stopped to stare at her. What man? "What man?"
"He was driving a big SUV. He was here earlier in the day, after you and your friend left. I saw him sitting outside your house so I went over and asked him if he needed help." She gave a sniff of disapproval. "It was obvious you weren't home, so I don't know why he was sitting there. I thought he was taking pictures of your house then I saw he just had one of t
hose mobile phones. He said he'd call you."
Good Lord, Mrs. Taylor approaching a strange man sitting in a car, probably with a camera phone? It made my stomach hurt just to think of the danger she might have been in. "If he comes back, you call me. You've got my number and if I'm not home, it will forward to my mobile phone. Call me."
She waved a hand. "I'm not stupid. Wayne was watching out for me from the window."
I thought of eighty-five-year-old Wayne "watching out" for eighty-year-old Edna. "Good. But call me next time."
Do it, Cerberus urged over his shoulder as he led the way down the tree-lined street. We can handle any strangers hanging about.
"Not to worry. I will." She watched until we got to the path then went back to her sweeping.
I broke into a lope on the trail I had paved thirty years earlier. The Mark Hatcher Memorial Park was a legacy I gave myself in a previous existence and I enjoyed it to this day. Since I owned the entire subdivision through a variety of holding companies, I was able to keep these two hundred acres protected from development.
It was cold in the woods with patches of ice on the ground in spots untouched by sunlight. But the trees were hazy with new greenery and I saw the white flowers of bloodroot poking out under dead leaves. Even the air had that moist, earthy quality that spoke "spring." I broke into an easy run, just enough to make my heart work hard but not enough to cause gasping. I was deathly ill in the initial three decades of the virus that Meyer had inflicted on me, catching every disease I came into contact with. It was as though my body was embracing then rejecting anything that might kill it. It took another few decades to determine what was now "normal" for me.
I saw Cerberus far ahead of me. He had reached the lake and was nosing around the fallen trees that lined the shoreline near the path. When I came into view he broke into a run again, going clockwise around the lake. It was the steepest route, with the path leading up a small hill that overlooked the water then descending into a declivity where the picnic shelter, boarded up for the winter, sat next to the small dock. Rowboats would sit there in the summer along with paddleboats, canoes and other water toys.
I passed the shelter and climbed the hill beyond, cresting again to look down at the sparkling lake. Although the ice had gone out, I knew it was bitterly cold and wouldn't warm until Memorial Day at the earliest. Cerberus was in the distance, his tail wagging as he trotted near the lake. I rounded a curve and the breeze shifted, now in my face. The moist smell was richer here, sharper. The path was also rockier, probably washed over by debris from the lake. I picked my way carefully, almost stumbling at the bottom.