by Greg Herren
Of course, international assassins could still climb onto the roofs of the buildings on either side of ours, but since the shutters were still closed and latched, he couldn’t have gotten in that way.
“He was already here waiting for me, sitting in the dark with his gun trained on the door.” Colin shook his head.
A cold chill crept up my spine. What if Taylor had come home first?
Colin saw the look on my face. “I’m sorry, Scotty. I don’t even know how he could have gotten in. But he was here, waiting to kill me.” He gestured with his head. “I think his gun wound up over by the desk.” He shrugged. “Thank God I got home before you two.”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “We’re going to have to get rid of the body, aren’t we?” I was about to become an accessory after the fact.
It’s not the first time, a voice reminded me.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Scotty. No police. You have to trust me.”
“It is what it is.” I stood up. Okay, crisis mode was kicking in. “We’re going to have to get rid of this rug, there’s no way we’ll ever get the blood out of it.” It was an old Oriental rug I’d been meaning to replace for years anyway. I just hadn’t taken the time to look for a new one. “We can roll him up in it. But the blood on that recliner—”
“I’m pretty sure that’s mine.” Colin stood up, wincing. “Just use some spot remover on it. I’ll get bleach and rags.”
I stood up and walked around the couch opposite the body. I’d left the back door open and a cold draft blew down the hall. It had started raining, and it was really coming down now. I looked at Colin. He seemed okay. I felt a crazy laugh rising and forced it down. I needed to stay calm—I could have a breakdown later if necessary.
I walked over and picked up the feet. He was heavy, but I bent my knees and pulled backward. It took a few tries, but I finally got him onto the carpet as Colin returned with a bucket and rags. I could smell the bleach as he started wiping up the blood.
“I’m sorry, Scotty.” Colin’s voice was grim as he carefully wiped the floor. “I can tell you this much: my cover was blown. Angela told me to get out of…where I was and come back here to wait for further instructions.” He dipped the rags in the bleachy water and started wiping again. “I covered my tracks, believe me. Different flights, different airports, different passports. You can imagine my shock when I turned on the light and he was sitting there.” He pointed to where one of the dining room table chairs had been splintered and smashed. “He shot twice.”
I followed his pointing finger with my eyes. Yes, there were two bullet holes in the plaster wall. Shit, shit, shit. “He had a gun and the drop on you? Damn, you’re good.” I looked back at the chair. “He was a fool. He should have shot you before you turned on the lights.”
“Bestuzhev was always an arrogant prick.” He stood up. “I told him before it would bite him in the ass one day.”
I decided not to think about the fact Colin knew the guy. “But why here? Why kill you?” I was starting to feel dizzy again and sat down on the couch, hard.
“I’ve no idea. There was no way—my private life, my cover, has always been incredibly protected. Or so I thought.”
“Do you think—” My voice broke. Oh God. “You don’t think other—”
“I don’t know. I hope not. You guys aren’t the target…I am. If I’m not here, you should be safe.”
Assuming they—whoever they are—won’t want to use us to get to you. He somehow knew you were coming here today. He didn’t care if we were here or not.
And just how did he know to come here to wait for Colin?
I felt queasy.
“You have to believe me, Scotty, I had no idea this was going to follow me here. There are so many firewalls between me and Blackledge…” His voice was grim. “Nobody could have known I was coming here. But I used my Blackledge credit card…which means either the credit card company or Blackledge has been compromised.”
“But he knew where to find you.” This was bad. Really bad. “Would they have known that from tracking your Blackledge Amex?”
Colin shook his head. “No.”
My heart was beating fast. I needed to stay calm. But if Blackledge had been compromised…I swallowed and said what I was thinking.
“There’s no chance…no chance Angela might have sent him?” Angela Blackledge ran the agency Colin had been working for since he’d left the Mossad in his late twenties. “I know you can’t tell me about your latest mission—any of your missions—but you haven’t done anything that would make her want to, um, you know…” I gestured toward the body. I couldn’t say it. I didn’t even want to think it. “Have you?”
“No. This last mission—it was a total shit show right from the start,” he replied, nudging the corpse with his foot. “I suspected we’d been compromised. The mission blew up in our faces too fast for it not to have been. But it never occurred to me to think that the agency had been…shit, agents all over the world could be in jeopardy. I need to call Angela.” He got up and walked over to where his duffel bag was sitting in the hallway. I hadn’t noticed it there. He pulled out his secure satellite phone and pressed a few buttons. After a few moments he said, “Angela, it’s Colin. Call me the moment you get this.” He slipped the phone back into his bag. He started pacing. “Well, yes, we were compromised, certainly. I can’t tell you much, but I can tell you that our ‘surprise’ mission to rescue a hostage wasn’t a surprise to the hostage takers. We lost a couple of men, good men. Angela told me to abort, get out of there as fast as I could, and just come back home to New Orleans.” He stared at me.
I knew him well enough to know he was thinking the same thing I was.
If Blackledge was compromised, maybe they’d gotten to Angela already.
“Take a hot shower and get dressed,” I said. “I take it you’re going to have to skip town?”
He didn’t answer, just gave me a sad smile as he walked past on his way to the bathroom. I wanted to hug him, kiss him, do something to let him know I loved him, but let the moment pass.
Once I heard the shower come on, I checked out the front door. It hadn’t been forced, and there were no signs the lock had been tampered with. The deadbolt was sturdy but had been sticking lately. I’d been meaning to spray some WD-40 into it, just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
It was still pouring down rain. Lightning flashed close by, and the thunder that followed shook the house. I shivered.
The assassin—what had Colin called him? Bestuzhev? He’d either had a key or picked the lock.
But how did he get past the gate? Rain or no rain, you can’t pick a lock on Decatur Street, even at night, without being seen, questioned.
I bit my lower lip. Is Colin telling me the truth?
He’d lied to me before.
We’d separated from him for a couple of years back when we first became a throuple (I hate that word. Taylor was the first person to use it to describe our three-way relationship, but I’m getting used to it the more I hear it), because his job—a case he was working on—required him to let us believe he’d murdered two of my uncles (that’s a really long story). But he hadn’t killed them, and we’d all welcomed him back into the family once we knew the truth.
I also knew if it was necessary for his job, he’d lie to us all over again.
But with Taylor part of our family…we hadn’t been completely honest with him about Colin’s job.
Such a fucking mess.
I glanced up at the ceiling.
What if another assassin is upstairs?
My blood ran cold. That hadn’t even occurred to me.
I was walking back to the kitchen to get my gun when there was a crash from the bathroom.
I ran back down the hall and opened the bathroom door. Colin sat on the floor, naked. The room was filling with steam from the shower. He looked dazed, woozy.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I knelt down beside him.
He winced. “I slipped getting into the shower like an idiot. I’m really sorry about all of this, Scotty.” He pushed himself back up to his feet and gave me a sad smile. “You know the last thing in the world I want is put any of you in danger. And the living room—”
“Frank wanted a new television anyway, and I’ve been meaning to redecorate,” I replied breezily, holding his arm as he climbed into the shower. “Just get cleaned up, I’ll lay out some clothes for you. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the emergency room?”
“Too many questions.” Colin stepped into the spray. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I picked up his underwear off the floor and went into the spare bedroom. Since Colin wasn’t home as much, we kept his clothes in the spare bedroom. I found him some clean underwear, a T-shirt, and clean jeans, walked back into the living room, and got his bloody pants and the torn scraps of his T-shirt. I put the T-shirt in the trash and tossed the pants into the empty laundry basket in the bedroom.
Shit, DNA, I thought. Oh, well, I’ll just wash everything with bleach.
I placed the clean clothes on the toilet and shut the bathroom door.
I’d finished cleaning up most of the mess in the living room when Colin joined me. His hair was still damp. “I’m so sorry about this.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain how everything got wrecked to Taylor, though.” I shrugged. “Let’s get the body rolled up in the carpet.”
“Okay.” Colin checked his satellite phone. “Hang on, Angela left a message.” He pressed some buttons and held the phone up to his ear. After a few minutes he turned the phone off and tossed it back in his bag. “She’s just as shocked as I am. I’m going to head out of town once we’re done here—there’s a six a.m. flight out of New Orleans to Houston.” He glanced at his watch. “That should give me just enough time to get rid of this mess and get to the airport. You mind if I take the CR-V?”
“As long as you don’t leave any evidence in it.”
“Get some twine and some garbage bags. You’re going to have to help me carry him out of here.”
I got the twine and Colin tied the carpet securely once we finished rolling him up in it. He then tied garbage bags around the ends and the center.
“What do you think? The Rigolets?”
The Rigolets was the narrow mouth connecting Lake Pontchartrain to Lake Borgne, which wasn’t really a lake but a narrow-mouthed bay that opened out to the gulf.
“The tide should be going out now,” I said, looking at my watch. “With any luck the tide will take him right out of Lake Borgne and into the gulf.”
“Perfect. Let’s get him up.” On the count of three we lifted the rug and started carrying him down the hallway. He was incredibly heavy, and my back and shoulders were screaming as we made our way out the door and to the staircase.
There was about an inch of cold water in the courtyard, but the rain had lightened up some. Still, I was sweating and out of breath by the time we got the body out to the parking garage. Once we’d lifted him into the hatch of the car, we kissed and I held on to him. “Be careful,” I whispered into his ear.
He kissed me and whispered back. “I’ll call as soon as I can.” He stepped away from me and touched the side of my face before slamming the hatch shut. “All right. I’ll leave the car at Park’n’Fly lot at the airport. I’ll text you the spot number when I’m in the terminal. Wait and pick up the car later in the afternoon or wait until Sunday morning. And don’t worry, I’ll clean the back out once I get rid of the body.” He climbed into the driver’s seat. “I love you. I’ll get in touch as soon as I can.”
“Love you, too.” I paused. “I have to tell Frank about this.”
He winced. “It’s better if he knows so you can both be on guard. But do you have to tell Taylor?”
“I won’t.” It was bad enough I was an accessory after the fact and was going to make Frank one, too. I wasn’t putting Taylor at risk.
Maybe…maybe he could stay with Mom and Dad for a while.
I watched Colin drive out of our parking garage.
This might be the last time I ever see him.
My eyes filled with tears, but I wiped them away.
Exhausted and drained, I went back up to the apartment. I finished sweeping up the broken glass and splintered wood, carried the wreckage down to the garbage cans in the courtyard, and tried to get the living room as back to normal as I possibly could.
It was about two thirty in the morning when I finally got undressed and got into bed. I was worried I would be too stressed out to sleep, but exhaustion trumped worry and I fell asleep almost as soon as I closed my eyes.
I woke to the sound of my cell phone ringing on the nightstand. Thinking it was Colin, I opened my eyes and reached for it.
Taylor’s face was looking at me from the screen and it was 8:17 in the morning. I unlocked my phone. “Taylor?”
“Scotty?” He sounded weird, his voice kind of slurring. “I—I need help. Can you come?”
I swung my legs out of the bed and was walking into the bathroom as I said, “Where are you? What’s wrong?”
“I—I don’t feel so hot. I feel really strange.” He gulped. “I’m at Eric’s suite in the hotel. And—and he’s dead.”
“What?” I put him on speaker and splashed water on my face. “Did you say he’s dead?”
“Dead.” He muffled a sob. “And I’m naked and I don’t know what happened and I’m scared and I don’t feel good. Can you come?”
“Stay where you are and don’t touch anything. I’m on my way.”
Chapter Five
Ten of Cups, Reversed
Chance of betrayal
It is amazing how motivating absolute terror can be.
Exhausted, sleepy, and bleary-eyed one moment, about three seconds later I was wide awake and operating in crisis mode for the second time in less than twelve hours. Adrenaline had my heart thumping as my body operated on automatic pilot while my mind focused on remaining calm. Pair of jeans and sweatshirt to wear, grab socks and shoes. Run into bathroom, turn on hot water, wash face and brush teeth. My fingers shook as I tied my shoelaces.
Deep breaths, Scotty. You need to be calm. Focus.
Horrible guilty thoughts raced through my mind.
You shouldn’t have let him go off with that prick, I thought as I pulled my Saints hoodie over my head, you knew better, you had a bad feeling, and since when do you not listen to your instincts? All you had to do was make him come home with you.
“Right. Because helping me and Colin dispose of a body would have been better,” I said aloud.
All right, Scotty, think. Phone, keys, wallet.
I shoved my wallet into my back pocket and grabbed my trench coat, pulling it on and fumbling with my keys. They flew out of my fingers and bounced underneath the bed. “Damn it!” I shouted, dropping to my knees and looking. I shoved my right arm the darkness, feeling around with my still-shaking fingers. I felt dust and dust bunnies, a paper clip, a pen…and finally the damned keys.
I need to clean under there, I thought as I stood back up.
I shook my head. “Get a grip, Scotty, you can have a nervous breakdown later,” I said. “He needs you to be strong. Focus on taking care of Taylor.”
Yes, that’s the key. I felt myself calming down already.
Besides, why borrow trouble?
Stay calm until you get there, hear what Taylor has to say.
One good thing about having activist parents who frequently got arrested during protests was learning at a young age how the criminal justice system works.
No matter what, I was glad Taylor hadn’t come home with me last night.
Whatever happened at the Aquitaine last night, I wasn’t sorry he wasn’t complicit in helping Colin cover up a murder.
And there was no way I was going to tell Taylor what happened.
The three of us had decided to not tell Taylor the whole truth about what
Colin actually does after Taylor came to live with us. I still worry about lying to him—as Mom always says, “it’s stupid to lie because the truth will always come out”—but both Frank and Colin thought Taylor would be living with us only while he was finishing college at Tulane, and after that it wouldn’t be an issue.
We’d moved the cache of weaponry we used to keep in the spare bedroom on the fourth floor to the closet in the bedroom Colin used on the third floor.
Taylor had only asked once why that closet door was padlocked, and I just said, “It’s where the guns are.”
I guess we could thank his small-town rural Alabama upbringing for him not questioning us having a gun closet.
But how the hell was I going to explain the living room to him?
Well, Taylor, I’ve been meaning to redecorate for a while. So when I got home from the party last night I was bored and thought I’d get started.
Yeah, great idea.
And what if more assassins showed up looking for Colin?
Worry about that later. Right now, you need to get to Taylor and figure out what to do to fix this situation. The rest can be dealt with later.
I made sure I locked the deadbolt on the back door as I went out into the cold, glancing up the stairs. Should I go check on Taylor’s apartment?
Scooter.
He hadn’t been fed and who knew how long I’d be gone?
I dashed upstairs. He was sleeping on Taylor’s bed and didn’t even look up as I filled his food and water bowls.
I resisted the temptation to run down the back stairs but was still taking them too fast. I could almost feel time slipping through my fingers.
Taylor is alone and terrified with a dead body.
I shivered. It was cold and damp outside, not nearly as cold as the night before, but at least it wasn’t raining. You’re not going to be any help to Taylor if you break your neck on the stairs and if you can’t think clearly. Get a grip.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs my phone chimed. I pulled it out, thinking, What if it’s Frank? What am I going to tell him?