by Susan Kelley
“Are you finished?” Vin’s voice startled her though he spoke quietly.
Emma’s heart climbed into her throat. Everyone was out on the streets somewhere, too far away to hear a cry for help. She dropped the bloody cloth and handed him the bottle. “You should be fine.”
Vin picked up the cloth and stood up. He grabbed her hand and helped her rise, gentle despite the abruptness of his action.
Emma backed away from him, noticing the sleekness of his body. A body built for speed and strength. His long fingers wrapped around the bottle, fingers familiar with weapons and probably trained to kill in many other ways. But her stepfather wouldn’t want her killed.
Vin’s brow creased into a frown. He looked down at his bare legs and then back at her. For a moment the ice in his gaze melted but it quickly cooled again. He turned his back to her and spoke over his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Emma mumbled something and hurried down the steps. The neatness of the downstairs now appeared more ominous than revealing as before. The coldness of his eyes wasn’t the emotional shield she’d thought it was. It was the cold of a killer, a hunter, sent to find her.
Chapter Five
Vin used a rag to rub oil on the chain running from the motor to the wheels. He’d put the remote crawler together from parts he’d found in the shop. The previous owner had been a slob, but he had a good supply of parts and the tools needed to piece them together. Working with his hands relaxed Vin as it always had. He’d mastered the skill of fixing things easier than anything except killing. He could look at anything mechanical and understand how it worked.
The peaceful work gave his mind leave to wander. His damned body had betrayed him while Emma knelt at his feet. He’d agreed to allow her to treat his wounds because he thought it was the expected behavior. Wouldn’t most men want a pretty lady doctor to treat their wounds? But then he’d spoiled it with his uncontrolled reaction to … everything about her. The scent of her clean hair. The tangles in the lovely blood mass from being called from bed in the early dawn. The lightweight clothing that he suspected she’d slept in. The smooth touch of her hands on his bare skin. The fragile curve of her neck as she surveyed his sleeping quarters.
Yalo had been like him, trained to look at things rationally. Except for when they were alone together. Their nights together had replayed in his dreams, chasing him from sleep into bitter wakefulness. The desire that had heated his body this morning when Emma breathed on his bare leg rivaled anything he’d felt with Yalo.
The murmur of voices outside, Moe and Vannie, drew Vin from his glum thoughts. Had Emma told her massive friends about Vin’s lustful reaction to her ministrations? Had he spoiled his chance to stay close to her?
Moe and Vannie strode in and then closed the door on the fading daylight. The big men caused the floor to vibrate as they approached his work bench. They walked to the other side so they faced him across it.
Vin tried to read their intentions. Anger, perhaps. Did they think to use their big fists on him? Would the village throw him out if he hurt Moe and Vannie in self-defense?
“Spoke to Emma a bit ago,” Moe started.
Vin continued oiling the chain but watched the men while he did. Moe paused, one of those annoying things civilians did, waiting for an answer without a question being asked.
Moe and Vannie exchanged one of those glances. Vin felt a twinge of regret. He’d been able to communicate without words with his fellow Recon Marines. That part of his life was over, the other Recon Marines happily settled with the civilians. They’d save Queen Callie and all her womenfolk except Yalo. The regret threatened to blossom into bitter grief that ambushed him again and again.
“Lots of people that settle here have things they keep private.” Vannie leaned toward Vin. “We don’t ask questions of those that come here as long as they conduct themselves proper and do their share of work. People’s past is their own business.”
Vin finished with the oil and used a clean spot on the rag to wipe his hands. Again the pause for a response. He tried. “I don’t care about your pasts.”
Vannie leaned further so his chest touched the piece of machinery. “Not the past we’re interested in, Mister Smith. We’re interested in your present.”
Vin gestured at the workbench. “I’m making a remote controlled crawler to clear the streambed so on one else ends up like Russ. I should have it ready for a test in the morning.”
Moe’s face darkened. “Are you trying to be funny? We don’t mean right this minute.”
“I’ve been working on this since I checked outside the north gate for tracks.”
Vannie slammed his open hand down on the work table. “Are you trying to get your face beat in?”
Vin looked from one man to the other. “No. I don’t think anyone here could do that.”
Moe and Vannie grinned at each other and then separated so each came around an end of the bench. The shift of Moe’s body warned Vin a moment before Moe’s big fist flew at his head.
Vin evaded the heavy swing and kept moving down and away, hearing the swish of cloth from the other side as Vannie started his attack. Vin slid beneath the table, sweeping his legs out to take Moe’s feet from under him. Before the big man hit the ground, Vin rose to his feet and faced Vannie.
Vannie swayed off balance from his missed punch but tried another one anyway. Vin avoid the jab and grabbed Vannie’s wrist as it passed by his shoulder. He tugged Vannie forward. Vannie stumbled into Moe who was trying to regain his feet. They went down in a heap together. After much cursing they stood up and faced Vin again.
“You may not beat my face in.” Vin thought again of the men’s odd words though perhaps he’d misunderstood. “Perhaps I don’t understand your question. Why do you think I’m trying to be funny?”
Moe and Vannie exchanged another one of those glances but they both relaxed their clenched fists. Vannie sighed and shook his head. “We’re going about this wrong. Will you answer some questions, Vin whatever your name is?”
They didn’t believe Smith was his name. Vin had no papers or smooth talking to convince them. “Ask your questions.”
“You’re a soldier,” Moe said.
It wasn’t a question but Vin corrected the statement. “I was.”
Vannie looked around the shop. “You’ve cleaned this dump up in one day to military standards.”
Vin tried a shrug. He’d seen civilians use the gesture often and practiced it in front of the mirror along with other expressions that would help him fit in.
“Why are you here?” Moe asked. “What brought you to Merris Five and to our little village?”
“I told you I came to find work.” Vin had thought his lie was perfectly convincing.
“Tell us the truth now, lad, or we’ll continue this fight.” Moe’s fists tightened again.
Vin wondered how they’d seen through his clever fabrication but he had a small truth ready. “I need to avoid more populated worlds.”
The big men relaxed again. Vannie spoke next. “You’re here to hide out? Are you a deserter then?”
Vin knew the word but not all the nuances of it and none of the connotations fit him. “I didn’t desert, but I don’t want to be found by anyone.”
Moe stuck out his hand with a short nod. “We had to be sure. You’re not active military anymore?”
Vin shook Moe’s and then Vannie’s hand. “I haven’t been part of the military for over a year.”
“I understand how those habits stay with you for a while.” Vannie grinned. “Now tell me about this trap finder you’re making.”
Vin showed them how the machine worked. “It should clean up to a hundred yards a day and one man can operate it.”
“This will go a long way to getting the men back to work at full speed again. We’re already three days behind and only half the men worked today.” Vannie grinned wider.
“I have another question.” Moe didn’t look near as happy as Vannie. “Dillon swears he check
ed the gate before dark. That means it has to be someone who lives here.”
“I found tracks outside the fence. Someone climbed over the wall a few yards from the gate and took down the bar. I tracked him half a mile up the road to where had a vehicle parked. Probably a hover scooter.” Vin recapped the oil and carried it to the shelf where he’d placed other lubricants. The rag went on another shelf, folded and placed with the other bits of cloth.
“So someone from the Hadrason Mining complex did this.” Moe sighed. “Why? Why the traps and now this sabotage? We’re a poor little village. Taking what they let wash downstream doesn’t hurt them in any way.”
“You have something someone is willing to kill for.” Years of duty battled with Vin’s personal plans. He wasn’t a Recon Marine anymore, only a man set on revenge. Protecting civilians was no longer his job. He would help them only to maintain his cover. “When did the trouble start?”
“A few months ago, a few things happened like the supply ships being late or some of our orders not coming,” Moe said. “We haven’t received any supplies for two months. Usually one of the traders will fly a transport downstream with what we’ve asked for. That’s why Emma doesn’t have the medicines she needs. Though she said she couldn’t buy some of the meds you have as they’re reserved for the military.”
“I know where to get some things.” Vin had purchased most of his things months ago with Yalo to defend Crevan Four though none of them had saved her. He’d stolen more military equipment when he had captured the criminals he hunted down.
“Did you come in on a freight ship?” Moe asked.
“I did,” Vin lied, avoiding their gazes. He’d actually flown his own interstellar ship to the planet and parked it ten miles away. His small hover craft rested beneath a camouflage net only half a mile away.
“Maybe it’s just a nasty prankster,” Moe suggested.
“We have to catch him before someone else gets killed.” Vannie ran his hand over the machine Vin had made. “This time we were lucky and got a big pile of moose meat, but it could have been a lot worse. A bear could have wandered in or those damned jecks could have attacked a child. Vin, you’ve proven yourself a pretty good handyman and hunter. How do you feel about being a guard?”
Vin felt like he was doing something wrong as they asked him to do a chore that fit perfectly into his plans and needs. “I’m quite comfortable with it.”
* * * *
Emma carried more dishes into the kitchen. Only a few of the regular evening customers remained. They’d enjoyed their first moose steaks except for the man who’d provided the meat. Vin hadn’t come into eat, and Emma feared it was her fault.
Moe and Vannie had reported their talk with him. They’d called it a talk instead of a confrontation though she knew better. Her friends claimed they hadn’t hurt Vin in drawing the truth from him, but Emma wanted to see him to be sure.
The interview had solidified Vannie’s belief that Vin had suffered some brain damage in the military. But her friends felt confident Vin had no nefarious purpose in being here. Their conclusion only made her feel guiltier for suspecting him of working for her stepfather. She would make it up to him. Perhaps she could help him deal with his brain injury or whatever was going on with him psychologically.
Moe took the dishes from her and plunged them into the soapy water he hovered over. “I saved him some.”
Emma smiled, knowing Moe had noticed her watching the door. She put the dough for the next day’s bread in the refrigerated cupboard. She would get it out to rise in the morning. She flipped the steak over Moe had saved and hoped it didn’t dry out.
“Almost time to close up for the night,” Moe said.
“I’ll hurry the last of them along.” Emma pushed aside the curtain and he was there.
Vin sat at the table nearest the kitchen. His sharp cool gaze caught hers. “Am I too late?”
The rest of the café had emptied while she was in the kitchen. Being alone with Vin reawakened her earlier guilt at suspecting him. “Yes. I mean no, you’re not too late. I saved some for you.”
Vin pressed his lips together, an expression she now believed meant her words confused him. She felt confused herself and ducked back through the curtain. As a doctor she should do better, keeping things simple for Vin. She dished up the steak, adding a spoonful of steamed vegetables and two thick slices of bread.
Moe handed her a glistening mug of cold water and winked before returning to his dishwashing.
Vin hadn’t moved, even his folded hands rested on the same spot on the table. He pulled them back as Emma set down the plate, his gaze dropping to the heaped serving. He looked at it for a long moment before slowly picking up his fork.
Unlike most soldiers Emma had been around, Vin didn’t dive into his meal with the vigorous abandon of one who had learned to eat rapidly and largely when the opportunity presented itself. Instead he cut small pieces of the steak and savored each bite.
Emma busied herself cleaning the last few tables, carrying plates and glasses back to Moe, but she watched Vin the entire time. He studied each forkful, sometimes lifting it close to his nose and inhaling. The obvious appreciation of the meal filled her with warm pleasure.
She lingered as she wiped down tables and straightened chairs, wondering how to apologize for her suspicions. She saw no injuries from his conversation with Moe and Vannie but it couldn’t have been pleasant. Before she found the right words, Vin finished his dinner.
He stood up, gathering up his plate and utensils, and carried them into the kitchen.
She hurried after him and found him already helping Moe finish the dishes. Beside Moe’s towering frame, Vin should have looked small. But something about the way he moved suggested leashed power.
“You don’t have to help with that.” Emma took a drying cloth
Vin kept rinsing the dishes Moe handed to him and then passed them onto Emma, doing that frown thing with his mouth. Four dishes later he answered. “You waited for me. Kitchen duty is everyone’s responsibility.”
Emma wondered if Vin understood that the miners paid for their meals though he certainly had earned his with the meat he provided. The three of them worked without talking until the chore was done.
Moe grumbled a good night and trudged up the steps to the quarters he shared with Vannie.
Emma turned the kitchen lights off and led Vin out into the dining area. Usually Vannie saw her to her surgery before going upstairs, but tonight he’d left the lockup to her and her safety to Vin.
Vin waited while she put out the café lights and pulled the door tight. Only a few houses had lights in their windows but it was only a few steps on the dark boardwalk to Emma’s front door. She and Jenny had moved Russ home earlier in the day using the wheeled chair Vin had made him. “Thank you again for the chair for Russ. It will make all the difference in his recovery.”
The starlight created shadows around Vin’s eyes but she could still see his gaze searching her face. After his usual hesitation he spoke. “I did it for him so your thanks are not needed.”
“I know, but it was very kind since you don’t even know him.”
“As much as I know any of you. I meant to be helpful more than kind. I didn’t intend anything different.”
“Do you always take everything so literally?”
His eyes narrowed as they paused in front of her door. “Did your words have another meaning?”
She didn’t laugh but couldn’t resist a smile. “No, but Russ and Jenny are my friends, and he’s my patient. Because you helped him, it helped me and made me happy. You made me happy.”
He stepped back, his erect military posture somehow becoming stiffer. “I have no intentions of making anyone happy, Miss Emma.” He walked away without saying good night, passing by his shop door and continuing down the street.
Emma watched him until he slipped into the shadows of one of the narrow alleys. His attempt to push her away with words only challenged her to help hi
m. Vin Smith might be damaged but no one was beyond repair.
* * * *
Vin drifted along the wall, using the shadows to stay invisible. He tuned his handheld remote viewer to stealth mode so the glow of the screen wouldn’t give him away. He’d spent the hours between dusk and dark putting the security scanners in place. He’d brought only eight of the small spy cameras with him. They activated with movement but even when running remained almost invisible. He’d placed one on each gate, set to capture a wide shot of the ends of town and the lane running north and south. The other six he’d planted along the walls, adjusting angles so every inch of the perimeter could be monitored.
He could have sat in his shop and kept an eye on the remote, but Emma’s declaration had struck him like a physical blow. Vin made her happy? He’d only ever made one other woman happy, and now that woman was dead. He’d come to this planet to wait in ambush. Emma was nothing but bait to him.
No words she said could change his reason for being here. No delicious home-cooked meal would deter him from his course. No oddly gentle expression would distract him from his purpose. And for damn sure, no reaction of his body to her tumbling, golden curls or lithe body would cause him to chance getting physically involved with her.
The remote vibrated in his hand. The middle camera on the eastern wall awoke. At night the screen showed heat signatures. Two orange figures fought through the jungle growing right up the wall.
Vin ghosted through an alley and crossed the street to the east side. He found the alley nearest the intruders and paused to watch their actions on the remote. They now glowed red hot as they neared the camera, taking on the shape of men. Though the wall stretched upward for a height of twelve feet, any determined person could scale the rough boards. With two men, it because easier with one providing a boost to the second.