Assassin

by Seiters, Nadene

  His expression is of polite interest, but Cassidy can see the twitch in his jaw and the impatience in his eyes. She decides to intervene before Jody finds herself the recipient of horse shit flung at her and leaves Hannah at Grant’s side.

  “It’s a little hot to be riding today, unfortunately. But if you had plans, she can stay here for the two hours we agreed on. Maybe we can brush off a few of the horses.” Cassidy effectively takes the attention off Troy and moves it to Hannah’s well-being and the plan for her. He takes a few steps back and starts fiddling with some hoses in Cassidy’s truck to make himself look busy. He honestly just wants a hole to swallow him up because he can feel Hannah and Grant’s eyes on his back.

  “That’s fine. I actually have a yoga class I’m supposed to be at in town. It’ll probably only be me and a few other ladies today, but Hannah always gets so bored there. Are you sure you don’t mind?” Cassidy assures the woman that she doesn’t. “It was nice meeting you Troy!” Jody calls back as she flounces down the driveway in her flip flops. She’s a pretty woman in her late thirties with stringy, black hair and hazel eyes.

  While she seems likeable, Troy doesn’t seem interested when he glances up at her to watch her walk back. It’s just male curiosity that has him looking in the first place. He didn’t see a ring on her finger, so he assumes that the girl’s father most likely is not in the picture. Yet he could be wrong. There are more and more couples not getting married anymore.

  “See something you like?” Cassidy has amusement in her voice when she asks, but Grant recognizes his daughter’s sarcasm starting. He clears his throat as he puts out his pipe and steers Hannah into the house with her bag. He waits in the doorway as if Cassidy is going to head in with them, but she remains by the truck stubbornly.

  “Not in particular,” Troy answers loud enough for her father to hear. He feels like he’s under a microscope constantly. One more day of this questioning and Troy might be calling up one of the agents to come get him.

  “Are you going to entertain Hannah or shall I?” Grant sounds impatient as he holds the door open. “The air conditioning is getting out.” Troy cracks a grin at her father’s attempt in rescuing him, and glances sideways when Cassidy walks past. Now there’s something he likes, but as soon as he admits it to himself he pulls on the carburetor.

  It comes out smoothly, and he begins the process of tearing it apart to clean it. This should take up at least an hour so that he doesn’t have to interact with the kid on the premises. As he’s tearing the carburetor on the porch apart, he can hear Hannah inside explaining to Cassidy about how to make chocolate chip cookies. The child is so engrossed in her explanations that she doesn’t realize Cassidy is taking her out onto the front porch until they’re sitting down in the swing seat together.

  What is it with her and pushing me? Troy faces away from the two as he uses the spray cleaner to blast the gunk from the valves. Then he uses an air can to blast out any remaining cleaner, and proceeds to put the carburetor back together. The silence that meets his ears does not go unnoticed, but he’s not going to break it.

  “What’s he doing?” Hannah finally interjects the peaceful quiet with her high voice.

  “Cleaning my carburetor so my truck works. Otherwise, I’ll have to take pop-pop’s truck home!” Troy’s ears perk as he listens, and he can’t help the shocked look on his face when he turns to Cassidy. “Jody’s a close friend of the family. It was easier for Hannah to say pop-pop when she was younger, and it stuck.”

  “Can I help?” Her stubby fingers are picking up the screws before Troy tells her, but he doesn’t scold, to Cassidy’s shock.

  “I don’t need that one yet, but you can hang onto it for me. Don’t lose it, or Cassie will be walking home.” Hannah’s nose wrinkles as she leans back on her heels while she squats. She’s wearing a pair of brown pants and a green shirt, which tells Troy that her mother is used to her coming home dirty.

  “She said she’d borrow Pop-pop’s truck, so why would you say she has to walk home?” The way he smiles at the girl makes Cassidy’s chest tighten in a way she hasn’t experienced before. Is that compassion on his face?

  “You’re smart, kid. How about you put this one in?” He hands over the screwdriver, but helps Hannah put in the screw. When it gets to the part where he has to hold the cap over the spring, Hannah holds it while he puts everything back together.

  “Why’s your nose crooked?” The question takes him off guard, and he chuckles at her bewildered face. Troy takes the cleaned and reassembled carburetor from her small hands and lifts her up so that she can see where he puts it back into the truck. Her hands cling to the grubby side of the truck as she stands on the tire.

  “Because I got hit in the face, and it was broken.” She watches him reattaching the device, but doesn’t give up on getting a better explanation.

  “Why?” Oh God, not that stage.

  “I was in a fight.” Cassidy turns her head in interest and watches the two interact as she listens to Hannah ask the questions she never seems to get an answer to. So Troy Red does have a weakness during interrogation, children.

  “Why were you fighting? Mom says it’s bad to fight.” Troy leans his forearms on the truck as he wipes his hands on the grease rag. He only succeeds in spreading around the dirt on his fingers, and pulls off his shirt to wipe his hands on. Apparently the man has no respect for clothing.

  “It was my job.” That seems to peak both female’s interest, and Robert Grant leans against his doorframe as he listens to Troy explaining to a six year old why he had a broken nose. He’s good at giving just enough information to have her asking more, but not enough to give away what he did for a living.

  “What’d you do?” Troy’s eyes focus on the engine in front of him as he tries to come up with an answer that won’t put anyone in earshot in danger. He also doesn’t want to scare the kid so severe she has nightmares for the rest of her life.

  “I wasn’t always a good person, and my job wasn’t a good one. But you’re mother’s right, Lil-” He stops himself before he can say his niece’s name, and Cassidy sees the change come over him as his shoulders stiffen and his arms bunch. Afraid that he’s going to lose control, Grant opens up the door to get everyone’s attention.

  “Hannah, why don’t you come in and help me color some of those pictures your mom left?” Troy watches her clamber down off the tire and looks at Grant with a mix of fear and relief. He’s afraid that the old man will no longer want him around, and he’s relieved that he doesn’t have to answer any more of the kid’s questions.

  Troy hangs his head under the hood of the truck as he tries to get himself under control. There was never a funeral that he could attend, and he’ll never get to see their gravesites. Instead, he has to forget they ever existed, but that’s hard when there are reminders all around him. His chest feels as if it’s cracking in two as he squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to get the images to disappear.

  Cassidy watches his hand choking the wrench to death and studies his face. The people who usually show up at her father’s house don’t show much emotion. In fact, most of them remain in the house and keep to themselves as much as possible. But Troy Red immediately took to talking with Hannah like it was second nature to him, and he only remembered where he was when he almost said someone’s name.

  “Who’s Lilly?” Troy’s pained look immediately disappears as he slides out from under the truck hood and closes it. He sets the wrench in the small tool box attached to the truck bed, and tries to retreat from her towards the barn. But that’s the wrong direction.

  “Troy!” She jogs after him to keep up, and ends up jogging backwards in front of him. He reaches out a hand to stop her before she runs into the side of the barn, and spins her around so that she’s facing forward. The shiver that goes through her is unmissed by him, but he interprets it as a shiver of fear.

  “I don’t hurt women!” He brushes past her and feels her shiver again, but Cassidy is bitin
g her bottom lip as she looks away from him.

  “I never said you did.” She follows him this time at a slow pace, and keeps her tone neutral.

  “Then why are you afraid of me?” His loud tone catches her off guard, and she flinches away from him. Her hand snakes up to push her hair out of her face as she straightens her shoulders in an attempt to look a little less affected by the way he’s posturing.

  “I’m not! Who is Lilly, Troy?” He grips one of the stall doors at the top to keep grounded. Flashes of Lilly’s face assault him and the sound of her laugh fills his ears as he’s tumbled into a memory. It’s the one of her last birthday they spent together. He had bought her an Easy-Bake Oven and her mother was teasing her that she had to cook her own birthday cakes from now on.

  “I can’t tell you that! I can’t tell you anything about them, and I don’t understand why you give a rat’s ass! I’m a killer Cassidy. I’m not some broken man you can fix, so get in your damned truck and drive home. Stay there until I’m gone, which won’t be long. Staying here is a mistake!” His breaths are coming fast, but she’s as cool as a cucumber as she stares him down.

  “Who did you kill?” To her surprise, he begins to laugh as he puts his forehead to the wood with his hands gripping the top yet. She hadn’t expected him to be so muscular under the shirt, but it looks as if he’s spent his entire life maintaining a body fat count of zero. Being near him makes her feel a little on the fat side.

  “Whoever the client wanted me to, as long as they paid enough. I didn’t ask questions beyond where and who, Cassidy.” Her pretty face blanches as she realizes what he’s saying and her lips part a millimeter as she stares at him. He really is a lithe killing machine standing right in front of her.

  “How many?” This one comes out more like a whisper, and Troy feels his heart sink as he thinks back to each mark he’s ever killed.

  “Nine.” She quirks an eyebrow and puts one leg off to the side a few inches as she thinks.

  “So you killed one person a year since you were what, eighteen, nineteen? Why not more?” It’s the oddest question anyone has ever asked him, and one that the FBI agents never bothered to.

  “I didn’t need to. The payment from one client was enough to last me a year where I lived.” The truth hurts like an axe through the chest. He waits for her to leave like any normal person would, but she’s studying him like a lab rat.

  “Why would someone get into that business?” Troy stands up and looks at the wall of the barn ahead of him. The muscle in his neck is jumping again with his pulse as he tries to determine whether or not he should tell her the truth. If he does, she might look at him with pity like the female agent, Maggie, did. If he lies to her and tells her that it was fun and games for him, then she’ll find him disgusting and never talk to him again. Yet he doesn’t want either.

  “You could say I was born into it.” That should suffice for now. Cassidy seems to make some sort of decision about him as she stands there and turns to walk out of the barn. She stops and turns her head without turning the rest of her body so that he can see her cheek and the pink streak in her hair.

  “That’s a shame, Troy because I think you could be better than that.” It’s not pity, but it’s not hatred either. She sounds understanding, and that makes Troy curious about her upbringing.

  “Cassidy,” he calls out her name before she can walk away and she stays where she’s at, “what happened to your mother?” It’s been nagging him since he arrived. Her father doesn’t wear a wedding band and never mentions a previous wife, and Cassidy has never mentioned her mother.

  “She’s dead.” Her retreat is a little more hurried than usual, and Troy feels guilty for asking. It’s obviously a sore spot with her, so he figures he’d better ask Grant those nagging questions from now on.

  Hannah insists upon finding Troy before she leaves, and Jody walks in on him grooming Beethoven with a soft bristled brush. He didn’t want to tear apart any of the equipment that he didn’t know, and the only thing left that he could think of to keep himself from Hannah’s sight was grooming a horse. Jody’s brilliant smile tells him that she’s more than curious about him. She’s interested. Suddenly he wishes he had grabbed another shirt before the kid’s mom got back.

  “Now say goodbye so that we don’t interrupt Mr. Red too much, sweetheart.” Hannah’s shy wave is altogether different from her behavior earlier at the truck, and Troy feels a little guilty for reacting the way he did to her last question. It wasn’t the kid’s fault he forgot who he was speaking to.

  “I’m coming back on Friday, will you be here?” Jody has her hand on her daughter’s head, and he watches her long fingers pull Hannah’s hair back from her face.

  “I’m sure that he will, now say goodbye so that we can get to Natalie’s house on time.” Hannah’s wave looks a little forlorn, and Troy wonders who Natalie is. The kid seems to have a pretty busy life. Cassidy waves to him as she passes by the barn doorway, and he automatically waves his hand before he can stop himself. He hears her truck start and breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes that everyone but Grant is gone.

  His stomach rumbles to tell him that it’s getting close to dinnertime, so he checks to make sure that the horse’s feed bins are full and starts leading the rest of them inside. If he stands off to the side, they meander to their stalls on their own. Grant pokes his head through the barn door that leads to the driveway, and has a small grin on his face when he sees that Troy has gotten the hang of letting the horses in.

  They both walk up to the house in silence, and during dinner they discuss the different tools and equipment in the barn. Grant shows Troy a few of the larger pieces of equipment and how to take them apart after dinner, and then they head in to go to their separate quarters. Troy ends up falling asleep rather quickly after a warm shower and a hundred push-ups. He’s hoping that going to bed exhausted will get the nightmares to disappear.

  Chapter Five

  It’s been seven, long, hard days without seeing her. The hay has been harvested and stored in the loft of the barn, all with the help of two men from in town. Troy wasn’t open enough to strike up a friendship with Blake and Evan, but they included him when they stopped for lunch or talked about their wives. He learned a lot about the town and their close-knit community during their long discussions about the ladies book clubs. Apparently there’s a community day coming up next week, and Evan asked if Troy would be attending.

  He’d said he wasn’t.

  “Hey Troy, you awake, son?” Grant’s voice breaks through Troy’s reverie as he lifts the hammer up to hit the nail on the head again. He’s building a new trough for Violet’s stall. The poor thing lost all her feed yesterday morning on the stall floor.

  “Yeah, I’m here, what’s up?” Grant takes the hammer from Troy’s hands before he hits himself on the thumb, and places it off to the side.

  “I said, Cassidy called and said there’s a foal at her place that needs a home. I’m going to pick it up, but I was hoping you could come help me.” With one quirk of his eyebrow, he hopes he conveys just how much he doesn’t want to help with a foal. It doesn’t deter Grant from waiting for a verbal response.

  “Fine, but if it bites me or kicks me, I’m not feeding it!” The spot where Beethoven kicked him still smarts from time to time, and he’s not soon to forget about the incident. A foal that’s just lost its mother might be inclined to have a tantrum.

  “You won’t have to. She’s going to stay here for a while until she can find a suitable replacement mare.” Troy heaves a sigh as he follows Grant from the barn to his pickup truck. He slides into the passenger seat, and glances back at the trailer attached to the truck. They’re going to put a shaky-legged foal in that?

  “How is this going to go down? We’re just going to swoop in there and shove it into a trailer? Won’t the ride be too bumpy?” Grant glances over at Troy as he starts his truck and starts down his bumpy driveway. He doesn’t answer until they hit the pavement, an
d Troy’s already immersed in studying the scenery as they pass. This will be his first time in town.

  “That’s why I’m bringing you. You’ll have to hold it steady in the trailer. And try not to be seen by a cop.” Troy puts his hands on his face as he has flashes of tiny hooves stomping on his face. He’s silent the rest of the trip.

  At the end of the driveway, that’s surrounded by nothing but forest there are more trees. Troy looks relaxed in the passenger seat, but Grant can tell that the man is on edge about having to get into a trailer with a horse. Cassidy told him about Troy’s confession that he killed people, but she remained mute on the issue ever since. Yet a foal makes the man’s guts twist.

  He turns onto the road that will take them into town, and keeps up a steady pace with the truck. It’s slow enough that Troy can get a close look at the townsfolk going about their business in their small homes. Their houses might be small, but they have at least a quarter of an acre they’re sitting on, and it looks nothing like home for Troy. He tries not to let on that he’s studying the residents as Grant takes them to Cassidy’s home.

  Grant turns onto a side street that turns into a small, dirt road about halfway up the mountain. The house they pull up to is a little larger than some of the town homes. She’s painted her shutters black, and the stucco is bright white, it’s a strange contrast. Troy wonders why she hasn’t built a barn of her own, but doesn’t have a chance to ask as Grant steps out of his truck and closes the door.

  They wander around to the back of the two-story home, and the scene they come upon is enchanting. Both men halt in their footsteps as they watch Cassidy feeding the tiny horse with a unusually large bottle. She’s whispering to it about how adorable it is and stroking the length of its face as it eats lovingly. Troy wonders what it would be like to feel her hand stroking his face and chokes on the thought. He has to turn away as he coughs and attracts her attention, but by the time he turns back the scene has been ruined.