by Lyn Stone
“Take it easy, now. You take his feet and I’ll get his arms. We’re gonna drag him over by the fire where I can see what we’re doing. Okay? He’ll be okay. We’ll fix him up.”
She made a murmur of agreement and crouched down to grab Perry’s ankles. Her movements were spasmodic, definitely shocky, but she would recover. Perry might not, in spite of what Ford had said.
“Hot water, Mary, and some rags. Shake a leg, hon! I don’t have time to baby you now, much as I’d like to.”
“Baby me?” she demanded, her voice stronger now.
Ford smiled to himself. She’d do. “Yeah, suck it up, kid. We got a problem here and I can’t do everything by myself.”
He’d provoked her deliberately and got the expected results. She started slamming things around like women did when they got a mad on, but she was doing what he asked. In a hurry, too, even if she was noisy about it.
He exposed Perry’s side again. Then he turned him a little and found the exit wound. It was messy, but looked as though the bullet had gone straight through. Ford was glad it hadn’t bounced around inside. He made a compress out of the shirts Mary had handed him and held it firmly against both wounds to stanch the bleeding. His own arm was giving him fits.
Mary tugged off Perry’s jacket and shirt while Ford continued to apply pressure. Her actions were hasty and none too gentle.
Perry had passed out the minute they’d moved him. Ford regretted they were going to have to bring him around pretty soon, if they could. Blevins was coming, he’d said. But when? And why, if he thought Perry was his hit man? It didn’t make much sense. But then, none of this did.
What kind of case was Perry on that would require his having a false file distributed to the field offices? Internal crapola, maybe? Strange that Duvek hadn’t informed him about who Perry really was, since Ford had laid out the whole story. Maybe Duvek hadn’t known about Perry, either. Jeez, could Duvek be involved?
Mary sniffled as she worked, crying. “Aw, honey, he’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“D-don’t you call m-me honey!” she warned. But her next words sounded frightened. “Will they arrest me for—for this? I did it on purpose.”
Ford forced a laugh. “No, no! Of course they won’t arrest you! I’d have shot him myself if I’d been awake. If he had been trying to kill us, that’s the only thing that would have saved our lives. Buck up now, everything’s cool.”
Damn cold, in fact. His butt was freezing and his feet were numb. Perry lay between him and the fire and Ford was wearing nothing but his birthday suit and a bandage around his arm.
“Here, hold this for me,” he ordered Mary. “I need to put on some clothes.” She obeyed without comment.
He watched her as he dressed. It took a while since his bad arm didn’t work that well. She was holding up okay, all things considered. While she was occupied with Perry, Ford took the time to gather his weapon and Perry’s. He knew it would upset Mary if she had to look at them, so he put on the safeties and stowed them beneath the end of the mattress near Perry’s feet.
“I’m so sorry,” Mary said to Perry as he began to stir.
“Good shot,” Perry grunted in a pain-filled whisper. “Little low and off...center.”
“Perry, I need some answers,” Ford said as he knelt closer, edging between Mary and Perry as best he could, without interfering with her pressure on the wound.
“We’ll get you some help soon as we can,” he said to Perry. “Meantime, what can you tell me about Blevins?”
Perry sucked in air, steeled himself. Ford admired his determination to stay conscious and calm. Most men would be screaming for an ambulance.
“Blevins called me when he got your location. Sent me again...to take you out. Last call...helped me identify who he was. Couldn’t before.”
It took a minute for Ford to put it together. “He hired you anonymously, then, to do the hit? What about Antonio, the antiques dealer?”
“Did that one...himself,” Perry said, speaking a little more easily now. “Brought me in after that. I was waiting for an...expected call...different subject. You were a surprise job. Tried to catch you. Warn you.”
“What about that shooting on the road over by Franklin?”
Perry shook his head slightly. “Not me. Lost—lost you at the museum.”
“But he told you where we were when I called him from the mansion, didn’t he?”
“Yes. You’re the... devil to catch. You’re his main mark.”
“Me? What about Mary?”
Perry blinked hard, his lips firm in a grimace as he fought passing out again. “Her, too. When she gave up the stones.”
“Why me?” Ford asked.
“You got too wise, I guess. He didn’t get... specific.”
Ford suspected there might be more to it than that. Blevins hated his guts, for one thing. “And you think he’s coming here? Why, if he hired you to get rid of us?”
“To get rid of me, too. Said stay with...your bodies till morning. He’d help bury you. Ha!” Perry uttered a harsh little grunt supposed to be a laugh. “Bet he’d make me...dig my own hole. Sorry bastard.”
“The two politicians. How’d you get credit for them?” Ford asked, wondering just how far the powers-that-be would go to set up Perry’s cover as an assassin. And, more to the point, why they would do it.
“They...hired someone else, too. Insurance. Didn’t know that till after.” He paused and sighed. “I claimed the kills. For my cover.”
“Cover for what?” Ford demanded.
Perry smiled, nearly a death-mask rictus, and glanced at Mary. “‘Need to know.’ Familiar with that term?”
“Well, shoot. You creeps have all the fun, double-0 numbers, too, I bet. Why’d Blevins use you? Sort of overkill, looks like.”
“Available. Local at the moment. And he knew you’d go down hard. He set you up, guarding her,” Perry said, looking toward Mary.
“So you could do us both at once,” Ford guessed. “And our unknown courier would take the heat while Blevins took the gems. End of investigation.”
Perry didn’t answer. He’d dropped off again with perfect timing. Ford could allow him to sleep now and escape the pain.
“The bleeding has slowed, almost stopped,” Mary said as she lifted the pad on the entry wound and then checked the other one. “I’m going to try to wrap him.”
Ford helped her as much as his arm would allow. When they had finished, he said, “I’ll take over now. Why don’t you go wash your face or something. You look sorta done in.”
She abruptly stood. Then, very quietly, she leaned down and whispered directly in his ear, “Will he live, Ford? Really?”
“Absolutely.” He nodded emphatically. “Hey, you can’t kill these guys. They’ve got orders not to die.”
“How are you?” she asked softly. Too softly, like she might cry again.
“A damn sight better than I was before this afternoon’s delight.”
She cursed him as she whirled around and stalked off into the darkness of the bedroom. Ford grinned. Deviling her and watching those furious little hips wag was going to be one of the great joys of his life, he decided.
But first, they had to make it until morning and then face Blevins. After that, he’d give Mary a rush that would put Casanova to shame. He felt damned inspired.
“She’s gonna shoot you, too,” Perry said, his eyes still closed.
Ford looked down at his fellow spook and laughed. “Well, why the hell do you think I hid the guns?”
Mary leaned forward against the wall in the small bathroom, her head resting on her folded arms, wondering whether she could get by without throwing up. She had almost killed a man. He might die yet. She might have felt justified in shooting him if he really had been trying to kill them, but he hadn’t.
From what she gathered, he had been trying to warn them about Blevins all this time. Now he might die because of her. He was a young man, too. She guessed around thirty to thirt
y-five. Might even have a family.
Mary’s legs trembled and she quickly sat down on the closed lid of the commode. She buried her face in her palms and began to cry in earnest.
The release of tension helped and Mary began to think more clearly. She wiped her eyes with her fingers, sniffled and smelled the residue gunpowder on her hands. It was stupid to sit here in the bathroom and cry, even over spilled blood, she thought What was done, was done. There was another man out there somewhere, this one truly intent on their deaths. She might have to do this again.
“Come on, Shaw,” she muttered to herself, raking her hair back with her fingers and taking a deep, cleansing breath. “Get over it and get out there.”
“Good attitude.” Ford’s voice came out of the darkness.
Mary jumped up. “Good grief! Did you have to do that?” She couldn’t see him in the dark, but she knew he must be filling the doorway. “You scared me to death!” The last word rang in her ears. “What about that—Perry? Is he—?”
“He’ll make it.”
Ford entered the bathroom and stepped close enough to touch her. He ran his hand down her arm and threaded his fingers through hers.
“You okay now? If you are, we need to make a plan.”
She nodded, realized he couldn’t see, and answered, “Fine.”
“That you are, Mary,” he said, and brushed his lips across her forehead. “So fine.” He trailed his mouth along her brow and cheek and found her lips. She melted into him and let him hold her. When they broke the kiss, Mary rested her head against his chest.
“Ford?”
“Hmm?” He stroked her back with his hand—not a prelude to anything, just a caring gesture.
“I can’t do that again.”
“What, sweetie? What can’t you do? Fire the gun?”
“Have you ever... killed anyone?”
For a long moment he remained still. She could feel the tenseness he tried to conceal from her. Strange how the total darkness revealed things she might have missed had she been looking at him.
Finally he replied. “Yeah.”
That one word, so softly and hesitantly spoken, conveyed so much. Mary sensed his regret, sorrow, defensiveness, even a little pride.
“Well, I can’t do it,” she whispered.
His hand pressed her closer to him. “Okay,” he said. “But we need to decide what you will do when it goes down. Blevins is coming. I’ll try not to kill him, either, but you gotta understand, I might have to.”
“I know.”
He stepped away, but kept hold of her hand. “Come on, let’s go back to the fire and get you warm. We can talk in there.”
Mary went with him, clinging to his strong, capable hand with both of hers, like a child in tow. She promised herself she would be strong in a minute—as soon as they found the light again and began to map out tomorrow morning’s probable events. But for now, just for the time it took to cross the cold, dark bedroom, she wanted to forget everything but the steadying comfort of his grip and the feel of his fingers interlaced with hers.
Ford wondered what in the world he would do with Mary. He couldn’t send her out in the dead of night to cross the six miles of devastation to Knoblett’s place. Assuming she could find it, she wouldn’t be safe there anyway. She had just told him that she’d given Blevins directions to Knoblett’s house when she thought he was Duvek.
No way could he call for help. His phone was as dead as a mackerel and Perry didn’t have one. He couldn’t send her back to the Jeep. Even if she made it to the vehicle and got it started, it might die on her before she got somewhere safe.
One thing he did know—he had to get Mary out of here. Perry would be useless, probably out cold, and Ford didn’t feel too spry himself.
He had been fighting the dizziness and need for rest since he awoke to the sound of the shots. Alternating chills and urges to go outside and cool off told him his fever was back. If it returned full force, he would be as ineffective as Perry. Mary might find herself on her own against Blevins.
He considered sending her to her grandmother’s house. Blevins knew about it, of course. And Ford figured that if he blew it when Blevins arrived, that might be the first place the bastard would look for Mary. However, it still seemed the safest alternative. Blevins would be coming in by way of Knoblett’s, and she would be headed in the other direction. Once she got there, she could call for help and then hide in that wine cellar she had told him about.
Hopefully, just before dawn wouldn’t be too late to send her. Blevins had no reason to rush in here before morning. Anybody who planned to approach Perry in the dark, no matter what the reason, would have to be crazy. Blevins wasn’t crazy, just greedy as hell.
Looking down at Mary where she sat on the edge of the stone hearth, he spoke decisively. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. Just before first light, you’re going to take off for your grandma’s place. Soon as you get there, call somebody who lives close by to come right away and take you somewhere else. Anybody but Knoblett. Blevins might be there. The minute you’re safely away, call Duvek to come and get you. Tell him to send a few troops in here, too, while you’re at it.”
He reached for her tote bag, which she had laid near the hearth, and tossed it onto her lap. “Find me a pen in that jumble of stuff and I’ll write his number on your hand.”
Mary set her lips and raised that stubborn little chin. “No. I’m not leaving without you.”
Ford snatched the bag away and found the pen for himself. He crouched down beside her and grabbed her hand.
She tried to snatch it back, but he held on. She fumed. “I’m not going anywhere, Ford! You got that?”
He squeezed the hand he held, rubbing his thumb into her palm as he met her determined gaze. He kept his voice low and tried to sound reasonable. “Mary, there will be shooting.”
“I’m not a fool, Ford! I know that. You’ll give me one of the guns.”
“You told me not ten minutes ago that you couldn’t do it again,” he reminded her, hoping to rekindle her fear, or guilt, or whatever it took to get her to agree to go.
“Anybody can get rattled for a minute. Give me a break here, will you? Maybe I don’t do this for a living, but I can do it!” she declared. “Didn’t I prove that I can? Didn’t I shoot him?” Mary nodded once at the unconscious Perry.
Ford saw her wince and then regain her resolve.
“Well, that’s mighty brave of you, honey, but you’ll hesitate next time. That split second could be fatal. I don’t want you to die.” Ford realized he was scaring himself with that warning worse than he was her.
“I won’t,” she promised, pulling her hand from his. “I’ll fire the minute he opens that door. You’ll see!”
Ford started shaking his head, but she stopped that in a heartbeat. She had snaked one hand under the edge of the mattress and pulled out his Glock.
“I’m not going,” she said as she ejected the clip, visually checked the load and replaced it with a snap of her palm. “And you can’t make me.”
With eyebrows raised and hopes lowered, Ford blew out a breath of frustration. She was right. He was in no shape to enforce anything at the moment. “It’s your neck, then.”
“Yours, too,” she replied with a lift of her chin.
Ford got up and headed toward the kitchen area. “How did you make that witch’s brew of yours?” he asked, effectively changing the subject. “If it won’t make me sleepy, I think I need another shot of the stuff.”
Mary immediately abandoned the weapon and hurried after him. First she felt his forehead and neck, her cool hands more gentle than his mother’s had ever been. No matter how bad he felt, his mom was a no-nonsense kind of woman when it came to coddling. Ford appreciated the fact that Mary was still prone to a little nonsense now and then.
“You do feel really warm,” she said, looking worried.
Ford watched while she found the substance she had stored in an old jar and returned to the fire for
the hot water.
She worked quietly and efficiently, pouring the steaming liquid over the flaky bits she had placed in one of the heavy ceramic coffee mugs they had found in the cabinet when they’d first come here.
“What is that, anyway?” he asked.
“White willow bark,” she informed him. “We’ll let it steep for a little while before you drink it, since it’s a tea,” Mary said.
“An expert in folk remedies, are you?” he asked, even though he didn’t want an honest answer—not when he was about to become a test animal again. “Convince me.”
“The hills around here are a veritable pharmacy,” she said, sounding like a tour guide again. At least the conversation was taking her mind off what could happen in a few hours.
“That so? I heard ginseng grows wild. That’s an aphrodisiac,” he told her with a leer.
“You would know about that one!” she replied, scoffing. “Well, I’ll bet you didn’t know that a form of birth control’s available, too! Since ancient times. The knowledge was lost to medical men—they were probably concentrating on the ginseng—but midwives knew about it. Guess what it is.”
“Abstinence!” he said, laughing.
“Nope,” she said. “Guess again. It’s quite common.”
Ford traced his lips with his tongue, wondering if there might be a message in this somewhere. Had she used whatever it was she was talking about? Was that why she’d been so accommodating this afternoon? He caught her gaze and held it, trying to see if this was going anywhere deep. “I give up.”
“Queen Anne’s lace!” she announced. “It’s true! Isn’t that amazing?”
“Are you afraid you’re pregnant, Mary?” The words just popped out.
She looked shocked. “Of course not. I just used that as an example of what I know—what I studied about plants. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” Ford said gently, trailing his hand down her arm. “Don’t get upset. I just wondered.”
She stared at him, eyes wide. “I just didn’t want you to think I’m—well, that I knew nothing about plants and things, and gave you something dangerous. I do know some. Enough, anyway.”